#imagine being so disappointed at a chapter that you rewrite it

[polichinelle]

yeah fuck it i'm making this its own post. basically very long winded (but still not as extensively detailed as i'd like) thoughts on adam & ronan (sort of) & whelk & noah

i remember reading the raven boys back in 2014 (ten years of rot in my brain!) and being sooo disappointed that there was basically zero fandom interest in whelk & noah beyond "omg whelk is evil and awful and terrible, poor baby noah!" when that is not the narrative surrounding them, not really. i feel it's a disservice to both of their characters to do that, especially noah's:

there is nuance there. there are implications. like... it's ALL about the implications!!! we basically see nothing of whelk and noah beyond what's left after the carnage. and it's a theme in trc for characters to have irreparably changed before we ever meet them (gansey, ronan, whelk, noah). we don't know what they were actually like when noah was alive, when they were best friends. when they were tight as ticks.

what we do know is this: whelk was noah's gansey. whelk was cheating on his own girlfriend with noah's, which is a shitty thing to do for sure, but something we also have zero context for. we also don't know how true it is, because whelk has such a self-inflicted warped view of his past. he keeps rewriting his own memories to think lesser of noah, because his absence hurts that much! we know they were best friends, the same way adam & ronan are best friends with gansey. we know they did everything together

okay, changing gears a little.

i'll paste the part where adam is possessed, sorry for the amount of screenshots:

and this line from a bit further along the chapter:

then, from noah's possession scene:

compare this to whelk's recollection of killing noah, and the effects it had on him:

"red lines streaked in the corners of his vision" "in whelk's head, unearthly voices hissed and whispered, words blurred and stretched together" "dictated by something larger and more powerful than himself" "somehow invited into his body through czerny's death" yes i am going there, yes i am making that point. i think, to some extent, barrington was possessed when he murdered his best friend. neither noah nor adam get their own pov while possessed, so...

i mean, time is a circle. noah needed to die so that gansey would live. noah had already died, gansey had already lived. it needed to happen, and so it would.

where the difference lies, i think, is in barrington's reaction to being possessed, versus adam/noah. for all that i'm arguing possession, i don't think barry's a stand up guy, he's a kid who's never had good role models (need i pull out the quotes about his shit parents) and who was raised by money and objects and reputation, which is why i think the possession worked. the idea to kill noah might've seemed like his own in the moment, an escalation of the situation he was already in, but unlike adam/noah there was no one to hold him back (not to mention barrington isn't as familiar with magic things(?) as they are). in that moment, whelk did truly lost it. he did the unforgivable. but there is no universe in which he doesn't.

for every time we see noah reenacting his death, we also need to imagine barrington whelk, seventeen and shivering. realizing as he's committing the act that he can't go back. perhaps realizing too that he couldn't stop his hands from gripping onto that skateboard, no matter how much he wanted to after that first hit. ("But instead, he remembered the sound Czerny made the first time he hit him.")

there's also adam in this. both him as a parallel to barrington, and as a strange sort of part of noah in a way. adam and noah interact the least out of the main group, arguably, but they too are a two-headed creature; they started out as one singular character and you can sort of tell. something something hands and eyes, something something sacrifice. ronan sort of parallels noah, in that he is not the same lively person we hear about, and he never will be that person again. both are cabeswater personified (although in different ways).

some more things:

"he once had been tight as ticks with his roommate czerny" "only whelk and czerny, treasure hunters and troublemakers" "it was possible that czerny's death wasn't for nothing after all" "[...] his days a ribbon floating aimlessly in water" (in relation to: "he had been a swimmer himself, once") "czerny, you're in a better place than me, i think" "whelk, standing in the wreckage of his life, didn't laugh this time" "the dry, half-eaten burger on the passenger seat / the first fast-food burger he'd had in seven years" "these days, when whelk was trying to comfort himself, he told himself that czerny was a sheep, but sometimes he slipped and remembered him as loyal instead" "[...] took him back to that moment, the skateboard in his hands, the sad question gasped in czerny's dying sounds "we were friends like —"

also, whelk dying in the same place noah did. these lines:

both noah and barrington look the same in the end. broken, rumpled, forgotten. noah's family will never know his bones were reburied outside of their family plot. whelk's mother, however distant she is, will never be notified that her son has died. i think in a way barrington died at the exact same time noah did; something something invited into his body through czerny's death.

basically what i'm getting at is, noah and barry could've been ronan and adam i think, had the circumstances been different. they never will be, but i think about it sometimes.

