#it pains me because maybe it won't ever be any deep in canon BUT I KEEP THINKING AND THINKING AND TH

[academyofbrokenhearts]

You Touched My Face and All Life Was Erased

Suna and Kaya's first kiss, and what brought them to that point.

Author note: I planned to write this every since I watched the kiss scene, but it took me a while, because I wasn't quite sure how to approach it. But here it is finally. Hope it will make it up somewhat for the lack of canon KaySun this week.

Title inspired by HIM's "Resurrection". Lately it seems like all my favourite songs are KaySun coded.

AO3 link here.

Neither Suna nor Kaya give it a second thought until the moment İfakat opens her mouth, putting in words something neither of them was willing to confront.

the attraction that they feel for each other

Suna's initial reaction is disbelief, because she wears the scars of a lifetime of silence and solitude, always being treated as an afterthought, a quiet, withdrawn girl whose opinion does not matter, and never will.

and her dreams were always fractured to the point where she actively suppressed them, because useless hope can be worse than resignation

Kaya looks at İfakat, knows that whatever game she plays, can't be in his interest, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad to go along with it, if it will get him one step to the revenge that seems to be the only way in which he can calm the storm that rages inside of him. Also, if İfakat thinks she can play him, she better think again.

and somewhere deep down inside, even if he is unwilling to admit it, he does have a bit of a soft spot for the beautiful girl who is not afraid to criticise him, and is not afraid to apologise to him either

*

Can he be her rescue? Suna wonders, when the aftershock has passed, and İfakat's words have started to settle in a bit. Or is this just another door that opens to a wall?

and what other option does she have, except submitting to endless humiliation, to the point that she will be nothing but a broken shell?

Is it worth it? Kaya asks himself. Sacrificing his freedom just to wildly bet on an outcome that might not even be in his favour at the end?

but was he ever really free? and would it be so bad to take this risk?

*

Suna thinks and thinks.

She believed she had found a shelter before, through a love that was at one point the only source of joy in her miserable life, a love that is still unfinished, drowning in bitterness and more pain than she thought she would be able to handle. She's here, still standing in spite of everything, locking down her pain and pretending, in order not to collapse.

But she doesn't know how long she is going to last like this. What word will destroy her completely. What pain will finally be too much.

Part of her still doubts that Kaya is affected in any significant way by her. The spare, the girl who always gets ignored. How could this ever happen?

It's not possible.

And yet...

what if it is what if it is what if it is what if it is

*

What exactly did she do to him to be dragged into this twisted game of revenge? Kaya muses.

And of course, the answer is nothing. Nothing at all.

She bears no responsibility for the rage that boils inside him, threatening to spill over and destroy everything in its path. She has no fault for the dark shadows that loom around him, for the insecurities that he would never acknowledge out loud, for the fear that he will always be left behind, that he will never be good enough.

He does not know her that well, but he did pay attention to her a bit, he noticed some things. She's living her own special kind of hell - what use is it to add his own on top of that?

It would be bad.

And yet...

maybe not that bad maybe not that bad maybe not that bad maybe not that bad

*

In spite of herself (don't dream, Suna, don't you dare), her heart flutters when he compares her to a water spirit.

he doesn't know that she cannot fly because they cut off her wings until there was barely anything left anymore

He does try to keep his distance. Says he won't come to her sister's celebration because he does not want to cause any more tension, but she insists.

she doesn't know that something in him warms up when hearing her words, because he sees himself reflected in her eyes, and it's almost like he's a human being, and it's almost like he matters

*

She can't go to his room, she can't, she won't. She already risked more than she could possibly imagine by leaving the mansion with no permission to go with him at the market, she can't take one single step further.

But İfakat insists that she should, because he got in a fight and got wounded because of her, so she gives in. And really, a part of her might have been on board with it all along.

She should be afraid. She saw his anger, the way it exploded almost unprovoked. She should be, but...

but this is her choice, hers and no one else's, and it might result in heaven or hell, but it's the first time when she feels she might be in control of something, when she feels she's more than a simple pawn

He thought she would be scared of him, but she's not. Quite the contrary, she surprises him by knocking at his door and offering to apply some cream to the wound he got when fighting with those guys in the market.

It goes against everything he knew, or he thought he knew, about her upbringing, about who she is as a person. She either likes him that much... or she is just that desperate.

Neither option is good, and he should put a stop to everything before it's too late.

it's hard when she is so close he can smell her perfume, the sweetness of her breath when she blows over his eyebrow, where they hit him, and if only someone could heal all of his wounds like that

He tells her they should stop. He tells her it's too soon. He tells her she's not sure of her feelings.

She freezes, mortification taking over her entire being. Of course she interpreted all of it incorrectly. She bet on an illusion and lost again. And she knows she will never be able to look properly into his eyes again, and tells him as much.

Oh, and it's so familiar to him, the way tears suffocate her voice, the effort she makes to keep her head high, to not crumble. He knows it. He lived it.

He only tried to be kind, the way he knew how to be, at least, but his kindness hurt her.

She's brave, the way she tries to stop crying, the way she tells him nothing happened, like she's trying to convince herself.

this is another nightmare and then she will wake up and she will lock everything down and she will survive because she has to

He stands still, looking at her, understanding in his eyes.

he knows, he sees her now

With measured steps, he approaches her, the decision taken before he can even be properly aware of it. She could step back, get out, but she does not. Brave girl.

There's nothing tender in the way he grabs her face, but his fingers wiping her tears feel gentle on her skin. She closes her eyes, breathes in, breathes out, and reaches out to him, touching his cheek with her hand, his own hand immediately moving to cover hers. Like he's not allowing her to let go.

Like they are the only remaining living beings in the entire world.

Then he kisses her.

he tastes like hope and dreams and desire and everything she never dared to wish

she tastes like salt and desperation and want and everything he never knew he needed

*

it turns to hell two seconds later

but when all is said and done and after all the tears and commotion, there are no regrets to speak of

#Yalı Çapkını #Yali Capkini #Suna Şanlı #Kaya Sönmez #Suna Sanli #Kaya Sonmez #KaySun #fan fiction #You Touched My Face and All Life Was Erased #writing #made by me #oh yes you guessed it - another work related to the clown show #tons of angst in this one #these two make me so emotional on a regular basis #I can't remember the last time I wrote so much in such a short time for a fandom #maybe never

[prismatoxic]

was there ever a moment where laios accidently hurt chilchuck, because that could happen when a very short person dates a very tall sometimes or maybe in their first adventures together (i havent finished the manga yet but i dont mind) - 🐿 anon (starting to sign my asks with this since i already sent some and dont want you to be uncomfy :[ )

dw anon i'm not uncomfortable!!! just kind of reeling about multiple people wanting to talk to me this way. like wow... is this what it feels like to be respected......

i do appreciate a signature though!! for context if nothing else :3

given that they knew each other for 3 years before the start of the canon story, i think there were a lot of opportunities for laios to not really appropriately judge his own strength relative to chilchuck's size. like, he traveled with dandan for a bit both when he started out and when he and falin started their own party, but i don't think laios and dandan ever got especially close. chilchuck, by virtue of being a party staple, was more likely to be interacted with physically.

in those first 3 years i'm sure he chewed laios out at least once for being a clumsy oaf and causing damage, but like... laios would be so upset. and once chilchuck made it clear that he wanted laios to fuck off, he'd go mope about being a bad person while falin healed whatever happened. so after one or two such times, chilchuck would realize just how deep laios's remorse was and begrudgingly be more forgiving. at the same time, laios would learn to be careful.

by the point of the canon story, chilchuck trusts laios, even if he doesn't tend to admit it. that doesn't mean it won't still happen, but laios is also so gentle when they have any reason to physically interact, so it's not usually something he specifically did that causes harm. (like in chapter 56, how laios himself didn't lay a hand on chilchuck even though his advice got chilchuck hurt.)

once they're in a relationship... that opens up whole new avenues of injury. laios is so gentle, but chilchuck kind of doesn't want him to be, and as it turns out he can take more than either of them might have thought, sexually speaking. still, if laios DOES go too hard, chilchuck really can't prevent the downward spiral that results. so it's less "you didn't do anything wrong" and more "okay, well, we know that's not gonna work now, so let's approach this differently going forward". and some mutual comfort.

hornybrain says chilchuck can take it all and take it rough, but even with a more realistic approach, i think he learns to be communicative about his comfort level and they both work out what feels good and what feels bad. and if chilchuck sometimes doesn't communicate because a certain amount of pain is fun for him, well, don't let laios find out.

other than that, living together invites opportunities for stepping on toes, getting trapped when laios rolls over in his sleep, affectionate roughhousing that needs to be adjusted for their size discrepancy... laios never stops feeling bad when chilchuck gets hurt, but they probably work out a system where chilchuck gets to smack him if it happens. honestly, it's more for laios--he feels less bad about it if they're "even". (and chilchuck really cannot damage him much unless he's trying VERY hard to.)

#tox answers

[jotadoul]

🥰 anka and i are sharing a prion disease right now so we're rewatching the JJBA OVA. and okay. maybe it was the weed but i think it might be... i think it's my favourite thing ever made. that's ever existed. for all time. it's my favourite thing that exists. my favourite thing that Is. it really does makes me feel exactly like the ending of HEAT... LOL and i'm serious about this. it's like a stun gun or like being sandblasted where i'm shot outside of my body helpless to what's happening. horrible feeling and i love it very much.

and i feel soooooooo fucking VINDICATED because i dug deep into japanese forums + blogs and found people celebrating it ;__; there are discussions from this year (2024) even! people agree that it's gorgeous and that if you're going to watch (or even read) any version, it should be this one. that it rewards you on rewatches... which is true. every time i see it, i find something new, some extra bit of care that goes toward the structure of the mood. so many subtle movements in the acting, so much elegance to the balance of exposition in the dialogue. mainly in the japanese version, but it's not like it's lost in the english dub, just different. the voice actors did an amazing job with tone— notably there's this shaky tightness in Jotaro's voice during moments of fear/stress that enhances his expressions, actions.

i found people talking about the tension, acting, a wonderful review on the use of shifting, dynamic lighting throughout the OVA, the way the sound design— engineered by Skywalker Sound with score by a very young (~19) Marco D'Ambrosio— fills in SO MUCH for the animation with tasteful specificity in implying things like unique weight for footsteps, for Avdol's rings, or how the sound of Geb is like a strange layered scream. and fortunately found many people talking about being in awe of n'doul's humanity and how he has serious rizz lol and that he, in any version, is the only serious sobering moment of the glory gods... WAAAAH then i come on twitter or whatever and people are like "looks like shit, worst fight in the thing," and it's like jesus h. christ get a LIFE. i'm sorry you were tricked and lied to, but bad taste can be fixed if you just open your heart a little.

i do not feel moved whatsoever to watch the rest of the TV series (i made it up to the hunting episode of DIU.) something can be faithful and also a major downgrade, by intending to be as faithful as possible, misses the elements that make it what it is. besides, modern anime looks like real shit right now and i won't force myself through it solely because it exists. but i love this adaptation. i would rather see a beautiful interpretation that prioritises an effective, effecting mood, that tries to compromise with purpose and synthesise the source into what an animated version— the short film that this is— can do for it. what the form can heighten. there are little movements, upticks in speed or anxious stillness. the breathless timing and gravity of jotaro touching down and star platinum ripping right out of him like a major leaguer performing another major league hit. n'doul reacting to iggy, jumping slightly while kneeling. jotaro wiping off his fingers with a hanky and then rubbing them together. the entire scene with polnareff on the crates. oh GOD and the opening with the inverted sun... the cane... the cane scene cannot Not destroy you, be honest.

why did they include the red granite obelisk, notably from aswan, one of which was at one time commissioned by hadrian for his boyfriend antinous who drowned in the nile? that didn't have to be there, but isn't it beautiful? (and they put the eye hieroglyph right where we can see it... uuugh.) never mind the actual canonical content, with jotaro and n'doul mutually captivated, delighted, by each other's skill until the end. it's so painful knowing the inevitable outcome but it still somehow sneaks up on you with the way it's paced and i love to be rocked by it every time. the only guy ever to be spared on purpose— respecting him that much! and the respect is mutual! jesus, his monologue! he's the only one to be mourned. THE only one to be buried. by hand. alone. the fight begins under high noon sun and the burial completes at dusk. he's 17. fuck me.

