#AM signal without radio

[infoanalysishub]

How to Catch Radio Signals Without a Radio | SDR, Apps, DIY

Discover how to catch and listen to radio signals without a traditional radio. Learn about SDR dongles, mobile apps, online SDRs, and DIY radio receivers for AM/FM and shortwave. How to Catch Radio Signals Without a Radio | SDR, Apps, DIY & More Catching and listening to radio signals without a traditional radio is absolutely possible using alternative technologies. Here’s a detailed breakdown…

[nihilisticlinguistics]

would love it if modern technology would work 2 days in a row

[chaoticwriting]

GOTHAM'S NEW ROGUE 4

Part 3

Danny looks at the guy skeptically. Last time someone approached him, they were Red Robin, Spoiler and Signal. This time, a dude that looks like an average office worker approaches him.

Trickster: Sure, why not?

???: Thank you.

Trickster: So, what do you want with me?

???: Let me introduce myself first. I am Clark Kent. A journalist from the Daily Planet. I would like to ask, is it true that you know Batman's secret identity?

Trickster: You mean those pictures I stole from his wallet? Yeah sure. Why do you wanna know?

Clark: As you know, I am a journalist. And it is our job to find out about news and share it with the general public. I am just thinking, what would you like to exchange for the real identity of Batman.

Trickster: Hmmm..... What price huh? Let me think for a moment.

Danny then continues to eat his food as he pretends to think about Clark's offer. Honestly, he doesn't give a damn about this Clark guy. He is also a vigilante once, so he knows the importance of their secret identities. While slurping away his last coke, Danny gains a very good idea (He thinks it is a good idea).

Trickster: Well, I don't think I would sell the pictures just yet since the card is still useful and I don't need money. However, I have a very interesting topic you can investigate.

Clark: Oh? What is it?

Trickster: Try searching for something called GIW. It is a government branch and I'm sure it will be a hit piece.

Clark: GIW? What is that?

Trickster: Well that's for you to figure out. Oh well. I'm pretty full now. Gotta go now. See you never.

Danny then disappears right in front of Clark before he can do anything. Clark can't even hear or see the kid anymore with his enhanced sense and x-ray vision further cementing that the kid probably has teleportation power.

Danny meanwhile is laying on his makeshift bed while watching the stars after he uses his power to clear the sky thinking what he just did is very smart. Unfortunately, he doesn't know this decision is as good as the previous time he thinks his idea is good.

-1 month later-

Danny is picking up scraps from the junkyard for his next prank. Collecting some toasters, some blenders and even some radios. Danny has spent a lot of time these past few months, tinkering with machines that he practically knows what component is in which appliances.

Suddenly, he sees a very familiar device among the junk. A sleek silver gun with a few green buttons on it. It doesn't have the usual designs that Danny used to see but Danny knows without a doubt in his mind that it is an ecto gun.

The problem is that, the gun is new. Very new. Like it is just created. And that means one thing. A GIW agent is here. Shit! Danny needs to run. But where? He has checked before this but the only place with enough ectoplasm to hide him is either Gotham or Amity Park. No where else in the world has as much ambience ectoplasm to hide him from the ecto detector.

But now that they are in Gotham, he might as well not hide since at such close proximity, the ambient ectoplasm can only hide him if they are not close. Danny is thinking very hard when his ears pick up something. A group of people is coming his way, and from the way they are all carrying heavy devices, they are probably GIW agents.

Danny against his better judgement turns invisible and flies high enough so that if the agents decide to shoot him, he will have time to dodge them. Danny watches quietly as the ecto detector bips faster and faster the more they go to where he is previously.

???: Damn it. I thought this is where Trickster is. But it's just the gun that you lost.

???: Hey, at least we don't need to file reports of missing weapons right? Also, didn't that thing already get set up by the Fentons to find Trickster?

???: It's probably them messing it up. It's not like them messing shit up is something new anyway.

???: Yeah. Let's just say it is a false alarm. I hear the higher ups are thinking of lowering our budgets next year if we don't produce any results soon.

???: Ugghh, don't remind me of that. Not only do they pressure us like that. I even heard that there is some guy that has been snooping around our base, taking pictures and stuff.

???: I hate those reporters. We are trying to do our job and save them from those savages, and yet here they are messing with us. Calling us genocidal maniacs and the second coming of Nazis.

???: If that is not bad enough, they even say that they feel like we should treat the ghost as if they are people. Ghosts are not people! They are merely beast pretending to be someone we used to know and love.

???: I would love to just punch those reporters to the face if not for the fact that Boss ordered us to stay put.

Suddenly their walky talky start to beep.

Walkie-talkie: Agent P, Agent Q. Return to the base of operation immediately. We are receiving visits from the higher ups.

Both of the agents reply with Roger and hurriedly run towards their van and drive off somewhere. Danny looks at them and decides, he has found what his next prank is going to be.

Part 5

[jyoongim]

So I tried to mush all three of these request into ONE since i felt they all had a similar theme. Umm I might have missed a few points but I hope you like it regardless <3

Themes: 18+, nsfw,fem!reader, bratty!reader, soft!dom!Alastor, established relationship,  brat-taming, pet play, orgasm denial, masturbation, rough sex/passionate sex, breeding kink, possession, degradation kink, slight bondage, humiliation, alastor uses microphone, creampie, multiple orgasms, punishment, slight choking, praise kink, overstimulation, much needed aftercare

You were usually so well behaved.

Radiating confidence and elegance through your quiet demeanor.

A pretty doe who followed her master’s orders without question.

That’s why Alastor liked you so much.

But every so often, you needed to be reminded that his adornment for you shouldn’t be taken for granted.

You were out doing you own thing away from the hotel.

You had found a cute cafe with a library and was enjoying a few books. It felt so nice to have some time to yourself. You enjoyed the company of those who occupied the hotel, but sometimes it felt a little stuffy. You had already did everything Alastor wanted you to do so why not relax a bit before being summoned back to his side?

Alastor. 

He brought a smile to your face. It wasn’t everyday you met another deer demon and the two of you hit it off real nice.

You were a pretty soul in his collection and truth be told, you didn’t know why he needed you around. But you didn’t mind doing small things for the demon.

You were his ever faithful assistant, but there was so much more to your relationship with the Radio Demon than any knew.

You felt your necklace vibrate and pouted summoning. You ignored it, resuming with your reading. You’ll just leave when you were finished….

Alastor cocked his head, his smile tense did you just ignore him? Alastor gave you a lot of leeway. But now was not the time to ignore him. He could feel the telltale signs of his rut coming and merely just wanted you in his presence. You had a soothing effect on the red demon and he wanted to bask in your scent.

He tried again, sending out a signal along with it Darling, be a dear and come home. Nothing. he knew you had left the hotel but you usually came running when he summoned you.

His ear twitched in annoyance. Seemed his little Doe needed to be taught a lesson in obedience.

You hummed a little tune as you entered the hotel. You were gone a bit longer than you thought, having indulged yourself in several books, you even picked up his favorite meat as an apology.

Your nose wrinkled as pheromones hit your nose. Your ears picked up on a low humming, like white noise. You felt your necklace give a tug.

come to me

You made your way to Alastor’s radio tower.

You knocked softly and peeked your head inside, entering with your ears pinned back.

”You know that I am my own person right?, I was coming back eventually” you said sarcastically with a smile on your face as you approached him at his radio station. You meant for the comment to be silly, thinking whatever he wanted could wait.

He did not find it funny.

He twirled around in his chair, his smile tight “I thought i told you to come home my dear”his tone was rough, head tilted.

You shrugged “I was out enjoying myself. I dont always have to answer to your every beck and call”

Green chains appeared around your neck, yanking you to the floor.

You blinked and mindlessly tugged at the chain, frowning.

You looked up to him, with a questioning expression on your face, which quickly dropped to one of anxiety when you saw his face.

Alastor was pissed.

With a yank, he tugged you towards you, slowly reeling you across the floor. Your skittish nature kicked in and you tried to fight against it “Al?”

His eyes were black, glowing red as he tugged your chain harder.

”A-Al s-stop it”

He cocked his head ”since when do you talk back to me pet?” He chuckled, he tugged the chain until you were between his legs.

He grabbed your chin “Did you forget who owns you? When i call for you , you come… that was our arrangement no?”

You nervously gulped, nodding. He ran a claw through your hair, almost lovingly, before yanking your face til your nose was buried in his crotch. 

“It seems I’ve been too soft with you,” You got a good whiff of his scent and nearly purred at the heavy pheromones.

Alastor relaxed in his chair as you ran your nose along his clothed cock. If it was one thing you always craved it was Alastor.

He watched as you tugged at his belt, adjusting his hips to let you tug at his pants until his semi-hard cock sprung free from into confines.

He let you have your fun.

Because he sure was going to have his and you weren’t going to like his version of fun.

You took hold of his cock and licked a long strip up on the underside of  his cock, suckling at his tip.

You sucked at his tip, tongue swirling at his slit before taking him into your mouth whole. You slowly inched him into your throat until your nose brushed the patch of red hair at his base.

Hands anchored on his thighs for leverage, you began to bob your head up and down, making sure to coat him in your saliva.

The sounds of you happily slurping away filled the room as you suckled his cock.

You relaxed your jaw and wrapped your tongue around his shaft, softly squeezing his cock like your hand would as you bobbed your head.

You gagged as he pressed your head down unexpectedly. Your eyes looked up at him, to find him lazily resting his head in his palm. He didn’t make a move as you moaned gurgling around him, the vibrations making him twitch in your mouth.

What a clever minx you were, thinking that if you sucked him off he would forgive you…silly girl.

Your tongue jerked him off slowly, urging him to spill his cum down your throat.

Alastor let out a soft grunt as you fondled his balls.  The sensation of your warm mouth and tongue squeezing him was so good.

”You want my cum dear?’ He petted your head, hand swiping your hair out of your face. You moaned, nodding as you picked up your pace.

”Then don’t waste a single drop” his cock twitched and with a hard tug of your tongue he coated your throat, spilling his cream down your throat.

You sighed as you tugged at his cock, welcoming every drop that shot down your throat. You pulled off him with a pop and showed him your full mouth, before swallowing.

You leaned back onto your knees, a knowing smile on your face, thinking that he had let you off the hook.

but oh how wrong you were…

”Oh don’t think you can suck my cock and ill just forgive you dear, you refused to obey a summoning so now you’re going to have be punished” he said as he tucked his cock away into his pants.

You blinked surprised. Punishment?

He patted his lap, his brow quirked at you.

You gulped as you slowly crawled into his lap. His hands ran along your spine before palming your ass. You nuzzled into his shoulder, a silent plea.

He pulled your tight skirt over your ass, toying with the lacy panties you wore.

”Let’s see how many lashes do you deserve? Hmmm you ignored my initial summoning, thats 10, then you had the nerve to talk back, being a little brat thats 10 more…” His hands were kneading your ass harshly. You whimpered. “Then you thought you could get out of punishment by voluntarily sucking my cock…that makes 30 darlin’ ” You tensed. He was gonna spank you 30 times?

”You’ll count and then you’ll take the rest of your punishment accordingly. Am I clear?” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

”Y-Yes Alastor” A hard smack sounded and your body seized.

He tsked at you,  smoothing the stinging cheek “I taught you better than that”

”Y-Yes sir” You whined, your hands digging into the chair cushion.

”Good girl now start”

He smacked your other asscheek.

”o-one”

five.

ten.

15.

20.

25.

You were a quivering mess, clenching your teeth as tears ran down your face. Each smack harder than the last.

Your ass was on fire. Your cunt was tingling. You were sure you had soaked your panties. You prayed he didn’t noticed. He smoothed the hot flesh, giving you a little comfort as you shook in his lap.

”You’re almost done c’mon”

SLAP SLAP SLAP!

”2-28”

SLAP SLAP!

”30! It hurts please” you all but sobbed in his shoulder. Alastor kneaded your ass softly, your skin was hot, probably red with his handprints.

”Ooh you did so well but…” his fingers dipped down the crack of your ass, feeling how wet you were through your panties

”You seemed to enjoy your punishment. What a naughty girl.”

He ripped your panties, throwing them somewhere, bringing his fingers back to your weeping cunt.

You let out a soft moan as he dipped his fingers inside you. pushing your hips down to feel him deep.

He scissored his fingers, stretching you, toying with your insides as you tried to ride his fingers.

He slipped his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and licking your slick off.

He leaned your body back, removing your face from his shoulder, taking in your flushed face and watery eyes.

”At my feet” he said.

You slide off him, legs shaking, taking your place at his feet. Your lip quivered as you sat there, ass stinging and cunt dripping.

He grabbed his microphone and tapped your thighs til you spreaded them. The cool head of his cane tapped your clit, making you jump.

”You want to cum, then you do it yourself pet.” His microphone head started to vibrate, you jerked away slightly. The sensation making you clench around nothing.

Alastor said nothing as he stared at you. A condescending smile on his face.

You slowly moved your hips along the head, biting your lips as  you maintained eye contact with him.

With how wet you were, you coated his microphone in your slick.

A low whine tore from your throat as your clit bumped against the vibrations just right.

”please” you moaned as your hips moved faster. Your orgasm approaching, you leaned back, hands on your ankles as you humped the cane like  a dog. Trying desperately to reach your orgasm. 

But you couldn’t.

It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t him. 

It wasn’t his cock making you cum.

”I-I can’t ah! Alastor p-please please ” you begged.

But Alastor wasn’t going to grant you your sweet wish. He grinned down at you, moving his mic to focus on the sensitive bud. You flinched “Ooooh what’s the matter my dear? Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

You clenched your eyes shut as you groaned in frustration. Alastor pulled the vibrating mic away from you, putting it aside as he stood. Your thighs clenched together as he pulled his leather gloves from his claws. You watched as he pulled his coat off, leaving him in the nicely pressed dress shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and tapered waist. 

You wanted your legs on those shoulders and waist.

The thought made a soft purr escape your throat, causing you to blush and look away from him.

Alastor smirked. How cute you were. Trying to hide your desire in fear of the consequences. 

“How about a switch in tactics dear? ”he said crouching down to your pitiful form. He hooked a finger under your chin for your eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m going to fuck you until I am satisfied. if you don’t cum Ill forgive you how does that sound?” He smiled.

You sucked on your bottom lip. This was a gamble. You were used to Alastor’s rut. He was rough, fucking until you didn’t have a single thought in your head.

But…if he was willing to forgive you, you’ll take anything.

Because one thing you couldn’t take was Alastor’s passive aggression he could easily dish out.

You nodded, sealing your fate.

”Lovely”

You were pushed onto your back, Alastor quickly settling between your thighs. You gasped feeling his cock slid against your slit, before he thrusted into you. He set a rough pace, growling as you arched up into him.

”Oh Fuck!” You moaned.

Alastor's hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing. He sneered “Look at you. Taking my cock like a good little whore. Nothing but a brat who needs to learn her place”

Your back ached at the force he was pounding into you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass was all you could focus on.

”When I call you, you come. There shouldn’t be any ifs or buts. You come! This pretty necklace is my leash and when I tug you answer.” He bunched your thighs to your chest, pressing them as you panted out. 

You slick was sticky, covering your ass and sticking to both of you. His hips plowed into yours, sinking his cock so deep to the hilt. He rocked his hips, enjoying the squelch your cunt made around him. You whimpered as his cock bumped against your g-spot.

“You never disobey me. You’re always my good girl. I’m always good to you aren’t I?” A harsh thrust pulled a strained gasp through your lips “Mine to do whatever I please with. I protect and provide and what do you give me in return?” Your claws dug into the floor, small dents appearing at the brutality  of his thrusts.

You felt your orgasm coming back, your cunt tightening around him. Alastor tilted his head at you “ah ah ah” he hissed as he  pulled his cock from you, creamy slick covering his cock.

Your cunt clenched around nothing and you cried as he nipped at your neck. He nosed your ear, cooing teasingly “No cumming remember?”

He fed your weeping cunt his cock, sinking til his balls rested snug against your ass. He stayed there as you wiggled around, hips shifting to try to get just a little bit of friction.

Alastor’s hips snapped into yours. High-pitched moans and soft gasps spilled from your lips as he basically plowed you into the floor. His breathe was hot as he growled in your ear “You better not cum” you whined.

easier said than done.

You could practically taste your orgasm. It was like a scale. Every rut of his hips had his cock hitting that soft sponge inside you pulled you closer and closer to knocking the scales over.

You were flipped onto your hands and knees and before you could stabilize yourself, Alastor had your cheek pressing against the cold floor and he thrusted back into you.

”Oooohh fuuucck!!” You screamed. 

“Take it Take it thats a good girl. Taking my cock so well” he groaned, hips pistoling into yours.

You felt his cock twitch and automatically sunk your hips to take his cum, he chuckled “So you haven’t lost all your manners I see”pushing your back into a low arc, hand trailing your spine to wrap your hair around his claws.

”You gonna take my cum baby? Hmmm? You gonna be a good girl and take my cum” You nodded, your cunt was fluttering.

You were gonna cum.

“dont” his cock twitched as his started to stutter, with a low growl he thrusted deep into you as he cummed inside you.

That was the tipping point.

You moaned softly as you cummed around his cock, pushing your hips back to ride it out.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as your body shook.

Sharp claws kneaded the fat of your hips as Alastor pulled out of you.

”and here i thought you would be good hmmm” he sucked his teeth in disappointment.