and there's so many more things i'm not even gonna TRY going into, like noah and whelk both being parallels to gansey (the three of them kings in their own right), or the disparity between whelk talking about czerny vs adele talking about noah, or whatever the fuck is going on with whelk's backstory in general (what's the deal with his mother? how the hell did he get the aglionby job? a random headcanon of mine is that his and noah's search for the ley line lead them to fox way, seven years before the events of the book, and that's partly why whelk refuses to give out his name to maura, because barrington is hard to forget, and easy to trace back)

there is so much to talk about here and i'm so peeved no one is doing it properly... why are we still talking about declan bringing his weekly girlfriend over to monmouth for no reason when we could be talking about whatever the fuck kinda soul-fate-destiny bullshit noah and whelk have!

[scarlet--wiccan]

Do you consider Vision a bad husband for Scarlet Witch? Could one say that their relationship was doomed from the start?

And while breaking the pairing up is one thing, do you think Byrne rewriting the Twins as Figments of Wanda's Imagination and making her mentally unstable in the proccess was too cruel to Wanda?

No and no, to the first two questions. Wanda and Vision were great together. They had to overcome a lot of adversity to build a home, a life, and a family together, but those challenges did not come from within their relationship-- it was mostly other people's prejudices and the inherent struggle of life as a superhero. And they succeeded-- they got their happy ending, and it's a really special story to me. Things only took a turn for the worse because of A) editorial and authorial intervention; and B) outside forces manipulating and violating them both. If Vision hadn't been made to lose his identity and emotions, they probably would have stayed together.

Do I think Wanda's treatment in Avengers West Coast was cruel, and in many ways, kinda sexist? Yes, absolutely. They really went out of their way to lay both her and Vision very low, and I think it's sad and disappointing that these characters weren't allowed to maintain their happiness. But if I'm being honest, Wanda's poor treatment in the 80s pales in comparison to how she was treated in the 2000s. She was given the opportunity to fight for and reclaim her agency, and she came out the other end with both her dignity and moral integrity intact. The narrative, ultimately sympathizes with Wanda-- she's a victim and a hero. And while the stuff with the babies was technically a retcon, the story at least tries to justify it and actually build on top of Wanda's established lore.

House of M does the opposite-- she's treated as a monster. The text identifies her as a victim of circumstance, if nothing else, and robs her of any agency, but it also condemns her for it. Through the actions of every other character, it encourages the reader to hate Wanda for having a mental breakdown resulting from a lifetime of trauma and powers she didn't ask to be born with-- poisoning popular perception and frankly encouraging ableism & racism amongst readers and critics for years following. And it totally throws continuity out the window!

So, yeah, Byrne treated Wanda poorly, but I kind of have a hard time getting mad about it. It didn't do lasting damage. In hindsight, it feels like a grim, but necessary chapter in her history-- neither she nor her powers would be what they are now without it, and we'd probably never get Billy and Tommy as they are now, either.

[pascaloverx]

Rewrite The Stars

Chapter Ten

Summary: One photo changes your whole life, when you accidentally bump into a celebrity and the world starts to believe that you are a couple.

Notes:

In this chapter, we have an extra character, whom I'd like you to imagine as the actor Enzo Vogrincic. And for those who enjoy the fanfic, I appreciate if you reblog or like. Thank you to everyone who is following the fic.

chapter nine chapter eleven

Dinner is too quiet. It's as if everyone is afraid to say something. Your mother is keeping an eye on Pedro Pascal as if he were a criminal suspect. Enzo is watching you like he wants something. 

"Are you planning to marry my daughter?" Your mother asks between bites. Her pie is still in her mouth when you almost choke upon hearing the question she posed to Pascal. He, in turn, takes a good sip of wine, trying to find a good answer.

"Your daughter and I are exploring what the future holds for us. Marriage isn't out of the question, but right now our priority is to be each other's partners." Pedro responds, then takes another long sip of wine. He may be an actor, but he seems somewhat unsure at the moment.

"And how does this partnership work? She's unemployed, with no prospects for the future, being exposed to the world of fame as a scammer, and you, my dear, are working and getting rich. It doesn't seem right to me." Your mother says, staring at Pascal. You feel like you need to put an end to the situation.