i love when a story is never allowed to fully wrap up into the typical "and it was all worth it!" sort of vibe, which, in a way, is what happens, but it never rises to the point where... where that positivity matches the intensity of what was shown to you previously, or that those losses are meant to be forgotten in the wake of righteousness. and as far as i can recall, this is something araki has perfected over time. i'm thinking about the brutal bit in DIU with josuke carrying? dragging? okuyasu, and the particulars of kira's fate. but i'm REALLY thinking of VA, with giorno &co. in the office, and the epilogue. and then obviously SO. and then SBR. and JJL. this approach, the bittersweet heartache or outright mourning, has become a precise weapon and i can see the through-line from SDC. now that i've watched HEAT i can see why araki said that he cries every time he watches it. it's wrenching. and a big part of that is that you don't necessarily expect it because of genre or style flourishes, and that's really special. to be caught unawares, because you were already caught, you've been caught this whole time and now you have to take it.

i now know that yeah. yes. this is The definition of a special interest. because i have to, must, rotate this object in my head compulsively and purposefully so i can see every angle and crevice. i intuitively understand that i shouldn't be so bowled over and bitchy about it after so many years, sooo many years, but i can't help it! you like what you like and this is the benchmark. it pains me that it is so finite. that i've confusingly hung my heart on something that no one on earth could give one (1) solitary fuck about, and therefor there is an abrupt end to material. so i AM left rotating shapes in my head sussing out indentations in the form. kinda crazy. but fighting against it is maybe more punishing in a way.

this fight was chosen as the opening to the OVA because it's one where everyone is present. this fight was also going to be the entirety of the OVA, but araki liked it so much he requested more episodes 🥰💕

#jjba ova #n'doul #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #ndoul #ova

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

okayokayokay. for the shipping asks. it is my moral duty to ask you about feenris <3 (and also krisnix if you want to do two of them)

HELLO, KATE, MY DEAREST FAVOURITEST PERSON 💖💘💗💝💓💝♥️♥️💓💖 I will do both, thank you for indulging me <3

Feenris:

THEY! THEM! <333! Honestly, I could keep talking about them forever and ever because! There's so much to their relationship! But I've talked about them A Lot, so I'll just explain the boxes I've ticked fdhdkfh

(I said I wouldn't talk a lot, and then I did wSJSKDH it's all under the cut)

The love at first sight was for me, btw. Like, I saw Iris and decided, yep, this is the ship I get obsessed over. Her power. Anyway, most of these are self-explanatory but I think I'll explain the 'complicated' boxes.

I've said this before, but I think they're always going to be a little bit in love with each other (and know it), even though they won't reignite their relationship. (Although, if Capcom did a 180 and decided they were going to be a thing, I would jump on that so fast. Thematic and narrative inconsistencies be damned; I am a hypocrite) I think they've both entertained the idea of starting over at least once, but it's just too messy. Like, although their relationship wasn't built on lies, there was still A pretty substantial lie involved. Add that with the fact that it's inevitably mixed with Iris's complex feelings about Dahlia and the pain from BttT on both sides, and you get Maybe We Shouldn't Be Together Actually. That's why they got the 1/2 on the normal, healthy relationship because, at their core, they really are sort of soulmates!! And that's what makes this all worse!!

I think they could make it work, but only after they've both made peace with everything that happened on their own. Like they need to think things through without the other person around first, and then talk things out. Right now, though, them getting together would just feel like they're both having some kind of coinciding mid-life crisis. It just wouldn't work for me hskdhd

Only reason they didn't get the 'in specific situations' box was because I realised that it's less a situational thing and more a characterisation thing for me? The candy-floss fluff Feenie describes their original relationship to be, while cute, doesn't really do much for me. But if you take the Frankenstein version of their relationship which I've pieced together from one (1) sprite parallel and a few of their interactions in BttT, where it was something that had to be built and has a foundation of pure, deep understanding of one another, then I'm all over it. And it's the same with their post-breakup relationship for me. I don't want a rehash of what they had before; I want a complicated but real relationship that acknowledges what happened, isn't afraid to confront it and move forwards. IF they were to get back together, which I don't think they should. I'll admit that I do maybe want them to be together forever and ever and ever, but they're one of those ships that I think would fall in love with each other in any universe regardless (no matter how those end), and in this one, I think the best case scenario is for them to move on with other people while still having that extremely strong romantic-platonic bond between them. It's complicated and a bit strange, but I feel like it's a non-threatening bond. They love each other, they always will, and it's because of that love that they won't pursue anything further than a deep friendship. Idk, I just want them to be happy, and I think they deserve to be happy with each other still in their lives!!! Is that so much to ask!!! Is it, Capcom!!!! I'm wailing!!!!

Krisnix:

Ohhh, my God. Ohhhhhhh my GODDDD.... Where do I even begin with Krisnix. They're like a. Umm. 'I would take a bullet for you just as readily as I would pull the trigger' pair to me. I gave them a half on the 'is it even shipping anymore' box because I feel like canon does pretty much state that they were... idk what they were, but there was definitely something going on between them, but any acknowledgement of this from canon would damage me irreparably. They're canon, but I Don't Want to Know, I Do Not See 🙈 HSKHSKDB

Krisnix to me has, like, weird parallels to Feenris. WHICH IS REALLY ODD, BUT LIKE. It's this. Wanting. Of someone who is kind (although Kristoph was probably faking it 95% of the time) and gentle and so, so beautiful and who understands, when you're so damn lonely. It's about Phoenix having too much love in his heart and looking for it in all the wrong people (with Dahlia rather than Iris in their case), because he has friends! He's just dumb about them sometimes, which leads to him going for people like Kristoph and! The weird thing is that! I think it was real!! In a weird way!!!

I think there was some kind of maybe not quite love, but the murmurings of it at the edges of this strange psychosexual obsession they have going on, and I think neither of them wanted to acknowledge it. Because Phoenix isn't stupid. I'm sure he knew that Kristoph wasn't all that he was making himself out to be, but he ignored it because Kristoph was kind, and present, and smart and comforting and gorgeous and attentive when Phoenix was the opposite of being even presentable at times, both physically and socially. And with Kristoph I think it's like. I think he knew? Subconsciously. That Phoenix didn't completely buy his act, but there was this... assurance, in that fact. Like Phoenix was probably the closest a person ever came to seeing through his genteel, put-together facade, and Phoenix stayed. It's breathes of acceptance, even though Kristoph probably doesn't realise that that was what kept him staying with Phoenix. There's a nice little lie he can rely on to tuck away the truth that he likes Phoenix Wright in a way; that lie that he's just keeping an eye on him so Phoenix doesn't get to close to the truth. And if that lie occasionally leads to dinners, and real laughter, and conversations that brush the edges of who Kristoph is beneath the mask... if it leads to him not keeping his hands off Phoenix, then, well... it doesn't mean anything. It's all a lie, after all.

Idk idk. I think they were weird sort of friends and that line Kristoph says in jail about Phoenix's friendship never being true lives in my head rent free because like! What if he meant it?? What if it actually hurt??? Even though he didn't want it to!!!! They're just, they're so! Strange! I need to know everything about them, but I don't want to!! I just have to!!! And you know how I said Feenris will always love each other, and that's a comfort to them? I think Krisnix is the opposite. I think they'll always sort-of-not-quite-love each other and hate themselves for it. I think they never wanted this, and they're both still trying to get themselves out of it, but each struggle, each attempt at release, just has the noose going tighter and tighter until, one day, it's going to break. And, when it does, I want to be there to see what happens.

#THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR ASKING ME THINGS KATE ILY FOREVER AND EVER IN EVERY UNIVERSE 💖💝💓💝💓💗💓💗❤️💕💞💝💖💗💖 #i went insane a bit im sorry for how long this is wjkdhdls #asks #feenris #krisnix

[thesoulesscollection]

Comfort For The Tough (Request)

Request: Hi, again! I have another Toppat storyline request. It's a hurt/comfort, maybe Right worried/sad about something and Reginald trying to calm him down, which Reginald isn't quite used to because it's usually vice-versa?

Hey, I'm so terribly sorry that your request took me so long to finish. Been dealt a bad hand of writer block and other things. Like always you or anyone else interested can send in any request - it may take me a while though.

Tw/Tags: Canon Divergence, Toppat Henry, Mentioned Henry, Mild Angst, Hurt/Comfort, & Mild Panic Attacks

Reginald's heart leaps up into his throat, a hand clasped over, left helpless he stands aside uncomfortably where his love is in the midst of a horrible panic attack. 

"It's going to be okay" He sat on his knees, gently prying the clammy hands away from the man's crumpled, scarred face, "You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you again" 

This truly amazed him, how the man, so big and buff in size, an intimidatingly gruff force to beckon with, can curl up small it's got to be painful. 

"You don't need to say anything, dear. I'm here" Scooting closer, he was now a few inches, intending for Right to make the final decision if desired. 

"... I-I'm so sorry…" The redhead manages to croak, a teary eye looks up as the other glowing red stares lifelessly ahead at no one in particular. 

"Whatever are you sorry for? There's no reason why you should?" 

Unraveling his tangled up limbs, the man straightens his posture, quickly attempting to wipe the tears that stained his face, "I… Didn't do my job properly. I-I promised to protect you but I didn't… I got hurt. Badly. I was helpless to do anything… Y-you. You were in danger an-"

"You did all that you could. That's all I could ever ask from you" Reginald cups his partner's damp cheek, thumb able to dry the tears, "Nobody would've thought that. He… Would have a chainsaw on his person and that he'll use it on you. We did what ought to be done so the past is best forgotten"  

When Reginald came down from that high himself, dealt with the danger of having a total stranger break into their airship, likely to steal information or for worse. The latter had not been true, far from so as he was choked by his own gold necklace hanging off the ship's edge, a military plane a bit off. A million things had gone through his mind at the time, the state of his clan if he was arrested, and whether his devoted deputy was alive. Gosh, he's stricken with terror, yet he didn't intend to express such weakness to the intruder who brought him to such a dire situation, he's much tougher then what people often perceive him. Even when giving the reign over to the stranger, Reginald knew to always think ahead just in case and he had no qualms in taking what's rightfully his back.  

However, such plans came to a halt when he heard the horrid news, his beloved is left in a worse condition nobody expected him to come unscathed. The angry bruise across his neck faded by now is nothing compared to his partner's horrid state, left for dead, injured permanently never to be the same again. 

"I thought that I got a good handle on the dang kid. I've done this before on my own and won… Then w-why is this one so dang different... It seems like he got this unnatural luck on his bloody side and it infuriates me. Like he knew what was gonna happen next" 

Soon seething anger replaces the bubbling panicking anxiety, voice crackling in pitch as Right’s freckled, tanned face scrunches up, turning to a bright, flushed hue. His good hand balls up into a tight fist, the other lays limp on his lap. 

Shaking his head, Reginald sighs, "I know, darling, I know it hurts. You may not feel all too confident but please, don't you worry" 

"I d-don't…" Taking in a deep, shallow breath then exhaling through his flared nostrils, Right felt a smidgen better, not completely whole, "... I-I'm still confused… Wha… Why did you allow him in here? To our clan, your pride and joy when he was sent here to dismantle us. Why did you let him be our new leader… After everything he put us. Me through…" 

When Right continued to hesitantly inch forward, he kept a distance like it wouldn't be his best choice. The bigger man is a shaky mess, wearily eyeing him, cautious, similar to a scared caged animal. Hurt is made evident in his wounded, half robotic expression and what got to Reginald the most is the fear.   

