#for bionic arm reasons

[featherlight-whispers]

i should make a post assigning cars to the vld cast actually

[practically-an-x-man]

i am not immune to a character getting metal wings

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

Need to put him in a jar and shake him like a snow globe

[teastyun]

༻ pound town

arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)

a/n: i'm going to war (exam phase is about to start), therefore i must make haste (my hiatus starts again). also, i got a new job so i'm not sure when my hiatus will end :(

pt. 1 ; masterlist

grabbing the broom from the back of your mechanics shop, you start you usual closing routine as the streets of Zaun more active as the day ends. growing up in Zaun, you appreciate the livelihood of the people, but grew wary of the criminality rising abruptly at the end of each day. enforcers started to patrol the quiet streets of Zaun and hang up missing posters of Jinx, who you've been visited by for several occasions over the last few months for tech equipment she required. you grew fond of the girl and would occasionally even slip a few extra pieces, and she would thank you proudly by telling you about her latest new technological improvements.

one time, she told you about a prosthesis as her newest invention. Sevika immediately came to your mind and the way she held your cheek the last and first time you saw her. or the way her bionic arm held your hips so strongly as you rode her strap. shit, you really are down bad for this woman who doesn't even know your name.

as several months gone by since then, you managed to gather your savings and invest it into your shop for new techs and products to sell. you were finally able to call your shop your full time job and scrap your shifts at the brothel completely. Sevika didn't only save your shop, but she saved you from drowning in exhaustion as the only thing you ever did was work day and night.

you hoped to see her again, but your hope was slowly scarped as each month passed by.

after sweeping the last corner of your shop, you only had to rearrange your products before you could finally leave to go home. as you tidied the screws collection, the door to your shop opened audibly by your crystals dangling from the person entering.

"we're closed-" you start, but stop as you see the person at the entrance.

there she was, standing in her usual cloak and a hood that hid her face, but you recognised her nonetheless. she took her hood off with a smile as she looked at you. "good to see you again."

suddenly, you felt naked again. although she knew your identity (prolly even the whole time), the mask would hide your facial expressions and reactions. now, you are standing there with a shocked impression written on your face, unsure of how to react to the person that is the reason for your shop to still be alive.

"i see you created something out of this shop since the last time I've seen you," she speaks with a soft smile on her lips as she takes a look around in your shop. "thank you. you were actually a huge help last time we've seen each other," you respond, your hands linked together behind your back as you turn to look around your shop.

honestly, your shop is quite shady from outside with its half-broken broken neon sign spelling the name mechs n' treasures. but once you enter, you quickly realise that it's a one man's business by it's intricate appearance. it has so much personality now that you have as much time as you'd like to spent in it, decorating it with your favourite things you've collected over the years that weren't too precious to be displayed in your small flat above your shop. a few colourful crystals dangle around your entrance and the door to your flat, reflecting the neon lights from the streets of Zaun onto the mechanic pieces you sell. tidiness is your top priority, since it's hard to keep such an old shop neat and clean. you love your old and shady, but precious personal shop and wouldn't wish it to be any different. business seemed to be booming recently, too. you had no idea why, but Zaun is a quick and fast learning city with its advantages and disadvantages, resulting in people visiting your shop to buy the pieces they require for their newest project.

now, Sevika is standing in the centre of your shop, taking one of the mechanical pieces into her hands and looking at it in detail.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, looking at her with curiosity. after she puts the mechanic piece back into its tray, she says "I was hoping you could me out with this."

she reveals her bionic arm, where you see the its shimmer capsules completely shattered. surprised, you walk towards her and take her bionic arm into her hand to have a closer look. you inhale her smoky scent and suddenly were confronted with a vivid memory of the first night you guys met at the brothel, as you sat in her lap writhing under her touch. focus. you twisted a few pieces to inspect the reachability of the broken capsules. "I assume you won't be able to take it off?" you ask her, your eyes still fixed on an odd piece you've found.

she shakes her head, "it would be a hazard trying to put it on afterwards. do you think you'll still manage to repair, though?"

after twisting the last few pieces for inspection, you leave her arm. "shouldn't be no issue," you take a look at your wristwatch and notice how late it already is. a few extra minutes won't hurt, you decide.

you nod towards the counter, "take a seat, i'll be right with you."

entering the back of your shop and take a big breath. fuck, this intimidating woman still effects you after several months. at this point, you were sure you even forgot about her.

you grab your toolbox and head to Sevika, who is waiting for you behind your counter on a chair. her cloak is thrown over your register's desk, revealing a similar outfit you saw at the brothel. only now you realise how muscular this woman actually is. her arm is almost fully exposed by her sleeveless top and a choker around her neck makes you shake off your dirty thoughts.

you place the toolbox on the counter before you take a seat next to it. Sevika watches every move of yours, making you even more nervous than you already are.

grabbing your first tool, you lay her arm in you lap and start unscrewing the plates that cover the isolation of the shimmer capsules. her arm felt heavy, but oddly warm in your lap for the fact that it's broken. you remember how the same arm pinned you down on her strap a few months ago.

your brain is almost about to malfunction if Sevika wouldn't have interrupted your thoughts, "so, how is your shop going?" she asks as she leans the side of her upper body on the counter. when you look down at her, she's only mere centimetres away from your face. her grey eyes digging into yours. your pussy clenches as your breathing stops at the sight of her. you quickly look away and focus on her arm again. "it's going well," you start and grab for another tool to remove the shattered pipes. "sometimes it's exhausting to handle a shop alone, but you get used to it, you know."

her eyes follow your movements on her arm while she hums as an indication for you to continue. "once, a dude i recognised from the brothel came to pick up a few things and i couldn't help but wonder what his day job is. he was a sex worker as well, so he probably even recognised me," you tell her. it's unusual for you to share thoughts and memories of your old job. you weren't ashamed of it, but you much happier spending your time in your own shop and not thinking back to your old routine.

she shifts in her seat to look up at you, "i'm glad you were able to escape that shit hole, beautiful," she says quietly, careful of the words she chooses, "do you still remember that night?"

your movements halt immediately at her questions and you felt her eyes laying heavily on you, watching every single movement. the way you took a deep breath, trying not to appear nervous around her. the mere thought of that night made you feel butterflies in your stomach and wetness in your core.

"i do," you confess. without meeting her eyes, you continue your maintenance on her bionic arm in your lap, trying to suppress the urge of jumping into her lap and kissing her senseless. "do you?" you ask in almost a whisper, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

when she didn't, your eyes travelled to hers in question. she seemed to be in deep thoughts as well before she asked "how couldn't i?"

her eyes finally meet yours and you recognise such sincerity and trust in them, you couldn't help the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips.

"you were the only thing on my mind in this cruel world," she continues, making you feel several things at once. "and i don't even know your name."

you chuckled and referred your eyes back to your almost finished work, concentrating on exchanging the pipes.

"so, you're not even going to tell me?" she asks amused.

"what, my name?" you act oblivious, knowing exactly what she wanted. now it was her turn to chuckle at your teasing. "you can be a pain in the ass, you know that?"

you shake your head in disbelief with a smile on your lips as you screw on the last iron plate on her arm.

"move it," you command and she obliges. she moves her joints, making the shimmer that was left in her tank fuel her new pipe, while moving it a few more times in several directions. you've never seen machinery working with shimmer so closely. you wonder how the metal felt like against your skin.

ripping you out of your trance, she stands up. right in front you, almost between your legs, which you desperately wanted to close at the sight as you felt your pussy clench.

"thank you," she looks at you, her eyes wandering from your neck down to the rest of your body. it's like she can't help herself, checking you out as you sit on her cloak next to your work instruments.

"you even look beautiful in your casual attire," she whispers as her eyes meet yours again.

"so," you wrap your index finger through her choker, "how about taking it off and see what's hidden underneath?" you cock your head before you pull her closer. your legs are opened by her thighs between them as she looks down at you, clearly surprised by your boldness. "i don't fuck nameless girls," she says in an equal tone to her low chuckle.

you take a quick look at her lips, wondering what they would feel like on yours. "didn't seem so last time we've seen each other."

your finger is still wrapped around her chocker as you grin. she didn't answer. she knows you're messing with her.

she places her arms on each of your sides, the sounds of her bionic arm moving leaving a shudder throughout your body. she's dangerously close.

"if i remember correctly, last time you've fucked yourself, princess."

shocked by her comment, your grin fades as you suddenly remember how you rode her in that brothel, eagerly chasing your orgasm as she guided you through it.

you let go of her choker and rest your hand at the back of her neck instead, caressing the soft strands of brunette hair as you try to maintain yourself.

"y/n," you whisper. Sevika's eyes widen at first, but a slight grin sets on her lips at the sound of your name.

"beautiful name, princess," she whispers back and you feel her breath on your lips with each sound she speaks.

you close your eyes as you feel her full lips grazing yours. "y/n," she whispers repeatedly. her lips finally touch yours, first cautiously but confident after a few seconds of lingering. you copy her motions and gasp when her tongue grazes your lower lip.

pressing her more firmly against yourself, you part your lips for her tongue to enter. she faintly tastes like cigarettes, but more of a harsh liquor you can't really pinpoint. your arms cling desperately around her neck, feeling her torso pressed around yours in your heated kiss. you lock her against your core with your legs around her hips, moaning as she leaves your lips to leave kisses on your neck. "you have no idea how often i thought of kissing you," she whispers before she trails down kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, licking the line of it and pressing soft bites against your sweet spots.

instead of responding, you pull her up again and lock your lips together. you press your lower body against her in search of the friction you desperately seek, but with no success. her lips form into a smirk against your lips as she realises what you're seeking.

frustrated, you separate yourself from her and motion for her to step aside, so you could jump of the counter. "i have a bed upstairs," you tell her. Sevika stands there confused, but god does she look hot. her lips are glazed from your spit and her hair looks slightly tousled from your hand that clung to it.

she doesn't let you move, though. instead, her hands are pressed firmly on your side as she still stand between your legs. "i thought that might be more comfortable..." you say, unsure of the current situation. she shifts in her stance to let you stand up.