"And I lost my job but I'm looking for another one. Not to mention I had savings, and I'm not living off what Pedro earns. Mom, I'm sorry, but my life with Pedro is only our business. You may like it or not, but I won't leave him because it doesn't seem right for us to be together. And I also won't go back to being with Enzo. He's handsome, probably a man you've always dreamed of for me, but he's not what I want. I want to be with Pascal. Whether you believe it or not." You basically defending your relationship with Pascal. And the Oscar should be yours because your mother seems to have believed everything. Maybe even Pedro is believing in what you're saying.

"I hope you know what you're doing. Leaving the sure thing for the doubtful one at your age could mean living the rest of your life alone." Your mother replies, and you feel apprehensive. She's not entirely wrong about this, but you have an agreement with Pedro and you will fulfill it.

"Mom, I hate to disappoint you, but Enzo isn't my person. He's not even close. He's attractive, yes. Have you seen his face? He's extraordinary. He's a good person, yes. Maybe one of the best people I've already met. But he and I have no chemistry. Do you want me to prove it? I taste you." You almost scream and get up going towards Enzo. You impulsively kiss him. And you regret the moment you do it. But in your defense, it's the only way to get your mother to stop all this. A kiss that is neither too long nor too short. Enzo's lips are so soft as much as you remembered. But really between you and him, there is no chemistry.

"I'm not sure if this is the best way to convince your mother, but I'm at your disposal if you want to try again." Enzo says as soon as we break the kiss, and you feel embarrassed. You gently step back from him while observing Pascal's face, who is sitting in front of you. He seems angry. But you're not sure if he's not pretending.

"Before my daughter takes any other impulsive action, I'd like to say that I got the message. You must really be crazy about Mr. Pascal. To the point of kissing your ex in front of your mother and him to prove that you no longer have feelings for your ex." Your mother says and takes a sip of wine. She seems embarrassed. Yay, you ruined dinner.

"Despite disapproving of the way my girlfriend chose to prove that she has no chance of getting back with her ex, I must say that I am also crazy about her. Not to the point of kissing Enzo, but I trust that your daughter and I, Mrs. Y/M/N, have something special." Pedro says, sounding a bit upset but maybe it's just in your head. He gently holds your hand and you both lock eyes, perhaps to convince your mother.

"I think it's time for me to leave. It was great seeing you again, Y/N. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Pascal, I'm a big fan of your work . I'll see you, Mrs. Y/M/N, at church." Enzo says, getting up and heading home. In the moments that followed, you finished the meal, and your mother even tried to wash the dishes, but you and Pascal insisted she go to bed. Before retiring, she stopped near both of you while he was washing the dishes and you were clearing the table.

"Despite everything that happened here, I hope you two will be happy together, for however long this real or fake relationship lasts. Obviously, the guest room is available for you both. There's a double bed in there, but remember that this is a respectable house and you're not married. Have a good night." Your mother speaks, seeming more convinced of your relationship with Pascal. You both bid her good night, and then you're alone in the kitchen.

"If you want, I can sleep in my old room and leave the guest room for you. I'm sure my mom will believe that we're respecting the sanctity of this house." You speak, watching Pascal, who doesn't seem very pleased.

"If I were Enzo, would this conversation even exist?" Pedro asks, dropping a nearly clean plate into the sink and appearing irritated. You don't quite understand why he's asking that.

"Is this about the kiss?" You ask defensively. It seems Mr. Pascal forgot that we're not really dating.

"Of course. You kissed your ex in front of me. And now you don't even want to share the bed with me." Pedro says, trying not to raise his voice, but you can tell he's pretty upset.

"Mr. Pascal, I have to say that from where I'm standing, it seems like you forgot that this isn't a real relationship and that it's not fair for you to demand anything from me after our last conversation where you talked about boundaries; if you're so afraid that I'll cross boundaries beyond a fake relationship, how can you be here complaining about a kiss?" You speak, getting closer to Pedro, who seems a bit confused.

"What does it matter? Isn't that what a boyfriend should do? Tell his girlfriend not to kiss her ex in front of him? Ask her to sleep beside him instead of in another room?" Pedro speaks, and you feel a little happy. He's almost too cute while arguing with you.

"So all you have to do is tell me that you'd like to sleep with me and that you prefer I don't kiss other people while we're falsely together." You say as you stare at Pedro, who is no longer washing dishes. In fact, he's coming towards you, and then he gently grabs your waist. You're surprised, but too enchanted to ask questions. And then you close your eyes, waiting for a kiss.