He gathered you into his arms, wiping at your tears

”Oh what to do with you my dear” One of his hands parted your thighs, thumb rolling your puffy clit. You whimpered closing your thighs around his hand, which made him pinch your clit in warning. Soft kisses laced your neck and shoulder as he rubbed att you over sensitive clit.

”since you disobeyed me darlin, you’re gonna cum. Over and over. You’ll cum so much you wont even be able to cum after I’m done with you” he darkly promised.

And cum you did.

over and over.

You cried as your hips jerked, trying to get his now wet fingers away from your poor clit. Your body went slack in his hold as you cummed again.

“P-please” 

Too sensitive

“Hmm darlin?” He patted your clit, grinning as you squirmed.

”no more please A-Alastor” you cried as he circled your clit again.

He kissed your quivering lip.

”hmmm since you beg so prettily” he worked your clit quickly and you winced as a quick orgasm shot through you, squealing as your hips quaked as a soft stream squirted out of you.

Alastor laughed as your body shook, head lolling against his shoulder as you panted.

”That’s a good slut”he whispered as your eyes closed.

@markster666 @okay-babe @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @thewinchestah @alastorsdear @strawberrypimp666 @polytheatrix @danveration @coleisyn @rradio-static @choaticallygoofy @yourworstgf @snowandnina @yoitsnetto @tpks @siiv3r @alastorss @pooplyface1423 @chewbrry @queenariesofnarnia @simphornies @v0xsw1fe @peachedtvs @wisteria-seal @altruisticalastor @stawberrypimpsimp @horrorartsworld @dennsfz @yunimimii @dievia3 @jellibean2018 @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @twismare @diamond-almond @lunaramune @scaramoochiie @kiralaufeyson84 @purplecatsandhearts @lbcreations-blog @alishii @yourdoorisunlocked @dasimp777 @bri22222 @fizzled-phoenix @fruityteacup @prosciuttosblog @alstorloml @ioniiaa

[mandoalorian]

Hi, I love the way you write Bucky. But it made me think if Bucky never fell. If Steve had sacrificed himself and Bucky had to come back to Brooklyn w/o Steve. How he would have fared. Maybe he has a girl, how about his family. How he would have kept Steve’s memory alive. Would they have met again when Steve was found.

Sorry, this is my first time requesting a fic so if something is wrong. I apologize. Thank you!!!

hi! thank you for trusting me with your first ever request! i’m sorry it took me a little time to get around to. i hope you enjoy the story. it was super interesting to explore, especially the reverse roles. i felt like i was writing an episode of 'what if...'❤️‍🔥

i am gonna grow wings [captain america!bucky barnes x reader]

synopsis: in an alternate reality where steve sacrifices himself, bucky returns to brooklyn a broken man, haunted by loss and memories. even with the love and strength of you waiting for him at home, he struggles to carry steve’s legacy and find his own path as the new captain america.

warnings: descriptions of depression, suicidal ideations, the different stages of grief/mourning, canon typical themes and violence. suitable for teens and above.

word count: 3200

masterlist

November, 1944 ༊*·˚

The snow whipped sideways through the broken hull of the Valkyrie as Bucky fought his way down the corridor, gun in hand, pulse in his throat. The sound of metal creaking under pressure was almost louder than the gunfire outside. He ducked behind a wall as a HYDRA agent crumpled at Steve’s feet ahead of him, shield returning to his hand like a promise kept.

“Buck, we’re running out of time!” Steve’s voice called back, hoarse but firm.

Bucky shoved past the last stretch of wreckage and reached his side. The control panel was blinking red erratically. The auto-navigation was set. The plane was headed straight for civilisation, loaded with enough bombs to turn the Eastern Seaboard into ash.

Bucky grabbed his arm. “We can land it. There’s gotta be another way.”

Steve looked at him — really looked. The way he always did when he was about to do something reckless and noble and stupid.

“There’s not.”

“No—no, don’t pull this crap, Steve. You don’t get to be the hero again. Not without me. We do this together. We win this fight, together.”

“This way Buck, we can both be heroes,” Steve said quietly. “And it means you get to go home.”

Bucky shook his head furiously, trying to keep the panic from cracking open his chest. “No, not without you! You jump, I jump. Remember?”

Steve gave a weak smile. “That was when we were kids.”

“You’re still that kid. You just got bigger and—dumber. Stevie, don’t do this.”

Steve stepped past him and placed the shield gently in Bucky’s arms. The weight of it was staggering. “Take this. Keep it safe. For me.”

Bucky looked down at it, then up at Steve like he’d just handed him his own heart.

“Don’t make me bury you,” Bucky said, voice catching.

But Steve was already stepping into the cockpit. Already turning the radio dial.

“Peggy…” he said. “I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

The signal cut.

“No—STEVE—” Bucky ran to the window, slamming his fist against the glass.

Below, the white expanse of the Arctic stretched endlessly. The plane veered slightly, then straightened.

Then silence.

Bucky stood there with the shield clutched to his chest and nothing but wind and grief in his lungs.

He didn’t even feel the snow melting in his hair as the rescue chopper came to pull him out.

— 𖤓 —

The Brooklyn streets felt smaller than you remembered, tighter and heavier like they were holding their breath. The autumn air smelled faintly of wood smoke and rain, but you barely noticed.

You waited by the window, heart pinned to the rhythm of every passing footstep and engine hum. When the old military jeep finally rattled down the block and stopped at the curb, you barely had time to steady yourself before the door swung open.

Bucky stepped out, taller, broader, but somehow smaller too. His face was hollowed, eyes like dark glass reflecting everything he wanted to forget. The weight of the war clung to him, dragging him down in slow motion.

He didn’t say a word. Just walked through the door and dropped his pack by the threshold.

You were there before he could shut it, arms wrapping around him, pulling him close like you could stop the world from spinning without Steve.

He sagged into you, forehead resting on your shoulder. The shield, still strapped to his back, felt impossibly heavy, like carrying the whole war on his shoulders.

“Steve...” His voice cracked, barely a whisper.

You squeezed him tighter. “I know, honey. I read about it in the paper. I know it hurts. But you’re here. You came home. And I am so glad to see you again.”

His breath hitched, a strangled sound. “It should have been me.”

“No,” you said softly, brushing damp strands of hair from his face. “You were supposed to come back. That’s why you’re here.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something solid. “But I feel so empty without him. It’s been months and, God, how do I live like this? How do I carry his memory without breaking?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You don’t have to carry it alone. Not anymore. You have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky’s gaze faltered, and he leaned into you again, resting his head on your chest this time. His hands clenched at your waist, trembling slightly.

“Can we just… go to bed?”

It was early noon, and the sun was still shining bright in the sky. The delicious scent of the roast dinner you had prepared for your boyfriend’s arrival filled the apartment, but Bucky didn’t have the appetite. He was so tired. In fact, this feeling was more than exhaustion. His whole body ached with mental torment.

You nodded, heart aching for the man that you loved so dearly. “Yes, let’s go to bed.”

Later, as the room grew quiet except for the rain tapping softly on the window, you held him close. His body was tense at first, like he was trying to hold himself together.

But eventually, he relaxed into you — breathing slowing, shoulders lowering.

You whispered against his hair, “You’re not alone, Buck. I’m right here.”

He didn’t answer, but you felt the tremble of his sigh against your skin.

And for the first time since the war, maybe since the plane crashed, Bucky let himself fall asleep — safe in your arms.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and tentative. You stirred first, still cradling Bucky’s worn frame against your side. His breath was slow, steady — but his eyes remained closed, heavy with exhaustion that no sleep could fully erase.

You brushed a gentle hand along his cheek. “Buck, it’s morning.”

He blinked slowly, disoriented, before focusing on you. A ghost of a smile flickered, but it vanished almost immediately. “Feels like I never left the war.”

You kissed his forehead. “You’re home now. And I’m here.”

He squeezed your hand, then reluctantly shifted to sit up. The weight of reality settled back onto his shoulders. “I need to see her. Agent Carter. I have to.”

You nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

The drive from Brooklyn to Peggy’s office was silent, the hum of the engine the only thing filling the space between you. You stole glances at Bucky, sitting rigid and distant beside you, his jaw clenched tight, eyes staring out the window like he was somewhere far away — maybe trapped inside memories that wouldn’t let him go.

When the car stopped, he didn’t speak. Just opened the door and stepped out, the weight of the shield slung awkwardly on his back.

You fell into step beside him as he approached the building, every footstep slow and deliberate.

Peggy was waiting by the door when you arrived. Her smile was warm but guarded, the kind that tried to hide the layers beneath.

“Bucky,” she said softly, stepping forward. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Bucky gave a stiff nod but didn’t smile back. Instead, his eyes darkened, searching hers like he was expecting something—an apology, an explanation, maybe a reason to hate her.

“I heard,” he said quietly, voice rough, “that you’re seeing someone.”

Peggy’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, then she nodded. “It’s been months. I had to move on.”

“Months.” The word hit the air like a slap. Bucky’s voice rose, sharp and bitter. “And here I am, stuck with the ghost of Steve every damn day. You just… moved on? Like it was easy? Like he was nothing but some chapter you closed?”

Peggy took a step closer, voice low but steady. “It’s not easy, Bucky. None of this is. But holding onto pain forever? That doesn’t bring him back.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with anger, pain bleeding through the fury. “I can’t do it, Peggy. I don’t want to live in a world without him. And you… you act like it’s nothing.”

“I’m not acting like anything,” Peggy said quietly. “I’m surviving. And you have to find a way to do that too.”

His hands balled into fists, knuckles white beneath the leather of his gloves. “Maybe I don’t want to survive.”

You stepped forward, placing your hand gently on his arm. “Bucky, please. This isn’t you.”

He jerked away, the distance between you suddenly palpable. His voice broke, raw and heavy with grief. “I’m lost. I’m empty. I’m just the one who came back.”

Peggy looked at you both, the weight of the moment sinking into her eyes. “He needs time.”

You nodded, swallowing the ache in your throat. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Outside the office, the cold air hit your faces. Bucky lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a shield. You didn’t say anything. Sometimes, words weren’t enough.

But you stayed.

And you would keep staying.

— 𖤓 —

The room was quiet except for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Bucky sat stiffly in the chair across from the council of SHIELD officials and military brass, the shield resting heavily on the floor beside him.

“Sergeant Barnes,” one of the officials began, voice measured but firm, “With Captain Rogers’ sacrifice, the mantle of Captain America is open. We believe you are the man to carry on his legacy.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. He swallowed hard, shaking his head before the words could even form.

“I can’t,” he said, voice low but steady. “Steve was... Steve. I’m not him. I’m not the man he was.”

“You don’t have to be him,” another officer said carefully. “But you have his courage. His heart. That’s why we’re asking you.”

Bucky looked down at the shield, fingers brushing the familiar curves as if seeking reassurance.

“It’s not about courage,” Bucky whispered. “It’s about what I’ve lost. What I carry. How I failed him.”

You stepped forward, heart pounding but voice clear. “Bucky, listen to me.”

All eyes turned to you.

“You don’t have to be Steve. Nobody expects that. But you have something Steve never had—a second chance to choose who you want to be.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing gently. “I see the man behind the shield. The one who survived hell and still wants to do right. That’s who you are. That’s who you’ve always been.”

He looked up, eyes glimmering with unshed tears and a flicker of hope.

“I’m not asking you to replace Steve. I’m asking you to be you. Bucky Barnes: Captain America.”

Bucky swallowed, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. The shield seemed lighter now—not a burden, but a promise. And with you by his side, maybe he could finally start to believe that.

The evening was quiet, the city lights glowing softly outside your apartment window. Bucky sat on the edge of the couch, the shield resting against the wall beside him. You sat close, fingers intertwined, the silence between you full of unspoken pain and hope.

He looked down at the shield, then back at you. “What if I fail? What if I’m not worthy?”

You cupped his face, thumb brushing the scars that mapped his past. “You’re not alone anymore. You have me. And every step you take, I’ll be right there with you.”

Bucky’s breath hitched, a tremor in his hands as he reached out and took the shield.

“This is your fight now,” you said softly. “Not Steve’s. Yours. And he believed you to be worthy. That has to count for something.”

He lifted it, the weight familiar but different — not a burden, but a promise.

“I’ll try,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “For Steve… and for us.”

You smiled through tears, pulling him into a tight embrace. “That’s all I need.”

— 𖤓 —

Months turned into seasons, and seasons into years. The shield, once a symbol of loss and burden, became a beacon of hope—not just for the world, but for Bucky himself.

Each morning began with gruelling training sessions. You watched from the sidelines sometimes, heart swelling and aching as he pushed himself harder, fighting against the ghosts of his past. The serum courses through his veins now, slowing time’s cruel march, halting the wear of years, but it couldn’t erase the memories.

When the missions came, you were there—patching bruises, cleaning wounds, and more importantly, listening. Your apartment became a sanctuary where he could lay down his armour and just be Bucky, the man who loved fiercely and fought for what was right.

One night, after a particularly brutal day, he collapsed into your arms, exhaustion and pain heavy in his body.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, voice raw. “Scared I’ll lose myself in this role. That the war will never leave me.”

You kissed his temple gently. “You won’t lose yourself. You’ll become stronger. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Together, you learned to navigate the balance—between duty and peace, past and future. And slowly, the cracks in his soul began to heal.

Years had softened the sharp edges of pain. The apartment in Brooklyn was filled with laughter, warmth, and the quiet chaos of everyday life — a far cry from the battles and ghosts that once ruled Bucky’s world.

You stood in the kitchen, watching him play with your children in the living room. His laughter was a sound you never thought you’d hear again — pure, unburdened, alive.

He caught your eye and smiled, that old familiar spark lighting up his eyes.

“Did you ever think we’d get here?” he asked, voice thick with emotion.

You crossed the room and took his hand. “I believed in us. Even when you didn’t.”

He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You saved me.”

“No,” you whispered, ��we saved each other.”

Though the past was never far, it no longer ruled him. The serum had slowed time, but it was your love, your home, your family that healed his heart.

Together, you built a life — one filled with hope, honour, and the quiet strength of two souls who chose each other every day.

March, 2014 ༊*·˚

The city was slick with rain, neon lights flickering off wet pavement. Bucky’s breath came steady, the chill biting through his coat, but his heart was anything but calm. Years had passed since you were gone — since he lost the person who anchored him, who taught him to believe in himself again. But time was a trickster, and now it had thrown him the cruelest of all cards.

Captain Hydra.

The name sent a shiver down his spine.

They didn’t just steal his body — they rewrote his soul.

After his sacrifice in 1944, Steve Rogers was presumed dead. But Hydra found him, broken and near death, entombed in Arctic ice. Where the world would have honoured him, Hydra saw something else: potential. A symbol of hope they could twist into a weapon of fear.

He was defrosted in a sterile underground bunker, strapped to a metal chair under buzzing lights. No familiar faces. No freedom. Only pain.

They tortured him physically at first — electric shocks, isolation, sleep deprivation. But Steve was strong. Too strong. So they shifted tactics.

They went after his mind.

They whispered lies until they sounded like truth. Played him recordings over and over again — false missions, fake betrayals, a rewritten history where Hydra saved the world. Where Bucky died by his hand. Where Peggy betrayed him. Where America never deserved Captain America in the first place.

Then came the chair — crude, cold, invasive. They carved into Steve’s memories, overwriting his morality with obedience. Replacing his ideals with loyalty to Hydra.

By the time they froze him again — their perfect soldier, preserved like a monster in ice — there was no Captain America left.

Only Captain Hydra.

Over the next seventy years, they thawed him out when they needed him. Silent. Deadly. Efficient. A myth of his own. The shield he once carried now bore Hydra’s crest — a mockery of what he once stood for.

Bucky’s hands clenched his shield at his side as he navigated the shadowed alley, the memory of your voice still whispering in his mind. I’m with you. Always.

He had to find Steve. Had to reach him before Hydra’s grip destroyed what was left.

And then, there he was.

Steve stood tall beneath the flickering streetlamp, his new Hydra insignia gleaming coldly on his chestplate. His shield—once a symbol of hope—was now twisted, bearing Hydra’s emblem.

Bucky stepped forward, voice low but urgent. “Steve.”

Steve’s eyes snapped to him, sharp and hostile. “You shouldn’t have come here, Bucky.”

The words stung, but Bucky forced himself to stay steady.

“I came because you’re not who they want you to be.”

Steve’s face twisted in anger. “I’m nothing like you anymore. I’m Hydra’s soldier.”

“No,” Bucky said, taking another step closer, “You’re Steve Rogers. The man who stood for something bigger than himself. You didn’t choose this.”

Steve raised his shield defensively, but Bucky didn’t flinch. Instead, he dropped his own shield to the ground, palms open in a gesture of peace.

“Remember the Brooklyn streets? The dreams we shared? You taught me what it meant to fight with honour—” Bucky’s voice cracked, the weight of decades pressing down. “You were my brother. My best friend. You saved me. And now, I’m here to save you.”

Steve’s eyes flickered—confusion, pain—before they hardened again. “I don’t know you.”

“You do,” Bucky said softly, stepping even closer. “I’m not going to fight you. You’re my friend.”

Steve grimaced before a wicked smile flashed across his lips, and he brought his fist to Bucky, slamming it into his ribs. “You’re my mission.”

“Then finish it,” Bucky gasped. “Because I’m with you... until the end of the line.”

A beat of silence.

Then, like a dam breaking, Steve’s expression shattered. The coldness in his eyes flickered, replaced by a flash of the man Bucky remembered—his Steve.