"fuck, yes. i mean, yes, let's go upstairs," she chuckles after stumbling over her own words and her bionic arm moves to gesture you to lead the way. you laugh at her sudden awkwardness but go ahead to lock up your shop.

walking up the stairs, you fumble for your home's keys. Sevika followed you closely behind, touching your waist and kissing your neck as you try to unlock the door, a sigh escapes your lips as you try to unlock your door.

as the door closes behind you, she pins you against it. her hand holds your wrist against the door as she kisses you feverishly. her bionic arm slips beneath your ass to lift you up, so you could wrap your legs around her hips. you press your breasts against her, trying to seek for any further touches. "the bed, Sev," you say between kisses, too occupied to actually resist her touch.

she ignores your words and losses her grip on your wrists instead to wander to the buttons of your shirt, never breaking the kiss. "patience, beautiful," she whispers as her lips leave yours to press a kiss on your cheek. "we have all night, right?"

your arms find their way back around her neck, playing with her loose hair. "please," you respond, your eyes making contact with hers. you peck her lips before you say, "i want to touch you, too."

her head falls onto your shoulder as she groans, "you make me loose my composure so easily," before looking back into your eyes with need and desperation "do you realise that?"

you grin at her confession and kiss her hot and wet, moaning into the kiss as she continues to unbutton your shirt until your bra is exposed to her hand. she grazes the outlines with her fingertips, making a shudder run through your body as you gasp. you press your chest into her touch and she gladly responds with cupping your breast while biting your lower lip.

her index finger grazes your puffy nipple through your bra and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.

she pecks you one last time with a smile, before looking around your small flat, seemingly inspecting your small setup where your bedroom and living room are combined to your cozy grove.

her hand moves to your back, stabilising you in her arms before she finally heads to your bed to lay you down on it, watching you as you lay there with your undone shirt and the few strands that escaped your hairstyle completely wordless.

similar to her, you exhale at the sight in front of you. Sevika is still fully clothed, so you pull her down by her collar to kiss her hard, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her body on top of you. "take this off," she whispers against your lips, her bionic hand gripping your shirt as her hand sneaks behind your neck to tilt your head for her to suck.

she kisses and bites your sweet spot, disrupting your motion of pulling your shirt off and making your eyes roll back in pleasure. you moan her name in frustration before she finally let's go.

"this too," she tells you as she eyes every little detail on your torso. when you take your bra off, her bionic hand cups your breast. the sharp and cold details of her metallic hand exposed on one of your most sensitive parts of your body leave you breathing hard, moaning as her pointy fingers pinch and twist your nipple. "you have no idea how often i thought of touching them since that night," her eyes are not leaving your chest as she confesses.

"you could've touched them that night," you respond, your hand finding the back of her head as you play with her small ponytail. after hearing your words she looks at you, almost with a shocked expression on her face. "there's no way i would have touched you without your consent," she tells you. surprised by this sudden turn, you move up to rest your weight on your elbows, looking at her in disbelief. "but you payed for that night with me," you state, still confused by what she just said.

she's just as surprised as you, cupping your cheek softly as she spoke, "y/n, i would never do anything to you without your consent. do you know that?" she asks you, her eyes never leaving yours as she spoke. you've never experienced any sex partner expressing their respect to you verbally. and fuck, this is probably the moment you realise you have feelings for this woman in front of you. you nod in response, still overwhelmed from your thoughts and feelings. she smiles at you as she says, "good girl."

your soaking pussy almost purred at that nickname. kissing her quick but softly, you grind your clothed hips against hers as you kiss a trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.

she exhales heavily at your motions before saying, "tell me what you want, beautiful."

"i want you to fuck me," you respond after hesitating, still nibbling at her collarbone as a soft moan escapes her.

"with this," you continue as you grind stronger onto her clothed cunt than before.

her bionic arm holds herself on the bed as her fingers trace your curves. "with my fingers?" she teases as she opens your trousers with her other hand slowly.

your lips move up to her ear, licking and biting her soft skin. "no," you whisper, "with this."

you press the seam of her jeans with your fingers against her clit, making her grip your hips hard from your sudden touch. "fuck," she mutters in response, clearly trying to compose herself before she continues to fully undress you.

"under one condition," she starts as she takes in your naked body with hungry eyes, "i'll have a taste before i fuck you," she unbuttons her shirt, revealing a dark bandeau bra beneath. she's in a hurry, so she won't bother to take off her unbuttoned shirt, but moves on by removing her jeans as well as underwear in one go.

you try to take a peek at her body, but she immediately kneels between your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, dragging her motions slowly to your soaking pussy as her hands hold you firm beneath her touch. feeling her breath on your clit, you whine from sensitivity, gripping the sheets beneath you as she finally tastes you for the first time.

both of you moan from the touch, your hips stutter beneath her strong hands. she eats you out like a starving woman, humming at the sounds you're making. your clit is circled by her tongue as she softly bites and sucks before your legs start shaking from the pleasure that builds up in your lower belly.

she moves her arm from your thigh to press softly against it, realising how close you are. "come on my tongue," she tells you, intensifying her motions as you come hard. the way you moan her name sounds similar to a scream, your thighs pressing against her head as you throw your head back in pleasure.

she gently guides you through it by licking in decreasing motions, careful of your sensitivity. as your calming down, she kisses your clit one last time before she straightens herself to watch you after your first high.

her lips and chin are glistening from her pussy and strands that were originally framing her face now hang loosely. "you did so well, beautiful," she whispers, climbing on top of you to press kisses into your face. "fuck, you really sent me to another dimension," you confess, laughing a litte at the absurdity. she chuckles at your words, grinning as she examines your face.

"are you still down for another round?" she asks carefully, giving you the space you might need, but you nod as you smile at her. she kisses you before she straightens again to manhandle your legs, placing one on her shoulder as she moves her own over your other to align with your pussy, not starting just yet. she caresses the long on her shoulder as she presses kisses along with it.

she looks absolutely breathtaking while doing it. you feel her pussy kissing yours, and fuck, she's driving you crazy. the unbuttoned shirt exposes the abs you eyed earlier through the tightness of her shirt. her v-line is deeply defined, even more when she starts to slowly grind against you. her pointy bionic fingers suddenly press into your thigh as she gasps from the pleasure she suddenly receives. her grey eyes watch you heavily, making sure you're alright with her pace as she slowly picks it up.

"you feel so good," you whimper as you meet her motions by copying hers, crying from the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm. "fuck- i'm close again."

she grins at your confession, pushing herself harder on your clit as you cry out from the friction. she's mostly quiet, but a gasp escapes her lips anytime you improve your speed.

"come with me, y/n" she leans down, kissing you with so much passion as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. you moan into the kiss, your breasts moving with each thrust as your nipples graze against the cotton of her bandeau. you felt your orgasm creeping, but you weren't ready for the intensity it comes with. you cry out against her lips, holding her against you as you feel her groaning from her own orgasm. both your hips stutter in your motions before you stop to look at her.

her head rests in the nape of your neck and the only thing you feel is her hot breath against your skin. as you untangle your legs, you kiss on the side of her head. "are you alright?" you ask after several seconds of silence.

she vaguely nods, still maintaining her breath before she answers "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

you smile as you caress her hair through your fingers. "i'd love to figure it out in the future," you continue, making space between your faces so you could look at her as you speak. "this idea you've just mentioned," you clarify as she looks at you speechless.

she kisses you passionately after a few seconds, smiling as she realises what you were suggesting.

"let me take you to dinner after your shift tomorrow?" she asks as her thumb trails your cheekbone. you nod, kissing her on the cheeks before you answer "gladly."

you both fall asleep, and sooner or later date nights with Sevika become your favourite traditions as you two engage in a passionate, but intimate relationship with each other.

tags: @sevsbaby @womenathleteshaveme @macaroni676

masterlist

[cy-cyborg]

It will never not be frustrating to me that amputees appear in fiction ALL. THE. TIME. and yet they're almost never acknowledged as such. The Cyberpunk genre is especially guilty of this: amputees and prosthetics becoming a normalised part of life are a defining part of the genre/aesthetic and yet no one even consults with any amputees about how we get represented there. Most writers in those genres don't even consider that giving your characters cybernetic arms and legs means they're an amputee.

CW: Ableism, dehumanisation

This makes it REALLY uncomfortable to engage with stories in the genre because another common aspect of cyberpunk is the idea of losing yourself and becoming something distinctly not-human anymore because you have too many cybernetic augmentations/implants. Shadowrun even has mechanics for this, which state if you get too many prosthetics, which is what cybernetics are 9 times out of 10, your character becomes a monster. These mechanics and discussions surrounding "how many robot bits make you not human anymore" are really, really uncomfortable when you remember this isn't something that's unique to a far-off future setting. Those people you're discussing the humanity of already exist. They're called amputees. If you reframe the question as "how many amputations can you have before you stop being a person" I hope you can see why an amputee like myself is not going to feel safe around you or in your fandoms.

And it's a shame, because I REALLY want to like Cyberpunk. I really, honestly do. I love the aesthetics, I love the idea of big corporations being the villains and the anti-capitalism at the heart of the genre, and I love the idea of prosthetics being not only destigmatised, but desirable. When written from a disability-inclusive lense, it honestly has the potential to be an incredibly uplifting and empowering genre. but as the genre stands right now, it's actively hostile to the very folks who are usually the stars of its stories: amputees, all because people just refuse to acknowledge us.

Cyberpunk isn't the only genre guilty of this, it's common all throughout sci-fi as a whole, but Cyberpunk is the only one where it starts becoming a serious issue due to its rampant dehumanisation of a real group of people. In other sci-fi settings, it's just kind of annoying and while it can be a form of erasure, it's not usually harmful, just...frustrating. Fantasy does it on occasion too, think pirates with a hook and a peg leg, but nowhere near as much.

If you, as an author or creator, use any of these words to describe a character or their tech in a sci-fi setting:

cybernetics/cybernetic enhancements

bionics

robot limbs

cyborgs

augmentations

You are probably writing an amputee. Please, at the very least, acknowledge it, and be mindful that those are real people who actually exist, not just a fantasy group you can speculate about.

edit:

I originally posted this article on my old Tumblr account and lot of people commented/reblogged to tell me that originally in cyberpunk, the "less human the more robot bits you have" only applied to people who opted for their limbs to be replaced by cybernetics, because it was seen as "renting out your body to corporations for money" but people who had to get cybernetics out of necessity weren't impacted. The thing is though, I really don't think that makes it better, for a few reasons. For one, where do you draw the line at "opting" to get a cybernetic prosthetic? This isn't a black and white thing, even in real life. Most amputations are done out of necessity, but there are situations where it's not the only option, just the best one. Talking from personal experience, I lost both my legs below the knee as a baby, that was a pretty clear cut case, I had a blood infection and gangrene and they had to act fast. But the infection caused lasting side effects and impacted my physical body's development and growth. By the time I got to my early 20's it was causing a lot of pain in my right leg, in my knee specifically, and when I got a bone infection in the end of that stump, I chose to have the whole thing amputated up to the knee. They only needed to take a few inches off the end of my stump, but I asked them to go higher, because of the ongoing issues in that knee, issues that would have been made worse by the shortening of the leg. I choose to remove the whole thing, knowing the joint was degrading and I probably would have lost it later in life anyway. Even if it was salvageable, it would mean much more surgery, and I've had enough of those. A boy I played wheelchair basketball with was born with a partially formed leg, it was half the size of his other leg and he wasn't able to use it al all, it was just dead weight, so he opted to get it amputated too for convenience and so he could use a prosthetic on that side. I worked with a girl who's hand didn't form properly in the womb, resulting in a normal palm, but tiny "finger nubs" (her words) with no bones inside. They weren't actively harming her usually, but she opted to get them and the top of her palm amputated after an incident at work where we were tying balloons and one of her nubs got stuck in the knot. She decided to get them amputated because it meant accidents like that would be less likely, and she could use a prosthetic more comfortably. All 3 of these are considered "optional" amputations, so would people like us be penalised in your setting? does it make sense that the technology in your setting can tell the difference, or that corporations would care about the how and why? Even stepping away from medical grey areas, if your character opts for a cybernetic arm because the corporations will financially reward her, and she's struggling to put food on the table without that help, is that really optional?