"I want to sleep with you, and I would like to be the only person you will kiss while we're together. Satisfied?" Pedro asks, and then he kisses you. And you know you could kiss him for a century and still feel butterflies in your stomach. It's as if he has a power over you.

"Satisfied." You respond between kisses, and then continue kissing your fake boyfriend. In the middle of your mother's kitchen, while the two of you are doing anything but pretending to be attracted to each other. At the beginning of all this, you thought only you were in trouble, but it seems Mr. Pascal also doesn't know how to avoid catching feelings.

tag: @wanniiieeee , @hungrhay and @leilanixx

[florencemtrash]

The Wisp Between Worlds

CHAPTER TWO: THE GIRL AND THE WOLF

Acotar fanfic/rewrite. Inner Circle x OC. Eventual Azriel x OC.

Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?

Warnings: None for this chapter that I can think of, but expect angst, death, and sadness in the future.

Masterlist

________________

THIRTEEN MONTHS AFTER THE GIRL ARRIVED

The village people still whispered when she passed. With her strange features and unknown origin, coupled with the depressing lack of gossip in their small town, rumors spread like wildfire.

“She’s a high fae that appeared in the dead of night to Jaskiel Klavier,” Edna Evans whispered to her many sons, the youngest of whom still clutched her skirts in the marketplace so he wouldn’t get lost. “She promised him immortality if he would hide her in the moral realm. Can you imagine?! Even the fae are terrified of their own lot. Stay away from the creature.”

Others guessed she was Jaskiel’s bastard daughter, born to a mistress on the far east side of the continent who’d risked everything to reunite Nora with her rich, merchant father. What shame and disappointment the girl must have felt when she found out Jaskiel was penniless. 

The only rumor that pleased Nora was the one that labeled her a foreign-born royal, hiding in their small town close to the wall to escape assassins. The people who believed that were the ones most likely to leave her alone.

Still, none of their theories could come close to the ridiculousness of the truth - that she was really a being from another world, an unfortunate accident that had slipped through a rift in space-time and landed unceremoniously in the Moral Lands south of Prythian. As far as interdimensional beings went, Nora was incredibly boring. 

The trip through the rift had been brutal. To her it felt like years, maybe even decades, had passed with her body in a constant state of drowning. She’d been stretched into spaces both infinite and infinitesimal in size. When the pressure on her body had finally ceased she’d found herself cradled in silt at the bottom of a pond. With just enough strength and sanity left to emerge from the murky waters, Nora had dug her fingers as far into the loose and wet soil as they could go and promptly passed out. That was how Jaskiel and Dinah Klavier found her - soaking and swampy amidst the katniss plants.

“Ignore them, dear,” Dinah laid a hand on the small of Nora’s back as some of the townie boys sneered. Tommy Blicker, the blacksmith’s son, grabbed her arm roughly as she passed. His sturdy fingers were strong enough to support the dozens of iron rings he sported. His flat lips turned down when Nora didn’t react. 

Nora’s frown was deeper, eyes the color of strong coffee narrowed at the boy. Dinah slapped his hand away, giving him a deadly glare before he stomped off to rejoin his friends.

Iron, everyone in town wore it or had it concealed somewhere on their person: iron buttons, iron rings, iron necklaces. Even Nora wore iron in the form of two bracers on her wrists. But that didn’t stop people like Tommy Blicker from harassing her. She couldn’t imagine his disappointment when she hadn’t run away from him screaming. Everyone knew iron burned the fae.

The only ones who didn’t wear any metal at all were the Children of the Blessed.

Dinah steered Nora away as two of their cloaked members stepped into their path, preparing to intercept them.

“May the Mother bless you,” they called out in weak and wispy voices, waving a thin stack of papers in their hands. 

The stream of villagers on their way to the weekly market parted around them like water around stone. The shorter one with chestnut brown curls peeking out from beneath her hood caught Nora’s eye and immediately bowed, the other following shortly after.

Nora cast a wary eye towards the Children of the Blessed.

“They’re nothing but a bunch of religious fanatics. No need to pay attention to them.” Dinah’s lips tightened as she saw Nora fold in on herself, ducking her head as they continued on their way to the market. Nora instinctively pulled up her hood, wrapping it tightly around her head to keep the Children of the Blessed at bay. They’d snipped off a lock of her hair three months ago. It was such a small action - she hadn’t even noticed them at first - but more violating than anything else she’d experienced. She imagined them passing her hair around in their secret circles, scheming about what piece of her to take next so they might finally cross the wall into Prythian.