His guard dropped just slightly, shield lowering.

Bucky reached out, voice gentle but firm, “Come back. Fight with me. Not for Hydra, but for us.”

Steve’s breath caught, the battle inside him raging. Memories surged—your laughter, the nights you stayed up comforting Bucky, the promises made on rain-soaked rooftops.

“Bucky...” Steve whispered, voice thick with emotion, “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“You’re the man who never gave up,” Bucky said, gripping Steve’s shoulder. “And I never gave up on you.”

For the first time in decades, Steve let the walls fall.

Bucky held him tight, feeling the tremors of his old friend come back to life. The storm inside Steve began to calm, replaced by the fragile, fierce hope of redemption.

And though you were no longer there, your love had never left — it lived on in Bucky’s strength, in their bond, in the promise to stand together… until the end of the line.

────✪────

Sebastian Stan taglist: @notreallythatlost @houseofaegon @bunnyfella @sunday-bug @wintrsoldrluvr @maryevm @mcira @monsteraddicts-world @positivenergy @cherriesnmango @navs-bhat

[shanastoryteller]

tony gets kidnapped on his way to a business meeting or something and he goes with it because they’re in a pretty crowded area and he doesn’t want some innocent bystanders getting hurt in the scuffle. the team will notice eventually and his overprotective boyfriend captain american is going to 1. notice very quickly and 2. freak the fuck out, so he’s not really risking much here

also these kidnappers are sort of stupid and he’s not really worried about escaping later. except even though they’re stupid they mention things about the avengers and shield that they really shouldn’t know so tony decides to stick around to see if he can figure out if they lucked into hacking past his security (not likely) or if there’s some sort of mole

except the leader and the underlings get in an argument right in front of him because apparently they were supposed to capture captain america, not iron man, and the guy who grabbed him is like no, no, this is better! we have his boyfriend so we can lure him here instead!

meanwhile tony is just stating in disbelief that these idiots manage to string two thoughts together. there has to be mole. or someone else really in charge. or something.

and the leader is like fine whatever. he takes tony’s phone and opens the contacts and snorts, “this is what you have him saved us? pathetic”

tony looks at the contact labeled <3 <3 love of my life light in the dark wind beneath my wings <3 <3 and is sort of glad he’s gagged so he can’t say anything

he still doesn’t really know what’s going on and jarvis is still trying to hack their system an there’s no harm in sticking around a little longer since these people are. you know. idiots

except approximately fifteen minues later rhodey is busting down the wall and taking out all these guys in thirty seconds flat and tony slips out of the ropes that he’d undone about five minutes after being put into them (thanks nat) and pulls down the gag and says, “i thought you were on radio silence on a mission in ghana”

“i thought you could be trusted on your own, so it looks like we’re both wrong,” rhodey says. “what were you playing at?”

“i would have told you not to come if i’d known you’d get the message,” he protests. “i was working an angle here, okay, jarvis are you into their systems yet?”

“yes,” his trusty ai says from his phone from one of the kidnapper’s pockets. “tracing the origin of their financial backer now.”

“you really didn’t have to stay kidnapped for jarvis to do that,” rhodey points out, brushing him off and checking him for injuries.

tony shrugs. “i didn’t want to risk one of them getting away and tipping them off. take care of them i could. do it before they got a signal out without the suit? maybe not.”

this very reasonable discussion is interrupted by the rest of the avengers coming in swinging and then left blinking except for steve who feels the need to fuss over him while tony whines and complains and pretends he doesn’t love it

he says they were after steve anyway, he was just bait and steve frowns and is like well, why didn’t they try and contact me then? we knew something was wrong because of the stark industries security footage

and natasha, the sneak, has picked tony’s phone from the kidnapper’s pocket. he lunges for it but she skips back from him and says, “well it looks like they tried. they just messaged the wrong person”

steve takes the phone and sees the contact name and that the kidnappers sent the message we have your boyfriend and if you don’t do exactly what we say you’ll never see him again and is like. this is what rhodey is saved as in your phone?? what am i??

“look, the things is, it’s not like i actually use anyone’s contact, or look at it, i just tell jarvis who to call, so you really shouldn’t take this personally,” tony says.

steve types in his own number and stares in disbelief. “captain? i’m saved in your phone as CAPTAIN?”

“okay well when you gave me your number we weren’t dating and also you were being very mean to me at the time, so,” he says, resisting the urge to hide behind rhodey because he doesn’t think that will help

steve turns his gaze to rhodey. “what is tony saved as in your phone?”

“i really don’t think that’s relevant,” he answers, looking back at the hole in the wall like he’s considering flying out of it.

“jarvis, what’s tony saved as in rhodey’s contacts?” steve asks.

tony says, “j, don’t-“

“sir is saved in colonel rhodes’s contacts as baby,” jarvis answers.

clint is laughing so hard he’s going to break a rib. natasha raises an eyebrow, which is about the same thing

steve’s face is pure betrayal

“it’s because he’s an infant,” rhodey says, “and very needy and he throws up on me a lot.”

“hey!” tony scowls. “i haven’t done that in years!”

“and when you were texted about your boyfriend being kidnapped, you just knew it was tony?” steve asks.

rhodey shrugs. “well, who else would it be?”

even steve doesn’t have an answer to that

“it’s purely platonic,” tony says reassuringly, “carol would scratch my eyes out.”

steve scowls and sulks until tony changes his contact name

except now he’s in tony’s phone as captain handsome. he tells himself it’s an upgrade

[byeuijoo]

am i in love? 𐀔 boynextdoor

genre : fluff ⋆ warnings : very, very cheesy ⋆ word count : 594

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ୨ ✩ ୧

⭒ park sungho

when he realized he loved you as more than just a friend, sungho tried to play it cool. which is funny because, in reality, you soon realized that something had changed : he was trying more to flirt with you and get your attention, while selling his merits by making you understand that he was better than the others. he'd show you a bit more of his muscles, show you his soccer skills.. and even though he tried to be discreet about his feelings, he failed miserably when you asked him directly if he had a crush on you.

⭒ lee riwoo

when he realizes he's fallen in love with you, sanghyeok tends to be more distant with you, but simply out of sheer shyness. but he'll still do his best to get your attention in subtle ways : he delivers flowers at your house with a little card and a hand-written poem, he tries to send you signals on social networks, hoping that miraculously you'll understand that he's talking to you.. he's a discreet admirer whom you've noticed and whom you like to panic by getting a little too close to him, just to see his cheeks redden because of your smile.

⭒ myung jaehyun

he was already clingy, but when he realizes he's developed feelings for you, oh boi, jaehyun is even more clingy. nevertheless, there are some changes that you can easily notice : the tips of his ears get redder when you flirt with him, he's always trying to hold your hand in his, even when you're doing nothing but sitting close to each other, he always tries to get your attention and gets sulky when you talk to other boys.. he's so down for you, he can't help reminding you that he exists all the time.

⭒ han taesan

to have spent so much time by your side, getting to know you and finding out more about you, dongmin realized that his heart was beating faster than normal when his eyes met your smile. he'll become more shy, without giving you radio silence. but let's just say that he laughs more easily at your jokes, that he observes you smiling like an idiot more often, and most of all, he'll share more of his favorite music with you. (he's probably trying to convey his feelings through the lyrics, but you're too blind to see it.)

⭒ kim leehan

to say that donghyun has had a crush on you since first sight would not be a lie — of course, his feelings built up gradually, but you were already running through his mind every day since you met. he's quite calm, and has no trouble keeping his feelings to himself, but he tends to look you in the eye in a different way now. more warmly, more tenderly, with a hint of shyness in his eyes. and he has to admit that your smile makes his heart skip a beat.

⭒ kim woonhak

woonhak is totally vocal about the fact that he loves you. he don't care about other people opinions, he just wants to make sure you know he likes you. so every day, he brings you a carton of his favorite chocolate milk, leaving a note on it, reminding you that he likes you — again. or he'll probably just show up when you least expect it, standing in front of you with the most dazzling smile, and you have to admit that hearing him say those words in person makes you all shy and smiley. even if you need time to make a decision, woonhak remains patient and does everything to keep your full attention on him.

⠀

reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated !

taglist ౨ৎ @wtfhyuck @florainnie @dazzlingligth @yuma-is-mine @lilriswife4life @leehanascent @wantmatthew

[lostgirlmuseum]

The Signal

Made this using images from Pinterest ^ Word Count: 6.1k 

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: You and Bucky get separated from the team after an unfortunate mishap, of which Bucky blames you. Except you’re not at fault! You thought… you aren’t too sure anymore.

A/N: Thank you all so much for all of the positivity on my first fic, I am actually BLOWN AWAY. You are all so kind!! I actually started writing this all the way back in February of 2022, but seeing the response gave me the motivation to finally finish it. 

Warnings: Nothing absolutely horrible, just a bit of angst and fluff(?), plus a little gaslighting and violence.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“Everything is going to be okay. We’re fine. Everything is fine. Everything–” She repeated the mantra over and over again, not quite believing it.

“Will you shut up?” Bucky growled. 

Only an hour prior had both of them been sneaking through a dense forest and scoping out a running ex-HYDRA base deep in the frozen woods. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Y/N were used to missions like this, except this one required a higher level of subtlety and a successful sneak attack was critical. Their intel informed them that the base was rigged to blow if any unrecognized technology was detected, including any disturbances in the radio waves. Because of this, they all turned off their communications signals once they approached the range of the base. At least, they were supposed to.

“I’m just trying to keep myself from freaking out.” She grumbled, slightly trailing behind Bucky as they crunched through the brittle layer of snow.

“Why? You should be freaking out. You should very much be freaking out right now. Considering we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no connection to anyone who can help, and I’m stuck with you.” He recognized he was being cruel, but he didn’t have the strength to stop.

“It wasn’t my fault!” 

“The sooner you stop lying to yourself, the better.” Bucky responded without even looking over his shoulder. He hadn’t looked at her for the majority of their trek to the nearest safe house since they got separated from the rest of the group by the explosion.

“This is not my damn fault! I turned off my signal, just like Steve told us to.” She struggled to keep up with him, but she wouldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t show him any weakness–he’d just use it against her.

“Except you didn’t!”

“How are you so sure it was me? There were five of us!” She awkwardly jogged to get a bit ahead of him, and turned around to face him as she walked backward. “What makes you think it wasn’t you?”

“Please, like I would ever be so careless.” His gaze remained on the terrain ahead, and it looked like the trees of the woods were starting to thin out, signaling an exit soon.

“And I would?”

“Yes! Yes, you would. I knew from the start it was a bad idea to take you along. You can’t even follow simple instructions like turning off a signal.” He managed to pass her again, leaving her to struggle to stay next to him. He saw out of the corner of his eye her pointing a finger at him.

“I’m trying really hard not to take your attitude personally. You’ve been acting like a dick for the past week, but I’m sick of it.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sweetheart?” He finally glanced at her. 

“Yes.”

“Why? Is it reserved for Steve?” Bucky’s eyes quickly returned to the path in front of him.

“What are you on about?” Genuine confusion laced her voice, but her question went unanswered as they reached a block in their path. 

“Y’know your genius safe house plan?” Bucky gestured to the map balled up in her hand, the thing they had been using to guide them to safety. “Well, looks like we’re here.”

“This can’t be right,” she shook her head, quickly unfolding the map, “maybe we got turned around.”

“Just look up.” 

She followed Bucky’s gaze to the sky, at which she finally realized the ridiculousness of their situation. They were stranded at the bottom of a steep cliff, which looked to stand nearly a hundred feet in the sky.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Because who the fuck puts a safe house on top of a cliff? “There’s got to be an elevator or something, there’s no way we’re expected to climb this.”

They both scanned the base of the cliff, looking for any indication of a secret passage to the top. She ran her hand along the jagged rock and ice, and bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on the wall, eventually spotting a thick rope among a couple vines. 

“Shit.” 

Her voice gained Bucky’s attention, and he looked over to see her holding not one, but two ropes, each attached to a relatively large weaved basket. It wasn’t quite big enough for the two of them, but one person could definitely fit. 

“After you,” he mocked, gesturing to the basket that was meant to work as a (sketchy as hell) pulley system.

Instead of answering, she merely pointed to the inside of the damp basket. Bucky peered his head over to see the bottom had completely fallen apart, leaving a gaping hole where a person would supposedly stand. 

“Looks like we’re climbing.” Bucky sighed.

“I can’t–” 

“Afraid of heights?” He snapped.

“No, but–” 

“Good. Then there shouldn’t be a problem.” 

He grabbed a knife from his belt and efficiently cut both sides of the rope from the basket. She watched, dumbfounded, as he took one rope and tied it around his waist. Then, he gave the rope a hard tug, and satisfied by the lack of give, turned to his belt and grabbed three more knives. He grabbed duct tape out of his tac pants, and expertly taped one knife to the bottom of each shoe. Finally, he tossed her the duct tape, knowing she already had her own knives. She watched both impressed and annoyed as he firmly stuck his feet as best he could into the ice and rock of the cliff, and used the other knives in his hands as leverage.

He made it about ten feet up before glancing back down to see she hadn’t moved.

“Are you coming or what?” The impatience of his voice stung almost as much as the cold did her nose. 

She looked at him, then the rope, and then the knives attached to her legs, before making a move. Unlike Bucky, her combat boots came equipped with hidden spikes that could be used for climbing (although she had never used them for such activity, and normally used them as a treat when fighting, basking in the pride of catching her enemies off guard with a swift kick and metal spike to the face, groin, etc). She adjusted the spikes to be poking out of the toe of her boots, and tried not to think as she grabbed the second rope and knotted it around her waist. 

Ignoring her left hand, she grabbed only one knife opposed to Bucky’s two, and stabbed it into the ice. She cautiously looked down at her feet as she began her climb, and looked back up at her hand as she found purchase a foot above her head. Already exhausted from the fighting and explosion earlier, she winced at the tension in her right arm as she pulled herself up. 

At the slow pace she was going, Bucky was already 15 feet in the air by the time she was 3 feet off the ground.

Bucky looked down to see her far behind, and raised an eyebrow when he saw her climbing with only one hand.

“You’re supposed to use both hands, you know?” He mocked.

She rolled her eyes, but said nothing, as she let her left hand join her right hand on the handle of the knife protruding from the rock. Bucky noticed her silent grimace as she successfully pulled herself up to the next level. He continued to watch as she stiffly removed her right foot from the wall and placed it above her left foot, before once again grabbing the single knife with both her hands and pulling for a second before letting out an agonizing cry.

Out of curiosity more than frustration, he called down.

“What’s going on down there?” 

She briefly looked up at him before looking back at the ground, “I can’t climb.”

“Missed the training day on it?” 

His sarcasm went unappreciated as she growled.

“My wrist is broken, asshole.”

Her wrist is broken, and she’s climbing? What is she thinking?

“And you’re still trying to climb? You should’ve told me.” 

“I fucking tried telling you! But everytime I try to say something, you interrupt me! Constantly! Besides, what’s the point in telling you if you’re just going to brush it off?”

Bucky swiftly removed the knives in his hands from the cliff, and held onto his rope, before half-hopping and half-climbing down the wall to the ground.

“Bucky, just go,” she sighed, “I’ll figure something else out. I’m not going to be a burden on you.”

She said it in part because, yes, she didn’t want to burden him, but also because she didn’t want to hear his whiny complaints.

He ignored her protests and gently reached for her left hand, inspecting the incredibly swollen wrist. He winced at her soft whimper. He let go and simply looked at her.

“Hop down.” 

She didn’t like that he was ordering her around, but his voice was void of any emotion, and out of curiosity and self preservation skills, she obeyed.

“C’mon.” Bucky turned around so his back faced her.

After a couple moments of silence, he looked over his shoulder to see her face twisted in confusion.

“C’mon now, just get on.” He repeated, squatting down a bit more. “You’re going to have to hold on tight.”

Ignoring the absurdity of the situation, she did her best to climb onto his back, at which point he gently grabbed her non-injured arm and wrapped it around his neck to encourage her to not be afraid to cling to him.

After what likely was about twenty minutes of climbing in utter silence, minus the whipping of the cool wind, Bucky made the mistake of looking down. The good news was that they were almost at the top–probably about a quarter of the climb left. The bad news was that meant that they had already climbed about 75 feet, and despite Bucky’s fearless persona, he was not fearless.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

“What’s wrong?” She rested her chin on his right shoulder.

“Nothing… I just didn’t realize how high up we were.” He grimaced the moment he said it. He’d shown weakness. He’d given her ammo. “Gonna make fun of me now?” He started to shake just a little, and prayed that she would assume it was because of the cold and not his anxiety…even though it had been cold for the entirety of the climb.

“No.” She stated.

His head started to spin from the memories. He tried to push through it, but all he could think about was the first time he was this high up. It was as cold as this too. He felt as his left arm subconsciously twitched. 

The first time I was this high up, I still had two human arms.

A sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“I think I can see the compound from here.” 

It was a stupid joke, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“You know, I’m pretty scared of the ocean.” She continued.

He didn’t respond, unsure of where she was going with this. He continued to pull themselves up.

“Just deep water in general scares me. My brother always made fun of me for it.” 

Don’t look down, Bucky. Don’t look–

“One time when I was like–fifteen? I think? My family took a trip to this really big lake. We got on one of those pontoon boats and went out into the water.”

He was glad that she was so close to him, otherwise the whipping of the wind would’ve been too loud to hear her calming voice.