Don't get me wrong, I do think that idea could work but it would take a lot of work to do well, and most works I've seen don't do the work. Even if they did though, it doesn't change the fact that most modern uses of this trope don't mention that bit or actively ignore it. It doesn't matter in most cyberpunk works I've seen if the amputation was optional or out of necessity, they still are more prone to being seen as "less human" and in most of the sci-fi writing communities I've been part of, the authors are genuinely shocked when I ask them to remember "people with cybernetics are real people already, they're not some far-off-distant future fantasy group, they're just called amputees". Like it didn't even cross their minds. These are the people creating the works in this genre. Even if it wasn't the original intention of the genre, it's still an issue in the modern version of it. Edit 2: Elaborated a little more on why I don't think the "only people who choose it" argument works in the edit. Also, please stop telling me that old cyberpunk doesn't have this issue, I literally address that in the post lol.

[luna-rainbow]

Hey, I don't know if you've already answered this (and this may be a weird question lol) but why did Hydra just let Bucky's hair grow long? Why didn't they just cut it? I've seen you do other metas and stuff like that (which I love, you're a great writer!) So do you have any ideas?

Aww thanks for enjoying the other metas 💕

That is a very interesting question that I’ve never thought much of 😅

From a Doylist perspective, the Winter Soldier arc was published in 2005-6. Ed Brubaker was born 1966. Men having long hair became more acceptable and even fashionable from about the 1970s (ie Brubaker’s formative years), and that style carried over to the late 1990s (or, if you’re like me who was in the JPop fandom, it was still popular for most of the 2000s). Longer hair in men was generally seen as subversive and cool, or untamed and unkempt, which were descriptors that would have fit Bucky’s reappearance in his new persona. It was also a good way of indicating that time has passed and his character has changed significantly. One other thing is, when it comes to 2D art, long hair flows, ie it’s easier to express dynamism, which is why so many superheroes wear capes. I believe (not having read the actual comics) Bucky’s role changed in The Winter Soldier run from a pure sidekick to something closer to an antagonist and partner, so the more distinctive character design reflects that too.

From a Watsonian perspective…I guess men’s short hair can be somewhat high maintenance in that you kind of have to trim it once a month at least. Who knows if the serum affects the speed of hair growth as well, because if it does then maybe he needs more frequent trims and it just gets long if they miss any. Presumably, given his history, he’s also not an easy customer to approach with a sharp implement, especially not that close to his face. And they’re always in such a hurry to pack him back in the cryo tube or to get him prepped for his mission that it just gets missed until it really gets in the way.

The other possibility is that the longer hair also changes his face shape substantially speaking as someone who didn’t recognise Bucky when the mask came off. It makes his face more angular and the shadows deeper. It probably stops his memories triggering as easily when he sees his own reflection. It serves to erase his original identity, along with his new “name” (although we have no evidence that he knew he was called the Winter Soldier while he was still brainwashed), new uniform and the bionic arm.

The third reason is that the long unkempt hair could be used as a psychological tactic. It’s emasculating and demeaning, especially for someone born in the 1910s and normally known to be well-groomed and tidy. It’s an element of control over his bodily autonomy that he cannot change without them allowing it or at least giving him access to implements to cut it. It contrasts him with the other soldiers, including the other “Winter Soldiers” we see in CACW, who are allowed to sport typical masculine haircuts, and serves as a continual reminder that he is “other”, if not considered somewhat subhuman.

So that’s my two boring cents. I wonder if anyone else has other ideas.

[finchxs-revenge]

So something I absolutely adore about the way Izzy is depicted on screen with his new leg is that he is consistently leaning on or being supported by other characters. It's not all the time and it's not always just for mobility: Sometimes he has to lean on someone because he's fatigued or just a little off balance. And he has moments where he takes things slower or has to really push himself just to like sit down (like how he kind of groans when he sits down next to Stede at Spanish Jackie's.)

I'm not an amputee but I wear leg braces and my left hip is fucked and from my perspective this is a really accurate representation of disability on screen because it presents a balance between things Izzy can do and times he needs or wants help.

I don't watch a ton of movies or TV so maybe there have been better representations of disability on screen since when I was younger, but in the past, I noticed media that showed disability (especially with an able bodied actor in the role) would either 1. make the character visibly disabled but functionally able bodied (like a bionic arm or magically regaining the ability to walk once the plot requires it) or 2. just sideline the character from most of the action to get around times when the disability aspect would get in the way with traditional staging or action scenes. And they nearly never show someone leaning on another character unless absolutely necessary for obvious mobility reasons, not for things like being tired or regular background movement.

But ofmd shows different visible aspects of disability realistically and it's so much better for the characters and the story.

The same is true for Wee John in a lot of ways, he sits most of the time but is rarely removed from the action, and other characters move about him in an inclusive way.

Yeah. I love it all. It's so good.

[stargirl-writes]

safety net part two

pairing : force healer! jedi reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 1 k

masterlist | part one

summary

finding safety in a world deranged by war became a distant dream until your childhood friend, anakin skywalker, comes back to your life.

tags : angst, fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers

warnings : mentions of dressing a wound

notes

part two of this one but can be read as a stand alone !

also, i think it'd make sense if i say that as a demisexual, angst is my version of a smut haha!

Anakin would appear every Wednesday.

The clone war broke out and healing Anakin became more difficult. For every wound that you closed, another would appear.

By the fourth week of your treatment, his bionic arm was nearly finished. You've gone to extensive lengths to gather beskar alloy. Which worked out in the end, because Anakin's synthetic arm became a sort of shield.

There was absolutely no reason for him to keep coming to your med-bay station. You knew he could've easily submerged himself in a bacta tank, which he developed a deep hatred of, or used a stim, but he persists.

And you can't entirely find it in yourself to not welcome him.

Anakin was a part of your childhood that felt like how home always felt. Even if you can no longer identify with most parts of your past, Anakin was... well, it was nice having him around.

"I'm starting to get the idea you're hurting yourself to see me" You teased one late night when Anakin welcomed himself to your quarters.

He lets out a soft chuckle, shrugging his shoulders.

You step forward, hand finding a way to his cheek out of instinct.

Exhaustion. Warmth. Excitement. 

You withdrew your hand, he was alright.

His gaze felt warm on your skin, you caught your eyes locked with his.

Your heart races and you step back, searching for something to occupy yourself with.

"I still don't get how you do that" Anakin's voice echoes from behind. You open the drawer of your closet to find your kit.

When you turned, Anakin was curiously stirring the pot of soup you were preparing.

"Do what?" You asked absentmindedly, laying out the cotton, the antiseptic, and the salve neatly on the table.

"You can tell how I'm feeling by touch?" Anakin searches the cupboards for the bowls and cutlery.

"I've been trained to" You answered, then gestured Anakin to sit down so you can dress his wound.

Anakin walked over and started taking off his robes. He winces under his breath. Recognizing his careful movements, you helped him unbutton his shirt.

A large blaster burn was marking the back of his shoulder to his collarbone.

"You should've gotten this checked by a med droid" You lectured, surveying the wound.

"Thought I could use gentler hands" He still delighted in himself.

You huffed a laugh. Then, you began cleaning the wound.

"I'm applying the salve now" You narrated what you were doing, a habit you developed after realizing Anakin does not like being surprised by the sensation.

He nods and you continue. Finally, you focused your intent on fully healing the wound. You closed your eyes, focusing on breathing at a steady pace. It had been a few moments before the skin was new again.

"Thank you" Anakin mutters, rolling his shoulder to feel the pain had gone away.

You stood up and turned the heat off the soup. Anakin pulls the chair and waits for you to sit. Once again, it was just you and Anakin sharing a table, isolated from everyone else. The way it always used to.

However, when morning comes, the reality of it dawns on you. You can only ever steal a few moments of safety with Anakin, but the truth is there'll always be a war.

On most days, it felt like the losses were unending. On most nights, Anakin would make time to hold you as you wept when the weight of it all felt too heavy.

You weren't really the person to cry in front of other people. But with Anakin, you fall to pieces. Perhaps, you were comforted by the fact that he won't judge you, even if some nights you'd utterly be inconsolable.

"We'll be alright" He'd promise.

Even the fact that you have Anakin Skywalker so definitely became a cause of fear.

Because there he'll always be. You know his eyes like they are your own. You can hear his laughter when he is not laughing. You can come to Anakin and there he'll always be.

What happens when he's not?

You hadn't even realized how much you were depending on Anakin. Because it was always about taking care of each other.

So it came unexpectedly.

One quiet evening Anakin insisted on staying the night.

And you let him in, holding the door wide open so he'd know he could leave anytime he wished.

"I didn't think I'd ever be this happy to be back on Coruscant" You sat on the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath as you leave the tormenting memories of the day fade away with the light.

"I make you happy?" Anakin half turns with a boyish smile.

His resilience was something you admired. You were certain he was carrying an equal amount of grief. And yet, here he was. Brave and confident, so competent, so certain that he, too, has something to offer.

"Of course, you do," You said, to yourself or Anakin, but you couldn't decipher.

He was telling a story of how he started implementing this game with Ahsoka, a competition of some sort to revert her focus away from the truths of the war. His words blur as you stare and think to yourself, Oh.

He has that power over me now. 

It felt like a surrender. In a world terrorized by a raging war, he built a home that made you feel safe.

He notices your silence and sits down next to you, his finger tracing the necklace he gave you, and you find yourself running yours through his hair.

"We're going to be fine," Anakin said. "It's okay, it's going to be alright," he said in a firmer tone.

He'd been there when you needed him to. So, he'd always reassure you.

"I'll always take care of you, you know what, right?"

"That's my line" You chuckled.

Anakin mirrors your smile. "Right, well, I mean it".

Your mind quiets, and you can't hold the pose of defiance when Anakin presses your head to his chest.

"Doesn't it get tiring? Fighting and fighting..." You trailed, voice barely above a whisper.

"It does." He answers. "But we have to, otherwise, it's like handing the galaxy in the hands of a cruel tyrant"

You turned your face upwards to hear more, and your nose touched his.

"Alright, chosen one" You teased his heroic remark.

He grimaces at the title. He still doesn't believe it to be true. And you'd never miss the opportunity to call him that.

"At least you're already chosen by someone" You looked up through your lashes.

Anakin shakes his head and his lips curl to the side. "Well, you're my chosen one"

did anyone catch the dramatic irony haha!