"It… It wasn't my best idea, okay so I'll be truthful with you there. I was terribly scared and for a split second without a thought, I blurted it out" Reginald mumbles out his admission, stiffly shrugging, instinctively holding his partner's hand, squeezing it in silent comfort. "That he won, I gave him the title. I didn't desire for any of this to happen, you know"

"That's outta be the stupidest idea you got yet, Reg" 

"I know, really, I know. I do have a backup plan in case something goes askew. I have a sneaking suspicion it will" 

One day soon enough that grimy, no good thief will trip on his own feet to which when that finally happened Reginald would be there to return the crown rightfully back on his head. It has to be at any moment that the careless scoundrel will fall apart as the man doesn't stand a chance in the clan against his superior years as leader.  

"Most important is that you're safe. Alive. With me. So we can worry about this later"

Right raised a brow, skeptically, now sat beside Reginald, lying his head on the man's shoulder, "You better. I… Can't stand him... He scares me…" Breathing remains haggard, hand clammy when it grips Reginald's for the comfort.

"I know, dear. I'm sorry" 

In his head Reginald, determined, sets a plan to remove the dangerous threat with whatever it takes, despite the possible serious consequences. 

#Requested Fic #Ask Box Is Always Open #Asks Are Always Appreciated #Anon Or Not #Thsc Fic #Thsc Au #CopperRight #Reginald Copperbottom #Right Hand Man #Thsc Reginald Copperbottom #Thsc Rhm #Hurt/Comfort #Mild Angst #Angst #Minor Violence #Minor Whump #Minor Panic Attacks #Panic Attacks #Henry Stickmin Collection #The Henry Stickmin Collection #Henry Stickmin Au #Henry Stickmin Fic #Henry Stickmin One-Shot

[llycaons]

ep38 (2/3): heartbreaking: the worst person you know just came out

man I feel like xxc is SUCH a romantic. he likes being in love he likes having a partner he's drawn to those idealized fairy-tale romances he doesn't look too deeply below the surface (consciously or not) because he just loves having that kind of connection with someone. and ah he and song lan were perfect for each other. if not for that foolish mistake...! but tragically he's not a main character so his suffering will lead not to a happy ending but to death

anyway. scream? I assume these are yi city residents? fuck, but that's so many. an entire city

he just loves giving those expressions to xy for no reason. unhinged menace

this is honestly hilarious. obviously 'all he wanted was a domestic life with famer's market trips uwu' is a patently absurd claim because look what he DID with that life but I cannot lie this is very funny to me. like sure maybe DEEP DOWN that's all he wanted but my sympathy for him is like. nonexistent because look what he chose to do

also. this man is gasping in fear. does xxc not notice?? willfully ignorant, perhaps

SONG LAN!!!! thank god you're here there is such bullshit going down here xxc needs you. he just lit up so much when he heard about xxc

she's such a little survivalist <3

omg remember that translation meta that described sl's answer as like 'he is world-endingly beautiful' or something? first of all he was right. they casted xxc perfectly, second of all how the hell did she write this and not make them canon gay. insane.

this kills me bc at this point SL KNOWS but I don't think he even considered approaching this with the care he would have needed to. and why not just confront xy? it's not like he knows xy has a tool to make xxc kill him

also sl is standing here in broad daylight and xy just walks past him? I mean his back is to sl but that's weird, I feel like he'd notice him just STANDING there esp if a-qing jerks away and hides

damn I hope she hasn't been hiding every time xy is around. that's her home too. she could technically leave but I doubt she wanted to abandon xxc. and she's not likely to trust any of the sects to intervene either even if she told them. and I don't think she understands that xy is making xxc kill living people

witnessing sl see how xy treats xxc (familiarly, cruelly, lying) is like. that IS a man watching someone he loves involved with someone else who's hurting them. not even jealousy, just heartbreak and righteous anger. li bowen NAILED it

I don't think sl and xxc were ever actually together which just makes this entire thing more exquisitely painful

THE SINGLE TEAR

oohh and the BLOOD

at this point a-qing is distressed enough to grab onto wwx for comfort :(

it's not often that I see the xxc/xy situation described as abuse but xy DID abuse his power over xxc to trick him into murdering people (and then the heavy implication that they were in a relationship too 😬)

I love this expression from SL. no detached justice here. this man is furious and ready to kill

this fight scene is actually good? so many fight scenes in this show are bad and this one just rules. the chemistry, the action, the drama, the tragedy. what a neat and tight little narrative

ohh double-meanings. KILL HIM SONG LAN

this was so insane of xxc to do. man had one great love of his life and he dug out his eyes for him then walked away 😭

this is so funny though. he is the worst. oh SHIT THERE'S THE CHEETAH-PRINT ROBES. what a slay

also now xy won't stop rubbing it in his face and playing on sl's insecurities. deflecting from his own crimes. as jgy does, later in the temple. xy probably learned from him honestly. but don't fall for it song lan!!! he is literally using xxc to murder people!!!

this is a taunt eerily reminiscent of wwx. his voice goes up all high, like 'awww, were you SAD? huh?' wwx taunts like this, all sarcastic. but also he's not like, evil

BITCH YOU'RE THE ONE LYING AND MANIPULATING HIM

when sl's tongue gets cut out, a-qing gets all this splashed on her. ugh

NOOOOOOOO XIAO XINGCHEN!!! THAT'S THE MAN YOU LOVE!!!

#cql re-rewatch #this is so upsetting!!! bro!!!!

[bonefall]

sorry I;m new and it's a lot to catch up on but can you briefly explain your better call mapleshade au?

Sure thing! As long as you don't mind that I'm gonna hijack your ask to answer a few other meta things at the same time! @katiek101 Rounding up your replies over here.

Btw never be afraid to just ask me questions about stuff, I need to update my Masterpost because I haven't added to it in a couple weeks but I'm always willing to just link people to stuff when asked!

What is the Better Call Mapleshade AU?

I summarized it in this reblog, which also contains @nightly-ruse design for BCM Mapleshade!

"Mapleshade is able to get into StarClan through a very slim ruling out of sympathy for the loss of her kits. She’s a prosecutor/defense attorney motivated by her own desire to be highly revered, playing as a literal “devil’s advocate“ against the awful choices we see StarClan make in canon.

In contrast to StarClan being the ‘council of well-meaning angels‘ who cause bad outcomes, Mapleshade is a self-concerned demon who makes good ones. Because of that, she looks somewhat out of place. An opposer for StarClan, a devil for a good cause.

The AU was born out of some joking with “Snowbird Anon” (hence the name #Better Call Mapleshade AU) and then evolved into an actual premise because my followers are literally the coolest"

It is separate from the #Bonefall Rewrite, but was inspired by aspects of it, namely a trial scene that is going to happen in Darkstar's Commandment.

though to be fair, I am considering just absorbing it into the rewrite. but for now they are still two separate, but related concepts

Do you plan to write/publish any aspects of the Bonefall Rewrite? Where would it be posted if so?

I WISH. Unfortunately I'm chronically unable to finish anything and only motivated by talking directly to people (I actually write first drafts of college essays in discord DMs). In a perfect world I would love to make full multi-chapter fics of the Super Edition rewrites such as Darkstar's Commandment and Firestar's Quietus, though.

Maybe one day, if I can speak to a psychiatrist! **laughs in undiagnosed neurodivergence**.

SO for now, everything is notes! Notes notes notes and rough drafts. The things I AM able to finish. If I ever wrote out anything, I would upload it to AO3. I promise I would make a post if that ever happens.

THE CURRENT NOTES I'M EDITING: Darkstar's Commandment, a follow-up story to Mapleshade's Vengeance, following Darkstar as she establishes the law about protecting kittens.

Blackstar, Russetfur, Rowanclaw

I powered through all of the "History Has Its Eyes On You" series in like 3 days between bus rides! I really like the take on them being a complicated couple (I keep thinking of that line, "their nests were as close as could be without being close at all") and my favorite story was the one where Russetfur went to bury Smokepaw.

Things are really different in my take, though! I see Blackstar as exclusively MLM and Russetfur is his WLW bestie. If Russet has children, they'll be honor dammed and raised by someone else.

I think you will quite like what I'm planning for Russetfur's death. It's a moment of deep pain for Blackstar that makes him relapse into some old, bad habits, leaving him wide open for Sol's influence.

Blackstar's sister Fernshade is going to have surviving children with Wolfstep (Ivytail is one of them, who eventually has Gullswoop), and I'm considering giving Flintfang a kitten or two as well. So there won't be a need for Blackstar to have kids anyway, besides, I like the idea that he's sort of Ivytail's embarrassing uncle, in a ShadowClan way where he's super intimidating to other clans.

And so Rowanclaw won't be part of that family... he is a son of Brokenstar. Same litter as Littlecloud, from Newtspeck. He will be bonding heavily with Tawnypelt over a shared experience of inheriting something VERY heavy.

Firestar's Quest with Brokenstar Details

The good deets are in this ask over here, but I really need to sit down and make a draft of it sometime soon. I'm held up on Darkstar's Commandment first, lmao

In a nutshell, Brokenstar was actually a nature spirit the whole time, the ghost of the 5th tree at Fourtrees. After the exile, the oak tree was blighted, fell over, and cracked on the highstone. It broke in the shape of Broken's tail; an omen of the curse that would befall them, revenge for the greatest sin of the clans.

This is (Brokenstar's Cataclysm)

After his death, he reconnects to these memories. In order for his restless spirit to finally be given peace, SkyClan must be resurrected. Runningnose enlists Firestar to help because he's such a little goody-goody two shoes and could never let an ancient wrong go unrighted. Hilarity ensues.

This is (Firestar's Quietus)

#Firestar's Quietus #Brokenstar's Cataclysm #Bonefall Rewrite #Blackfoot #Blackstar #Russetfur #Flintfang #Brokenstar #Firestar #Ivytail #Rowanclaw #Rowanstar #Littlecloud #Newtspeck #Better Call Mapleshade AU #Also I mean it! Feel free to ask me anything #I would like to consider myself an approachable person #I keep anon on (for now) exactly so people can ask questions they might find 'embarrassing' without fear #I don't mind linking to other posts or summarizing premises #Mapleshade

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

20 for Riot. And „F“ for you.

Heeehehehehe I'm answering all three here if that's alright. Sooo you asked, 20, 24 and 38, AND C, F and G

<3

20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

Mmmhmmmm, well, Riot's only experience with familial love came from her (two sets of) grandparents, because her parents were always away with their work, so her views on family love are a bit askew, and maybe also idealised (in the sense that she thinks it should be X way, but she's not sure if it really is).

That is one of the reasons why she is slow to trust, but if you earn that trust it is rooted deep and solid. The same way, if you betray that trust, you've lost it forever (and you'd be lucky if she doesn't cut you out of her life for good - fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me).

If she had to explain the difference between one or another, before Transnistria I think she would have said sexual attraction. If she feels sexual, is not familiar or platonic (she does not (ever) do one night stands, only has sex if there's a connection there). After Transnistria, she thought she'd never feel that again, for fear, or self consciousness, but she's seeing it was a lie.

(Deep and sincere) Familiar love for her is what she feels for Captain Price, Gaz, Gabi, Dr. Heather, Kate Laswell, Zhar and Nik. She'd gladly give her life for them, and would be destroyed emotionally if any of them were missing from her life. She doesn't have many friends as it is, doesn't speak from anyone from her life before the military except for some neighbours that take care of her house and business.

Platonic love is what she feels for Johnny. They are each other's person, and she'd plainly die, no questions, if she didn't have him in her life. She knows (believes) she needs Soap more than he needs her back (which is a fat lie, Johnny feels closer to her than to his own elder sisters), and the mere thought of losing him gives her anxiety.

Romantic love is something she hasn't experimented before, or at least not to the degree she is now (lol). She doesn't have much experience under her belt, because unless she feels a spark she won't make a move or accept a move on her. Before, she would have said the difference was the sexual attraction, now she'd say it's the deep, painful, addicting longing, the greedy and selfish want, the need to have and to keep.

24.  Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

Riot considers sex as natural as breathing, even though she doesn't partake in casual sex, and has no problems talking about it, maybe even a bit bluntly sometimes. Not with everyone, of course, for example with Soap has had deep, long talks about it (even giving him tips with previous partners). If you ask her anything about sex, 95% of the time she'll answer.