“My brother thought he was really funny, and told me to look over the edge of the boat while we were still in motion.”

He tried to grunt to indicate he was listening, but no noise came out.

“He pushed me right as my dad started speeding up. I fell in, and freaked out. Especially as I watched the boat leave me behind.”

He continued to listen to her and focused on her voice, and the vibrations. Her tone was casual, but he couldn’t help but sense she was telling him a secret.

“Luckily, my mom saw what happened, and got my dad to turn around.” She chuckled. “He claimed he was trying to help me get over my fear. But I got my revenge later that day, so it was fine.”

“What’d you do?” Bucky finally spoke up.

“Well, he’s afraid of peanut butter.” She tried to shrug, despite having one arm around his neck and the other hanging limply. 

“Do you mean allergic?”

“No, I mean afraid. The stuff freaks him out. He won’t go near it. He’s weird like that.” She sighed in remembrance, and continued.

“So once we got back to the house I grabbed some peanut butter, and slathered it into his hair when he wasn’t looking.”

Bucky looked up again and was surprised to see how close they were to the top. When did that happen?

“He screamed so loud–it was hilarious.” She smiled. “He ran to take a shower, flailing around and being dramatic. ‘Mom! She put peanut butter in my hair! My hair! Mommy, get it out!’” 

Worried that Bucky was judging her, she quickly added,

“He was seventeen at the time, by the way.”

Still no answer.

“I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet.” She whispered more to herself than Bucky, but he still nodded as he grabbed at the top of the cliff.

“We’re here.” Bucky didn’t mean for his voice to come across gruff, but the cold wasn’t helping his throat. 

“Thank you for carrying me.” She smiled once she had both feet on the ground. It didn’t reach her eyes, but he could still tell she meant it.

Slightly embarrassed, Bucky attempted to grumble out a ‘Thank you for distracting me,’ but he wasn’t sure she heard it.

Come on, you can do better than that Barnes. Just apologize to her, he thought.

“Listen, I know I’ve been acting like a–”

Bucky’s words were cut off by a mysterious and sudden mangled…shriek?

“Oh my God, Bucky.” She patted his arm to get him to turn around.

He obliged, and his eyes became saucers when he saw what had made the noise. 

At the top of the cliff was a partially snowy but also grassy plateau, inhabited by a herd of roaming goats. So, so many goats. 

“Look at all the goats!” She gasped.

Right as she had said it, one goat had snuck up to them and started biting at Bucky’s prosthetic. 

“Get off,” he quelled his shock and grumbled as he shook the animal off of his hand.

“Aw, it likes you.” She giggled, falling to her knees to pet the goat—more like ‘goats’, plural, because the animals seemed to multiply, and fast. 

“Let’s get inside. We need to fix that wrist.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Beside the disturbingly large population of goats, and the absurd location of the safe house, the house itself was fine. Well, it was shaped more like a barn, but it was decorated like a house. After coaxing Y/N away from the “adorable” (her words, not Bucky’s) goats, and inside, Bucky led Y/N to the forest green rug where he had started a fire in the fireplace. 

When he finished briefly looking around, Bucky grabbed some ice that had frozen outside the barn and wrapped it in a cloth from the kitchen. With her permission, Bucky carefully placed the ice pack where he saw the most bruising around her wrist. 

“So,” Bucky had settled himself across from her, so they could face each other as they talked. He couldn’t help the pang of sadness he felt as she stood up and backed away to sit on the couch.

She wouldn’t move away if I were Steve, he thought, staring into the fire. They’d probably cuddle up together like they do on the couch during movie nights at the tower. 

Y/N didn’t want to move away from Bucky, especially now that he was being amicable again. But the heat from the flames was melting the ice that cradled her wrist, and she didn’t want to add ‘soggy’ to her list of problems.

“So?” She asked, noticing Bucky never finished his thought.

“I’m just thinking about the logistics of this. There’s a high possibility we could be stuck here anywhere from a week to a month. Your signal was fried in the blast too, right?”

She nodded, and released her right hand from holding the ice, letting it balance on her wrist, as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her signal. Definitely fried. 

He pulled out his own signal from where he had kept it in his pants pocket, and showed her how it was crushed. “Well, without our signals, our team can’t track us. We just have to hope that they’ll figure out that we made it to a safe house, and that they don’t check this one last. Because I’m pretty sure there are at least two more safehouses dedicated to the vicinity of the Hydra base, right?”

She nodded. “We got unlucky with this one.”

“First thing we need to worry about,” he raised his eyebrows, trying to gain her attention, “is food. I looked at the kitchen pretty quickly and there’s not that much stuff stocked. A couple cans of beans, and such. Not nearly enough for how long we’re going to be here though. So unless we want to climb back down again, and see if we can find any food anywhere…”

She squinted and tilted her head as if she was a confused puppy.

“We’re going to have to kill a goat.” He finished.

Her eyes went comically wide. “I am not letting you kill Cheetoh!”

Bucky shook his head, exasperated, “You’ve already named them?”

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The longer they were there, the worse the winds got. But that didn’t stop Bucky from hearing the strange overlap of whipping winds, leading him to lean into the noise from his spot on the couch. 

“Do you hear that?” Bucky nudged her.

“It sounds like the wind got a lot worse,” She nodded.

“No, something’s off.”

At Bucky’s concern, Y/N got up off the couch and beat him to the doors. She looked at Bucky, who stood directly behind her, before pushing hard to get the sliding door to budge. Instantly the biting cold attacked them again, and she had to place her right arm over her forehead to keep her hair from whipping into her eyes. Everything outside seemed to be an array of grays, until she was able to spot a shadowy figure emerge from the settling fog. A person appeared, as well as a helicopter.

“Sam?” She called, hoping her voice carried far enough to be heard above the wind.  

“Y/N! Bucky! Thank god you guys are okay,” Sam called back, and was quickly met by Y/N who had run the rest of the distance to meet him. Bucky was shortly behind. 

“I’ve never been so happy to see your face, Sam.” She giggled, setting her right hand appreciatively on his shoulder. 

Quickly spotting Steve exiting the chopper, Bucky hid a scowl as he watched Y/N light up and bound over to the bundled up blond, while calling, “Steve!” He wished he had looked away before seeing her pull him in for a hug.

Wanting to distance himself from the interaction, Bucky stood by Sam.

“How did you find us so fast?” Bucky shook his head, and raised his voice, as the wind started to pick up again. 

“My signal, man.” Sam yelled back, despite being three feet apart. 

“What?” Bucky wondered if he heard him right. 

Sam reached into the left pocket of Bucky’s under jacket, and pulled out a small familiar looking device. 

Bucky felt a punch to the gut as he suddenly remembered.

The group had just landed the quinjet deep into the forest. They couldn’t land too close to the base and risk setting off alarms, so they settled for a three mile hike away. Bucky and Sam were meant to approach from the north side, while Steve, Natasha, and Y/N planned to approach from the south side, so the group split off after the jet to take opposite round-a-bout paths. It was about two miles left to go when Sam started complaining. 

“Dude, does this thing actually fit in your ear?” Sam gestured to the communications device in his hand. “Because it keeps falling out. It’s getting on my nerves.”

Bucky gave a short grunt, which Sam translated to a ‘yes, it does fit in my ear.’

“I can’t,” Sam finally huffed, “I give up. I don’t have any pockets, can you hold this so I don’t lose it?” 

Simply wishing for Sam to shut up, he obliged, and shoved the tiny device into his pocket for safe keeping. Neither of them thought to turn it off first, because in their minds, and past experiences, it always stays turned on in the field. Excluding the moments when people turn them off in acts of defiance. 

About a mile later, both men heard a small rustling to their right. In hindsight, it was probably just a rabbit, but Sam suggested he go check it out, just in case. That’s what led to the two splitting up, but Bucky wasn’t worried. He knew that if there was a problem, Sam would’ve made it clear immediately. He also knew that Sam knew his way to the base all on his own. 

Bucky arrived at his location at the same time that Steve’s voice buzzed in his ear. At this point, the extra signal was long forgotten. 

“We’re in position.” Steve’s voice rattled. 

“10-4.” Bucky responded. 

“Alright, going dark now. Turn off your comms, let’s go.” 

Steve’s voice was followed by the soft beep of Bucky’s signal as he turned it off. 

He didn’t realize Sam’s signal was still active in his pocket.

“It was just bad luck dude, don’t feel too bad. I should’ve turned it off before I gave it to you, and I shouldn’t have assumed you’d turn it off yourself.” Sam tried to hide his pity with a half-smile.

“I–I was the leak?” Bucky whispered right as the wind started to calm again. He stared at the small device as Sam hid it in the pocket of his own coat. If only Sam had worn that on the way to the base.

“Yeah,” Sam said at a normal level now that the noise had nearly ceased, “but everyone’s safe now, that’s all that matters.” Sam reassuringly pat Bucky’s shoulder twice before looking back at Steve helping Y/N into the chopper.

Bucky let out a short hum, and focused on the ground. He wanted to crush that stupid little signal. He hated the way it made his chest feel tight, and his heart heavy with guilt. 

Sam’s voice interrupted Bucky’s thoughts.

“Those are a lot of goats, man.”

Before Bucky could respond, Steve appeared in front of them.

“Hey Buck,” Steve smiled, pulling him in for a quick hug, “I’m glad we found you so fast. Are you injured at all?” Steve pulled back to examine Bucky’s form.

“No, I’m fine,” Bucky swiftly assured, before feeling the throbbing of guilt consume him again, “but Y/N’s wrist is broken.”

“Don’t worry, I know. I already told her I’d take her straight to medical once we get back. Speaking of, we should get going.”

“Right.” 

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Three hours later, the group made it back to New York. As the ramp lowered, Bucky quietly pulled Steve aside.

“I can walk Y/N to med.” He nodded to where she was sitting, staring off into space.

“You sure?” Steve struggled to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded.

“Okay.”

Bucky gave his friend a firm pat on the shoulder before sauntering toward Y/N, who remained in her seat.

“Come on, Y/N.” He held out his right hand, offering her to take it.

“Huh?” She blinked twice, and stared up at him, eyebrows scrunched.

“I’m walking you to med.” 

“Oh. Okay.” She paused for a moment before standing up. “So much for being stuck for months.”

“Yeah, I guess that calculation was a bit off.”

“I’m just glad we’re back home. And that you didn’t need to kill any goats.”

“I was going to leave Cheetoh alone.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.”

The rest of their walk was relatively short, but silent, until they reached the doors of Dr. Cho. Bucky didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, as Dr. Cho was given a heads up to Y/N’s injury, and already whisked her away.

Bucky rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a minute, until he decided it would be uncomfortable for all parties involved if he stayed. He knew she’d be alright, he convinced himself, so there was no need to be in the way.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

A couple of the Avengers found themselves mentally recovering in the lounge, waiting for Y/N to get out of her evaluation.

“She’ll probably be out for two months. Broken wrist and all that.” Steve relayed, taking a seat on the couch.

“Two months?” Sam repeated, looking up from his bag of chips.

“I think she’s pretty bummed, so try not to mention it.”

As if on cue, Y/N entered the room.

“Hey guys,” she smiled, waving with the arm that wasn’t in a cast.

“Hey Hon. How’s the wrist?”

“Really, Tony?” Natasha glared at him.

“What?” He feigned innocence, throwing his hands in the air.

“It’s fine guys. It doesn’t hurt that bad, I’m more embarrassed than anything.” 

“Embarrassed by what? I think that cast makes you look tough.” Sam added, doing his best to cheer others up as always. “And hey, you and Bucky can be twins now.”

“Yeah, kinda. Look at that Buck!” She lifted her left arm in the direction of Bucky, who had been silently brooding in the corner. The bulk could be seen under the fabric of her hoodie, but she felt the need to emphasize the point by taking the pullover off.

She first tried tugging the sleeve off her cast, but it was a bit too snug. After a couple more moments of failing, she switched tactics to just pulling off the hoodie from over her head, but that got her stuck in an awkward position too.

After a second too long of borderline uncomfortable silence and shuffling, Steve spoke up.

“Do you want help with that?”

“Nope, I got it. Just gimme- a second…” 

Somehow she had gotten the garment twisted around her right arm and upper body.

“Hon, just let us-” Tony started, but was quickly cut off.

“You know what? It’s suddenly cold again. There’s a weird draft over here.” Y/N quickly tugged the hoodie back down and gave a weary smile. “I’m going to go to my room.”

She ran off before anyone could offer an opinion. Unsurprisingly, Steve was the first to speak.

“I’m going to go check on her.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

A soft knock came to her door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Steve gave a sympathetic smile as he gently closed the door behind him.

“Hi Steve, what’s up?” She looked fine, but he could hear the strain in her voice.

“Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He stood in front of where she sat at the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a little frustrated, it’s no big deal.” She shrugged it off, avoiding his eye line.

“It’s okay to feel frustrated.” 

“I know. I shouldn’t though. It’s my fault, anyways.”

“How so?”

She cast her gaze to the floor and swept a hand through her hair.

“Well, I think the whole reason we were ambushed was because of me.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

She took a deep breath.

“After Bucky and I got stranded after the attack, I was sure it wasn’t my fault. But then he started saying things, and they were mean… but he was also right. I started second guessing myself, and I thought about it. I mean, out of all of us, I’m the newest. And I was so sure that I turned my signal off…but now I don’t know. I can’t remember. And if it really is my fault they found us, then it’s my fault that fight happened, and it’s my own doing that this—” she pointed to her cast, “happened. I just feel stupid.”

“You weren’t the leak, Y/N.”

“What?”

“It was an accident. Bucky was carrying an extra signal, and no one thought to turn it off.”

“Bucky?” She looked bewildered, shaking her head at this fact.

“Yes.”

“Does he know?”

“Um…I’m not sure. I didn’t tell him. We never had a proper briefing after the chaos derailed our schedule when we got back.”

“I have to go find him.” Her shock turned to a quiet determination of which Steve decided not to push her on.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still want your hoodie off?”

“Yes please.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“Buck, wait up!”

Bucky slowed his jog around the track to a stop when he heard her voice.

“Y/N?”

“Hey.” She gave him a sweet smile once she caught up, one he felt undeserving of.

“Is there something you need?” 

“No. I just had to tell you something.”

“I’m listening.” He nodded, crossing his arms. He didn’t mean it in a defensive way, it just happened.

“First of all, you should know it’s not your fault.”

“What?” 

“I just found out how we got ambushed, and I figured I should tell you.”

“Oh.” He fought the urge to look away.

“Sam gave you his signal, right? But it was never turned off. It was just an accident. But I needed to tell you, because I know you’re going to blame yourself when they tell everyone at the briefing.” Her concerned tone and eyes met him for the briefest second before he wiped his hands down his face.

“I feel like an asshole.”

“No, please don’t.” She softly touched his elbow.

“I’m going to be honest Y/N, I thought you were going to take it a lot worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you found out that it was me. I was worried you were going to get really mad.”

“Wait, you already knew?”

“Yeah? Sam told me right when he found us…I thought you knew I knew, isn’t that why you just told me all that?”

“I thought you didn’t know. I wanted to be the one to tell you before the briefing, to tell you not to worry about it, because I knew you’d take it hard. But–but you already knew?”

Bucky just stared, jaw dropped at a loss for words.

“And–” She scoffed, “—and you didn’t tell me?!”

“Y/N, I-” 

“Don’t ‘Y/N’, me! You—you, jerk! I can’t believe you knew all this time that you were the leak, and after belittling me and convincing me it was my fault, you didn’t tell me the truth!” She laughed in disbelief. “You selfish, cold-hearted, dickhead!”

He wasn’t sure what to say, but it didn’t matter, because she kept going.

“I’m stuck off missions for the next two months with a broken wrist, and you let me think it was my own doing! You made me feel like an idiot!”

“I was going to tell you—”

“When? After I was already told at the meeting? I can’t believe you!” She turned around briefly as if she couldn’t even face him, but quickly turned back. “To think I felt bad for you when I found out it was you who got us ambushed!”

With each insult she managed to get a little closer to him. So close, in fact, that Bucky was struggling to even comprehend what she was saying anymore. All he could think of was how close he was to her, how his hands were just itching to grab her waist. His head was nearly empty when he finally did carefully grab her and pull her closer to him. She paused her rampage to look up into his adoring eyes at his sudden movement.

“Bucky?” She whispered, a swirl of confusion and intrigue.

He replied by placing his lips gently on hers, feeling the warmth of her touch. She reciprocated, kissing him back for a couple seconds before bringing her hands to his chest to furiously push him away, followed by a swift slap to the face.

“Jeez-” The sudden change from bliss to reality was shocking.

“I can’t believe you James!” She yelled, her flustered look from both the kiss and her rage. “I can’t believe you just kissed me! I have a right to be angry, fuck you for thinking you can shut me up by locking my lips!”

‘Shit, I messed up,” he starts to think, about to spew apologies, when he gets cut off by her grasping his hoodie in her hand and pulling him back in for another kiss. The moment his shock subsides and he sinks back into the waves of her kiss, he’s just as abruptly taken from it, head dizzy as she parts from him just to slap him across the cheek again.

“Ow! What was that for?” He brings his hand to the sting. He’s so dazed and confused, a hurricane of thoughts and emotions all fighting for his attention.