[imaginedanvrs]

my demon gave me everything

part 10 l masterlist

summary: dark!natasha romanoff x reader. Natasha Romanoff saves the world. Morals, lifestyle and past aside, the fact is that she puts her life on the line for everyone else. And for this, she believes she’s owed something. She saves billions of lives on the regular, so why not take the occasional one for herself?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: established kidnapping, physical and psychological abuse, power dynamics, manipulation, developing stockholm syndrone, fingering,

Learning to walk independently again didn’t come easy. It took a lot of time, patience, bruises and declining numerous offers from Natasha to help. You were adamant that you do it on your own but it proved harder than you expected. Your left leg continued to be incapable of holding any of your weight whatsoever and you saw no change happening in the horizon. Most of the time you ended up ungracefully hopping from one room to another while trying to ignore the questioning looks from the Russian. 

  You hit the floor with a heavy thud that could be heard from the other side of the apartment. Natasha had watched you go down from the bathroom where she was cleaning, something you hadn’t ever imagined an Avenger doing, and observed as you laid still against the cold flooring. Usually, you got back up immediately, keen to brush yourself off and start over enough times before you called it a day, but that time you were too discouraged to try again. You hadn’t entirely given up, but it felt close. 

  Natasha’s boots paced across the apartment towards you as you lay staring out at the city beyond the glass with a blank expression. You had miscalculated how far the kitchen island was and toppled to the ground when you were unable to grasp onto the edge. Your left hip and elbow ached as the redhead knew they would from watching the way you fell. 

  The redhead crouched down in front of you and brushed the hair out of your face to reveal a faint bruise on your cheek you had acquired a few days prior. It angered Natasha that you had been hurt due to your own careless mistake as opposed to something she had inflicted. Though in a sense those minor injuries were partly down to the redhead as there was one thing Natasha hadn’t felt inclined to share with you: she controlled the bionic leg. You could never put any weight on it simply because it hadn’t been enabled yet and the Russian wasn’t going to turn it on until you asked her for help.

  Thinking you would have given in sooner, Natasha hadn’t hit or fucked you in weeks and it was proving harder to hold back from doing so. She wasn’t even entirely sure what she was waiting for. For you to come to her? You still ignored her majority of the time and Natasha knew it would be far more satisfying for you to come crawling back to her instead of the redhead making you. But perhaps there was some other reason the Russian couldn’t quite place. The uncertainty didn’t frustrate her as much as it used to and instead sparked a curiosity. 

  “Come here, moy lastovichka,” Natasha said as she placed her hands under you and lifted you in one swoop. You put your hands around the back of her neck for support to allow the redhead to carry you bridal style, too tired to stop her and instead decided to make it easier for her. You sighed and rested your head against her shoulder as she started walking, breathing in her scent that was wholly Natasha. 

  It was only once the redhead began walking up the stairs that you realised you weren’t going back to the bedroom. You suddenly became more alert in her arms as Natasha approached the heavy door you hadn’t come face to face with in a long time. The Avenger paused by the door and gave you an expecting look so you rested your chin back on her shoulder so that you couldn’t see the pin she put in. You suspected she changed it frequently anyway but you found you had no immediate desire to know what it was. You observed your surroundings as the redhead took you through the landing and noted the aspects you remembered such as the large desk and monitors and the two doors along the corridor. You averted your eyes as you passed the main door though once you arrived at the one at the end Natasha opened another door with her hip, letting you into her room.

  Your eyes scanned the space wildly, immediately recognising that it must be the redhead’s bedroom despite never having considered she had another one. While still fairly unpersonalised, it certainly had more character to it than the larger room downstairs and you tried to take in as much of it as you could as Natasha continued through the space to another balcony. Again, the area was strikingly different to that of downstairs, the main factor being the sizable hot tub that took up the majority of the space. 

  The redhead sat you down on the chair, which you assumed was meant to be the pair to the one downstairs, before turning on the hot tub and altering some of the settings. You watched as it sprang to life while Natasha disappeared back inside to take out two bottles from her minifridge tucked next to the wardrobe. In a matter of seconds foamy bubbles covered the surface of the water and the sides illuminated an electric blue. Though the balcony was outside, there was an outdoor ceiling cover and two posts on either ends of the open side of the balcony that gave off a faint hum. As you peered closer, you noticed a subtle shimmer between the posts, as though there was a film covering it. 

  “It’s kind of like a privacy screen,” Natasha said. You turned to her to see the redhead removing her clothes and quickly averted your eyes. You had seen each other naked countless times but you still weren't used to the etiquette. “There’s no physical barrier there, just a little something to stop the world looking in on us,” She explained. Just as she did you felt a light breeze brush against you that made your uncovered arms raise with goosebumps, making you want to jump into the water even more. 

  You contemplated for a second before taking your sweatpants off but leaving your shirt on as Natasha came back towards you. She held out her hand for you to take and you took it. She didn’t hide her smile of triumph and you struggled not to give one back. You liked when the redhead was happy. She eased you both into the perfectly warm water that went higher than you expected and grabbed the two bottles she had already taken the tops off of. Both beers, yours being non-alcoholic of course but you appreciated it nonetheless. You didn’t feel like getting drunk anyway. 

  “I didn’t take you for someone with a hot tub,” you quipped and Natasha smiled again. Inside, part of you beamed at the accomplishment you hadn’t realised you wanted.

  “Fury set up this apartment for me. He added the hot tub as a joke and told me it might help me relax,” she recalled. You had to bite back a laugh. 

  “Go ahead and laugh,” Natasha said easily. You glanced at her and couldn’t help but admire her features. She had changed a couple of her earrings to hoops instead of studs, they looked nice. Her hair was up in a plait again, though there were more loose tendrils that hung loosely from her face to her neck than usual. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the sudden change in temperature to her body though they were subtle against her tan. The widow really was beautiful. 

  Despite yourself, you shuffled closer to the redhead so that the outsides of your thighs touched under the water and you wondered if she felt the same tingle dance across her skin that you did. You enjoyed being close to her, even if there was always a small voice in the back of your mind warning you to be careful. Natasha hadn’t hit you in a while, but you knew that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do it again. You weren’t as scared at that fact as you should have been. 

  You sat like that for a while, in a comfortable silence as you gazed out at the midnight city you were positive there was no better view of. You were on top of a world you realised you might never experience again and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. Staying with Natasha didn’t feel so much like a prison anymore, mainly due to the fact you no longer had any hatred for the redhead. You weren’t sure you disliked her either. You were wary of the Avenger, but it didn’t stop you admiring her beauty and skill. She used to be your favourite hero and everything you used to admire about her was being seen under a new light. You never thought they would be used against you. 

  You sat with that thought a while, not entirely sure what to make of it. It was daunting, that was for certain. 

  “You make me think too much,” you said suddenly, not registering it until you saw Natasha look at you. She seemed as though you had peaked her interest. “I don’t want to think,” you admitted, deciding you might as well go with it. It was true, there were so many conflicting thoughts battling it out in your mind that the noise was becoming overwhelming. 

  “How long have I been here?” You asked when Natasha didn’t respond. 

  “Two months, one week and four days,” the redhead answered without any hesitation. That was longer than you thought. It had been impossible to tell how much time had passed when you were ill. 

  “Two months and I only tried to leave once,” you stated. “And in that one time I didn’t even really want to.”

  “You didn’t?” The redhead pushed as she watched you intently. 

  “I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling the turmoil start up again. “It was a lot to think about in such a short amount of time and…I don’t know.” You both let your words hang in the air. “Did you want me to leave?” You asked suddenly, never having considered it before. Natasha looked as conflicted as you did.

  “I don’t know,” she mirrored. “They always do so I guess I was expecting it but there was a moment where I thought you wouldn’t and…” the Russian struggled for words though you could tell it was more that she struggled to admit them. “I guess I didn’t want you to. I thought you were different.” She turned to you and saw the flash of hurt across your features, thinking she had given up on you. “Maybe you are,” she stated. You whipped your head back to the redhead and met her eye. 

  “Tell me about the others,” you said slowly, not sure if you really wanted to hear it or if Natasha would even want to tell you. 

  “None of them have ever been in here,” she started. You frowned, looking around at the space.

  “Really?” You asked, not sure you quite believed the redhead but she hummed in response anyway. 

  “The only times they ever got upstairs was when I wanted to see if they were going to leave. I didn’t test all of them like that but when I did I only did it once.” 

  “And none of them got ill after?” 

  “Not from what you did. A couple got sick randomly but…” Natasha shrugged, not feeling it necessary to inform you of how she dealt with it. 

  “Were they all as inexperienced as me?” You asked bluntly, trying to interpret what the bigger picture was to Natasha.

  “Mostly,” she said simply. 

  “What is it you wanted from them- from us?” You corrected, reminding yourself you were a part of it all.

  “I told you. I think I should get something back for everything I do,” she said plainly, not a single doubt in her philosophy. 

  “People say the world owes you an unpayable debt,” you said after a beat.

  “They’re right. They’re just lucky this is all I want,” the redhead was quick to say.

  “This is it?” You asked, momentarily forgetting how fucked up it was what Natasha was doing. She nodded once and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of guilt at the fact you had tried to deprive her of that, that you all had. How selfish. 

  “Do you want me to stay?” You needed to know for definite, deciding that you would take whatever Natasha told you as face value. Trustworthy or not, you wanted to hear her say it to help you decide what it was that you wanted. The redhead didn’t answer for a few moments. She watched as the bubbles swirled around the water in unison, breaking up in sections to attach onto new masses. 

  “I think so,” that was enough for you. You held onto the outside of the tub between you and used it to help bring your leg over Natasha’s lap so that you could straddle her, moving gradually enough that the redhead wouldn’t perceive it as hostile. You brought your hands down to the Avenger’s shoulders, letting your thumbs graze across her neck just light enough for the redhead to allow. Glancing into her eyes once more, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips against her awaiting ones. Natasha was practically soaring when you kissed her, it being the first time you, or any of the others, had made a move on her. 

  The need that you put into it was insatiable, no matter how closely you pulled yourself into the redhead or where she let your hands grip her, it wasn’t enough. You wanted to make all of the hurt go away, for both of you. You wanted everything she did that you weren’t sure how to give. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, barely pulling away for air or for you to mutter against her. “I’m not leaving.” Natasha exhaled heavily and gripped your ass to pull you flush against her. 

  “Say it again,” she demanded, rough voice returning but you didn’t care about what it might mean or lead to.

  “I’m not leaving, Nat,” you repeated desperately, needing her to know you meant it. 

  “Again.”

  “Don’t let me leave,” you begged, grabbing Natasha’s hands and bringing them round to your front and pushing them down your underwear. The Russian sighed heavily when she felt your throbbing clit and didn’t hesitate in rubbing small circles against it. You whined, bucking into her hand at the contact you had missed dearly. 

  “Look at how needy you are, detka.” Natasha chuckled as she let her fingers dip down to swipe through your folds. “You’re mine,” she said before thrusting two fingers inside you, grunting as she met the resistance that never seemed to ease. “No one else will ever make you feel like this,” she husked against your ear. You gripped onto the redhead like a lifeline, moaning desperately at the feeling of her fingers filling you up. 

  “Only daddy,” you whined, throbbing around her digits. 