38. What memory do they revisit the most often?

Riot is not someone who tends to dwell on the past, it is what it is and all that.

She misses her grandparents more than she misses her own parents, so it would be a memory from her home in the mountains, next to the sea, where the forest almost gets cut off by the cliffs over the shore, taking care of the cows and sheep at her grandparent's farm, the smell of the Cantabric sea beating against the rocks, the scent of the trees, the chirping of the birds, the howling of the wolves at night.

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

Well, I read a lot (and still do) about the canon, trying to fit her as best as possible without changing things (at least too much). That's why I decided to set my story AFTER Las Almas and all that (and next game is going to fuck me up, I'm dreading it...).

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

Most of the time, pride. She is everything I am, but better, way better, and at the same time, I also feel sadness for the very same reason.

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

Their inability of accept praise (pot calling kettle here), to accept they're good enough, and that they are stubborn like a mad bull, the type where she'll be bleeding but pushing forward just because she has to live up to her reputation (too stubborn to just lie down and lie). She's Riot, FFS.

#oc ask game #oc asks #i love asks #thanks for the ask! #ask game #christine riot vega #riot vega

[10holmes]

~ Currently caught by some Xue Yang angsty unrequited love for Xiao Xingchen feels ~

(Which have actually resulted in me starting another WIP, I so didn't see coming... And is already 3,000 words long^^)

So...

Imagine a post-canon reincarnation AU, after XY has clawed his way out of Diyu, tooth and nail, going through immeasurable pain and uncountable hardships (hellish punishment to repent and all), all in order to finally reincarnate and reunite with XXC

He manages to be reborn, memories intact, and eventually finds XXC again.

Maybe it's canon-like and XXC finds him injured and saves him or - to make it more emotionally torturous yet - the two of them somehow end up meeting as children and actually grow up together as family friends, neighbors or school buddies.

And XY, of course, now is the bestest of bois in this new life, just wanting to finally do right by XXC and be with him and love and cherish him as he never could in their previous life. And having XXC (as he doesn't remember the past any longer) now love the real him just as much in turn.

... But then XXC meets SL and falls for him hard (or if XueXiao haven't grown up together, it turns out XXC is already happily married to SL) and, thus, merely considers XY a friend...

So now XY has to deal with such deep heartbreak and painful longing and the hurt of his unrequited love and pining, watching SongXiao be happy and SL get everything XY ever wanted and fought so hard for to obtain...

And maybe this takes such a turn for the worse that XY decides that he really can't and won't be selfish with XXC and, thus, won't force himself in between SL and XXC, or he simply recognizes and accepts that XXC would never be as happy with him as he is with SL, and ultimately XY just wants what's best for XXC after all...

So, in order for XXC to remain happy, XY accepts that he can never be with XXC, but at the same time he can also not get rid of his feelings for him nor continue to live and just be friends with XXC, while having to watch SongXiao having a loving realitionship.

So then, ultimately, with no other reason to go on - because it's only ever been XXC he fought to be reborn and live for, he chooses to kill himself.

He leaves behind a letter for XXC that he does and does not intend for the latter to find, seeing that it might make XXC unhappy to know the truth, but also just having to write it all down once and reveal his true feelings and thoughts after bottling them up for so long...

And then XXC reads it and has a breakdown, maybe finally recalls their past life, and to make it extra angsty, maybe he has actually been toying with the thought of opening up his relationship with SL, to be together with XY as well, because, before that, he had thought polyamory wasn't something he could pursue or that it would hurt his relationship with SL, (who would have actually been on board with it), but now XY will never know... XXC will not get to ask him... to confess his love as well... (to confess that he'd always loved him too, despite everything).

#making this the ultimate fic to rip out anyone's heart that dares to read it #thanks for coming to my ted talk #I'm on it guys #new wip #ramblings in the moment #ooooh this will hurt like a bitch #haven't been possessed by such strong angsty feels since writing Time is Our Worst Enemy #muhahaha #xuexiao #xue yang #xiao xingchen #song lan

[countessrivers]

Yalex 14, 20, 28, 51

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

Clashing moral codes is probably the big one, obviously (Yassen thinks it's fine if millions of people and/or children die. Alex would disagree), but I think that also speaks to interesting ideas about who they both are. Because Alex and Yassen have quite similar starting points, and while there is more time (and trauma) on Yassen's side, I think the outcome is/would be very different. Like, if this makes sense, I think Yassen is more of a survivor than Alex, in the sense that he'll bend, he'll change, he'll do whatever it takes to survive, whereas Alex won't to the same extent.

Alex is resourceful of course, he endures a lot, he's a fighter and he'll fight to survive, but not in the same way Yassen would/did. I mean, could Alex bend without breaking the way Yassen did? Could he stop fighting long enough to survive? Could he twist and change and smother himself enough to live through something like Sharkovsky? Or even Scorpia? Could he make himself kill, again and again and again, when not driven by emotional fueled revenge?

Part of me doesn't think he could, which brings us back to the clashing moral codes where Alex, I don't think, could ever condone doing or even allowing the things Yassen does, even for his own benefit/survival.

This is also something that we arguably do see clash in canon re: the bull thing. Throwing Alex into a ring with a live bull (not to mention allowing a man with a gun who very much wanted Alex dead to stay behind) is an absolute insane choice (Yassen you are insane!) and you can debate whether Yassen would have killed Alex directly in that moment had he been a more pressing threat, but the whole scenario is undeniably dangerous. However, I think, in Yassen's mind, there is a method to this madness. He wants Alex to prove he has what it takes. That he can, that he deserves, to survive. In Yassen's eyes Alex had been given an opportunity to walk away, and he hadn't taken it, so now, he has to prove himself, deal with the consequences, and show that he wants to live, that he's willing to push past pain and fear and humiliation to survive. The whole thing might seem like a cruel, crazy death sentence to Alex, but I feel like, in Yassen's mind, it's a test, a chance for Alex to demonstrate that he can survive, and that he wants it badly enough. Otherwise Yassen might as well get it over with now.

For Yassen, you do whatever it takes to live another day.

Beyond that though, were they to team up properly, no one would stand a chance. Experience to balance out the inexperience, brashness and youthful creativity (recklessness) and precision. Like, I think if Alex could convince Yassen to stop working for mass murderers, then they'd work well together. And purely relationship-wise, their similar traumas and losses, their experience in this world of spies and assassins, would allow for a really deep understanding and acceptance. They could be open with each other in ways they couldn't be with anyone else, understand why they act or respond certain ways

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

No, it's literally ‘Side to Side’ by Nicki Minaj and Ariana Grande.

I don't know if I have a definitive Yalex song (I might have a few Alex ones) but the closest would probably be the theme song, because what is 'The World Is Mine' about if it's not about Alex and Yassen running away together?

28. What are their thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?

Yassen would probably stick with the standard Russian diminutives - Sasha etc, and Alex itself is already a nickname. I feel like Alex would stick with “Yassen”, maybe “Yas” at a push, though he'd pull out over the top, ridiculously cheesy ones if he was trying to be obnoxious.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

It's all about the life saving. The sparing, the refusal to kill or expose, the hesitating, the letting escape. The putting themselves in front of a bullet.

#alex rider #yalex #ask replies

[hellishmoth]

isn’t it funny how Valentino is a moth but everyone around him flocks to him as if he were a flame.

#zick. ♡ i literally never asked for this #me: im not gonna talk symbolism and metaphors on this blog. we leave that stuff out. not here #also me five minutes later: BUT WHAT IF I DID ANYWAY #it pains me because maybe it won't ever be any deep in canon BUT I KEEP THINKING AND THINKING AND TH #rn? thinking about the line 'them came like moths to a flame' by bmth #they*

[ladynestaarcheron]

Lose Sight of the Shore

ao3

shout out to @amchapel who did the math on how fast illyrians can fly, however i did ignore all that because it would be too long. so in this fic illyrians can fly faster than airplanes. don't think about it too hard.

anyway i did not check canon for this fic. it's set after elain was like "oh feyre saved me" and nesta and cassian are sleeping together. au where he actually likes her. enjoy!

---

Fine-tuning his natural Nesta-reading abilities tells Cassian right away what no one else picks up on: she was devastated by Elain today. Hurt beyond he had ever seen her be. He knows that Nesta has the ability to love and feel love deeper than anyone, but the aftermath of trauma and the fading numbness has left her bleeding in pain. It was only exacerbated by her beloved sister showing her cruelty, and it was all Cassian could do not to snarl at her to shut up. He didn't do it for two reasons: one, because Nesta, even broken and dying, would never allow any slight towards Elain, and two, because when Nesta was broken and dying she would simply refuse to accept any sort of help. She hated herself too much for that.

So he waits until they're alone, back up at the House. By then she has shed her detached demeanor and folded in on herself. Each step she takes is effortful. What is she going to do, now that she cannot bury her sorrows in alcohol, in some male? Find some other way to hurt herself. And Cassian won't let that happen. Can't.

As she descends towards her room, he decides to drag her back to him the best way he knows how: by infuriating her.

"Is this really so much worse than the alternative?" he calls.

She snaps her head up, but doesn't turn around.

"I mean, the House does whatever you want," he continues, as though unperturbed. "You have your quiet. You work in a library, which you've probably always wanted to do anyway. You like training, I know you do. Is it so much worse than drowning in a bottle by yourself?"

Nesta turns slowly. Her eyes are alive now, blazing with that fire.

He doesn't stop. "It's not like you've ever wanted to spend much time with your sisters anyway. Or anyone. Right? Not for more than a night." He gives her a lazy grin. "Until me."

Anyone not entirely infatuated by Nesta would cow at the promise of death written on her face, but it only strengthens Cassian's resolve. Anger is better than nothing. It's the nothing that terrifies him. That's what he can never allow to take hold of Nesta ever again. Anger he can work with.

"Maybe if you had some sense of self-control and could redirect blood flow to the minuscule brain floating around your thick skull," she begins, voice icy--Cassian can't help but grin; all he has to do nowadays to pull Nesta back from deep within herself is mention that he knows she likes having sex with him, it never fails to rile her up--"you would realize that it's not that I am at the House, it's that I was placed here without choice. And my only company is a Microchiropetric buffoon who doesn't have the capacity to decide anything for himself and will keep me here forever."

There are a few ways Cassian would like to respond. To sweep her into a bone-crushing hug, perhaps, and beg her to understand that they have to keep her here so she doesn't kill herself in the city. To laugh at her choice of insult. To snap back at her with one of his own.

Instead, he raises an eyebrow. "Who says I don't decide anything for myself?"

She scoffs. "Please. You do only what Feyre and Rhysand tell you. It's pathetic."

He leans against the wall, casual. "I don't always do what I'm told."

"Of course you do. That's why I'm stuck here with you. You're the perfect choice of chaperone. I could beg you to take me anywhere else and you never would."

"First of all," he says, raising a finger, "you know as well as I do that I give you everything you beg for." He doesn't stop to laugh at her snarl. A considerable effort. "Second, I've already said, you know there isn't anywhere else you'd like to go. And third...what say I prove you wrong tonight?"

"I think I've had more than enough of you--"

"Not what I meant, but it's good to see that's where your mind goes," he says with a wink. "I mean I can show you I don't always do what I'm told. And that I'm not here to keep you anywhere." Only here to keep you from throwing yourself off the roof, he thinks, but doesn't say so. He keeps himself mocking, daring.

She takes the bait. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Cassian smiles. She can make herself sound as angry as she wants, but it doesn't matter. He won this round. She's too curious to be upset anymore.

"I can take you somewhere I'm definitely not supposed to." He smirks at the slight surprised look she can't entirely hide. "But you'll have to change."

She glances down at her dress. "Into what?"

"Something fitting a...warmer climate."

She frowns at him. "Where are we going?"

We. She's game. Excellent. He'll drive the pain out of her mind tonight, and prove to her that he doesn't always play by the rules. That there's nothing he won't do for her.

She won't acknowledge all that, of course. Too soon for her, too big. But it'll be there.