“Have you heard back from the other villages? About my letters?” Nora asked, trying to ignore the Children of the Blessed as their eyes followed them down the road.

Dinah sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry dear. No one’s heard of your sister, Feyre.”

It was a lie she’d told Dinah and Jaskiel when she first met them - that she’d been separated from her sister after being kidnapped by slavers and taken across the sea from the Continent.

In truth, the only sibling Nora had was an older brother - charming and dead after being struck by a drunk driver 6 years ago. She tried not to think about her parents sitting in their now empty house - it hurt too much. 

Where was Feyre Archeron?

Someone must know about her. 

She lay awake at night dreaming about finding her and following her to Prythian. Perhaps one of the High Lords or ancient creatures there would be able to send her home.

Nora eventually split off from Dinah, shouldering the potato sack that held her beaver and rabbit pelts while her adoptive mother bought their weekly supply of food and medicine. Whatever money Nora was able to make would go towards buying Dinah a new pair of shoes. The current pair were flat as string and barely thicker.

Moriarty’s shop was as stocky and brick red as the man who owned it. Smoke curled its way out of the chimney, carrying with it the scent of blood and newly cooked meat. It made Nora’s mouth water. Her stomach clenched painfully - a feeling she was growing accustomed to. Gone were the days when all it took to solve her hunger was a walk to the kitchen or a drive to the nearest grocery store.

A stranger stood outside Moriarty’s leaning against the brick wall and fiddling with a thin, iron knife in her hands. Her silver-streaked hair betrayed her age, even though her body was as sturdy and immovable as a mountain. The hilt of her broadsword peeked out from behind her back and Nora tried not to stare at the angry scar that ran the length of her cheek, pulling at her jawline like someone had tried to trace her profile.

“You’re the fae girl, aren’t you?” The woman called out. Her voice held the reedy twang of the western villages.

They’re nothing but a bunch of religious fanatics. No need to pay attention to them.

But this woman didn’t look like one of the Children of the Blessed. 

“Excuse me?” Nora froze in her tracks, tightening her grip on the sack.

The older woman pushed herself off the wall, towering over Nora’s small frame and looking her up and down with a dissecting gaze. 

Nora jerked back as the woman flung out a leather hand, yanking her cloak down so she could get a look at the girl’s ears. The curve of them was distinctly human. Nora grabbed at her hair, flattening the locks against her skull so they couldn’t be snipped off.

“It’s just as I supposed - not a fae. Not at all.”

The woman’s eyes caught sight of her sharp cheeks - too sharp for a girl as young as her - and the gaunt brown eyes staring back. Strapped to her back was an old, weathered bow, far too large for someone of her size to handle. Concealed within the folders of her cloak was a quiver to match. The woman counted three arrows inside of it, the tips blunt and stained with blood. 

“You hunt?”

“...yes.”   

“Do you hunt well?” The girl’s eyes sharpened, lips turning downward. They seemed almost designed to frown.

“Well enough.”

“Beavers, squirrels, deer, maybe - if you’re lucky.”

She beckoned her closer, gesturing for Nora to open the sack so she could look at her meager offerings. There were 4 beaver pelts and two rabbits, already skinned - a decent hunt… but would hunts like this help her get through winter? Already the snow was sticking to the ground, covering tracks as quickly as they were made.

“I’ll give you 100 copper for the lot.”

Nora almost barked out a laugh. She was hoping, praying, for 40 from Moriarty - and that was if he was feeling generous. 100 copper… that would last them for a month. If they were careful - and they knew how to be careful - they could stretch it an extra week. A month… another month to wait for winter to come and pass them by. Hunting to save, not hunting to live until tomorrow.

“What, you want more?” the woman cocked an eyebrow.

“No!” Nora blurted out, “I just mean…” she hesitated. No one in their right mind would pay that much, “I’ll take it.”

Her heart pounded like a hammer against her chest as the woman carefully counted out 100 coppers, slipping them into a small leather bag and dropping it into Nora’s outstretched hand. She immediately picked out a metal piece at random, inspecting it for counterfeit marks.

The woman huffed, “My money is true, girl.”

“I’ve been told that before, ma’am.” Nora said, daring to be polite. Her voice was as clear as a songbird. “I mean no disrespect.”

“No. You’re just careful.” Nora handed over her bag to the strange woman, legs eager to run towards the grocers and find Dina. The weight of the coppers grew heavier by the second. 