  “That’s right,” Natasha practically growled as she moved her fingers faster and made sure to rub the spot that always made you spin. You panted and moaned, feeling yourself edging for a release and wanting to beg the redhead to keep going like you had countless times before, but the words were stuck in your throat and all you could manage were pathetic mewls that thankfully Natasha understood. She had enough generosity in her that night to deem it enough, thrusting her fingers wildly inside you until you were plummeting over the edge and squeezing her fingers tight enough to almost push them out. 

  You slumped against Natasha as you fought to catch your breath. She held onto you as you came down from your high, feeling utterly spent and still very much on cloud nine. It was more peaceful than you ever had been in your life. Though once you had enough time to bathe in that feeling, it was overturned by a sense of crushing guilt. You had deprived Natasha of so much, thinking your freedom was more important than a superhero’s happiness. Where you, or any of the others, got such a notion from was beyond you, but you had to make it right. 

  “I’m sorry,” you whispered as the weight of what you thought was a huge mistake pressed down on your chest. “I’m so sorry,” you repeated as the dam broke and tears streamed down your face. You tentatively clung to Natasha, not holding her nearly as tight as you wanted to because you didn’t think Iyo deserved that comfort. 

  The Russian let you cry into her shoulder for a while, not quite believing the unrehearsed scene playing out before her. You were apologising and Natasha didn’t know what for. She didn’t want to ask and make you doubt whatever need you felt to do so. She also couldn’t let it pass without knowing. Slowly, she pulled you away from her shoulder so she could peer into your watery eyes so full of sorrow.

  “Tell me what you’re sorry for,” she said with the air of authority you craved. 

  “I’m sorry for fighting you,” you sniffed, looking at the redhead as though her forgiveness would mean the difference between life and death. Natasha took your chin gently in her hands as she fought the urge to laugh. You looked pathetic apologising for such a thing, yet the assassin was in awe of it. She had you wrapped around her little finger in a way she couldn’t have foretold, desperate for her forgiveness for the crime of being human. Well it was okay, Natasha had rid you of all those impractical thoughts and instincts and would make sure the only thing you had to concern yourself with anymore was pleasing the redhead. 

  “It’s okay,” she shushed, kissing your tear stained cheeks. “We’ll make it okay.” 

  “How?” You whispered, afraid you wouldn't be able to. Natasha basked in the sight. 

  “You’re gonna behave for me now, aren’t you moy lastovichka?” You nodded quickly and Natasha squeezed your chin.

  “Yes, Nat,” you corrected, earning a content hum from the redhead. 

  “Let’s go back inside, it’s getting late,” Natasha said as she pushed you gently off of her lap. You missed the contact immediately. She stood from the tub and went back inside to grab several towels before coming back to help you out and dry off. You peeled the wet shirt from your skin and Natasha took it for the wash, telling you to stay when you tried to follow her and guided you to her bed when she came back. 

  You were confused at first, not familiar with the change of scenery and not believing you deserved to be in such a personal space. Your worries were eased when the redhead pulled you flush against her chest as close as possible and allowed you to hold her back. This time, your peacefulness wasn’t interrupted by any sudden guilt and you were able to fall into a peaceful slumber within minutes. Natasha, however, stayed awake for a while longer as her mind ran wild with newfound possibilities.

[cryptidghostgirl]

A/N I have some requests in the chain above this one but wanted to post something that was a stand alone and not a part to another fic I wrote earlier because of how long I have been away. I promise the two requests lined up before this (pt 3 of till death do us part and pt 4 to cover up) will be out soon! Also, this request reminds me of Cinder by Marissa Meyer so there is some mild inspo from that in here (and loose quoting. sorry. I got carried away.).

What it Means to be a Person (Alastor x Cyborg!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Y/n gave an arm and a leg to the fight against the exterminators and feels she has lost her humanity by the bionic replacements Lucifer and Charlie gifted her in return. Alastor reminds her that not all is lost, she can still dance, after all.

Warnings: Hurt//comfort. This might've ended up a little more angsty than intended and I kinda ran away with the prompt. Sorry about that.

Word Count: 2,246

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List 

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

“Imagine there was a cure, but it would cost you everything. What would you do?”

Y/n's question hung in the air of the dimly lit kitchen, echoing off the uncertainties late hours like this one always seemed to carry. Alastor froze where he stood by the stove, his hang halfway to the kettle whistling away upon it. He turned to face her where she sat at the far end of the rough hewn kitchen table, her head in her hands and her hair acting as a curtain, as a shield, hiding her face from view.

The meeting had been an accident. Alastor had found himself craving a cup of tea to accompany his late night preparations for tomorrows broadcast and when he had entered the kitchen, he had found her sitting there. Since the day Y/n had shown up at the hotel in all her bright and wild exuberance, Alastor had felt a connection with the girl. She was bubbly, a showman at heart with a soft spot for the macabre, how could he not automatically find a certain level of camaraderie with her? Everything had changed after the battle with Heaven a few weeks before.

Y/n had fought valiantly, using all her brains and brawn to protect the place she had come to call her home and the people she had discovered to be her family. The battle did not take her life, but she did give an arm and a leg to its hungry fervor. With Lucifer's help, Charlie had managed to get her an appointment with a well known doctor in Pentagram City. The man had given Y/n back her ability to stand, to reach for things, but had taken the mangled remains of her human form in the process. She had been brought back to square one, learning how to walk, to hold a pencil. She had been filled to the brim with wires that allowed her to control her new appendages.

The conversation had been an accident as well. Alastor hadn't meant to open the can of worms he was now sifting through. He had just spotted her sitting there, had casually asked how she was doing. Y/n was always so human, so much more human than he was capable of being. It was the only thing that had ever held him back from taking what he wanted, that wild and irrevocable humanity of hers.

"I would take the cure." Alastor replied after a moment, turning back to the stove and at last lifting the kettle, pouring the hot water into his favorite mug, "It would be better than the alternative."

With a decided intent in his step, he made his way over to her. The legs of the chair scraped dangerously across the floor as he pulled it out and took a seat beside her. Y/n looked up.

Alastor was shocked at what he saw. Y/n had been hiding since the battle, claiming that she was recuperating. No one had any reason to doubt her given the injuries she had sustained but now, Alastor was not so sure. Her eyes were sunken, dark circles dulling the pink of her cheeks. She was silver in the moonlight as it streamed through the window but she did not shine as she normally seemed to.

"I'm not human anymore."

Y/n's voice was cracked and raw, it only made him love her more. Out of all the creatures in Hell, she was the only one who would worry about such a thing, he was sure of it. Alastor had to stop himself from laughing, focusing on the heat of the cup held between his hands.

"You never were. You haven't been in a long time." he mused in response and Y/n sighed.

"I don't feel like a person anymore."

Again, another contradiction. Y/n was a demon, through and through. Not quite an overlord but powerful, well on her way to becoming one. There was nothing human about that in Alastor's eyes. The way he saw it, the moment a soul died they stopped being a person, no matter where in the afterlife they ended up. It was clear she would not agree. They had never talked of such matters before, it was an unexpected revelation. Alastor took a deep breath.

"Why?"

Y/n was silent, her eyes returning to the table as she traced the grains of the wood. It was unlike him, the concern, the curiosity for such an emotional matter. Alastor had long since given up on trying to make sense of the things she provoked in him. He tried again.

"How do you define being human? Is it what you look like? What you're made up of? Or is it who you are."

It was a clumsy attempt. There had been no need to provide comfort for a long time, not since Alastor had been alive. He was out of practice but, he supposed, caring for another was rather like riding a bike. Once you learned how it was done, you never really forgot.

"Who you are but..." Y/n's eyes met his once again, the conflict occuring behind them apparent.

She was unsheltered, the facade was gone. Alastor would consider himself close with the demon, closer perhaps than anyone else at the hotel but still, he had never seen her like this. His heart hurt.

"At the same time," she continued solemnly, "there is more to it than that."

"How do you define humanity?"

Y/n thought for a moment.

"Dancing. Spending time with friends, having people who care about you. Making meals together, reading books and poetry. Making art. Feeling one with the world around you, being a part of the earth we all come from."

Alastor held another laugh at bay. It wasn't out of the blue but, at the same time, there was something strange about hearing the words as they left her lips. He took a sip of his drink, the hot liquid worming its way down his throat and into his stomach.

"Doesn't the fact that you now find yourself to be inhuman at all show at least some of those?"

Y/n cocked her head to the side in confusion, her brow furrowing. Alastor sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"What I mean is that the reason you have those bionic limbs of yours at all is because you have people who care about you enough to get them for you and you cared enough about other people to give up what you originally had. If that isn't having people who care about you, spending time with friends, being one with the world around you, I don't know what is."

"But I am not of the earth any longer." Y/n ruefully replied.

"You are."

"How? I am naught but metal now. I traded steel for skin."

In the weakness of the night breeze, she seemed to slip into the skin she once wore. Flowery language, a posh, nearly transatlantic accent, shoulders straight and strong, all reminders of her upper class upbringing from so long ago. He could almost see her now as she must've been. It was a trick of the light.

"You were buried, right?"

Y/n nodded.

"I believe so. Beside my mother."

"Then you are forever of the earth."

"To the earth we must return," Y/n nodded after a moment in solemn agreement, "but I will never dance again."

Alastor had never even known it was something she had enjoyed. The time for questions was later, he got to his feet, his cup left abandoned on the table.

Alastor summoned his staff with a wave of his hand, leaning it against the sideboard as a soft song began playing from its speaker. Turning to Y/n once again, he offered her his hand. Y/n eyed it tentatively before reaching out her own to grab it.

With a shake of Alastor's head, she halted mid movement. He didn't need words to get his point across, Y/n just didn't like it. Lowering her hand, she raised the other. It was heavier, made from something other than flesh. There was an ungainly sense to the way she moved it. It didn't flow graceful through the air, it was too heavy for that. The metal of her fingers was cold and harsh against his palm as he helped her ineptly to her feet.

"Ella Fitzgerald." she mused softly, her eyes on his microphone.

"I didn't know you liked jazz."

Y/n's eyes met his once again and she gave him a half hearted smile.

"Growing up in the 1930s and being someone who held distaste towards jazz would have been an impossibility, wouldn't you agree?"

He had known she was alive sometime around the turn of the century but, that had been it. Alastor grinned from ear to ear at this subtle revelation.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Letting go of her hand, Alastor took a step back. He bowed. Y/n couldn't help it, she laughed a little.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Alastor looked up at her, still bowing as their eyes met. Slowly, he straightened himself up, holding a hand out to her once again.

"Y/n, would you do me the absolute honor of sharing this dance?"

He had hoped his showmanship would make her smile, make her laugh even, the way it normally did. Instead, she withdrew her arms to her chest, taking a halting step backwards as she shook her head. Alastor's gaze softened. He had never seen her afraid before.

"Please."

"I..."

Y/n's eyes flitted wildly around the room, searching for any excuse, any fodder for her escape. At last, she relented, hesitantly placing her hand back into his own.

"Okay."