"Get dressed and we'll go," he says, moving past her to go to his own room and choose a more appropriate outfit. "Meet you outside."

Illyrian leathers are out of the question, as are all his siphons. He'll be recognized immediately. But he has Nesta with him; he will not allow himself to be defenseless. So he keeps the ones on his palm, hoping they'll pass as some sort of jewelry. He hides a bandolier under his light blue shirt. Unassuming, he hopes.

Certainly unexpected, by the way Nesta's eyes widen when she steps onto the veranda. Her distraction lets him take a moment to admire the pale mulberry chiffon flowing around her. The House picked well. It goes down to her ankles, of course, but the sheerness of the fabric essentially leaves her arms bare and it dips lower on her chest than anything she'd wear normally.

"Nice," he says, as she approaches. "But I prefer you in black."

"I'm still wearing black."

Cassian's fingers curl at his sides. She's in a better mood already. Excited at going somewhere new, at breaking the rules. He'd like to tear the pink off her and find the promised black, but tonight isn't about that. Actually, he says to himself, part grudging, part strict, he thinks it's rather important that tonight isn't about that at all. Let Nesta see she isn't just sex to him--even if it scares her to know that.

Leaving the House's protection subjects them to the frigid autumn Night Court air, and with only two Siphons to keep them warm, they aren't immune to it. He's about to apologize, ask her if she'd like to fly back and bring a coat, but she only tucks herself deeper into his arms.

It's just a bit of cold. They'll survive.

Their destination is a straight line down from Velaris, so they fly over the sea. Nesta peers down into the depths, clutching him tighter. Scared to fall, but still curious. He lowers them slowly, so she can get a good look.

"Do you like to swim?" he asks her.

"No," she says sharply.

"Neither do I," he says. "But I have a good alternative."

"So do I. Walking."

He laughs. "I thought you were going to say that I was your alternative."

"In your dreams."

"Count on that."

The hour passes like that, with slight attempts of banter on his part and Nesta mostly shutting him down. Mostly they both stay silent, him just watching her watch the waves.

Nesta hears the city before she sees it, glancing up at him before searching for it on the horizon.

"Is this...the Summer Court?" she asks.

"It is," he says, smug. "Adriata. Their capital city."

"Where Hybern first attacked."

Shit. He didn't even think of that.

"What sort of visit is this?"

"It's got nothing to do with that," he says hurriedly. "Actually, that...the battle was the first time in a century or so that I'd been to the Summer Court. And I haven't been back since."

"Why not?"

He grins at her. "Because I have a lifetime ban."

Her eyebrows quirk. "From..."

"Tarquin's predecessor. Rhys is going to be furious if he finds out. So we'll need to lie low."

They land on a quiet dock. "What did you do?" she asks, looking out onto the city.

"Wrecked a building. Don't look at me like that. It wasn't so dramatic. They should've thanked me for proving to them their crown jewel needed to be fortified."

"Oh, sure," Nesta says, smiling slightly. "Is that why you're in disguise, then?"

"Exactly," he says, taking her hand.

"I think they might recognize the wings, though."

"That's why we need to move fast," he says, leading her off the dock.

"Where are we going?"

"Wherever we want."

Normally he wouldn't like to admit any city's beauty rivals Velaris', but Nesta can hardly blink she's so intent on taking everything in. She doesn't let go of his hand, but tugs him along as soon as they step onto the boardwalk.

It's a while before she says anything, just staring at everything like she's seeing it for the first time. And she is, he realizes. She's seeing this city for the first time--and he's never even shown her Velaris properly. This is the first time she's seeing nightlife.

"Is that Tarquin's palace?" she asks, pointing into the distance.

"Yeah. So we need to steer clear."

"What building did you wreck?"

"Let's not go there. Here, come see this."

There are strips of booths off the boardwalk, leading into the city. He takes her down the road of for food and drink.

"Hungry?" he asks. "They have fresh-caught fish."

She crinkles her nose. "My favorite kind of street food. Fresh caught."

"Don't be such a brat," he says. "Try some. It's fried. It's good."

He gets a big helping for them to share, adding on all the extras. Potato wedges and peas and pickled onions and a sauce Nesta says she'll never try, but he pesters and argues until she opens her mouth to tell him no once more--and then he feeds it to her.

"You--idiot," she says, coughing.

"Good, right? Next time you should just trust me."

"Shut--don't," she says, trying to snap at him, but she can't stop her laughter as she ducks away.

"Oh, just eat it. Quiet, we're getting looks. Come on, this way."

He grabs her hand and pulls her along the street. Maybe they don't need to jump into alleys as often as they do, but...it's fun. The two of them on the run from the whole of Adriata, falling after one another into holes in the wall, crouching behind drink carts while uniformed Summer Court officers walk by.

Nesta picks out chocolates and confections and makes him try one of each.

"You'll owe me in the ring tomorrow," he warns her.

"Enough with your threats. This one's strawberry."

Cassian's carrying a box of sweets Nesta's chosen to bring home to Gwyn and Emerie when they head down the souvenir strip.

"This place is much more disorganized than Velaris," he says to her.

"I like it. I've never liked how far away the Palaces are from each other."

It's the first time she's offered a casual remark about the Night Court--vaguely negative, maybe, but not hateful. Just something she doesn't prefer. And she says she likes it here. She says she's enjoying herself.

"Well, what else do you like? Crown of pearls?"

Nesta huffs a laugh. "I'm perfectly fine without a crown, thanks."

"You'd look good in one." He means it. He loves Feyre, but secretly, secretly, he thinks Nesta is the Archeron sister who fits the role of High Lady.

"My mother thought so too," she says. He's not sure what she means, but then she adds, "But I don't want one. I mean...neither do you."

"You say you don't want to be a warrior."

She huffs another laugh. "Are those the only two options in life? Queen or warrior?"

"I guess not for most people." But she seems...it seems like such a waste, for someone as powerful as Nesta not to utilize her magic for something more. He doesn't quite understand it.

She approaches a booth with bathing clothes hanging from the top, touching her fingers to the brightly colored fabric. "I don't know what I want," she says quietly.

He walks up behind her, closing the distance between them. "You don't have to know," he says in her ear, hand on her waist. "I told you. You have time. You can take all the time you need. And when you need to get away, you can tell me, and I can take you anywhere in the world. We don't have to talk, if you don't want to." He kisses her temple for emphasis. "Just...know I'm here."

She holds still for a moment, two, and then, as she turns to face him, to speak to him--

"Begging your pardon, Lady Nesta," someone says from behind them. "We're incredibly honored to host you tonight. Our High Lord extended his invitation to you as soon as he heard of your presence. I would offer myself as a humble escort to the palace," the Summer Court officer says, clearly the highest ranking of the small envoy behind him, "but the General must take his leave back to the Night Court now."

Cassian meets Nesta's eyes. She's unsure, hand rubbing her waist, gaze darting to look at the slight crowd they are attracting.

He throws an arm around her shoulder. "Oh, but Lady Nesta and I weren't finished with our tour yet." At her nervous glance upwards, he winks at her.

"As I said," the officer continues loudly, moving closer, "Lady Nesta is an honored guest. She may stay as long as she pleases. You, on the other hand--"

"She wanted me to buy her necklace," he interrupts, walking them backwards. "Isn't that right, Nes?"

"Blue pearl," she confirms, deciding she wants to play too.

"Blue pearl," he says to the officer apologetically. "You understand. What the lady wants, the lady gets."

"Once again, the High Lord will certainly have a gift for Lady Nesta when she arrives in her rooms for the night at the palace--"

"Oh, she wants it from me. Don't you?"

"I'm very picky," she says, squeezing his waist.

"So we'll just take...how's this one?" he asks, picking up a string of gems from a booth.

"Those are opals. I wanted blue pearls."

"Blue pearls, right, right...how are--"

"Lady, I must inform you that the General is banned from this city and no one is permitted to do business with him--"

"That one," Nesta says, pointing to a necklace.

"That one. Here," Cassian says, tossing a few coins onto the table. Spectators gasp. "Just about done, then."

"General, you will leave at once--"

"Please," he says, raising a hand. "Lady Nesta wants me to put the necklace on her." He draws it around her, grazing her collarbone and touching the back of her neck far more than necessary. "There," he says. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Lady Nesta," the officer says stiffly. "Please allow me to escort you to the palace. Our High Lord would be delighted to purchase the necklace for you. The General's coin is not accepted here."

"I like that he bought it," she says, touching it. She looks up at him, smiling wickedly. "Do you want to visit Tarquin?"

He sees it in his mind so clearly--crashing into the Summer Court Palace with Nesta, wreaking havoc on the place. When did he get to be such a corrupting influence on her? Oh, but it's such fun...

Perhaps they've antagonized them enough, though.

"I want a pair of earrings," Nesta continues.

He grins. Pair of earrings, then. And they'll leave. "She wants a pair of earrings," he announces. "Matching set? Yes, I think we'll take--"

The male advances, hand on his weapon at his belt. "You put that down--"

"Reckon the coin already covers it--goodbye--"

The flap of his wings sends beads behind him scattering, and he's already off the ground as he sweeps Nesta in his arms and pulls her upwards.

The officer bellows something at the other soldiers, but it's too late, they're already in the air--and Nesta's laughing, anyway, so he can't hear anything else, the whole flight back. Not when he bids Nesta good night on the veranda, not when Rhys flies out of the darkness and shouts at him for ten minutes straight, not even when Amren joins him, clawing her way out of Azriel's arms, and yells for the better part of an hour.

"Oh, get fucked, both of you," he says cheerfully, striding past them and into the House and to his room. All he wants is to go to her, to find the black underneath her dress, but...another night. Tomorrow, maybe. She needed a day like this. They both did.

The next morning Azriel informs them that Lady Nesta is no longer welcome whenever she pleases at the Summer Court, and can arrive at personal invitation only.

"Hm," she says, tilting her head. Her new pearls glint in the sunlight streaming in through the window. "Shame. Guess we'll have to find somewhere else to go."

She's wearing the jewelry he bought her.

Cassian grins. "We will."

She gives him a small smile as she leaves to the library. Az says something to him about making him look bad as a chaperone, but he doesn't listen. He doesn't care.

Day Court, he decides. Give Nesta another reason to wear thinner dresses. And Helion will never ban either of them.

Although perhaps that's part of the fun.

#nessian #nesta archeron #acotar fic #acosf #hope y'all like it please lmk #i see your 'nesta influences cassian to be a prim courtier' and i raise you 'cassian influences nesta to be a hell-wreaking demon' #this is entirely unedited and unbetaed so if something doesn't make sense yes it does< #that was supposed to be a heart

[valkyrieofedenia]

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Not Letting You Out Of My Sight

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Pairing: Rain x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of abusive past

Summary: after Mileena almost kills you, you go back to a very old friend

Note: This is not completely canon to MKX and MK11 but some things needed to be altered

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You weren't sure what you were supposed to say. You were sitting in front of Mileena stitching up her face while she sat in silence, occasionally tensing up in pain from the needle piercing her skin. You sort of blamed yourself for what happened to Mileena even though it was Rain who was to do this.

It was a deep cut too, you knew her right eye would never work again from how it had glossed over into a pure white and Mileena had mentioned his vision going blurry in that eye. Once you were done stitching it up, Mileena looked up at you, "so when did you plan to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" you questioned standing up and putting your stuff away, sorting your potions. You really hoped Mileena wasn't hinting at what you think she was.

"About you and Rain..." Mileena's eyes narrowed at you when you froze, your fingers tapping on your table, "how you two used to be old buddy buddies? How you helped him escape even after what he did to Tanya? How you're only helping me because you feel like you need to now that your precious sister Tanya is dead? Maybe how you love Rain?!" By this point, Mileena had stood up and was right in front of you, you gulping seeing the anger showing in Mileena's eye. It reminded you how Shao Kahn used to treat you when you worked for him.

"Mileena I--"

"I bet you're so happy to see me like this huh?" Mileena's hand flew its way to your throat, crushing your throat under her hand, "in pain, only having one good eye left, huh? Was this all some kind of joke to you? Did I ever truly mean anything to you because I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe my friendship meant nothing? Bet your terrified now."