“You make me so mad! I’m fuming right now! You are so selfish—”

She cuts herself off, pulling him in for another kiss, one that he’s still not prepared for. His frustration rising at her antics, he brings both hands to either side of her face and holds her steadily against him, resulting in their first kiss that lasted longer than five seconds. When he finally feels her about to let go for breath, he lets his lips leave hers, and continues to cradle her head, their foreheads resting against each other as they both gasp for breath. 

“You’re not going to slap me again, are you?” He carefully asks, looking into her eyes.

“No.” 

“You’re sure?”

“No.”

He laughs and slowly lets go of her.

“You okay?”

After a few seconds of silence, she responds with hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I’ve already given you enough reason to hate me, I was sure that if you found out I was the leak, you’d finally hate me for good.”

“I don’t hate you Bucky. I always figured you kind of hated me. Lately you’ve been acting kind of like-”

“A dick, I know,” he nods. “And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. It’s just-” Bucky’s voice seizes as she sees him look intensely at her mouth.

“It’s what?”

“Can I please kiss you again?”

She slowly nods, and allows Bucky to kiss her for the fourth time. It was fucking heaven to him. Regardless, he abruptly pulls back when a thought crosses his mind.

“Shit, what about Steve?”

“What about Steve?”

“Don’t you like each other?” 

She couldn’t help but think his concern was cute, the way he acted like he was talking about middle school crushes.

“Bucky, no,” she laughs, “Steve and I have just always been really good friends. You know, when people are nice to each other, and they like to hang around each other?”

“I just always thought that-”

“Never. He’s my friend. And I can guarantee you he feels the same as me.”

She lets him process the information, watching him nod to himself as if taking it in.

“Oh.”

“Are you jealous?” She smirks, giving him a flirty shove.

His cheeks go pink as he starts to stutter.

“Jea- jealous? No, not jealous. Just-”

Was he jealous? Was it emasculating to admit it? It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care, he’s sick of lying.

“Okay, maybe I was a little bit jealous.” He mumbled, drawing his attention to a pebble on the ground that he was toeing. “So, you do like me, right?” 

She lifts his chin upwards and gives him the softest, sweetest, slowest peck. 

“Does that answer your question?” She flutters.

“I think so. But the slapping earlier was a bit confusing.” He teased.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright, it was well deserved.”

“No, I still shouldn’t have hit you.” She said with certainty. “But I am still a little bit upset that you didn’t tell me.”

“Doll, I know I should’ve told you that you weren’t the leak. I wish–”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I’m upset you never told me how you felt about me. Instead you acted-”

“Like a dick, I know–”

“No, I was going to say like a child. But yeah, a dick, too.”

They just stood together for that moment, appreciating the start of something new. New, and beautiful, with a lot less animosity, and a lot more kisses.

A/N: If you’ve made it this far, thank you, thank you, thank you! I hope you liked it. If you feel like it, please lemme know your thoughts! I hope you have a peaceful day/night 💕

[targaryenfelikayt]

imprisonment. |The Sinclair Brothers|

wc: 2,770 summary: restriction of a person's liberty for any reason whatsoever, whether by order of a government or by a person acting without such authority. tags/warnings: anxiety, uncertain end, kidnapping, one-sided feelings. note: if you read this in Russian, then yes, I am translating my works into English.

Bo Sinclair.

This damn trip started as badly as it would end. From the beginning, the rental car's engine was acting up, but the group decided to ignore after all, an adventure awaited them: a journey through the land of boundless freedom, with mountain ranges, wild beaches, endless forests, and scorching deserts. It was the ninth hour on the road, most of which had passed along the highway, and if not for unexpected construction work, they would’ve reached a big city by nightfall.

“We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.” The girl leaned forward from the back seat, trying to make out something ahead.

The driver wanted to reply, but missed a pothole, hitting it hard with the front left tire. The jolt slammed her head into the car's ceiling and flung her backward. She hissed in frustration, fumbling for her seatbelt to avoid being tossed around again.

That wasn’t easy trying to buckle up while holding a trophy and using a phone flashlight as the car rocked from side to side was a challenge. As she finally clicked the belt into place, two small lights appeared in the window, one after another, as if someone was peeking out from behind the trees.

“Hey, look. Is that… another car?”

Her friend in the passenger seat glanced around, puzzled.

“You’re seeing things. Probably just light bouncing off something. There’s nothing on the map or GPS. Swear to God, this is the boonies.”

“They don’t build bypass roads through the wilderness, even if it’s old.” The driver chimed in.

“There’s nothing left but the name.”

The girl tried to get a signal, but the internet was stubbornly silent about their current location. The next town was still a couple of miles away, maybe an hour and a half or even two, with how dark it was now. After a few more minutes, the headlights caught a welcome sign.

“Welcome to Ambrose. Don’t forget to visit our House of Wax.” The guy read the sign out loud, turning the wheel. “Told you it wasn’t that far.”

“Still is, according to the GPS.” She leaned forward again between the seats.

“Must be crappy coverage out here, ladies, if the tech doesn’t realize we’ve already reached our cozy little stopover. We’ll figure out where to go in the morning. For now, let’s just be happy with this sweet twist of fate.”

Crossing a shallow stream, they drove into town and stopped by a gas station. Everything around was silent, broken only by the faint sound of a radio from inside the convenience store. The streetlights only worked near the station and the church, which stood awkwardly unkempt. Its sharp spire loomed over the low buildings, looking ready to tip over toward the peeling white paint on its north wall. It felt like only old folks still lived here, seeing out the rest of their days.

“I’ll go look for someone. If there’s no motel, maybe we can ask to stay with someone.” The girl carefully stepped out of the car, holding the door as if it, too, had aged with the rest of the town.

The workshop attached to the store greeted her with Rob Zombie playing, the scent of motor oil, and one of those cheap air fresheners. Well, at least someone lived here.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

As she walked past shelves full of random stuff, she noticed a door to the back. Warm light spilled from the basement, and for the love of God, it never even crossed her mind to go down there. Never go into basements or attics, the golden rule of all horror stories and people not looking to get into trouble.

“Hello? Looking for someone. Anyone at all.” She tapped on the wooden hatch.

Her phone buzzed with a notification about seasonal discounts and then went dark. So, there *was* signal—why the hell wasn’t this town on any maps?

“Then I’m probably the best luck you’ll get tonight.”

Startled, she turned toward the voice at the doorway—and froze. A stranger’s head peeked just above the basement steps. His gray eyes studied the unexpected guest with curious intensity. It was going to be a quiet evening: Vincent was working on details for the wax museum, Lester was probably off in the woods as usual, and he... Well, the shop always kept him busy.

The girl tensed. She couldn’t even see his whole face, just the blue mechanic’s coveralls and a baseball cap shadowing most of his features.

“Is that so?” she smiled nervously, trying to hide her unease, but couldn’t stop the flutter in her voice under the weight of his calm confidence.

He stepped onto the first stair without breaking eye contact. The creak made her shoulders twitch. One more step. The sound was worse this time. He relished the tension radiating off her as he took two more stairs with deliberate ease.

“Yeah... That’s so.”

She lifted her head, studying the mechanic who now stood toe to toe with her. Her considerable height seemed to vanish next to a man built like a bear. A grizzly — that’s who he reminded her of. Not some plush toy, but a real predator, walking calmly only until someone disturbed his peace.

Smirking, he stepped over to the hatch and shut it.

“My name’s Bo, and I own the place you’re standing in. What can I help you with?”

“We need a motel, or just somewhere to spend the night. The roads under construction, we had to take a detour, and either your surface is off, or the GPS is glitching — it doesn’t show up on the map.”

“What did you expect,” the man said, leading her along. “Small town, small population. I can offer you a place to stay at my house.”

Opening the front door for her, Sinclair looked over at the group that had gathered. A thought flashed through his mind — it would’ve been better if today were just another ordinary June day. Finding and creating future figures takes a lot of time and energy, especially when you’ve been doing it your whole conscious life. Sure, in a way, lost lambs like this made the job easier, but statues required delicate details, inspiration, not mechanical repetition. They’d never be beautiful otherwise — not the way Mother wanted.

“It’d be great if you could take a look at the car in the morning, before we leave,” she added. “I don’t like the sound it’s making under the hood when we pick up speed.”

The guy standing next to another girl offered his hand and shook Bo’s a little too firmly for someone so scrawny. Better be careful with this one. Hit him on the headfirst, just in case he got any heroic ideas.

“My place is a couple blocks away. I’d say leave your ride here. No one’s gonna steal it — unless the old priest decides to renounce the Lord and relive his youth.”

Flashing a warm smile, Bo locked the garage for show and headed into town. He didn’t need a flashlight to walk the road he could cross blindfolded, but for the tourists, you had to play the part. Good thing Vincent always left the outdoor lights on.

Meanwhile, the girl couldn’t bring herself to stop staring at the broad back ahead of her. The unease didn’t go away. It was hard to understand her own feelings — something inside was sounding the alarm just from the man’s presence, while her brain stayed neutral. After all, there was no *real* reason to fear him. Her tired gaze drifted toward a still-standing house.

Bo entered first, made a joke to the guy about the unlocked door, and offered them something to eat.

“Let me make dinner,” she said, focusing all his attention on him. “It’s no trouble, really. Think of it as a small thank-you.”

Sinclair wasn’t used to anyone playing host on his turf, but looking into her eyes, he didn’t want to object. Two of the others went back to the car when they realized the guy had left his phone there. “Even better,” flashed through his mind as he saw the door close behind them. Left in silence, the man went to change, while the girl was already chopping vegetables. Something heavily coiled under his ribs as he watched her in the familiar setting of his home. That quiet care — toward someone who’d turned her friends into wax statues — amused him... If only she knew who she was cooking for, she might’ve added poison.

“If you help me with the meat, dinner’ll be ready faster,” she called from the kitchen when Bo returned.

“Who’s helping who? Been a long time since I had a real home-cooked meal.”

He managed to dull the gnawing feeling of dread with a smile that turned out softer than he intended. He wanted to see her beside him — always. And in that moment, Bo Sinclair made up his mind. And the one who’d shown him kindness for the first time... would either accept it — or fight him to the end.

Vincent Sinclair.

Muse. Vincent needed one as he finished the new figure for the museum. This guy had been especially difficult to work with, not least because of the time spent dealing with a shoulder shredded by buckshot — stitching the skin back together, cauterizing a damaged vein before that. For a moment, he thought it would’ve been easier to throw the body away, but that moment of weakness passed quickly — you couldn’t afford to waste good material.

Sinclair was truly skilled with surgical tools. In another life, he could’ve been a doctor like his father, but in this one, his mother’s love had steered him in a different direction. Vincent was an artist, a creator, a sculptor, a killer. He never felt any real passion for the act of killing itself, it was more a part of the job, where a lost soul in Ambrose became raw material.

Setting the needle and thread aside, his gaze wandered over his handiwork. Not perfect, but the best he could manage in these conditions. The guy had blacked out a couple of times from the pain, which was for the better, Sinclair hated it when people started moaning. It ruined the whole mood, the creative focus.

The wax was slowly boiling over an open flame, making the room stiflingly hot. The heaviness spread through the basement, wrapping around the artist’s neck and squeezing tight, making it harder to breathe.

Art demands sacrifice, even from its creator.

One night, when Trudy was putting her sons to bed, Vincent couldn’t sleep. His mother was growing nervous, she still had to repair yet another of masks. Lighting a cigarette, she stood by the window for a long time, staring out at the dark silhouettes of the town, as if trying to see what others were doing behind their walls or perhaps lost in her own thoughts.

“Your namesake,” she suddenly turned around, her tired, unblinking gaze locking onto her son, “Vincent van Gogh, cut off his own earlobe in a fit of madness. Brilliant minds are insane. They’re never understood by nobodies and hicks like the ones living in Ambrose.”

The boy nodded, stepping closer, but she stabbed the cigarette out on the painted windowsill, kissed his forehead, and left the room. What was going on in her head, no one ever knew. Not then, not even now.

A sharp whistle pierced the silence. Time to begin the main part of the process, the one where everything depended on how well he’d completed the previous steps. The wax poured down in thick droplets from the pipes, spreading over the body of the unfortunate victim. Yes, she’d been a challenge, but it had been worth it. Watching hours of intense work transforms into an angelic statue, that was something beyond words. Vincent could never get used to it: every time he felt a strange thrill, a flood of thoughts that vanished the moment his hands touched the tools.

He had time now to finish the preparations. Walking over to the clothing rack, he sifted through outfit after outfit, but nothing seemed right. Then his fingers brushed against a pearl hairclip in a box of accessories. He stopped, tracing the beads with his thumb.

That clip… Hers.

So odd forgetting to eat, to sleep, to rest, but remembering exactly what kind of clip she wore that day. Maybe it could be chalked up to an artist’s memory for details, but he’d never had that before.

Slipping it into his pocket, Sinclair paused, then decided to head upstairs. At first, Bo had thought it was a good idea to place the girl in their father’s old study. The room was perfect for keeping an eye on her, with a secret passage connecting it to both the house and the museum. But Vincent had kept shaking his head, knowing it wasn’t practical. It was Lester who finally voiced some sense:

“You guys seriously don’t get it? She’s already locked in give her a space where she can feel at least somewhat safe. Otherwise, we’ll either be hunting her through the woods or turning her corpse into the next exhibit.”

That outcome was the last thing the sculptor wanted, especially after fighting so hard to let her stay in Ambrose. Alive. After a bit more arguing, Bo once again told them to go to hell and stormed out. Lester, unexpectedly, clapped Vincent on the shoulder and said they’d figure it out.

"Did he know something?" Sinclair wondered as he made his way through the catacombs. He thought no one noticed his interest. But really, why else would he have decided to keep her close?

She was otherworldly. And it wasn’t just the airy white dress it was the fact that when she saw him without the mask (which had fallen off during the scuffle with the rest of her group), she hadn’t screamed. It was the fact that, letting the others go, she had to stay behind. Foolish to think they were still alive, but that altruistic act bordering on desperation had left its mark. Would either of his brothers have done the same? Would he?

Vincent didn’t know. He didn’t know what to do with her now, didn’t know how to get closer, how to win her over and he didn’t know what to do with the ache in his chest.

The wooden hatch thudded against the worn carpet with a muffled sound. Somewhere down the hallway, someone flinched—because she knew who had come back. She’d been told clearly: nothing would happen to her if she followed the rules and stayed out of the elder Sinclair’s way. It wasn’t hard, really, considering she hadn’t left the room set aside for her in days.

There was a quiet knock at the door. Vincent opened it and met a wary, haunted gaze. The closer he came, the harder it was for her to hold back tears. God, why was he wearing that mask? And why was he silent? Wasn’t it enough that she was already teetering on the edge of a breakdown?

He could clearly see her reaction and stopped, searching for a pen and paper. Scrawling a few lines, his trembling fingers pushed the note closer to her.

“You can stay here and never leave this room or calm down and start a new life.”

“I didn’t ask for this new life. Why couldn’t you just turn me into one of your wax dolls?!”

The girl snapped and fell apart completely. Had he upset her that much? Vincent hadn’t meant to make her cry. No, not his muse — his muse was supposed to be happy.

Then he remembered the hair clip. Maybe that would calm her down? He slid the accessory over just like the note, and when she reached for the pearly beads, his fingertips brushed her soft skin.

It was their first physical contact. It hit him like a jolt of electricity pleasant, addictive. The sculptor could’ve stayed at that moment forever. Startled, he backed out of the room like a man possessed, retreating to the familiar refuge of the basement, while she stared at the clip a gift from the woman who had offered her and her husband a ride to another town.

“Sweetheart, you look just like an old movie star in that dress.”

Those had been her last words before they ended up in this town. Somewhere beneath the frame and glue, brownish stains remained. Knowing whose blood it was, the girl broke down again in sobs.

She would never be free again.

[summers-art]

Down The Line

From Kaleidoscopic Absolution (@silverfanzine)

▼▼ Formatted the chatlog fic for tumblr down below ▼▼

Silver:

Sep 14 1:53 AM 

> where are you guys?? > i heard that Sages robots was coming your way so watch out! Not delivered  Sep 14 1:55 AM > shit > ofc she blocked us > i really hope that you and the rest of chaotix found the others > im on my own but ill find my way back to you guys Not delivered  Sep 14 2:12 PM  > this is bad > the armies just keep regrowing and now more and more roads are getting blocked off with all these walls popping up its likea maze!  > i dont think i can fly without being spotted… ill have to get back to the old HQ on foot Not delivered 

Sep 15 8:06 AM  > DONT GO BALC TO THE OLD HQ > HSE HAS TKAEN IT TOO Not delivered  Sep 16 12:01 AM  > WHERE ARE YOU GUYS > i hope you got out of there safe  > if not i > ill keep looking!! Not delivered  Sep 18 11:04 PM > WHY > UUGHHH > JUST > PLEASE be safe Not delivered  Sep 21 3:00 AM > i dont know if we can keep up like this > not that i dont believe in you guys!! > but maybe the only thing i can do right now is try to go back and fix this thing > somehow  Not delivered  Sep 21 4:47 AM > im so sorry > ill try to not mess it up this time  Not delivered   Sep 21 5:28 AM > ill be back Not delivered i promise Delivered

Espio:

Sep 13 10:09 PM > Silver, we have secured the rendezvous point. Team Chaotix and a few other members of the resistance are here. Not delivered Sep 13 10:20 PM > Hm. That's not good. Not delivered Sep 14 2:37 AM > Our position has been compromised.   > I don’t know if she has completely cut the signal or if she can view our messages, any information could be at the risk of getting leaked. Much is uncertain. But safe to say is that we have to move.  > Silver, even if you can't read this right now I'll keep you updated once I know more about our current situation. Stay safe out there, we'll meet up again soon. Not delivered Sep 14 7:58 PM > Silver, we have found a new location. I can’t yet disclose it out of safety.  > There are a few injured but so far our group is stabled. I hope the same can be said for you. Not delivered Sep 15 2:16 PM > Vector is attempting to hack into the old radio tower to see if we can get a new signal started. Here's to hoping.  > Silver, are you there? Not delivered Sep 15 3:24 PM > Nothing…  > If we can find Tails then maybe we have a better chance to get around Sage's hold of the signals.  Not delivered Sep 20 9:01 PM > We may have to move again soon. It's getting harder and harder to keep down the fort. I'll try to buy us some more time but I can't promise it will be for long. > Silver, I hope you are doing okay out there.  > Please, get back safely. Not delivered

Silver:

Sep 21 5:28 AM i promise Delivered

The icons I made for the chat:

[twice-inamillion]

Honeymoon in Hawaii 

Fluff and Smut (Adventure, hiking, surfing, bikini, deep penetration, anal, cream pie, ahegao, sloppy sex, outdoor sex )

Chapter 212

2,953 Words 

(Honeymoon adventures with Jihyo and OC. Jihyo and OC have messy sex.)