Her voice was soft, almost breathless. Alastor pulled her into him, snaking an arm around her waist as she placed her other on his shoulder.

"See?" he asked as they began to dance, "All is not lost to you."

There was nothing elegant about her movements. Y/n grimaced.

"But it is not the same either. Once I was something grand."

"Change is inevitable. You are still someone grand."

"Not change like this."

Alastor spun her out, catching Y/n in his arms as she almost tripped over the weight of her foot.

"Why do you hate it so much? Is it vanity?"

“Vanity is a factor," Y/n admitted, "but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth and I am not made up of the same materials I once was."

"Change is inevitable." Alastor said again and was overjoyed when Y/n rolled her eyes, smiling slightly as his response, "You're still beautiful, almost more so now."

This took her aback. The tingle of a question at the back of her mind was outweighed by shock. She stilled, still pressed close to Alastor as the music filtered softly into their ears.

"What?"

"Before you shined, but just on the inside." Alastor admitted, refusing to look away from her wide eyes even as he felt the heat rush to his cheeks, "Now you do on the outside as well, see?"

He held the hand he clasped tightly in his own up to the light streaming in through the window. The moon glinted off the silver surface of the metal, sending playful patterns scattering across the walls of the kitchen. Y/n's breath caught in her throat.

"And you can still dance. Why don't you help me with dinner tomorrow?"

It was something they had done on occasion before the extermination, cook for the inhabitants of the Hazbin Hotel together.

"Why are you doing this?"

The smile slipped from Alastor's face.

"I don't understand." Y/n shook her head, pushing herself away from Alastor and wrapping her arms around her torso, "Why are you doing all this for me?"

The answer was simple. Sometimes, the truest things in life are.

"Because I love you." he admitted, "And it pains me to see you like this."

"I..."

He had known it was too good to be true. The music stopped, his staff vanishing into thin air as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'll go. Just... make sure you get some sleep tonight, I know you havent been."

He was halfway to the door, mostly past her, when he felt the cool grip of her hand on the exposed skin of his wrist. Alastor stopped, he turned. There was a minute bravery in the act. Not that she had stopped him, that she had grabbed his arm. If anything, that was the most normal thing that had occurred all evening. No, it was the arm she had chosen to use, the one she held such conflict over and saw as something to be embarrassed about, ashamed of.

She stood tense in the moonlight, her free hand raised to her chest.

"I..."

Y/n's mind was spinning, her thoughts firing off at a thousand miles a minute. She wanted to say it, knew it was true, but something stopped her. She wasn't ready.

"Thank you, Alastor."

Alastor smiled softly, almost sadly over at her. Gently, he removed her hand from his wrist, holding it in his own and patting it gently.

"Always."

------

QUOTES REFERENCED (BECAUSE I REFUSE TO STEAL OTHERS WORK EVEN FOR A FANFICTION)

“Imagine there was a cure, but it would cost you everything. What would you do?” -> taken from “Imagine there was a cure, but finding it would cost you everything. It would completely ruin your life. What would you do?” in Cinder by Marissa Meyer

“Vanity is a factor," Y/n admitted, "but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth and I am not made up of the same materials I once was." -> taken from “Vanity is a factor, but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth.” in Cinder by Marissa Meyer

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007

[agaypanic]

Can a request adam davenport x crush reader ?

Adam Davenport Crushing On You Headcanons (GN!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

I feel like Adam wouldn’t really realize that he was crushing on you at first

Like, he knows that he likes you as a person

And he thinks about you all the time

But it probably wouldn’t click for him until someone brought it up

“Adam, if you stare at them any longer, I think you’re gonna kill them with your heat vision,” Chase said, watching his brother watch you with his signature blank-minded smile.

“I don’t think so,” Leo commented. “It looks like he has hearts in his eyes instead of lasers.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Adam asked, finally taking his eyes off you to look at his brothers. 

“Are you serious?” Leo asked. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Adam was, in fact, confused about the topic. “Dude, you’re totally crushing on Y/n.”

“What?” The tall boy laughed. “Nuh-uh. What makes you say that?”

“You stare at them all the time.” Before Adam could bring up an excuse for that, Chase continued. “You’re always giggly and smiling when you’re around them. The two of you are practically attached at the hip, and when you aren’t, you always find a way to bring them up in every conversation.”

Adam’s eyebrows furrowed, thinking over everything Chase had said.

“We’re just really good friends.” He said, although, by the tone, it seemed that even he wasn’t convinced.

When he realizes that his feelings for you aren’t entirely platonic, he starts to freak out a little

He doesn’t really know how to act with you know that he knows that he likes you

What if he did something that you would read as more than platonic?

Or what if you do something that makes him think you return his feelings, but he turns out to be wrong?

“Hey, Adam!” Your grin brightened when Adam opened the door for you. You hugged him, wrapping your arms around his waist because he was so tall.

“Hey, Y/n.” He said, a little less enthusiastically than you, but you didn’t notice.

What you did notice, however, was his body stiffening under your touch before slightly relaxing when he hugged you back. The two of you separated, and he closed the door while you walked to the couch.

“You okay, Adam?” You asked as you sat down. Adam scratched the back of his neck, seeming a bit nervous for some reason.

“Yeah, I’m good…” 

Before you could ask any more questions, he plopped down on the couch and grabbed the TV remote, looking for something to watch.

When he stops freaking out, he starts trying to impress you and do things for you

Carrying your books or your bag

Walking you to your classes

Whether you know about his bionic super strength or not, he’ll try to use it to impress you

It seemed like Adam had been wanting to spend more time with you recently. Not that you minded; you really enjoyed being around Adam.

“Adam, won’t you be late for your class? Isn’t it on, like, the other side of the school?” Even though you were kind of hinting that he should leave so he wouldn’t be late, you didn’t want him to leave. His walking you to class was starting to become one of the favorite parts of your day.

“Nah, it’s fine.” He waved off the concern with a smile. “I’m always late because most of the time, I forget where I’m going. I think at this point, my teachers would be more surprised if I was on time.”

You laughed, although it made you wonder how long his tardiness would go on before Mr. Davenport had to get involved.

“Well, maybe I should start walking you to your classes then.”

“Maybe, but then I couldn’t walk you to yours.”

You reached your classroom, and you turned around to smile at him.

“You’re sweet, Adam.” Without thinking too much about it, you raised up on your toes to be able to reach your lips to his cheek. When you got back down and looked up at him, Adam seemed to be going red with a blank-minded grin. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

You entered the classroom, leaving Adam out in the hall, feeling like his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

[sithbvcky]

CHARADE

Inspired by the film "The Man From U.N.C.L.E", after learning of your estranged father's nefarious ties to an underground organization, you find yourself caught in the middle of two enemy spies and a whole lot of trouble. Bucky x Female!Reader. Warnings: Language, typical spy violence Word Count: 1,148

PROLOGUE: 1963

“Are you kidding me?” Sam protested. “I have to team up with bionic staring machine?” He pointed at Bucky who had his arms crossed over his chest and a sour look on his face. 

“It’s just for the mission, Sam. We need his help.” Tony explained. “He’s knows his role already, but we need you to get the girl out of East Berlin first.”  

“Should I tell her about the arranged marriage or save that for later?” Sam said sarcastically, earning a glare from Bucky. 

“It’s bad enough I gotta be partnered with the man who tried to kill me, but now I gotta set her up with you.” Sam continued. Bucky clutched his fists together, his mechanical arm whirring. 

“Enough! There’s more important shit here than who gets the girl, damnit!” Tony shouted. Bucky relaxed and Sam sighed. Tony continued, 

“Sam, you focus on the Russo’s themselves. Mrs. Victoria Russo is the one to watch out for, she’s the brains behind the whole operation. Theres your girl.” Tony said snidely. 

“If all goes well we stop an underground nazi organization from selling their warheads to our enemies. Got it?” Tony finished. Bucky and Sam looked at each other begrudgingly. This mission would definitely be bumpy but they’d both be damned if they didn’t make it work. Even if they couldn’t stand each other. 

“Got it, boss.” Sam confirmed. Bucky nodded silently.

“Good, let the charade begin.” Tony clapped his hands then left the room, leaving the other two men standing in silence. 

“You better not screw this up, man.” Sam taunted. 

“Just stay out of my way then.” Bucky retorted. 

“I don’t want to be covering your ass if you lose your cool.” Sam shot back. 

“You worry about you, you forget how long I’ve been in this business.” Bucky snapped. 

“I didn’t forget what you did for most of your life, not just espionage. You sure you can keep that caged?” Sam knew he was getting under Bucky’s skin. He could tell by the way Bucky’s fingers on his flesh hand began to tap against his leg. 

“I can handle myself.” Bucky moved forward, slamming his shoulder into Sam’s as he made his way out of the room. 

***

East Berlin

Sam approached the mechanic shop, straightening his suit as he stepped inside. 

“I’m looking for Y/N Y/L/N.” He said to the first man he spotted. The man gestured with his thumb to the back where a pair of legs were sticking out from underneath a car. 

“That’s a beautiful machine.” He commented, standing above them. You pushed yourself out from under the car and glared up at Sam. 

“Can I assist you?” You asked, your face was smudged with black. Grease and oil from the car. 

“You can, you are Miss Y/L/N, right?” Sam asked, moving to place the briefcase he carried with him on the desk beside the car. You rolled yourself back underneath the car, 

“Depends on who’s asking.” You retorted, returning to tinkering with the machine. 

“Do you know where your father is?” Sam continued, taking a seat in the empty chair. You rolled yourself back out from under the car and sat up, wiping your hands with an already dirty towel. 

“No, I haven’t spoken to him for many years. Why?” You asked, standing up to your feet now. 

“There is reason to believe that your father is in league with a very dangerous group of people and we need to get to him, fast.” Sam stated, intertwining his fingers and leaning back in the chair. 

“And why would I want to help, let alone know where he is. I already told you we haven’t spoken in many years.” You responded sharply. 

“Well, you can either come with me or let them pay you a visit next. I assure you it will not be as friendly.” Sam started as he stood up from the chair. He walked over to the entrance of the garage to peek outside, noticing the shadow of someone watching. 

“May I borrow your car?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“We need to get out of East Berlin, and I don’t have a car so, may I borrow yours?” He was urgent yet still polite. He was still peering outside of the garage, as if expecting someone. Realizing you didn’t have much choice, you pulled the keys from the pocket of your overalls. 

“Marvelous! You drive.” 

***

After a rather perilous chase through the streets of East Berlin by who you assumed were the evil people your father dealt with, you arrived back at a small hotel on the other side of the wall. Far from the little shop you had spent a good amount of time in. Sam had prepared a small meal for you then disappeared into the other room where you assumed whomever was giving the orders was waiting. Being chased by some evil nazi group was enough to ruin your appetite. Instead, you decided to rest on the little cot in the corner

The next day, you found yourself trying on dresses, hats and handbags. All in the name of espionage. 

“These are more expensive than my car!” You remarked, twirling around in the latest statement dresses of the year. The door to the shop opened and a strong but stern looking man walked in. His hands were in his pockets, his eyes looked at you coldly. 