You gasped for air, trying to push on Mileena's chest to get her to let go feeling yourself lose consiousness.

"I wish father killed you," Mileena let go of you pushing you down onto the ground, "get out of sight, I don't want to see your face in Outworld or I will not hesitate to murder you and I won't fail this time at it either."

"But my stuff," you said once you regained air in your lungs.

"Not your stuff anymore, you're on your own now," Mileena opened the door, "you have 10 minutes, I better not see your face again."

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With nowhere else to go, you decided to say hello to an old friend. You were absolutely freezing out here with absolutely nothing to defend yourself. You could only hope that he would want to see you or even remember you and all the times you two shared in the past. You felt like you were gonna turn into ice if you were outside for any longer in the freezing Rain as you knocked on the door.

But the door never opened and eventually you fell asleep, curled up on the porch by the door. You were slipping in and out of consiousness, you'd end up asleep for a few minutes than out again, falling asleep seemed to be the only thing that kept you warm.

Waking back up, you felt your vision be blurry and your head starting to spin. You couldn't even feel your limbs trying to hold onto your shaking cold body as you slowly felt yourself lose consiousness again.

In your frozen state, you felt a pair of arms pick you up, "it's okay I got you, come on come on, you're gonna be okay." You felt something heavy be wrapped around you and heard the door be opened, "come on, we need a fire. Y/N will freeze to death."

"We need to get them warm," you heard another voice, you weren't sure of who it was however.

You felt yourself be dropped gently onto the ground in front of a fireplace, feeling the soft feel of wool curling up behind you along with the heavy robe.

"Will they be okay Rain?" the voice asked the demi-god who was staring down at you. Why had you come all the way out here? Especially at night and during a storm? That was practically a death sentence. He had no clue what would have happened and what he would have done if he was just a few minutes late, "Rain?"

"Go to sleep," Rain said kneeling down onto the floor where you were in front of the fireplace curled up in heavy wool and robe.

"But I'm not tired."

"Just give me some time alone, go home if you must," Rain was trying to make up any kind of excuse he could to get a few minutes alone to himself to think. The person seemed to understood that he was not wanted right now and sadly nodded moving to outside.

Rain looked down at you, his hand hesitantly going to your hair brushing the few strands you had in front of your face out of the way. He had missed you but knew that the separation was for your own safety but now he wasn't so sure being separated was the safest choice now.

Rain's eyes narrowed in curiosity looking at your neck, it'd almost seemed to be bruised as his eyebrows furrowed. He didn't want to assume anything so he decided to ask when you would wake as he smiles to himself, "I am not gonna lose you again."

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You woke up warm and feeling safe, a feeling you hadn't felt for a very long time. Your eyes fluttered open to seeing a heavy wool blanket ontop of you, weighing you down. The fire place in front of you was still burning brightly as you heard the sound of humming coming from the other room. You pulled yourself off the ground, you remembered this place not very well.

You entered the other room where the humming was coming from and you were tackled in a hug by a random person. He smiled clinging to you.

"You're alive! You're alive! I don't even know you but you're alive!" the person laughed clinging onto you. You laughed hugging the the person back. You looked over at the corner of the room over the person's shoulder noticing Rain sitting at a table, a book in his hands, a glass of fancy wine in front of him.

"Morning," Rain said with his usual monotone voice marking the page in his book and taking a sip of his wine. The person let go of you as you made your way over to the table sitting down, Rain's vest still over your shoulders, "you look very nice in a god's vest I must say."

"Thank you for saving my life," Rain nodded sliding a plate over to you of food as you stiffled a laugh, "are you my dad now?"

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," Rain winked before shooing away the person. Rain watched the door close, finally knowing his servant was out of earshot he looked at you in all seriousness, "who put their hands on you."

You were caught off guard by Rain's question, looking at him, his eyes scanning your entire face trying to read your emotions, "no one, I just had a run in with some ferals, that's all."

"Oh so you're trying to tell me that a feral cat grabbed you by the throat as such a rough grip to bruise? Come on Y/N, I've known you for how long and you think I'll fall for something like that?" it was obvious you couldn't just lie to Rain but at the same time, lying would cause less blood shed, "besides you wouldn't just run away like that and almost have yourself killed if everything was fine, just spit it out."

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Because the person that I love just comes to my house out of nowhere after completely disappearing for years of time and almost dies at my door step and then I find bruises on their neck like someone had strangled them?!" Rain yelled catching you off guard. You had never seen Rain so mad at you before, sure you two had arguments in the past but this was different, he never raised his voice at you before.

Rain raised his hand to run it through his hair to calm himself down, however when you flinched seeing his hand go up, he froze. His hands dropping to his sides as he got up from the table and grabbed his jamadhar before walking out the door.

You looked down at your hands, you didn't mean to flinch, it just happened, you didn't mean to scare him like that. You sighed dropping your face into your hands as you silently cried into your arms.

"This was a mistake," you muttered to yourself, getting up from the table. Opening the door, you closed it quietly making sure it wasn't heard by anyone.

The rain poured over your head as you started to walk away, it was like it was always raining here. You were meant to be alone. You thought coming back to Rain would make things better but all you did was make him think that you were scared of him.

You kept walking till you noticed less and less rain and noticed you were in a flower field. Your tears started to drop more as you looked at the flowers, it reminded you of the times you and Rain would spend in the flower fields together, well more you would do the flower picking and he would just follow you, grumbling everytime you would stick a flower in his hair but he never removed the flowers from his hair. You would sit in the grass picking flowers for different decor and dyes while Rain would tell stories of the gods or his own stories. It didn't matter how many times you heard the same story, you loved to hear them everytime.

"Thought you might have wandered off to here," you vision snapped turning around to see Rain. His mask being absent, his black hair in a short braid. You remembered that you were the one that always braided his hair until you taught him to.

"Rain, I'm sorry-"

"Hush," Rain held up his hand moving over to you, his body towering over yours, "just tell me, please."

You looked down at the grass as Rain sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you into his chest. You clung to his body as you felt the tears starting to well in your eyes, "it was Mileena. She found out about us and then she attacked me after I helped treat that scar you gave her."

You felt Rain tense, "I wish I could kill that beast. I can't believe she'd put her hands on you like that."

"It's not the first time," you sighed out, hiding your face in Rain's chest. Rain asked you what you meant as you bit your lip, "while Kotal was still pretty new to his reign and the rebellion was happening, Kotal had grabbed me and held me hostage for a few weeks until I got saved by Mileena, her dying for the first time shortly after. Than I ended up working for Kronika, she promised she'd bring Tanya back, it was a lie however, and Mileena was brought back as you know. Mileena treated both me awfully when she was brought back, she would yell and shame me, and then she'd grab me. It was worse when she found out that Tanya's death was your plan, she had almost killed me in a rage. Than well, you know."

Rain sighed, "Y/N look at me."

You shook your head hiding your face in Rain's chest until he grabbed your chin making you look up at him.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

"I love you," you held onto Rain's hand as he smiled pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you too."

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Thank you for reading, please like and possibly reblog since it helps me out a lot

Taglist:

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#rain #rain x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk #mk x reader #mortal kombat rain #mortal kombat rain x reader #mk rain #mk rain x reader

[starks-hero]

I Remember All of Them

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has a nightmare and it leads to a late night conversation.

Word Count: 2,029

Warnings: angst, mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol

You'd woken up to an empty bed. You had turned on your side and lazily run your hand along the mattress, hoping to find a broad chest or metal arm but instead being greeted with an empty space beside you.

Your feet met the cool floorboards as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood. You couldn't help but worry as you pulled on one of Bucky's shirts and left the room. You tried rationalising your thoughts despite your tired mind. Maybe he just couldn't sleep and went out on a run, he could have been in the bathroom, there were multiple harmless and simple possibilities. But the fear that it might just be something else, something bad, was enough to stir you from bed and go looking for him.

Your footsteps echoed in the hallway as you made your way to the kitchen and you sighed when you found Bucky sitting on a stool at the counter. Your relief melted away as you took in his appearance. He was hunched over the counter, arms crossed and hair dishevelled with what you recognised as a glass of scotch sitting idle in front of him. A weight set in your chest.

"Bucky," you said timidly and he jumped at your voice. He turned to you with a fearful expression, the metal of his arm whirling and clanking in defence as if he were ready for a fight. But when he realised it was you his tough, soldier facade fell away and he exhaled slowly. He didn't say anything, slumping further down in his chair as you joined him in the darkened room, not bothering to turn on the light.

You gingerly placed your hand against his shoulder and he almost unnoticeably flinched away. Your heart sank.

"Nightmare?" You asked and he nodded silently, hardened glare boring into the marble of the counter. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Didn't want to scare you," he grumbled.

He didn't say anything else as you took a seat next to him, your hand slipping from his shoulder and resting against his bicep.

"You think when I wake up in the middle of the night and you're not there it's any less scary?"

Bucky sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. He glanced at you with tired eyes.

"I'm sorry."

He hadn't meant to worry you. When he'd woken up in a cold sweat with a scream dying in his throat and turned to find you sleeping peacefully beside him he felt panic swell in his chest. The nightmare wasn't any different than the rest of them. It felt just as real as the others. But it's what had happened in the dream, what he'd done, that filled him with the overwhelming urge to get away from you. His subconscious couldn't help but torture him further by replacing the image of his victim with you. And replacing their screams with your voice, begging him to stop.

"It's okay, baby." Your voice pulled him back and grounded him. "Why don't you tell me what happened," you coaxed gently and he immediately shook his head.

"Don't want to."

"Bucky-"

"I can't," he said quickly, his voice sharp. He swallowed and shook his head and you noticed the tears building in his eyes. Gently, you slowly ran your hand up his arm and brushed it through his hair. He exhaled frailly.

"Why not?"

It was quiet for a moment as Bucky wrung his hands. His gaze lingered on the intricate workings of the vibranuim for a few seconds more before he closed the prosthetic hand into a loose fist.

"I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly. His voice was barely above a whisper and he refused to look at you as you listened attentively, comfortingly rubbing his back. He felt his chest grow tighter as everything else fell past his parted lips all at once. "You're all I have. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time and I can't risk losing you. I can't."

Your expression saddened as Bucky hid his face in his hands. You carefully wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into your side and he went willingly, flesh arm wrapping around your neck. You shushed him gently and his aching muscles relaxed against you. Horrifying images from his nightmare flashed to the forefront of his mind but he did his best to dismiss them as he clutched onto you tighter.

"You won't lose me, Bucky. I'm not going anywhere." You pulled back slightly and cupped his face with your free hand, your thumb tracing his cheek. "Your past doesn't scare me. I promised you that I'd stick by you no matter what happens and I meant it. You don't have to hide from me, Buck."

Your hand fell from his cheek and gently rested against his forearm and he did his best to focus on your touch. He took a deep breath as he sat up and cleared his throat.

"When I have them they feel so real it's like I'm reliving it. They're not just nightmares, they're memories. And I remember all of it." He said quietly, eyes not leaving the counter. He felt his stomach tie itself in a knot and an uncomfortable weight setting in on his chest. Yet he willed himself to keep going.

"Tonight it was a mission in Germany, sometime during the eighties. A hydra intel agent had gone rough and they sent me to take care of him. Hydra couldn't afford to have any loose ends so it was my job to tie them all up. I eliminated the target like I was supposed to but-"

He hesitated and inhaled sharply. He was fidgeting anxiously, his fingers tapping relentlessly against the counter. His hand was itching to reach out and take the glass of liquor still sat in front of him. If anything just to feel something other than the pain in his chest. But he with-held the urge. He knew it wouldn't help, but telling you would.

"A young couple saw. Jesus, they were just kids." His voice broke. "But I had my orders. No witnesses. So, I killed them."

Tears pricked his eyes and he found it difficult to hold them at bay. A lump was forming in his throat and he felt moments away from breaking.

"I killed them."