After having your morning session, you and Jihyo make your way to the first destination, Stairway to Heaven. 

It has been Jihyo’s dream to hike the trail since she learned about it a few years back. With her wedding in Hawaii, she wanted to make that dream come true. “Babe, I’m so excited. I am looking forward to doing this hike.” 

“Haha, you’ve said that about a hundred times. It’s good that it’s just both of us, or else we wouldn’t make it.” 

“Yeah, I know. You’re the only one that can keep up.” 

“No, I just let you lead,” giving her a smirk. She looks at you, smirking, and slaps your leg, “Hey, that’s mean.”

The two of you arrive at the trail entrance and gather your belongings, a light backpack, each with snacks, water, an emergency kit, and extra clothes. You make your way to the travel and start to hike for a mile before you reach the base of the mountain.

“Wow, that’s really high.” Jihyo smacks you on the arm and says, “Come on. If we don’t hurry, we won’t get some good shots. “Okay! Coming!” as you see Jihyo picking up the pace.

With your GoPro on, the both of you record as you make your way up the slippery trail. “Alright, babe, let’s take a small break,” says Jihyo.

You’re almost two hours in, and the both of you are making good time. The hike up the mountain is about six hours, but you might be able to make it to five at your pace. 

After a small break, you begin to climb again, and without realizing the scenery of the surrounding mountains starts to show from the fog. “Look, you can see much better” Jihyo points at the closest mountain. You peek and see the steep drop, which makes you a bit worried for Jihyo’s safety. “Alight, that’s enough looking,” you grab onto Jihyo’s hand and keep her from getting too close to the edge. “Oppa, don’t tell me you’re scared.” 

“I’m not scared; it’s you I’m worried about. I don’t want you to slip and fall off.” 

“Haha, I’m careful, but I’ll try not to get too close anymore.”

With only the last leg of the trial remaining, you hike up the mountain. The higher you go, the better the view until you reach a wall. You see a long rope and footprints on the wall from the number of other hikers and decide to give it a go. 

“So you want me to go, or do you want to give it a try?”

“Hmm… I want to try,” as Jihyo grabs the rope and wraps it around her arm for support. She places her right foot, then her left, and climbs slowly. Midway through the climb, her foot slips, causing her to yelp suddenly. “Want me to give you a boost?”

“No, I can do it. Let me just get a better footing.” She finds a crack in between the boulder and makes it all the way to the top. “See, I did it. Here!” throwing the rope to you.

You grab the rope, wrap it around your arm, and make it to the top with little effort. 

“Alright, just a bit more, right?” 

“Yeah, excited?”

“Of course, I’ve been waiting to come here for a while; too bad we can’t go the other way.”

“Yeah… no one is allowed, but some still do it. It’s a nice view but not worth the risk.”

“I heard it’s an easier climb.”

“Yeah, I saw a couple of YouTube videos, and it’s way easier.”

 Jihyo and you hike for another thirty minutes until you reach a radio station, signaling the end of the hike. 

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” Jihyo takes in the view. She points towards the ocean, the cars passing through the highway, and the small buildings in the city. 

You can't help but take your phone out and snap a picture of Jihyo’s expression. You’re in awe of how beautiful she is and how your wife looks. She turns around and notices your camera, “Let me do a pose,” and holds a peace sign and squints her eyes. She does other poses and grabs your phone. She snaps multiple pictures of you with the great view as the background until you pull her to you. “Let’s get one of us together.”

Jihyo gets on one of the rails, wraps her arms around your neck, and gives you a kiss on the cheek. She grabs her GoPro and holds the gimbal's end to record her surroundings. Jihyo goes down the stairs to get a better background, making you laugh as you find it cute of her being a blogger. 

After ending your photo session, Jihyo, you sit and admire the view. It’s completely silent; no words are needed to express your feelings. You’ve made an excellent decision to marry your best friend and the mother of your child. You look at her, staring at the blue ocean, and pull her in for a kiss. 

The climb down is much easier, and it takes only an hour. Once you arrive at your car, the both of you are a complete mess, boots and legs full of mud. You grab a jug of water, wash each other’s legs, and change into sandals and new shorts. Jihyo takes off her top and tosses it in the back of the car, leaving her with a sports bra. “Come, babe, take that shirt off. I want to see your abs.” 

You arrive back at the house and take a quick shower before having brunch. The both of you sit on the back patio and enjoy the view of the ocean in front of the house. While Jihyo cleans up, you head to the backyard and set up the large hammock between two trees. 

“Want to take a small nap?”

“But we just ate.”

“Ahh, don’t worry about the small details. Come on, join me.” you grab her hand.

“Okay,” and climbs into the hanging hammock. 

“What do you think? Comfortable, right?”

“Yeah, not too tight. I like it.” 

“Maybe we should have one back home.”

Jihyo shoves her face into your chest and slowly drifts away after a tiring morning. You watch as Jihyo falls asleep and caress her hair before falling asleep as well. 

Three hours later, you wake up from your nap and notice Jihyo gone. You search around and see a small sitting by the shore. 

“Hey, you left. What’s up?”

“Woke up earlier than you and didn’t want to wake you up. You look cute when you sleep.” You can’t hide your embarrassment from Jihyo and pick her up, placing her on your shoulder. 

“Wait! Where are you taking me?”

“You said you wanted to have fun, right?”

“Yeah, but what are we doing?”

“We’re going surfing. There’s a pair of boards in the back.” 

“Really? We’re going to surf?”

“Yeah, I asked Nayeon to pack your swimming suit before we left.” 

“Yay!”

With the two of you in your swimsuits and board in hand, you head to the water. Jihyo is the first one to run into the water, “Come on, slowpoke!” 

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

Sitting on the board, you listen to Jihyo’s plan as you float in open waters. The first wave comes, and you watch her try to ride the wave but falls. She swims back to where you are and tries again, this time staying longer on the board. Time after time, she comes back with lots of energy and tells you her mistake and how she is going to do better. She gives you a couple of pointers before you head out to catch a wave. 

After a couple of times, you come back completely wet from falling so much. “Haha, finally something I’m better at.” She mocks you and comforts you on trying your best after getting her fill. 

“Okay, let’s try again. I think I can do it better this time.”

“Hmm? Are you challenging me, Oppa?” 

“I guess I am.” 

“Okay, loser does whatever the winner wants.”

You hesitate for a bit and see Jihyo’s smirk tease you. “That’s a bet,” and the both of you shake hands. 

You and Jihyo spend two hours surfing but also take a few breaks here and there. It’s sunset, and you two are enjoying the sun setting down behind the ocean. 

With your boards side by side, you two hold hands. “We’re finally husband and wife. I can’t believe it. It’s finally hitting me.”

“Haha, it hit me too when I saw you walking down the aisle; you looked beautiful. I think I’m the happiest man in the world right now.”

She can’t help but laugh at your comment, “Okay, okay, we get it. You don’t have to get all sentimental here.”

Eventually, you both return to shore and head towards the small outdoor shower to clean your board and rinse yourself. Jihyo removes her swimsuit as she tries to get the sand off, revealing her bikini. You do the same but can’t and stare at her tanned body.

Jihyo then takes off her top, which reveals her perfect breast, “Fuck…” She doesn’t notice you coming up behind her until she feels your lips on the back of her nape. “Babe, that tickles,” as she squirms around. You slowly move your hands on her ass, aim for the piece of string holding her bikini, and pull on it. Unaware that her bottom is undone because of your kissing, you pull down your shorts and give Jihyo a nice smack on the ass. 

“Ahh…” 

You pretend to lose your balance and press your body against hers. She places her hands on the wall to keep herself from falling, “You’re heavy, babe. Get off.” With your semi-hard cock in hand, you slowly align yourself to Jihyo’s entrance. She doesn’t notice what you are about to do since you keep her distracted by kissing her nape. When she does feel your hot cock’s head poking at the entrance of her slit, she lifts her butt. 

With her permission, you grab onto her waist and penetrate her cunt. You don’t feel much resistance since you warmed her up a bit with all the kissing and reached her deepest parts in no time. “Mmhh… ahh fuck!” You give her little time for adjustment and begin to thrust at a fast pace. Jihyo immediately starts to moan loudly since it is just the both of you around, “Ahh… yes! That feels so good! Fuck… you’re so deep inside my pussy!” 

Knowing she is enjoying it, you increase the pace and press her against the shower wall. You pull most of your cock out and immediately shove it back inside, causing Jihyo to grunt. “Omg! Your cock is hitting my womb! Keep fucking me just like that,” as she moves her right hand to her cunt and starts to masturbate. She rubs her lips at a rapid pace, aiming for her orgasm. It doesn’t take long for her to reach it, and she is the first to cum. Her legs shake as she orgasms and sprays the floor with her love juice. 

You don’t slow down or stop fucking her as she rides her orgasm but instead increase the pace. This makes all her senses go into overdrive, and she loses her balance in the process. After her orgasm dissipates, you pull out your cock and see her get away from the wall and move to the other side of the shower to get a hold on something firm to keep herself from falling, but you have other plans. 

You can’t but want to get back at her from earlier today. So grab Jihyo’s hand and say, “babe, one more, please,” giving her a puppy dog eyes. She looks at you exhausted but nods and places her hands against the shower window. She positions herself and spreads her legs to give you better access to her mess of a cunt. You have other plans, though, and get your cock ready. “Remember our promise, right? The loser does whatever the winner wants.” It takes her a bit to get her thoughts together, but when she does, it's too late. You align yourself to her entrance and press the tip against it. It is then when she realizes what you’re about to do, “Wait… babe… that’s the wrong…” doesn’t finish her sentence as she feels the tip of your cock against her puckerhole. 

You push your cock in slowly, and you’re met with some resistance as her walls try to push you back out. “Relax, babe. Just a bit more.” Jihyo turns around and sees your puppy dog eyes, and accepts your cock inside her ass. After that, her walls loosen, which makes it a bit easier for your cock. You press forward and insert more of your cock inside of Jihyo’s ass. 

Jihyo bites her lips as she feels her ass being split wide open by your cock. She’s always had a harder time with anal and has only done it less than a handful of times, and every time is the same. She would rather keep going a few more rounds with her cunt and remembers the number of times you have asked her for anal. She wants to keep her promise, accepts the temporary pain, and relaxes her body. 

With your right hand on your cock and the left on Jihyo’s waist, you penetrate Jihyo’s tight ass. You can feel Jihyo’s body relaxing, which allows you to shove more of your cock inside of it. Jihyo moans and grunts aloud as she takes an inch at a time, “Fuck! Your cock is too big! It’s going to destroy my ass, fuck!” 

Not wanting to make her suffer more than she has to, you decide to get it over in one go. You press her against the wall once more, grab onto her waist, and give it one final thrust. Jihyo opens her eyes wide open when she feels your whole length inside her ass in one go. Her walls tighten even more around your cock, and give her a chance to adjust to your length. Jihyo can feel the hottest of your throbbing cock inside of her. “Fuck… you’re so tight,” as you try to move. After getting her approval, you begin to thrust, increasing the pace little by little. It goes from a sharp pain to slight pleasure as she feels her insides getting rearranged. 

You place your hand against her lower lips and finger her cunt to make it easier. This helps a little bit and makes it more pleasurable for her. You then pick up the pace and give a couple of hard thrusts, and can feel your cock from the other side. You feel the bulge of your cock inside her ass with every thrust. It turns you on to see her bulging belly every time you press your cock against it. 

Little by little, Jihyo gets used to your cock inside of her puckerhole and begins to enjoy it. She can't help but touch the bulge in her belly every time it pokes out and finds it kind of hot. “Ahh… ba babe… you really want to mess me up like chaeyoung, huh.”

“Yes, I want your ass to give itself to me. I want to teach every inch of your body that it belongs to me,” and decide to pick her up. Jihyo is surprised and gasps when she’s placed in a reverse stand-and-carry position.

Now the both of you can see your cock creating a big bulge in her belly as if she’s pregnant once more. “Fuck… you're reaching all the way to my deepest part!” You can feel your cock throbbing and begin to fuck her ass while being carried. 

Jihyo moans as she’s carried in the air and enjoys getting railed in the ass. Every time your tip reaches the deepest part, it feels like ecstasy. Little by little, she gives in to the pleasure until she is a complete mess. She doesn’t realize her mind is fading away, and her body is riding on pure ecstasy. 

You give it a couple of thrusts before your orgasm reaches its peak. You see Jihyo’s face ruined by pleasure and say, “Babe, I’m about to cum” but there is no response, just random mumbling, indecipherable words. You ask, “Want me to cum inside?” She tries to come up with the words but can’t and just nods. “Okay, if you really want me to cum, then hold the peace sign.” 

Jihyo, with her remaining consciousness, holds the peace sign as you face her towards the mirror by the corner of the shower. You lift her up, only leave a head of your cock, wait a few seconds and drop her whole weight on your cock. Jihyo’s body immediately reacts, making her squirt all over the mirror as you drown her ass with your biggest load. The expression on her face is priceless as she does a messy ahegao expression while holding the peace signs. Her body loses all its energy and becomes limp and letting go of your cock, only leaving a gaping hole. 

After the messy session, you return to your room and let her rest. She cleans herself with your assistance by taking a proper shower before going to bed. Tomorrow, you both will wake up sore from being busy the whole day, Jihyo especially. 

[moghedien]

listen I am also guilty of this with certain things and am trying to break myself of this mindset, but ignorance is never a flex

like it isn't necessarily shameful either, but professing your unawareness of the latest pop songs on the radio or trashy movies or internet drama or whatever it may be in a tone that tries to suggest you're somehow superior because you don't know something....you're literally bragging about being ignorant

I don't even care what it is. you can start talking to me about the fucking Real Housewives of whatever city and I can tell you that I know nothing about it without 1) making the fact that I know nothing a virtue and 2) signalling that you're somehow inferior for knowing about it and talking about it. you can express your ignorance and even your disinterest without making it a moral high ground.

like I don't care what the topic. I have this issue personally with Harry Potter because I've never consumed any of the books or movies or related media and I also think its unambiguously bad to be currently interacting with that series in the year 2025. I have this ego issue where I do sometimes feel a little moral about never having interacted with that series and making a connection with it, despite my awareness that its literally just dumb luck that I never got into it as a kid. I'm not morally superior than someone who read it as a kid, knows everything about the series, and then gave it up as an adult because of the author's beliefs. My ignorance of the series doesn't make me better than the person who liked it and gave it up. In fact, they're making more a principled stance than me. They know everything about it and loved it and still gave it up. I have nothing to lose in that regard. And yet I still sometimes find myself making snide comments bragging about my ignorance of it. I don't think its bad that I'm ignorant of the series, but I also need to wrap it around my head that it doesn't make me inherently good either. My ignorance just means I did nothing in order to be moral while other people had to make actual decisions.

And that is just one kind of extreme example but ignorance should never be considered a moral thing. In a time when people are being willfully ignorant about politics in order to avoid having to account for their support of terrible people and policies, and in a time where politicians and corporations are repeatedly attacking people's abilities to be educated and punishing teenagers with crippling debt for life because they choose to learn, I don't care what the topic is. Ignorance should never be something you brag about or feel morally superior for. You don't have to learn everything about every topic, but you aren't better because you don't know who's playing at Coachella or what is popular on booktok or what the various reality tv drama is.

You aren't a good person because you're not engaging in the current pop culture, even if the culture is kinda trashy and gross and stupid. If you think it makes you better, you're literally just an asshole with a superiority complex.

[thevoidscreams]

The drive was quiet mostly, but the air in the car was anything but. It was all the excitement of newness and fresh starts. So many unspoken questions raced in your mind as the steady rumble of tires on paved road competed with the sound of the radio turned way down so as not to distract you during your excitement.

Your eyes flicked down quickly to the Astartes in the passenger seat and then back to the road. He wasn't big, only a foot tall, but he was already filling your heart with a strange warmth. You imagined how nice it would be to not be alone in your house and to have a roommate/new family member living with you.

The adoption had been as seemless as one could hope. The fit had been so good that your SMSS worker had expressed delight in the prospect of the adoption being finalized. The marathon of interviews hadn't deterred you at all. In fact, you'd grown more eager with each meeting.