“Girl,” the woman said sternly, hands back to the iron knife, “Don’t go out into those woods any more. It’s not safe.”

Obviously. Beyond those walls Prythian waited like a feral dog itching for release.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t not go.” What choice did she have? With Jaskiel ill at home and Dinah already working herself to death, how could she not? “I’ll take my chances.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, brilliant blue irises gleaming colder than the air around them. She pulled a single arrow out from her own quiver - paler than any Nora had seen before - and thrust it into the girl’s arms.

“Ashwood,” she said, answering Nora’s unspoken question, “Use it well.” 

With the faintest smile the woman walked out onto the main roads and disappeared into the crowd of townspeople. 

Nora waited a few moments for her heart to slow its beating before walking as quickly as she dared towards the grocers to find Dinah. Her eyes had grown to the size of dinner plates upon hearing of the money she’d earned. They worked to lessen the weight of coppers in Nora’s pocket, ordering Dinah new shoes from the cobblers and getting an extra supply of medication for Jaskiel before rushing home to hide the rest of the coins in the shredded upholstery of Jaskiel’s chair. 

Hunting to save, not to survive. 

For the first time in eight months, Nora felt some rush of relief enter her body. 

>>>

Use it well.

Nora repeated the words to herself as she stalked through the forest, a slender arrow notched in her bow. Not the ashwood arrow. No, that was far too valuable for her to waste on the doe she’d been tracking for hours now, carefully following its narrow footsteps in the snow before it could be covered over. Normally she preferred to leave the females alone. Killing them now would only make it harder to hunt in the future. But now… now Nora didn’t have a choice in the matter. Jaskiel wasn’t getting any better, if anything the cold was making him worse. He’d never fully recovered from the illness that had ravaged the village three winters ago and his legs remained bone-thin and twisted. Every night the frost seemed to linger at the edge of the door, waiting to breathe death upon the man she’d come to see as an adoptive father in these strange lands. Nora needed to hunt if she wanted them all to survive. It was this fear, this most basic need to live that had driven her further into the woods than she would normally dare go.

It was early morning, the sun’s light beginning to pool over the earth like a bleeding wound. The cold seeped through her coat and her boots - both hand-me-downs from Dinah - and she felt that familiar twist of hunger in her stomach. There had been no time to waste this morning as she set out from the dilapidated cottage on the edge of town, ready to dive into the shadowy woods that called her name. It was hard not to think about where she’d been only eight months ago - sleeping in her own room with central air to keep her toasty in the winter and cool in the summer. There were no such things in the Mortal Lands. She wondered if there ever would be.

Somewhere in the distance a branch rustled, cutting through the crisp, clean silence. The creature was coming towards her. Nora immediately strapped her bow onto her back before clammering up a tree. The bark was frozen beneath her fingertips, cutting through the thin wool gloves she’d saved up money for last month. But still she found every crack and crevice to latch onto, her body moving through the branches with hardly a rustle. She settled into a crouch, knees pressing into the nook between two branches as she squinted her eyes, searching for the doe’s tan coat to appear against the snowy backdrop. She could hear it now, the faint crush of snow being disturbed. 

There.

The doe slowly emerged from behind a thicket, shaking off the thin coat of snow that had accumulated on her back. Black marble eyes peered out and, seeing nothing, continued on her way through the woods.

Nora notched her arrow, holding her breath as she pulled back against the taut bowstring. Her breath ruffled the fletching.

Come on. Come on. Just a little closer.

The doe stiffened, head jerking up so that Nora could see its eyes widen. Before it could bolt she let the arrow loose. The doe stumbled as it ran, the arrow lodged in its neck when she’d been aiming for the eye. It bleated in pain, running back into the thicket and disappearing from sight. 

Nora cursed, clambering down the tree and taking off after the creature.

It couldn’t have gotten far, but then again if it ran too close to the wall she’d have a hell of a time dragging its body back to the village. 

She followed the trail of blood like breadcrumbs, the pull of hunger dragging her legs forward even though the beginnings of a headache flashed behind her eyes. Finally she found the creature laying in the snow, labored breaths slowing into nothing. Her relief was short-lived, however. 

There was another hunter in the woods today. 

Lurking in the shadows of an elm tree, sniffing the air and licking its lips, was a wolf. Its dusty-gray body was taller than a fully-grown man, shimmering coat catching the light as its tense muscles rippled beneath the skin. Something about it felt… wrong. She’d never seen a wolf before, couldn’t judge whether it was the right size or whether the magic of this world made them different. But a voice whispered in her that it was different, special.