He gritted his teeth as he grappled with himself and the tears began to fall. The nightmare had been among the worst he'd had in months. He'd learned to find a certain peace in some, knowing those he killed were bad, corrupt people who had hurt others. But this time that wasn't the case. They were innocent and young and had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. They could have had a life together. Bucky couldn't help but think how if it had not been for him then they could have been married with children, grandchildren by now. But they weren't. Their lives had been cut short by him.

You stood and pulled him into a gentle embrace as a quiet sob left his lips. Your hand ran through his hair as he rested his head against your stomach. Still seated, his arms encircled your waist.

You let him cry as he held onto you like a lifeline. Only when the tears had stopped and his voice had been reduced to a hoarse whimper did his grip ease ever so slightly. You pulled away and sat back down facing him. His expression was blank as he glanced at his hands, pale cheeks still stained by tears and his eyes red and puffy.

You reached up and gingerly brushed away the tears still clung to his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

"Bucky," you tried timidly but he didn't look at you. "Baby, listen to me."

He sighed and brokenly lifted his head. The vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. You kept your tone soft and reassuring.

"What happened wasn't your fault. You didn't have a choice. You're just as much of a victim as they were. Hydra killed those people. Hydra created him, the winter soldier. And he's not you, Bucky. He never was."

With a tired shake of his head, Bucky huffed.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you." You answered simply and Bucky's expression softened. "I know the real you. I know you don't like it when people call you James because it makes you feel old. I know that you love reading books and drinking green tea. And I know that even though you say you're not a people person you're really good with kids."

Bucky's brows creased and his lip trembled slightly as he looked to you and hung on to each and every one of your words. You smiled, tenderly tracing his jaw with your hand and he sighed, leaning into your touch.

"You're not a killer, Bucky. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over. And don't compare yourself to the people who forced you to do it."

Your words hit home and Bucky found himself standing from his seat and pulling you to his chest before his mind could completely catch up with him. He held you tightly, composure threatening to slip away again but this time for a completely different reason. You softly uttered words of comfort as he pressed you to his chest.

"I love you," you said quietly after a moment and you heard, or rather you felt, Bucky chuckle quietly.

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder why."

His hands didn't leave the small of your back as you pulled away just enough to look up at him. Your reassuring smile sent a wave of warmth through him.

"Because you're a better man than you give yourself credit for. And because you're kind-hearted, strong, sweet, brave. I could go on forever. You're a hero, Bucky, and a good man. Whether your mind lets you believe it yet or not."

Sighing with a teary smile, Bucky pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your temple. You felt the tension slowly melt from his shoulders and tensed muscles. As if a weight had been lifted from his burdened mind.

I love you too." He mumbled against your forehead and you hummed quietly, nuzzling into him. You stood together in shared silence for a few minutes, or maybe more, neither of you were counting. The chill gradually making its way up your spine and nipping at your exposed skin, along with the growing urge to yawn was the only thing that caused you to pull away and break the serenity of the moment. It was still pretty early and a few more hour in bed sounded ideal. You both needed it.

As you pulled away from the warmth of Bucky's embrace your eyes landed on the counter and you heard Bucky quietly sigh beside you.

"I didn't drink any," he explained, motioning to the untouched glass of scotch sitting on the counter top.

You smiled sadly and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He was always so hard on himself. Sometimes he seemed to forget he was only human.

"Don't worry about it, it's okay." You said comfortingly and he let his head fall gently against your shoulder. "Let's get back to bed, hm? We don't have to sleep if you don't want to. You can just rest and we can talk a little more?"

Bucky smiled against you. "I'd like that." A gentle kiss was placed to your shoulder. "Sounds perfect."

You gently caught Bucky's hand as you both left the kitchen and trudged back towards your shared room. The covers and sheets had grown cold as you crawled back into bed but Bucky didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. Certainly not as you lay beside him, his head coming to rest against your shoulder as your hand worked its way through his dishevelled hair. The nightmares were nothing but a thing of the past as he closed his eyes and sighed. He was home, safe and not alone.

tag list: @miraclesoflove​ @bakerstreethound​ @nahthanks​ @doozywoozy​ @the-queer-dungeoneer​ @kealohilani-tepsie

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #tfatws x reader #bucky fanfic #I was supposed to post this last weekend but decided to wait until after the content freeze

[strawberry-nugget]

𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝘼𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚

𝘼/𝙉: This is my piece for my very own collab 'Ice Cold Heart' and also my excuse to delve into some more canon rather than fanon Hawks, because canon Hawks has been clouding my mind lately and I needed to get this out

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Hawks/fem!Reader

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Angst, mentions of sexual themes

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

"I'm in love with you"

The precious meaning of a phrase is only defined by the weight you decide to put on it. And today you have decided that with your words you'd give birth to what's only going to give you and him pure, undefined pain. An elephant in the room if you may, an ogre of emotions that otherwise would be unwanted to stand between the two of you.

You think 'otherwise' as if it's not unwanted already. The unrequited nature of your sentence will linger in your heart more than you'd like to admit, but you're ready to lift your eyes and meet his golden ones, ready to be judged with the coldness of his gaze, ready to be treated like you've expected you will when coming into his office.

You still have that hidden truth to spill to him, and it surpasses the one you spilt already, but you hold your dry tongue in your mouth for now.

What could possibly only hurt like a kitten's scratch -his mute, his echoing silence- is rather twisting numerous sharp daggers in your chest, twirling over the wound of your feelings, ravaging any hope for salvation you had been left with. You wonder how your friends ever managed to convince you that the hardest thing about confessing was the part where you had to build up your courage.

Your courage never suffered from a hit as you walked to his office, despite being terrified for what you had to say to him. Paperwork in your hands and none of a nervous trembling in your lips, iron clad feet clashing with the tiles of the building. You've made your decision to get rid of all those feelings, not wanting to spend another night bent on his desk or sprawled under him, only for him to act like he barely knows you in the office and then to be all greedy and sweet in public events.

His games, that god awful behavior of his, the way he chooses to use you -even if you feel like you use him to, to turn him into something that he's not with your imagination- you're tired of everything. And then there's also the fact that he's a traito-

"Aha"

The answer to your confession wasn't supposed to affect you either for better or for worse, rather this confession was an egotistical act, Mirko, or any of your friends previously said, that one had to endure in order to take the next big step. Whether that was a step accompanied by your desired person, or a step to redeeming the anathema a rejection could have caused.

Frankly it wasn't that the golden orbs staring back at you were rejecting. If anything, they didn't bore into yours in a way that left you hollow, but they didn't fill your heart with dreams either. And what your original intentions begged to stand up for was that you didn't care of any significant reciprocation.

You wish you didn't care where those words you had uttered had left Hawks, or in what inner conflict they had found him in. But you know, he won't be in any conflict about what you have to say, what you've kept inside for too long, what has bled onto your morals like a run over animal on the street, left to rot and seep into the road as it disintegrates under the sun or the cold.

Unbeknownst to you, deep down in his head, Hawks doesn't know how to feel, or how to react; its all too sudden for him to process. The way you spoke of it so casually yet, so lightheartedly, your tone suggesting that you let your most vulnerable object of thought slip through your fingertips, like you let it fall out of your head and shutter on the ground.

"I-"

It isn't much, just the start of a sentence that he hopes he could compose, but the way your brows furrow at the sound of his voice does nothing other than startle him.

You should have known, he's not going to give in to such demands. Love, relationships, he doesn't have time, space, a mindset, doesn't need you to be that one for him, he wants all the stability he can get when he wants it, however he wants it and he's gone when he gets it, swift as a bird, cold as stone. That doesn't necessarily tickle a nerve inside of him, you know the rules, even if he feels bad about you suffering like this there's nothing he can do -he doesn't even know how- and he chooses to let you speak, get it out, before he has to go and be a hero for the day.

"No, no save it," You wave him off "here's my resignation"

The authority in your voice isn't the one he was used to. As his eyes blink, honey colored orbs taking in the un-glory of your posture, he's met with the sight of your hands hugging around your own form; the ultimate sign of vulnerability, uncertainty.

"You don't have to quit because you fell in love with me"

'You fell in love with me' he speaks of the words so little, as if they're dirty, as if you're in this with yourself and they're so suffocating that he can't stand them, only to softly graze your ear with vore intentions, to tell you that you don't have to quit, to urge you to not take this too serious.

Your feelings aren't serious.

"I do" You speak, trying to jab him back with some crafted poison in your tone. But you know what you're going to say next will definitely do it for him, it'll poison him we'll, whether it makes you endangered or not. "I was on patrol when I saw you doing business with Dabi, so save it."

The weight of those words is what finally serves as a huge hit to your courage. You've outed yourself greatly and now the chewing on your bottom lip is profound and painful to a great amount. Hawks' face is contorted in a terrifying darkness, thick brows clenched above his eyes and lips pushed into a thin line, nose scrunched.

"Listen-"

"I just don't want to be a part of this"

That's when he knows he has to be forgiving.

Hawks isn't used to you, a fierce warrior of a hero, clenching your jaw tensely or furrowing your brows in sorrows. He isn't used to you being so upfront with your emotions either; whatever the two of you have shared in the past has been in words of reluctance and mind states of regret, each one desperate to prevent your hearts from getting hurt.

He knows his heart won't get hurt though, it's shielded way too well inside his chest, in such way he feels hollow, driven by anything other than the stupid organ. You should have known, he tells himself, before you got involved so deeply, but he left you with no time for thoughts like these, wiggling you under his wing while biting your skin instead of pecking it.

Just as Hawks has always known that he's going to hurt you no matter you rejecting labels or bottling feelings up and absolutely forbidding the mention of them, it's obvious that things can't go his way. He isn't used to you eyeing him with pain gathering in the corners of your eyes, but he's willing to play the part you're setting up for him right on the spot. Even if he has to admit, the thought of being painted in this color jabs him just like knowing things won't go back to the way they were between the two of you.

He doesn't mind. He had to let it go because by the time you know about the truth you won't even remember his face, or the way his voice sounds, and he shouldn't think about this but he does, in a way, in the very back of his head.

His mission, he thinks, is far more important than his personal life -it's a top priority for greater good.

Once greater good is achieved he's going to be able to invest in a personal life that involves feelings and excitement and even the noble pleasure of being able to choose between priorities. Right?

So, whatever he's feeling now -the tight knot in his throat, the painful lack of oxygen in his throat, his gut twisting and churning and his limbs alternating from spasming to going numb- he has to ignore.

But for the worse part he doesn't really know how to act. The confession that has startled him is still lingering on repeat in the back of his head, fueling the small ignition of a flame that begs to put you on a pedestal, or rather, it began to make his mouth move on it own, to tell how that he too wishes he could be with you as more than this secretly exclusive arrangement you've set.

Maybe, his heart pleads, maybe he can tell you about his mission and clear up the confusion.

He wonders if that would be a part you'd want him to play for you.

"I won't give you away. So long as you don't involve me in this, I don't have ulterior motives for protecting civilians."

"I-" He starts, darkness bottling up in his gut, stomach falling after going utterly numb. Somehow he knows he's not going to utter a word if he keeps acting like that.

"Hawks-"

"You'll get over it."

It's sharp and it's short and it sends heavy, lethal daggers to your chest, so much that you can feel your heart beginning to slip from in between your ribs, out of chest and onto the floor of his office. It'd be a mess to clean, the blood if your agony and your heartache rightfully on his floor. For him to look down on, this time, physically.

"I will"

He knows his words hurt, just by the mere look your face contorts and he won't utter a word about what you just said, he'll link you to Endeavor and when the time comes you'll know. His cause is greater than your heart breaking, greater than chasing after that small arrangement he's made so he can get physical release from time to time.

It's better not to react. Not to terrorize you into anything for if you're afraid you might out the wrong truth to the heroes in your circle and his plan -the commission's plan- will fail and the heroes will lose this war. And he can't lose.

You want to look at him with menace and disgrace, not to atone him for the way he's making you feel; crashing your dreams, poisoning your morals and your thoughts, living down to your expectations so much that you don't know what to think of him.

Like he did when you saw him after closed doors, cold and unapproachable, to the point he's scary. Manipulative so much that you found your way under him without even realizing how fast it happened, what impact it had to you to get involved with him. You just want to be out, unwielded from his spider's web and latch yourself into something real and kind, to serve your purpose as a hero. As a human.