“That is not how an architect would dress his fiancée.” His tone was just as cold as his stare. 

“Fiancée?!” You exclaimed, looking from Sam to the strange man who just entered. Sam shrugged. 

“No. No! This is not happening.” You tossed the earrings and rings onto the floor and stormed out of the building with Sam on your heels. He grabbed you by the arm to stop you, 

“Listen, I know it is not ideal but it is just for the mission. I promise, he is going to protect you while I infiltrate the Russo’s.” Sam explained. 

“Who are you supposed to be?” You asked, as Sam let go of your arm.

“I am Arthur Hammond, specialist of fine art. The Russo’s happen to have an extensive exhibit.” He smiled and you sighed. 

Reluctantly, you walked back into the store and stormed straight past the man and into the dressing room. 

“Good job, pal.” Sam remarked. 

“You were dressing her like she still lives behind the wall.” Bucky retorted. 

“She’s from behind the wall.” Sam shot back. 

“Not anymore she isn’t, so she will no longer dress that way.” Bucky replied, the pair were starting to get more intense when you reappeared from the dressing room in a beautiful new dress. 

“Have you seen the price of this handbag? It costs more than anything I’ve ever owned.”

Bucky looked back at Sam with a smirk. This was indeed going to be a rough ride. 

[blissfulip]

can we see your take on a version of machine herald viktor? love your stuff<3

Thank you so much aAAAA and ty for the request!! This us just a concept doodle before I actually make fanart of it 👀

Let me explain my reasoning behind this design:

• First of all, although I think all the designs where he has a metal jaw or just shiny eyes DO look very cool aesthetically, however thinking about Viktors actual purpose I doubt he would enhance parts of his face at random. I do believe the two things that he would find "faulty" in his head anatomy are his eyesight and hearing, so I think that's what he would try to replace first. This design is closer to what I think he would look like in a prototype stage, perhaps between Arcane seasons 1-2 and the final machine herald design, where he has only successfully installed the headpiece on one side!

• secondly, I kept thinking about the mask and it really didn't seem like him to want to "hide" his facial enhancements with a mask while he has the bionic arm and other prosthetics very visible. With that in mind I think the only reason he would want to use a mask would be if he had some sort of disfiguring or scars from failed attempts to install these enhancements, and that's why I added some scars hear the eyes, nose and jaw!

(I think he would also need to shave the sides of his hair to install the hardware, hence the hair length difference on the left side!)

• haven't thought about what I think the outfit/arm prosthetic would look like on earlier stages but I don't think it would be too far off from his og league design so I'll figure that out once I make a full piece!!

Either way I hope you liked my interpretation anon! And thank you again for the request♡

[minecraft666]

Have you seen a boy that is just so? ft him in mikeys clothes after his first shower, him playing chess w Leo (Leo is portaling pieces every time he looks away), baby Casey’s, present day clothing design (tshirt and tank top option), and him absolutely punching a guy that was lightly teasing his friend (crush) because ill be damned if i make a version of casey that isn’t at least a little overkill and aggressive. he’s got apocalypse brain (trauma, bad modern social skills, and overprotectiveness)

I was looking at his design again and for some reason I never really noticed the wrist thing under his glove? I don’t think we see his hands in the movie and it very well could be something like Donnie’s wrist pad and is simply a device for his grappling hook buuuuut as we see in the shot where Donnie accidentally sets the grappling hook off, the grappling hook is pretty chunky and is stored INSIDE this gray thing, which means that it would be inside his arm. Yes this is stylized and is probably using cartoon logic but I’m just gonna choose to believe that it’s actually a cool future donnie built bionic arm

Also I told myself I would only post art when I finished my fanfic but it’s kinda long and taking me forever. Everyone is legally required to look at my boy

[lesbicosmos]

day 3 of @painlandweek !!

day 3 prompt: love confession/first kiss

summary:

charles is slowly coming to realise the true nature of his feelings for edwin, but he hasn't told him yet, out of fear edwin has always moved on. luckily, niko is there to reassure him how utterly wrong he is

notes:

title from my love mine all mine my mitski <33

also on ao3!!

nothing in the world belongs to me but my love, mine all mine

The agency barely had a chance to rest after everything went down in Port Townsend before they were straight back to taking on new clients and solving new cases. It would have been nice to have some time to think and reflect on everything they’d been through, but Charles and Edwin were both happier they were back to their usual routine. Visiting America was fun - when they weren’t in peril, at least – but they’d missed London, missed the comfortable homely feeling of returning to their office after every case.

Their new normal was still different from the old normal, of course. Now, it wasn’t just the two of them – they had Crystal and Niko, too. They’d moved to London after Niko had recovered from what happened to her fighting Esther, and they were both now fully fledged members of the agency. Even Jenny had moved across the pond with them; she’d wanted a new start after the whole psycho-date-murder thing and then the crazy-witch-blew-up-the-family-business-and-tried-to-kill-her-tenants thing. Part of the reason she moved was also because she had grown too fond of Crystal and Niko to let them go – not that she’d ever admit to that, of course. Then there was the Night Nurse, who popped in every few days to check they were working. She pretended not to like the job, or the boys, but they could both tell she was becoming attached.

Their latest case was strange – not so much in itself, but for the group. It was the first case they’d done with only three detectives, since Crystal was busy. She was off attempting to fix things with an old friend, who she had discovered through her memory-marbles that she had hurt whilst under David’s control. The others had offered to go with her for support, but she insisted she did it on her own. She’d been doing it a lot; going off alone to try and make amends with her past. She’d only seen her parents once, though, in the two months since moving to London. It hadn’t exactly ended well: she’d let all her anger out at them, screaming at them for never even noticing that their daughter had been missing for weeks. They hadn’t even apologised, so Crystal just left. She wanted to fix things with them, she really did. But she was hoping for them to reach out to her, to apologise, to try. It hadn’t happened yet, so she’d moved on.

Luckily, this specific case didn’t seem to be one that required Crystal’s abilities. Of course, her presence would have been preferable – it felt like a part of them was missing without her now - but they could still get the job done while she was away. The client herself, a woman named Cordelia, wasn’t actually a ghost – she was alive, able to see ghosts after a near death experience as a child. She had fallen from a treehouse in her garden, which left her with such traumatic injuries she had to have an arm amputated (Edwin had spent several minutes enthusiastically learning about her prosthetic, enthralled by the advancements in modern bionic technology).

She had brought them the case of her wife Faye, who had died of a long-term illness a few months prior. Faye hadn’t been ready to move on – they had only been married a year, she thought they would have so much time left – so she ran from Death. Cordelia had joined her, never wanting to leave her side. They’d settled near London after travelling from Scotland, and had found a new life – or, afterlife in Faye’s case – together. They were happy.

At least, they had been until they had crossed paths with a mage who cursed Faye to be stuck in the most basic form a ghost could take – a bright white orb. Usually, a ghost would take that form after immense stress to recover their energy, but could always willingly turn back. Faye, however, didn’t have that freedom. She was truly stuck. She had, however, figured out how to possess their TV screen, and used it to communicate with Cordelia.

If it had been magic that put her in that position, it would require magic to reverse the effects. Edwin knew this, and told Cordelia such. They had arranged to visit their house in two days, after the three of them had done their research and formed a plan. Cordelia had given Niko her phone number in case they needed any more information, and then left the office.

Charles watched as Edwin spent the next 48 hours with his head stuck in books, trying to find one page he knew existed in at least one of the many in their collection. Charles knew this was going to be a case that relied almost entirely upon Edwin’s arcane knowledge, so left him to it. He did, however, keep finding himself zoning out watching the other boy. He had always been somewhat enamoured by the way Edwin got so hyper-focused on his books. Over the years, he’d memorised his mannerisms: the way his index finger would repeatedly tap the book’s cover when he got impatient about finding one particular spell or piece of information; the crease between his eyebrows when he didn’t quite understand what he was reading; the delighted smile of accomplishment that would appear when he found what he was looking for. Charles was someone who got bored very easily, but he found himself thinking he could watch Edwin just doing his thing forever. That feeling had only gotten stronger since he had realised that his feelings for Edwin might be more complex than just ‘best mates’, and that they might have been that way almost the entire time they’d known each other without either of them quite realising it.

“I’ve got it!” Edwin said suddenly, that relieved and proud smile plastered across his face.

“Brills!” Charles replied, re-associating with the real world.

As it turned out, Edwin only needed to make a potion and say an incantation for the curse to be broken. Within twelve hours of figuring it out, Charles, Edwin and Niko were standing in Cordelia and Faye’s living room. Cordelia was sitting out on the bench in the garden as they waited for Edwin to be ready, Faye’s orb form perched on her shoulder.

Niko and Charles stood in the doorway of the living room as Edwin worked. He was wearing those many-lensed goggles that Charles had begun to find oddly endearing, despite having laughed at them for several minutes the first time he used them. He was pouring some strange glowing liquids together, biting his lip slightly in concentration. Charles couldn’t help but stare at him. Edwin’s lips had been on his mind a lot lately, and he still hadn’t grown quite used to the realisation that he might just be in love with his best friend. It was especially unbelievable since he knew Edwin was in love with him too. Or at least, he had been a few months ago. He could have gotten over it now for all Charles knew, could have taken what Charles said on those stairs at face value and simply accepted that his feelings would never be reciprocated. That was the primary reason Charles hadn’t told him yet. He was scared he was too late.

He kept watching Edwin work, watched him recite the Latin incantation over and over under his breath, ensuring he was getting the pronunciation exactly correct. He watched Edwin’s hands as he picked up the tweezers, grabbing a tiny leaf of some kind and dropping it into the vial. Along with everything about the rest of him, his hands were another thing Charles couldn’t stop thinking about lately. He so desperately wanted to hold them, wanted to feel them sliding up his arms, holding his waist, cupping his jaw-

Charles’s thoughts were cut off when his view of Edwin was disturbed by a pink-nailed hand snapping in front of his face.

“Charles! Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Charles shook his head, turning to Niko.

Had she been talking to him the whole time? If she had been, she showed no signs of annoyance; only smiled at him in a sly, almost knowing way.

“I know that look,” she said confidently.

“What?” Charles chuckled nervously.

“Edwin, Charles and I will be right back,” she said, turning to Edwin, and before either ghost could argue, Charles felt a hand grab his elbow and drag him out into the hallway.

“What was that for?” he asked when she let his arm go.

“I think I know what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“You really think you’re subtle with your staring, huh?” she giggled.

Shit. Was he being that obvious? Had Edwin noticed? No, he was too busy working. Wasn’t he? What if he wasn’t?

“You should tell him,” she said.

“I can’t,” Charles stammered.

“Why not? You already know he feels the same.”

“What if he doesn’t anymore, though? What if he’s like...moved on?”

“Charles, if there’s one thing I can tell you about Edwin, it’s that that is literally impossible. I think he’d still be in love with you in a century, even if you didn’t feel the same.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m not saying you have to tell him, like, right now, but I think you should soon. If you’re sure about how you feel, that is.”