Nora had three options as it stalked towards her, acid green eyes sparkling with power: run and hope she could outrun it long enough to climb a tree, shoot the wolf, or die. Only one of those options would guarantee her a meal and as her stomach clenched painfully once more, her choices narrowed.

She swiftly pulled out the ash arrow and drew her bow, holding her breath as she aimed. 

Use it well. Use it well.

Staring down the shaft she saw the wolf gaze at her, a familiar human emotion crossing its inhuman face. It took Nora a moment to recognize it. Relief. Relief flashed across its face. Nora froze as it tilted its head to the left, exposing its neck to her. 

This was a familiar scene - the huntress and the wolf. She’d read it in a book once in her old world; a book about a human woman who’d been stolen away to an eternal spring in Prythian.

No. No. This can’t be real. But the wolf didn’t disappear as she lowered her weapon and walked as close as she dared. His sharp, intelligent eyes continued to stare at her. 

“Faerie… that’s what you are. Isn’t it?” The wolf snapped his head towards her, green eyes widening. 

“Do-do you know Feyre Archeron?”

A flash of recognition and a growl from deep in its throat was all Nora needed in confirmation. Wherever Feyre was she wasn’t here in the human realms to continue this story, not in the way it had been written. A flurry of excitement, strange and fiery, rushed through her body. She didn’t know why she’d been brought to this world, but she did know that whatever answers existed were waiting on the other side of the wall.

She drew her bow. “I’m sorry.” Nora said, hoping it would provide some comfort to the beast, before she let loose her arrow, straight into the wolf’s right eye.

It took her hours to drag the deer carcass back home, even with the makeshift sled cutting trails through the thick snow. The wolf she’d left behind for whatever, or whoever, came for it. 

“Nora?!” Dinah rushed out of the house as the young girl emerged from the tree line, sweat lining her skin and slowly freezing there. She gasped at the doe Nora dragged behind her.

The small cabin was a flurry of activity, the scent of blood and flesh filling the air as Dinah made quick work butchering the doe on the kitchen table. They’d dry some to keep in the cellar and sell the rest at the market today.

Nora sat quietly next to Jaskiel, damp hair slowly drying in the heat of the fire, as he sipped his tea and munched on a crust of bread. Her own empty cup lay abandoned on the floor by his seat. It was an old armchair that smelled faintly of mildew with wooden legs that had been chewed upon by all manner of insects and mice, but he sat there like it was a cloud made of the purest silk. Anything that got him off his feet was a welcome reprieve from the chronic pain in his legs.

“Thank you, child.” Jaskiel said, his smile tinged with sadness as he gently ran his fingers through Nora’s hair, untangling the knots. He offered her the remaining half of his bread, which she initially declined. 

“Come now, Nora. You need to eat to keep up your strength. I can’t imagine the lengths you traveled today.”

With some hesitation and a bow of her head, she accepted the meager morsel, chewing it slowly so that it softened in her mouth. Even when the bread was gone the taste lingered behind, sweet and comforting on her tongue. 

Her eyes remained trained on the door as night slowly descended upon the village.

What have I done?

________________

Author’s Note: And here is Chapter Two! I recently came out with a masterlist for this fanfic because I plan to continue writing this extensively. Here’s to hoping I figure out my work and writing schedule so I can start posting consistently. Thanks for reading! As always please feel free to reach out and let me know your thoughts!

[justapanda]

Rewriting Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 236

Needless to say, chapter 236 has sparked a lot of criticism. So, to keep a long story short, I've rewritten chapter 236 to try minimise some of the common issues people have with the chapter, issues that I also personally share.

I've kept a lot of the dialogue the same, but I've added some major tweaks that I believe would drastically improve the execution of this chapter. So if you're one of the ones who are disappointed with chapter 236, I hope you also find this rewrite to be an improvement.

Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 236: Go South

-- Page one --

[Narration text: Gojo stands victorious?!]

Gojo: Well, it's time to get this over with, any last words?

Sukuna faces Gojo with a serious demeanour, struggling to stand upright.

Sukuna: Hmph.

Sukuna: Just one.

Sukuna aims his only remaining arm directly towards Gojo, gesturing his hand in the shape of a knife.

Sukuna: Dismantle.

Gojo smiles arrogantly as Sukuna, in an act of desperation, resorts to using to his default technique in an attempt to harm him.