When he opens his mouth again you're not scared anymore, of what he may do to you, of what will happen next.

"Hand me your papers so I can sign them"

Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

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[cannibal-witchh]

Reader(Fem) x Alcina Dimitrescu

(PART 2)

Written by cannibal_witchh

Part 1

:https://cannibal-witchh.tumblr.com/post/641589115086929920/readerfem-x-alcina-dimitrescu-part-1-written

⛓Trigger Warnings⛓

Story contains: Gore, sexual elements, vulgar language, violence, elements of sub/dom behavior, and captivity.

Notes: This is the 2nd part of the story and it will progressively get more sexual, and the elements between the reader and Alcina will become more dom/sub. It is a little bit of a slow burner so bare with me. It will get juicy soon! I want to add, I do not support in any fashion abuse, and or non consensual actions. ⚠️ I have clearly placed trigger warnings to indicate there may be elements that are not for every reader. I heavily gravitate with dominance and submission/gore so thats where the relationship in the story will go ⚠️ Again, limited information so nothing in the story really is canon.

The reader is referred to as:

Y/N- your name

Y/L/N- your last name

She/her- in italics and bold

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Her blood boiled as she felt the weight of humiliation and rage filter through her. She was in poor shape, bloodied up, bruised, and very little hope could be found within her. She stared at Alcina with a hateful expression, but the vampress had full awareness beneath that thin surface of loathing was absolute fear. "Don't be foolish. I will not say it again.", she continued a smirk as she rested her elbows up on the edge of the bath. Even in absolute indecency she was wicked and intense. Her body at full exposure, water glistening off her porcelain skin, and gentle beads of water trailing down her breasts. The moon was illuminating off her soft tall figure, as she tipped her head back and relaxed it on the edge. "I think I've been more than patient with you."

Y/N, had so many emotions cycling through her, there was disgust, hatred, and anxiety. But she had concluded that there was no point in stalling. Alcina would grow tired and eventually kill her if she wasted anymore time. She began to strip, peeling an article of clothing at a time, trying desperately to cling on to every second. Her hands trembling as she slid her panties down her ankles before the wicked vampire.

She submerged her body in the warm water, blood began to scatter out from her knee, and she watched fragments of the water become crimson. Fuck. "Relax, I'm not a shark. I can smell your wonderful nectar but I have no need to feed at this exact instance just because you're coloring my bath water red.", she teased pulling her head up. Loose black waves stuck to her wet skin, spreading out like a small web on her smooth pale skin. Her intense bright eyes focused on Y/N, her eyes looked so preditorial, and so hungry. Those eyes burned deep in Y/N's soul, it was haunting.

After about forty minutes of soaking and cleansing, Alcina decided to privilege Y/N by showing her the cellar room. She held a lit candlabrum guiding them deep inside. It smelled foul, there were variations of fresh corpses everywhere, limbs lost in other areas of the large hallway, and it was incredibly dark. The walls and floor were built with thick cobblestone, and there were numerous cellars with rusted bars. " Now, I believe I have treated you kindly with allowing you to stay in an actual guest room.", she said as she continued to lead Y/N deeper into the cellars. Abruptly, an incredibly dry groan echoed through the cellar, it sounded as if it was in absolute suffering and pain. Y/N darted her head in the direction she believed it came from but it was too difficult to really distinguish actually where it sounded. " Relax, I won't allow them to touch you.", she assured as she stopped and turned to face her. "Those are family.", she stretched a pearly grin, her fangs teasing under her satin red lips. Alcina instructed with just her hands for Y/N to come closer to her, and she obeyed the demand. "You look much better being cleaned up, pet.", that name alone flooded a pool of humiliation in her, being stabbed, bitten, and beaten countless times to this nonsense- it just delivered a wave of embarassment to her. Alcina let out a soft giggle, and for moments there wasn't words being exchanged.

Thud! With swift impact, there was a heavy hit that landed to Y/N's head, and she flew several feet back away from Alcina. She tried to gather herself but her vision grew blurry, and her knee still in poor condition to make quick movements. Dwindling in and out of clear vision, the sounds of agonizing groaning reverberated through the corridor infront of her. She felt shivers, hair raise, and another dose of adrenaline greet her. What could this be? Within moments, a strong smell of decay flooded through the damp cobblestone hallways, and echos of pain continuing to sound. A group of corpse like creatures swayed in, their bodies detierating, bones exposed, long sharp aged nails, and hollow dark eyes. Her family. Absolute horror welcomed Y/N, Alcina had lied, she wasn't going to protect her. The creatures began to hobble towards her, surrounding her, their stench choking her, and their groans ringing in her ear. She was fucked, no available escape was present for her to attempt. She closed her eyes and she felt the stroke of long thin nails brush against her face and arms. Felt the cold breath of their hissing near her ears, as she tried to control her panic. This was it. "Enough!", Alcina screeched, and immediately the creatures shrieked and fled away in the tunnels. She relaxed her hands on her hips and walked over to Y/N with a pleased expression. " This is what will become of you but worse if you do not submit to me. Do we have ourselves clear?", Alcina watched as Y/N nodded trying to control her panicked breaths, and maintain her shivering. "Good."

Without effort, Alcina had carried Y/N in her arms all the day back to her captive room. When they arrived, she locked the door, and rested Y/N on the sheets. Y/N felt some release of tension the moment she establish this was her room. She spread her arms out, tracing the creases of silk that collected under her. The presence of the fabric brought her slight comfort. "Honestly, you truely are pathetic.", she sighed as she sat the candlabrum on the wooden nightstand beside the bed. Y/N felt beside her sink, Alcina had sat beside her and began to run her fingers through her hair. Despite the cruel treatment, this minor kindness felt relieving to Y/N. She let out a small sound of relief as Alcina continued to lace her fingers through her hair. "I feel despite some tension, you have gathered an understanding of your place as my feeding pet. I appreciate that submission. I have mutually contributed. I awaited feeding until you were cleansed and in the comforts of your room.", a sharp spike danced in Y/N's stomach, she felt acidity well up, and her knee twitch with discomfort. It was time.

This time, Y/N did have opposition towards the situation this time. She fully gave in to the unfortunate circumstances. Her pants were removed, revealing a blackened knee with blood stains feathering out from the site. "I'm quite surprised how quickly you've adapted to your position to me. I have to admit, I am pleased with you.", Alcina leaned to her side, hovering over Y/N's wounded knee, her large breasts nearly spilling out from her nightgown. The closer she leaned towards her knee, the more her alluring breasts pressed gently against Y/N. "Despite my daughters, I have control over my hunger. I will treat you well, and I will know how to savor you slowly.", she looked down at her knee and let out a sound of disappointment. "So much for being patient. Its scabbed. I suppose I will make a new feeding site."

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"My f-femoral atery?", Y/N muttered as she felt her cheeks grow hot. A major artery, not even her daughters had fed on. The violent feeding they did more than likely would've killed her if they attempted to. " Yes, now please relax. I have fed in this location before and no one has ever died. I have lived a long life and acquired quite the knowledge on self control.", she began to move close to her upper thigh, her nose brushing lightly against her skin, and her mouth leaving light streaks stained from her rouge. The sound of skin break was heard through the cold air, Y/N let out a pained moan and held her breath. The pain was unpleasant, it was like having a canine bite but with small thin teeth. She tried focusing on the candle wicks, watching them sway and dance softly in the distance. The warm occasional crackle it did from time to time. It was the closest thing to resemble peacefulness during this taxing time. Alcina began to feed, siphoning Y/N's blood, she made sounds of utter bliss as the sweet flavor danced along her desperate tongue. Her body stiffening in surprise as pure satisfaction greeted her mouth. Her nipples growing erect through her night gown, brushing against Y/N's leg. Y/N felt light headed, feeling blood leaving her as she grew quickly cold. Strangely, she had no presence of panic, perhaps, the loss of blood delivered her brief emotional insensitivity. Alcina stayed down there for quite sometime, muttering muffled sounds of bliss, occasionally latching off revealing a bloodied chin, teeth, and lips. She met Y/N's eyes and immediately flashed a wide smile, it was almost sickening but in a way bewitching. Maybe the lack of blood was making Y/N confused. " W-why am I so relaxed?", she muttered feeling a heavy weight of tranquility possess her. " Shh...its the lack of blood. Soon I will stop.", Alcina whispered as Y/N felt her tongue lick her inner thigh. Her long tongue tracing and prodding the bite marks. Desperstely trying to drain whatever was left of the site.

" I believe, I am full. Thank you for the meal.", she wiped her crimson stained lips and chin with the back of her hands ,now tarnishing it with red. " I believe, I owe you a thank you, pet. You have been surprisingly obedient the whole time, and quiet too.", Alcina slowly adjusted herself until she was on all fours above Y/N. Her large smooth breasts draping down reaveling down her well tailored gown. She began to crawl slowly towards Y/N's face, her chest lighting brushing against Y/N's body. It was incredibly soft yet cold. " I am going to need you to open your mouth, won't you, pet?", without hesitation, Y/N dropped her mouth open for her. Alcina licked her lips and pressed her right fang into her plump bottom lip. Blood began to trickle out and run down her chin and onto her chest. Her hand traveled slowly up to Y/N's neck, gentle gripping it, and holding it against the mattress. Her opposite hand, explored under her shirt, and rested on her heart. Y/N, felt the a wave of heat flush away the cold that was residing in her. What was she about to do? "Can't let my obedient food die on me, yet.", Alcina leaned herself forward, pressing her lips against Y/N's. Her tongue inviting itself into her mouth, brushing metallic crimson inside. The flavor was terrible but Y/N did not seem to object. Alcina continued to kiss her, muffled sounds escaping between their lips as a warm blanketed feeling continued to lay over Y/N. Blood had managed to escape their lips, trickling down Y/N's chin, it was incredibly cold as it traveled down. Alcina ceased the kissing, her face revealed itself to be flush and pink. Strange for a creature of the undead. She moved her long delicate fingers along Y/N's blood covered lips and chin. Collecting whatever escaped under her finger tips. "Don't waste it.", she whispered softly nudging her fingers against Y/N's lips, as they slipped their way inside her mouth. More of that bitter flavor met Y/N's tongue, and she felt her body grow warmer and warmer. Alcina took her fingers out after a few moments, examining there was no trace of remaining blood present. She made a sound of approval that trailed with a small smile. An overwhelming amount of insatiable hunger found Y/N, she felt her body perk with energy, her senses incredibly alert, and her heart accelerate as if it was injected with caffeine. She brought a hand to Alcina's cheek and drew her to her own. Lips reuniting again, her tongue pressing its way into Alcina's mouth, and Y/N biting her lower plump lip. She was hungry, the introduction to Alcina's blood was intoxicating, addictive, and restoring. It brought her energy and she needed more. A small line of red flowed from Alcina's lower lip, and Y/N quickly licked it from her face. Her tongue returning back to Alcina's mouth the moment she collected all of her crimson. Alcina muffled a small moan, as her hand tightened around Y/N's neck, the opposite hand no long resting on her Y/N's heart but traveling down her stomach. Her incredibly sharp nails dragging into her sternum down to above her navel. She felt blood seep from those insicions, and she let out a pained moan. She buried her lips against Alcina's for a few more passionate moments until she broke it. Her lips pressing against Y/N's neck and her tongue dragging down her neck to the freshly bloodied cuts on her sternum and navel. She kissed and licked the bloodied wounds hungrily. Little delicate moans left her mouth as she glanced up at Y/N with her appreciative smile. Still continuing to clean the newly made cuts with her tongue. "Dont act as if this is an invitation of making love, foolish one. Vampires have restorative blood that gives humans the ability to briefly recover, replenish energy, alertness, and on some occasions enhance their libidio.", she rolled her eyes, " In this case, you acquired all of it. What a headache. I just wanted to make sure you didn't die of blood loss.", She sighed. " I suppose I will find more uses for you, pet. But don't think it will entirely feel good."

To be continued...

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