She gave him a look that said she already knew the answer to that.

“Oh. I definitely am.”

He’d spent the last three months trying to figure out if he was sure. And he was. He still didn’t quite know how to tell the difference between loving someone and being in love with them, but if he wasn’t in love with Edwin, then who else? Who else could there possibly be that he could love as much as he did him? There were other things he knew for sure in his heart:

That Edwin Payne was the best person he knew, and that he loved him more than anyone in the world

That he would do anything to keep him safe and happy,

That he literally could not imagine his afterlife without him

That he really, really wanted to kiss him.

Surely that had to be enough? They could figure the rest out as they went along.

“Yeah, I had kinda figured that by the way you were watching him making that potion like he was the prettiest thing in the world,” Niko smiled.

That’s because I think he might be, Charles thought, but didn’t say that out loud. Maybe he’d tell Edwin himself that part one day.

Charles thought Niko must have some kind of magical powers of her own, because within one short conversation with her, he had gone from convinced Edwin had moved on from him to desperate to confess everything. Maybe it was just Niko in general, or maybe it was because he knew how close she and Edwin had become, how comfortable he had been around her. Charles may have been looking at the situation through tinted glasses, but Niko would know the truth. If she was convinced Edwin still felt the same way for him, then he believed her. He loved her for that. Not only for being someone Edwin could open up to and trust, but for being someone he could, too. She just had something about her that made her amazing, and everyone around her felt it. Charles was so grateful to have met her.

“I’m gonna tell him tonight,” Charles stated.

Niko let out a noise that was quite possibly a squeal, and jumped forward to hug him. He hugged back, laughing.

“Oh my god! I’m so excited!”

“Shhh,” Charles shushed her, still smiling. “Don’t want him to know beforehand do I?”

“Oh, of course,” Niko dropped her voice to a low whisper.

“Are you two finished out there?” Edwin called from the living room. “I think we’re ready.”

Charles and Niko walked back into the room, both trying to hide their smiles. Edwin’s glasses were on his head as he brandished the finished potion – a tiny orange vial.

“We simply pour this over Faye, I’ll recite the incantation, and it should return her to her humanoid form.”

“Aces!"

“I’ll go get them,” Niko said, opening the door to the garden and walking out.

When they returned, Cordelia sat on the sofa with Faye in her hands as Edwin explained what was going to happen.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yep,” Cordelia replied, and Faye seemed to grow brighter for a second in response.

Edwin knelt in front of them, shaking the vial one last time before pulling the cork from it. He slowly poured it over Faye and began reciting the incantation in perfect Latin. Charles and Niko watched on in awe.

After the third recital, something started happening. Faye began to glow brighter and brighter until everyone in the room had to look away. When they looked back, the orb was gone and a woman had taken its place, laying across Cordelia’s lap.

“Oh, you’re back!” Cordelia said, taking Faye’s face in her hands and kissing her soundly.

Charles couldn’t help but turn his eyes back to Edwin, picturing themselves in their position – Charles on Edwin’s lap, Edwin’s hand softly cupping his cheek as they kissed. He forced himself out of the moment.

“I’m okay,” Faye replied, manoeuvring herself until she was sitting beside Cordelia instead of on top of her. “Thank you so much,” she said to all three of them, taking Cordelia’s hand in her own.

“Don’t thank us, this one was all Edwin.”

Edwin looked at them, smiling proudly.

“It was no problem, really. That’s what we’re here for.”

“Really, though, thank you. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.”

“Well, I’m just happy we could help,” said Edwin.

With that, the three of them said goodbye to Faye and Cordelia, and headed back to the office with the satisfaction of a case successfully closed.

When they returned to the office, the boys immediately got comfortable, taking off their jackets and relaxing. Edwin sat on the sofa and took out his notebook to finish the case notes, while Charles perched on the edge of the desk. Niko, however, stayed near the door, her pink coat still on.

“Are you not staying, Niko?” Edwin asked.

“No, sorry. I uh…” she realised she hadn’t thought of an excuse to get out of their way. “Crystal… she told me to meet her in town. I think we’re going to grab food so, I’d better go.”

“Ah, I see. Well, tell Crystal we said hello. Enjoy your evening.”

“You too,” she smirked, giving Charles a wink before turning and leaving the office.

Charles rolled his eyes, exhaling slowly to try and keep the nerves at bay. Evidently, he also exhaled loudly, as Edwin stopped writing and pointed it out.

“Are you alright, Charles? You’ve seemed even more restless than usual since we closed the case.”

“Yeah, I’m fine mate,” Charles replied, unconvincingly.

“Are you sure?”

Charles opened his mouth to lie, but stopped himself. “No, actually.”

Edwin sat up straighter.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s just… okay, I hadn’t actually figured out how to say this.”

“Well, please tell me once you’ve articulated your thoughts. Whatever it is, you know I am always here to listen.”

Edwin opened the notebook again to continue writing while Charles thought, but it turned out he really didn’t need that long.

“I think I’ve figured out what it means,” he blurted.

Edwin put the notebook fully down beside him, looking up at Charles. That signature confused crease was appearing between his eyebrows again, Charles noted.

“I’m afraid you might have to be more specific than that.”

“My feelings. The rest. I think I’ve figured out what it means.”

Edwin stood up, taking a step towards Charles.

“Charles…” he said quietly.

“Stop. I know what you’re gonna say. I know you’re gonna think I’m just doing this to make you happy because that’s what I always do but I’m not. This is too important to both of us for it to be something I just pretend to go along with. I mean it. I’ve figured it out, I don’t know how it took me so bloody long, but I think I’m sure now.”

“And what exactly is it you’re so sure of?” Edwin’s voice was slightly shaky.

“I do love you. In the same way you love me. Everything I said on those steps is true, and the more I’ve been thinking about it, the more they just point to the obvious. People don’t go to Hell without even making a plan first for someone who’s just a best mate. But I didn’t even think twice before I did it for you.”

“Charles…” Edwin stepped closer.

“I think I just didn’t really think it was an option ‘til you said it and now I’ve been thinking too much about it and how much I always want to be next to you and how much I always want to watch you just doing your nerdy thing and how much I really wanna kiss you and-”

Charles was cut off by Edwin’s lips crashing into his. His hand moved up to cradle Charles’s cheek, and the feeling was even softer than Charles had imagined. Charles leaned into it, pushing his face even closer into Edwin’s and deepening the kiss. They kissed for what felt like hours before Edwin backed away slightly, instead resting their foreheads together.

“It did not take you forever then,” Edwin laughed breathlessly, and Charles could feel it on his face.

“No. Gonna be honest it didn’t even take me three months.”

“No? Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I thought you might have moved on.”

Edwin stepped back at that, his hand having moved from Charles’s cheek down to his neck, his thumb hovering over his collarbone.

“You…what?”

“I thought maybe…since I told you I didn’t feel the same, I thought you might’ve…y’know.”

“Charles,” Edwin said, his face stern. “There are some things that are simply facts. The Earth is round. You and I are dead. Nothing will ever change either of those things. One of those universal truths is the fact that I am in love with you. Yes, if you didn’t feel the same I would have learned to conceal those feelings, but they would never have stopped being there.”

“Edwin…”

Charles didn’t know what to say. Hearing it from Niko was fine – it stunned him a little, but he could handle it. But hearing it from Edwin himself…god, it was overwhelming. He couldn’t string any words together, so he simply pulled him in for another kiss.

“I love you so much,” he murmured into Edwin’s mouth, and Edwin just kissed him harder.

Charles made a mental note to thank Niko in the morning, before all coherent thought was wiped from his mind by Edwin’s lips.

[impossiblesuitcase]

hii, how are you? I was wondering if you could write something like Cinder being sick or in pain and Kai taking care of her, I've had this in my head for so long!

Drowning. She's back in the water, thrashing her arms for leverage, her ears filling and throwing her balance into a blender. The iciness covers her arms, her legs, her spine. She gasps and splutters, hoping to fill her lungs with whatever she can. Something insidious enters her throat; not water, but noxious smoke. It incinerates the water in its heat.

The lake empties out beneath her. She screams as she plummets but doesn't feel the impact. Her fall is cushioned by the fire that rises up to catch her.

Cinder gasps, limbs clawing to get out of this hell pit when they are pushed back down firmly.

"It's okay, you're okay."

She doesn't know where the voice comes from. Her mind is still coiled to attack, but her body becomes limp. It trusts the voice. Against her will, she allows the elements to overtake her. Somehow, the assuring voice has snuffed out the flames and dried up the riptides.

Cinder wakes in a haze. A hand is pushing hair off her brow and a damp cloth is pressed against her temple.

She instinctively tries to sit up.

"Hey, easy there," says the same voice. "Lie back. You're okay."

His face is hovering above hers when she opens her eyes. "Kai?" she croaks out, almost inaudibly.

"Hi, my love," he murmurs, smiling down at her. "You gave me a good fright today."

She weakly removes his hand from her forehead. It's hot and clammy, and she wants it cupping her cheek instead. When he allows her to move it and her forehead is still burning, she realises that perhaps it's not his hand that's feverish.

"Where am I?" she asks.

He adjusts her blankets and she shivers. "On your ship. I didn't want to move you just yet. Once you're better I'll get you inside the palace."

Vaguely, she collects her bearings. The room is dimly lit and yet still too bright for even her bionic eyes to handle. She forces them to focus. They are in her quarters on the personal ship used for Lunar's Earthen ambassador.

"You've been working too much," Kai reprimands gently. "Going from one climate to another when you're already fighting a cold is a recipe for a fever. It used to happen to me when I was travelling with my parents on diplomatic missions."

A fever. That's what the freezing and burning was. Cinder had felt run-down the past couple of days, and today was going to be her rest day. But she must have collapsed, because her last memory was half-consciously telling the pilot to take her home.

Her crew must know her well enough to know that her home was no longer Luna.

Kai gets some water into her, teasing, "Thank you, by the way, for getting me out of a tedious meeting. Taking care of my sick fiancée is a great excuse."

Right. Kai hadn't known she was coming. He was probably busy. But a muddled Cinder is a selfish one. "Stay with me, please," she begs incoherently, grasping for his hands, "don't go back to the meeting."

She feels a kiss on her fiery skin. "I'm not leaving you, love."

She drifts off again. When she wakes, she will recall how Adri had been so attentive to Peony when she had the flu. Feeding her soup, ensuring she took all her medicines, tucking her into bed with a kiss. Later that week when Cinder caught the same bug, she was confined to her room with an unempathetic "get over it".

Now, cared for and loved and treasured for the first time in her life, Cinder almost wants to stay sick for longer.

--

This is directly inspired by me having covid right now. Which is also the reason it's probably word vomit. I have a fic coming up eventually which delves more into this theme but here's a short fic for the moment.

After writing this I actually thought, sure, Kai taking care of Cinder while she's sick is sweet, but what about Iko taking care of her? Or Cress? Or Thorne? Now that I want to read.