"So... Titus. Are you excited to be coming home with me?"

The ultra marine looked up in amusement. "I do not know if I would say that I am excited. But there is a certain gladness to being freed from that facility. The enrichment left something to be desired."

You chuckled at his response. "Well, I've left your room mostly empty, I figured we could decorate it to your liking." The quiet, click click of the turn signal was all the reply you got as he nodded without comment and watched the world pass by outside.

"Are you hungry?" The question made him turn his head and he nodded. "I could eat." "great, do you wanna stop somewhere or make a meal back at the house?" You asked, smile soft.

"Home is fine, I would like to get settled in."

The way your heart fluttered at his use of home did not go unnoticed apparently and he gave you a smile of his own. "It will be my home, will it not?" "Yes, of course, I just wasn't expecting you to refer to it as that so quickly."

"It will be good to have a proper home again."

"Well I look forward to welcoming you to it as such." The rest of the drive was quiet after that and he had settled in well. You sighed and stretched, the memory fading as the form in front of you stopped, now taller than your chin when standing, Titus offered a hut mug of tea. "Shall we continue the movie. I am eager to see humanity cast down the foul xenos insects." Taking the mug you laughed. "Enjoying it then?"

"Indeed." The movie picked back up as you settled in to continue enjoying Starship Troopers with your much taller astartes. Wondering if soon you'd need to pick up a new couch to accommodate the two of you.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Thirteen - Battlefields

Part Twelve

———

The Voyager Satellite was sent into space September 5th, 1977. Almost exactly seven years before the Quintessons attacked Earth. Initially people were ready to blame the simple gold disk aboard and the trinkets on the invasion, but the connection to the little spacecraft was and still is there.

Currently the little satellite is around fifteen billion miles from Earth, with a one direction signal distance of twenty-two and a half hours. Forty-five hours in total for simple communication.

Cybertron and the surrounding planets, asteroids, and other surfaces were around thirty light years from Earth, which was estimated to be 180 trillion miles. Radio waves from that distance would take a great deal longer than forty-five hours. A relay satellite would need recalibrations constantly from that distance, radio waves would still travel that distance over time but certainly faster than it would without the relay.

It rested just at the edge of Cybertronian space, sending a near constant stream of updated information in the general direction of Earth. Traveling through space, alone.

—

The surface was being blown apart by stray blaster fire and crashing ships, Hound was pinned behind a rock and swearing as he reactivated his comm, “Breakdown, I need that cover fire, now!” He was pinned, not unless he wanted to take more damage to the suit, which Hound would prefer to avoid as much as possible. Worrying the Cybertronian’s usually got his ass stuck on a shuttle back to base camp for several cycles, “In a moment, I am covering the Seekers!” Swearing, Hound peaks his head over the rock before spotting a more tactical spot, his visual feeds locking in on it. Taking a breath and breaking down his gun, shoving the extended barrel back to its storage position he throws himself over the rock, “Incoming!” He crashed to the ground and scrambled back to the slightly better bit of cover, wiping bits of blasted metal from his arm as his chest heaved.

Mirage was there, sniper rifle in hand and taking shots with better marksmanship than Hound has even had while in the military, the white and blue mech looked over, smiled awkwardly before returning to his own part of the fight. Turning off his comm for a moment, Hound smacks the back of his head against the rock, “Mirage, why did it have to be Mirage? Why couldn’t I have found cover with Jazz or fragging Megatron.” Mirage and Hound had run out of things to talk about after two weeks of knowing each other. Now just around six months down the line, it was out right awkward whenever the two of them were stuck anywhere close together. People spoke behind their hands and would giggle whenever they had to work together.

That was one thing, Hound certainly would never be able to deny. Him and Mirage worked together just as well as Jazz and Prowl, maybe even better if he said so himself.

Yet, they hardly spoke, mainly according to the general gossip, because Mirage felt too awkward to ask about his life before the fight and Hound certainly didn’t want to talk about it anyway. Reactivating his comm, Hound glances over, “How’s it looking out there?” Mirage was starting through his scope, “No worse than the usual for this territory. You’ll have an opening once the Seekers drop the bombs.” He signed out evenly and took another shot, smiling. Hound took a breath, setting his gun briefly in his lap to adjust his visor, “Alright, you going to cover me?” “Always.” Mirage smiled for a second but froze and his face turned a soft shade of pink before he cleared his throat, “I’ve got your back.” Hound smiled a bit, “Thanks.” Taking another breath he took up his gun and steadied himself, “Going over.” Sparing Mirage the briefest of looks, he went over the top of the cover as the Seekers dropped their bombs, heading in a line towards the crashed ship and Hound took on the first Quintesson he saw head on, grabbing at it with the practiced ease of nearly five hundred successful missions now.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were across the battlefield, cleaving a Quintesson in half together, getting splattered with gore. Both were laughing like the maniacs they were. Swinging back together, they moved in synch, both breathing at the same time and adjusting slightly, “You feeling good Sides?” “Yeah, you Sunny?” “Definitely.” Then both turned lightly as blaster fire went just barely over their head, spotting the second sniper off in the distance. Sunstreaker lightly salutes in his direction before turning and raising his new blaster, the small tank on it was reinforced to not explode if hit, shooting an approaching Quint in its face while Sideswipe ran up to its side. Cause and effect, distraction. Within the instant, Sunstreaker was on the other side and they hit it together.

Breakdown was laying covering fire near where the Seekers were taking off, preventing the Quintessons from getting any closer, he was the most active on comms; “Their coming in from the west, around a few hundred meters from the initial crash site.” His visual feed zoomed in easily, checking the area, while his cannon continued to blow apart the land between the enemy and landed seekers, “We’ve got injured north of my position that I’ll bring to you as soon as it’s clear.” “Copy Breakdown, moving twins towards incoming on the west side and dispatching medic to the line closest to your position.” Prowl’s voice was calm, clearly adjusting the plan and stats for the fight overall. Taking a breath, Breakdown adjusts his stance a bit to up the charge for his cannon, just at the corner of his visual feed he could see the familiar red of the medic come speeding his way.

The sky lit up with gunfire from the seekers, turning the dark evening into day briefly.

Jazz was on the other side of the runway, tearing apart Quintessons like shredding paper. Though they couldn’t see it, everyone knew he was smiling behind that visor, “Alright, clear for next launch.” He was for the moment tasked with keeping the runway clear, but kept looking to other parts of the battle, “Thank you for remaining where you’re supposed to Jazz.” Prowl’s voice was biting, “I haven’t moved!” Several people chuckled over comms, “No, but you’re certainly thinking about it.” “That’s hardly fair.” With a quick movement, he pulls his gun and shoots an approaching Quintesson, “I am simply saying that for the moment you are following the plan,” “Stop arguing like a married couple over comms.” Hound’s voice was almost painfully loud for them both, the comm line erupted with laughter. Some things would always translate.

In the distance the few cybertronian’s on the battlefield were huddled together in a typical attack maneuver, draw the enemies attention for the strange mechanicals to handle. It was gruesome and heartbreaking, but necessary for all their survival. Only a handful of cybertronian’s were out solo on the field, not counting the seekers in the air, but only those who have taken down several Quintessons on their own were able to be out fighting with the strange mechanicals.

—

Base camp was a simple handful of light construction buildings, several spaces with seating surrounding heaters and the quote unquote medical tent. A few mecha would assemble it while the initial battle started, it usually being far enough back that it wouldn’t be affected by the fight. There was a place for the cybertronians to get fuel and the general command center, it was just a typical base camp for any military based altercation.

The humans were sitting around one of the heaters, laughing and covered nearly helm to ped in gore, truthfully it made several mecha uneasy.

Sunstreaker was lightly picking at his hands, trying to get the worst of it out of the joints while Jazz was laughing, shaking out an arm which was covered in effectively slime, “Yeah, so when that big one started to come for the runway, what else was I supposed to do?” He chuckles lightly, Hound shakes his head, “Stuck to orders and let the seekers blow it up from the sky maybe.” “Yeah Jazz, I think you’re going to be in the dog house tonight.” Everyone briefly paused as the translator popped up with it’s typical error words and it sent Jazz, Sunstreaker, and Hound back into fits of roaring laughter. Sideswipe flicked some of the gore covering his hands at Sunstreaker’s visor, “Hey!” He was quick in his revenge, splattering Sideswipe with some from his chest, clearing off the number emblazoned there.

“I think you should be glad that Prowl is back in Iacon,” Hound lightly scratches at his jaw, frowning at the gore caked to his plating a bit, “Otherwise the guy would have your head.” Jazz, with his camera still on, rolled his eyes in the corner of their visual feeds, “Oh please, he knows that when shit is hitting the fan I’m going to do what I do best.” The twins were now rolling around on the ground, shoving at each other’s visors and had turned off their translators. Sighing deeply, Hound sits back and pulls a polishing cloth he’d gotten from medical from his chute compartment to start cleaning up. Jazz pulls one himself, starting to wipe down his arms, “Also says the guy who ended up on the wrong side of the field, why were you over near Mirage in the first place?” Hound flicks his own gore at Jazz, scowling a bit, “Mirage’s position was moved this morning, just before we landed.” The hum from Jazz was clearly not convinced, the twins continued to roll around on the ground shoving at each other.

Over near the medical tent, Breakdown was helping one of the injured under Knockout’s orders. He wasn’t sure how he constantly got roped into this, the twins thought it was funny and Hound suggested it was based on his suits weight class though he wasn’t convinced. The medic was too nice to him, when compared with everyone else and it was starting to become awkward. Having to turn down assistance whenever he dealt with torn lines or ripped cable, glancing back towards the group he sighs and helps the mech to the bed, “There you are.” “Well, thank you handsome.” A familiar voice crooned and Breakdown lowered his head awkwardly, “Um, you’re welcome Knockout.” Knockout came over and started to tend to the injured mech, Breakdown quickly stepping back. It was generally kept a secret, how toxic energon was to the humans, though many mecha had clocked how they didn’t eat any, “You should stay and have your own shoulder tended to.” The typical worry was there and Breakdown clears his throat, “I am fine Knockout, thank you. I should be going.” He didn’t spare a glance in his retreat, even as Knockout called after him for a moment, swearing at the man’s back.

Most mecha worried for their odd mechanical counterparts, the new frontliners, as they took a lot more damage than a normal mech could stand. Some worried more than others of course, but they generally tried to keep that to themselves.

Hound was still trying to clean his arm as Breakdown sat next to him, sighing deeply, “I think we worry the medic.” Nodding a bit, he doesn’t even look up, “We take a lot of damage and don’t fuel like they do, of course we're going to worry the guy.” Breakdown rests his chin against one hand, the one of them least covered in gore though the connection for his cannon was charred and had a few sparking wires, Hound glances over for a moment before tilting his head, “We have to reinforce that again?” Barely sparing it a glance, Breakdown shrugs, “If they keep upgrading it, then yes.” Jazz looks over and whistles, “Yeah, they’ll think that is painful.”

The ground shook lightly as a very imposing figure approached, the twins glanced up from their fight and the five of them shared a look, “Hound, I would appreciate a word with you and your humans.” Technically, the term human didn’t translate but most of the mecha understood that it was the name of their species, Hound worried it would reveal their organic nature but kept that worry along with a million others to himself, “Yes sir.” He moves to stand but Megatron waves it off, moving and taking one of the twins' seats as they were sitting on the ground, “I hope… that you are doing well.” Hound stared for a minute, not really sure what to say and glanced towards Jazz before looking back, “We’re fine, Sir.” He clears his throat a bit, “Uh, is that all or do you have specific concerns?” Hound’s head tilted lightly, worrying at his lip a bit, “If this has something to do with the minor injuries, we will tend to them.” Jazz nods a bit, “Yes sir, we’re fine.” Megatron was staring at them, then clears his throat, “And I fear my concerns might be more psychological. I know it can be difficult to be away from home and you all have thrown yourselves into this fight.” Hound was almost relieved, nodding a bit, “Yes sir, of course we miss home but no more than usual. As for the fighting, you understand our stance on that.” Jazz almost cringed.

Megatron’s face said enough, “Yes, I know your stance on that subject. I will continue to have my concerns.” Sunstreaker waves a hand, “Megatron, sir, if we didn’t want to be in this fight we wouldn’t be here nor have signed up for the testing in the first place.” He moves around and brings himself up next to Jazz, “We love kicking Quintesson butt.” Sideswipe nodded, “Yeah, it’s not like any of us could have done anything else. This or time, so.” He shrugs a bit, Megatron was staring at him now, “Time? I don’t believe that translated correctly.” Hound tried not to face palm, nodding a bit, “Their talking about jail or prison, doing something illegal and it’s punishment.” It took a long moment before Megatron gave a reaction to anything, “So it was fight or go to the stockade.” Hound paused, “Well,” “Yeah, we were doing some dumb stuff before we became useful.” Hound leveled Sunstreaker with a look before turning back to Megatron, “Not all of us were facing jail time before we signed up.” “Oh?” Megatron leaned forward some, trying to keep a neutral expression, “Breakdown and I were in the military and we all were tested for compatibility.” Breakdown nodded, “It’s easy to feed your family when you have a government job, it was going to be this or deal with the KGB.” Jazz nearly fell off his seat, “That’s not funny Breakdown!” Breakdown just shrugged.”

Megatron was still staring intently, “That did not translate well either, it was a series of glyphs.” Jazz clears his throat painfully and rubs at his neck, “So uh, that old story of yours of what used to be the DJD? That but for a section of our planet and bigger, a lot bigger.” Breakdown nods slowly, “It no longer exists now, but I was still conscripted.” Hound had his face in his hand, mumbling quietly before looking up, “My father was in the military, it was the life that I knew. We all have our reasons for getting tested, right Jazz?” Jazz nods a bit, “Mine are a lot less bad, compared to jail, mandatory military service, and aging out of your placement. I was just approached by the boss after a fight because of my looks.” Megatron looked at Jazz, “What was your job before this Jazz?” With a bit of a chuckle, Jazz shrugged some, “I had a bunch but I wanted to be a DJ before the Quints attacked.” Sideswipe nodded, grinning, “That would have been so cool!” Jazz grins, “Thank you.” Hound was watching Megatron and watching how his temperature was rising.

It only took another second or two before Megatron was up and storming off, the twins staring after the large mech, “What’s gotten into him?” Jazz watched and sighed, “Man, I hate having to talk to Optimus after this stuff.” Hound shifted forward, “Does this have anything to do with the cost of living conversation?” Jazz leveled him with a glare, “Just a bit, you know. Revolutionary for the oppressed thinks our planet is horrible.” Sunstreaker shrugs a bit, Sideswipe nods a bit, “I mean, is he really wrong?” Hound smacked him upside the head, rolling his eyes, “This isn’t funny.” Sideswipe rubbed at his head while several mecha started to finally make their way over to them now that Megatron had left.

—

Megatron was quick, storming into command and sending Red Alert out to contact Optimus, grumbling loudly as he did so. Optimus answered on the first ring, “Megatron, how is the front?” He stared for a long moment, “I wish for the humans to go back through evaluations.” Optimus’s servos came up rubbed at his faceplates, “They go through them the same as everyone else, they won’t go through another for a half a stellar cycle.” Megatron growled and Optimus looked at him sympathetically, “They are who they are, at some point they will understand.” His helm lowered and Megatron sighed deeply, closing his optics, “They deserve better.” “Of course they do, but they are saving us.” It hung in the air, the reality of their situation.

In the distance, several mecha were sat around a heater, laughing with other mecha, and desperately avoiding the others' food. They would have to eat soon and sleep, but for now there was a lull in the fight and a moment for peace. Jazz was on comm with Prowl, getting his ear chewed off. Hound was listening to Mirage, nodding slowly in confusion. The twins were talking with a few mecha who they’d become fast friends with, Sunstreaker had Bluestreak sat incredibly close to him. Breakdown was speaking with Mirage, trying to help Hound out of the awkward situation.

A message on the relay satellite, still several years from its destination.

———

A/N

Wow, alright. This was supposed to be done and out yesterday, that didn’t happen cause I was at the hospital for like four hours. Just basic medical stuff, I have run of the mill kinda stuff and have to go in every few months. Anyways, I don’t know how I feel about this part, I want to do some more in depth stuff next part but I wanted to get the initial time skip out of the way.

I promise more stuff is coming, better conversations, etc.

The others are having a harder time than Jazz adjusting, I hope that’s coming across in this but IDK. They very much stick to themselves whenever they can, hence why the others come to them typically. And there will be more about the alien food in the next part as well.

I am so glad you all seem to be enjoying this. I’m loving getting to write like I am.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU!

[rockermazy]

Yay - I get to share my love for tidbit Hazbin lore while sharing knowledge that makes me look like a millennial boomer XD Ahem... Alastor, our favorite overlord, for all intents and purposes, is a fucking elemental. His abilities are absolutely terrifying from a scientific standpoint. Okay, so remember how during the "Stayed Gone" number, Vox starts glitching out and "loses his signal" - then the Pride ring subsequently has a blackout? That is entirely Alastor's (or whatever-the-fuck-is-benefactoring-him's) doing. A powerful enough radio signal can do that. No horseshoe magnet required. IRL real shiz. Despite being digital enough to render a bluescreen while compromised, Vox might still have older hardware from his former days as a rabbit-eared, extra-thick thick cathode-ray tube.

And Alastor is our radio demon. Keep this in mind. IRL, once upon a time during the 1940s - before digital television - there was no "Channel 1". That's because in the US, a very long time ago, both radio and TV shared the band that we call "Channel One":

"Until 1948, Land Mobile Radio and television broadcasters shared the same frequencies, which caused interference. This shared allocation was eventually found to be unworkable, so the FCC reallocated the Channel 1 frequencies for public safety and land mobile use and assigned TV channels 2–13 exclusively to broadcasters. Aside from the shared frequency issue, this part of the VHF band was (and to some extent still is) prone to higher levels of radio-frequency interference (RFI) than even Channel 2 (System M)." (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Channel_1_(North_American_TV))

Then for a short stint, Channel One was exclusively reserved for radio:

Channel 1 was allocated at 44–50 MHz between 1937 and 1940. Visual and aural carrier frequencies within the channel fluctuated with changes in overall TV broadcast standards prior to the establishment of permanent standards by the National Television Systems Committee. In 1940, the FCC reassigned 42–50 MHz to the FM broadcast band. Television's channel 1 frequency range was moved to 50–56 MHz. Experimental television stations in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles were affected. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Channel_1_(North_American_TV))

Every local TV channel and radio station has a frequency range on the electromagnetic spectrum. For those who still listen to radio on non-internet-reliant radios devices, those funny little numbers next to a station's name are a ballpark number for the frequency the station broadcasts in the Hertz unit. A Hertz (Hz) is one wave per second. A KiloHertz (KHz) is 1,000 waves per second. A GigaHertz (GHz) is 1 billion waves per second. Modern AM radio stations are 535-1605 kHz Modern FM radio stations are 88-108 MHz   TV VHF Channels 2 thru 13 are 54-216 MHz TV UHF Channels 14 thru 36 are 470-608 MHz And no, that's not a discrepancy between VHF and FM radio: the frequencies designated for FM radio are nestled right in there with TV ones - between Channels 6 and 7.

(chart from http://hyperphysics.phy-astr.gsu.edu/hbase/Audio/radio.html) Even today, radio and TV are slightly shuffled in there in regards to designated frequencies. This implies that depending on Alastor's band of preference, if Vox still has some of his older hardware, Vox could, in his sleep, theoretically be able to hear Alastor's broadcasts of screaming victims without a physical radio nearby. IRL in fact, in older televisions where a knob is used to change channels, much of the static you'd hear in-between channels is actually background radiation from deep space - along with any radio interference from man-made sources nearby. No wonder Vox is obsessed with Alastor. Alastor can torment him in an in-between realm-channel daily, like Freddy Kruger.

Yet, if radio signals were only a Vox problem, why did nearly every light and electronic device go out in the Pride except the emergency lights at the Heaven embassy?

It might depend on how we define the word "radio". Is it radio, as in "those radio stations we can listen to without the internet"? Maybe radio, as in "any frequency utilized in modern communications, including TV and Radio"? Or is it radio, as in "almost any signal on the electromagnetic spectrum with a frequency lower than friggin' heat?" People, below is an IRL over-simplified chart of the electromagnetic spectrum and its usages by human.

When radio is defined as a specific part of the electromagnetic spectrum, it is basically any frequency below infrared. *** Cellphone service and WiFi use radio signals within this range. Most cellular services are between 600 MHz and 39 GHz WiFi routers are about 2.4-5 GHz (6 GHz in newer models)  That's where the "G" in "4G" and "5G" come from - the "G" stands for "Gigahertz" Radio, local television, cellphone service, WiFi, and basically any point in the internet that isn't linked by a landline - these are all safely within the part of the electromagnetic spectrum that the scientists would call "radio". If Hell's technology is supposed to mirror the real world, then most electronic devices need radio frequencies in order to communicate. The VVV's empire is truly fucked, should Alastor so choose. The only plot hole in this explanation I see is why all the lights went out. These devices don't run on radio - they communicate using it. My best-educated guess is that the on/off switch for Hell's power grid is on an open network and at least part of it wireless. Or maybe Alastor's radio attack works like a general EMP and he can just break stuff by "brute force". (I am not an expert on these sorts of things like telecommunication... or network security... or physics.... I politely ask that someone in the comments, please enlighten me U.U ) ------------------------------------- Also, notice that Alastor's Tower, Cannibal Town and the Heaven Embassy were the only regions with lights on during the blackout.

is that...?

Cannibal Town?

If this is, in fact, Cannibal Town, then my only guess is that the Cannibals are so hipster, many of them only light their homes and businesses with candlelight and leviathan whale oil. Neither candlelight nor oil-burning rely on wifi. Only some of their region's light was lost in the blackout. They might use some electricity (as many during the Victorian era did, which Cannibal Town seems to be inspired by), but they don't fully rely upon electricity. This suggests that Alastors friendship with Rosie might be less of an organic friendship and more like a strategically slick alliance. Rosie's territory is one part of Pride that Alastor can't completely shut down (other than the Embassy). But, who knows?

Alastor's derision of modern tech now seems to have more merit than just being "hipster", or avoiding leaving a digital footprint that Vox can manipulate, (the latter of which I once head-canoned before this epiphany). Alastor can literally just shut most of Hell's tech down. This might also suggest why Alastor is homies with Zestial - another known old-timey prick.

Alastor makes alliances with demons he can't easily overpower with his abilities. This might seem self-contradictory to Alastor's seeming over-confidence in teasing Lucifer - until you realize he did this only after he learned angels could be killed during the Overlords' meeting. (And yes, I know what I wrote about Alastor a couple of tumbl notes back with the "popsicle" evaluation. I do not consider flip-flopping a moral issue if done so by epiphany. That note stays, because it's funny XD ) ----------------------- Another theory! Ok, so this theory isn't entirely my own-own, I'm just building off of it based on what I've just said (mostly Roo stuff). So IRL, scientists decided to take an image of the observable universe in the microwave range. Microwave energy is in the upper ends of radio, but just below infrared in frequency. What they found was cosmic background radiation - a lot of energy that isn't coming from the stars themselves.

(Image source: https://www.space.com/33892-cosmic-microwave-background.html) Some scientists theorize this is because this particular energy is left over from the formation of the universe. So about Roo:

In the first non-pilot episode, The Story of Hell, as read by Charlie, states that the angels of pure light "worshipped good and shielded all from evil." During this line, imagery of two faces are shown before the angels: one face of light and another face of twisted red and black.

Subsequent lines and imagery in the episode suggest that this "evil" existed before Lucifer fell or Eve allowed this evil to enter the world - even before the Earth was created. Some Tumblrs who have been in this fandom longer than I have may know of Roo, a character that appears in some of VivziePop's older works within the Hazbin/Hellaverse. Some of Roo's monikers include "The Root of All Evil" and the "Tree of Knowledge". I'm wondering if in the Hellaverse, the cosmic background radiation of the universe is a manifestation of Roo when she isn't bound to a tree. Could Alastor's radio powers come Roo, the background "dark" energy of the universe's birth? Did Alastor bite the apple the second third time for mankind? XD

------------------------------------------------- While researching for this paper, I learned that microwave ovens and 2G cell phones operate within the same frequencies at around 2 GHz. Apparently, the only reason cell phones don't cook our brains is because the wattage is too low. (I dunno what wattage means. I'm not a scientist.) But now, Alastors singing lines in S1E8 had me thinking: "The constraints of my deal surely have a back door  Once I figure out how to unclip my wings,  guess who will be pulling all the strings" Knowing what Alastor is capable of with radio, this has me wondering if Alastor's radio powers are coming from one source, all while be is being chained by another entity entirely. Someone might have gone out of their way to get Alastor into a contract - if only to keep him from literally baking the universe for his viewing pleasure... on a rotating glass plate.

Being able to cook a soul in microwaves would require that they be at least partially made of water, however. Buuuut... I guess if there are working ACs in Hell, I really shouldn't read too much into it XD -------------

Do you think the mad scientists from Helluva Boss, Lyle Lipton and Loopty Goopty, ever chat over coffee about the abilities of the overlords based on casual observation?

One day, Alastor's name comes up... ...and after four minutes of discussing facts over coffee, they're both just like "Nope"?

XD {END} *** Note: Googling "Electromagnetic Spectrum charts" will yield different results. Some charts will have different designations frequencies lower than radio, like Extremely Low Frequencies (ELF). I do not know whether this difference is a reflection of a newer categorization, or if most charts online are made for laymen such as myself. Most charts I saw years ago only designated "radio" as "everything below microwave". I want to assume that the "only radio below microwave" categorization went into the writer's designing of Alastor's character simply because such charts are more common (while also making for a more interesting power scaling).

______________ Disclaimer: I am composed of chauffeur knowledge. I know nearly nothing about communication science little about radiation stuff. I took an astronomy elective in college once, so I sorta knew where to look when it came to frequency stuff. I have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about. I know that I confused frequency and wavelength somewhere. Please, #sciencesideoftumblr feel free to correct me. ----------------- TLDR: Most tech IRL uses radio waves to communicate. That Includes TVs, WiFi and cell phones. Alastor can make the Pride Ring go kaploowee if he looks at it funny. I don't know what he's cooking.

[gingervitus]

Davrin Week Day Two: Eyes of an Eagle/Roar of a Lion/Heart of a Halla

I LOVE DAVRIN WEEK @datvcompanionweeks. Here I am very late in my day writing this stuff as I go along.

So I thought about Davrin being a volunteer firefighter, and now here I am at 10:32 PM having written about it.

More modern AU for your Davrin viewing pleasure.

No Heroics (1,776 words)

There are three things, of which Davrin is certain: it’s goddamn late, he smells like shit, and he can’t wait to get into bed.

It had been a normal night spent in front of the TV. Chinese takeout. Not nearly as many dumplings as he would have liked, and someone definitely ate his eggroll. There certainly isn’t a full interrogation that ensued after he discovered the empty wax paper bag. Faulty circumstantial–at best–evidence isn’t presented while another dumpling disappears. Definitely none of that happens. He also most definitely doesn’t end up doubled over laughing with duck sauce smeared across his nose. For that reason, no one will catch him complaining. Even with a pair of slippers propped into his lap that belong to the alleged eggroll thief. “It’s insulting that you would even accuse me.” He let it slide this time. Probably the next time, too. 

Taash has started calling him a sucker everytime they are together, and maybe they’re right. He’s got it bad.

The night was so comfortable and domestic and nice that when the notification of a structure fire across town he almost pops up across the feed he’s idly browsing he almost ignores it. Another time, he thinks as his thumb absentmindedly presses into the tight calf muscle propped up into his lap. An update comes, though. Entrapments. Children. Fire doesn’t care how good someone’s night is going. In fact, it usually waits to rear its ugly head in the worst moments.

Duty calls, as it usually does. He pats the legs of his favorite scheister and trudges around the small living space. A lightly packed backpack equipped with a radio hangs from one of the metal hooks by the front door, joined by several jackets both old and new. The night is cool but not cold enough to warrant one of the coats, so he settles on an old sweatshirt. His head is just about through the top when he bumps into the back of the couch. The dip down is intended to be brief, but fingers curl around both drawstrings of his hood to pull him down further. “Don’t go saving too many babies or old people. You’ll make the rest of us look bad.” He laughs something in response. Truthfully, he can’t be bothered to remember, too distracted by the lips that brush up against his as the words are spoken. “Come back in one piece please. No heroics out there, mister.”

Simple instructions, which he’s technically followed… mostly.

The ER nurse–Lina, as her badge labels her–is giving him instructions, too, but his mind is fried. Adrenaline has long since worn off. The taped up ribs under his shirt ache with each breath he takes. He glances at Lina, watching carefully for each time her brows raise and she looks up from the laptop in her hands. That’s the signal for him to nod. To acknowledge that he understands what she’s telling him. He nods each time even if the pounding in his head gets worse when he does so. All he wants to do is go home, and this seems to be the quickest way to get there.

It should have been a normal call. Just like any other.

Cut and dry. 

Grab grandma and any kids and get the hell out of there.

But it was an old duplex with too many people living inside. Too shoddy of wiring for a building over a century old. Too much needs to be powered by electricity than such an old structure would allow for without major electrical overhaul and a ton of money shelled out. It’s a mess.

By the time they arrive, the whole place is up in flames like the place was built from cards. Ambulances are lined down the street. Larger fire departments are in the process of being contacted, but there’s no time. No time for waiting. No time for thinking. No time for worrying. No heroics out there. 

There’s only time to act. 

Flames lick all around every single volunteer that enters the building. The walls that are still made of plaster glow with the flames raging within them. Newer ceilings and walls are crumbling. Embers spit in every direction. The whole house feels as if a creature from the depths of the earth is reaching up to claw it down to the molten core. It’s crumbling. There isn’t enough time.

Each room proves to be empty as they open. Clear. Clear. A bedroom, smack in the center of the ground floor has a door cracked open. Fire burns inside. A chemical smell fills the air. Old wallpaper. Maybe lead paint given the age of the house. He can’t be sure. He doesn’t even really care. Beneath a window in the corner of the room, a small frame sits curled up, wheezing through the smoke. There’s no time to waste. “Come on.” The child is screaming as best they can through burning lungs. “Let’s get you out of here.” They’re light. Easy to carry through the crumbling building to safety, but they yell. They scream. They pound against his chest with little fists, and at first, he doesn’t even care to make out what they’re saying. It doesn’t matter in the long run. At least, it doesn’t until the word finally catches his ear. 

“Kitty!”

A fucking cat.

Lina leads him out of the room he’s been trapped in for the better part of the last couple of hours. She’s still talking but he can’t hear her. His ears are still ringing, but he manages to nod at times he’s fairly sure are appropriate. The whole place smells like soot, wallpaper paste, and antiseptic, although that could just be him. He isn’t sure where everyone else from the fire ended up. He doesn’t even know if they managed to put it out. Asking the nurse about it requires a deep enough breath that his entire side sears with pain, so he takes that as a sign to worry about it later.

The waiting room is fairly empty. A few stragglers sit in seats, doubled over in pain. Pale faced and staring out into space. Agitated and staring at watch faces that seem to move all too slowly. He can’t be bothered to give them much more than a passing observation. It has to be close to dawn at this point. He just wants to faceplant into his bed, which doesn’t feel like a tall ask after the night he’s had. 

At reception, there appears to be a scuffle going on. A woman is yelling. Pleading, even. Begging to be let in. Demanding. “Please, you called me!” she shouts. Her voice breaks. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Please just–”

“Ma’am, I told you. I can’t let you–”

“Please!” He coughs. A mistake that he can’t help but make. He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it home in this state. His truck is back at the fire station. Fuck. How is he supposed to get home? “He’s my brother! He’s a doctor!”

“Silvia, you cannot just march into a hospital, say I’m your brother, and demand entry.”

Silvia.

Whatever Lina is telling him doesn’t even get picked up through facial expressions. He’s wandering–limping–toward reception. Pale hair is pulled back into a lopsided ponytail that bounces around frantically as incomprehensible words are spat out between the older woman who watches on, completely unamused, and the exhausted doctor with a headful of dark curls and a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache beside her. Hands wave around, manic, urgent. His fingers curl around the arm attached to them. The face that turns to face him looks as exhausted as the doctor and somehow manages to fall and lift upon seeing him. 

“Davrin,” Silvia breathes. “Holy shit.” Her fingers trace along the side of his face, just below the bandage on his forehead. The touch is featherlight. Barely even there at all. She sucks her cheeks in and bites down on the soft flesh inside. Her eyes blink rapidly up at him. A second hand rests on his other cheek. “What happened?”

He tries to grin at her, but everything is sore. Even his fucking face. God, he just wants to go to sleep. He sighs, head dropping to stare at the floor. Her hands remain holding his face. “Heroics,” he admits.

Kitty, as it turns out, is a kitten, probably too young to be separated from its mother, but is in the corner of the room the child had been in, hiding beneath a blazing bookshelf. It isn’t the logical thing to do, but he goes back into the building that’s being ripped apart by fire to retrieve said kitten. At first, he tries to coax it out to no avail. Instead, he drops down to his knees, throws a hand beneath the shelf, and pulls out the creature, who is screaming much like its companion.

He can see the open front door that they’ve been entering and departing through. He’s almost out. The last occupant of the building is going to make it, he thinks. A job well done at the end of the night. The fire department from the city will take care of smothering the flames, and he’ll go home and tell his little eggroll thief that heroics pay off sometimes. 

That’s all before a beam in the ceiling of the hallway collapses on him, and for whatever damn reason, he cuddles this fucking kitten against his chest to try to save it from the pressure.

“A kitten?” she spits out. “All this to save a fucking kitten?”

When it’s put like that, he realizes how ridiculous it sounds, but when he peels his arms away from his chest and hands the cat to the little boy who had been cowering in the corner of a burning room trying to say his friend, it seems worth it. The tears and the thanks. Knowing that someone got half a happy ending that night feels good. “Yeah,” he coughs out through a laugh. “All to save a fucking kitten.”

“Did it live?”

Silvia’s head whips around. The woman at the desk has returned to whatever tasks await her on her computer, but the doctor waits expectantly with his arms folded across his chest. “Viago, you can’t just–”

“Yeah, it lived,” Davrin assures him. This time the corners of his lips turn upwards despite the effort it takes. “And I’ve got the cracked ribs to show for it.”

She turns back to him, eyes running up and down his battered form. “Good,” she whispers. “I would have been pissed if it didn’t.”

“Jesus Christ, Silvie.”