However, as Sukuna releases his attack, Gojo's smile immediately vanishes, now replaced by a bewildered expression.

-- Page two --

The scene transitions to Gojo's imagination, where a younger Gojo is seen sitting at an airport, wearing the same bewildered expression.

Geto: Yo, Satoru.

Gojo: Blegh!

Gojo: You're kidding me. This sucks.

Gojo sulks, leaning back on an airport chair.

Geto: Pretty rude thing to say after seeing someone's face.

-- Page three --

Gojo: I've always told my students, "when you die, you die alone", so please tell me this is just some stupid dream.

Geto: Does it matter?

Gojo scratches the back of his head in irritation.

Gojo: *Sigh* And I was gonna tell Megumi about his dad too...

Gojo: But I guess I asked Shoko to handle that.

Geto: So, how was the king of curses?

Gojo: Man, he was pretty damn strong. I got the feeling that he had more tricks up his sleeve too.

-- Page four --

Gojo: I wonder how different the outcome would've been if Sukuna didn't have the ten shadows technique.

Geto: It's weird to hear you talking like this, he must've been really strong, huh?

Gojo: Still, I kinda feel sorry for him.

Geto: ?

Gojo: I know all too well, the loneliness that comes with being at the top. There was always a gulf between me and everyone else, even if they adored me.

Gojo: You can admire a blooming flower, but you can't ask it to understand you.

-- Page five --

Gojo looks down at his clenched fist.

Gojo: I really gave it my all to beat him. All my physical training, the techniques I'd mastered. My explosiveness, quick thinking and attempts at humour. I put everything into it, but it still wasn't enough.

An image of Sukuna's cold gaze is shown, surrounded by shadows.

"The loneliness that comes with unrivalled strength. The one who will teach you about love is-"

Gojo is shown with a melancholic smile, still looking at his fist.

Gojo: I had fun.

-- Page six --

Gojo: I couldn't push Sukuna to his limit though, and I think that's sad.

Geto rests his head on his hand.

Geto: I'm jealous. You at least had the satisfaction of going out with a bang.

Gojo: Satisfaction, huh?

An image of an older Geto stands smiling amongst Gojo's friends as they see him off before his final battle.

Gojo: Maybe I would have been satisfied, if you were there to give me a slap on the back as well.

Geto faces down with his eyes shut, still resting his head against his hand, he smiles.

Geto: Heh heh.

-- Page seven --

Gojo: At least I got to die against someone as strong as me, instead of being stuck in that stupid box forever.

Unknown voice: What are you, a samurai?

Gojo is surprised by a familiar voice and looks behind him to see a younger Nanami and Haibara sitting right behind him.

Nanami: Seriously. You should know it's in poor taste to think like that in the present.

Gojo: Huuuh?

Nanami: Then again, that mindset of yours is probably why you outlived me.

Haibara: You and Gojo-san just miscalculated a little bit.

Gojo reaches behind to annoy Nanami by grabbing his head. Nanami tries to wave Gojo's hand off him.

Nanami: I remember once asking Geto why we couldn't just leave everything to you.

Nanami: After all, you didn't care much for jujutsu sorcery, or for protecting people, it was mostly just a game for you.

Gojo appears to be mildly offended by Nanami's blunt criticism.

-- Page eight --

Haibara: Truth is, we all thought that about Gojo-san! But we couldn't bring ourselves to say it out loud.

Nanami: Why are you bringing it up now then...

Haibara: Sooorry!

Nanami: Well, that feeling about you...

Geto: Was just proven right by your actions a second ago.

Gojo looks unnerved.

Gojo: ...

Nanami: Can't say I approve, but I do sympathize.

Gojo: Yeah, yeah, thanks. And how do you feel about your demise?

-- Page nine --

Haibara: Ahhh, I kinda butted in back then...

Nanami: Curses can bring people back to life. The same way sorcery can.

Nanami: I once asked Mei-san about where I should go to live.

Nanami: She said if you'd like to become someone new, go north. If you'd like to return to who you once were, go south.

-- Page ten --

Nanami: Back then, I didn't hesitate on choosing south. I've always looked at the past, so I found it ironic when I died betting on the future.

Nanami: As final moments go, it wasn't bad. I'm grateful to you as well, Haibara.

Haibara awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

Haibara: You're too kind!

Gojo looks down again with a faint smile.

Gojo: I see.

-- Page eleven --

Gojo looks up and spots principal Yaga nearby.

Gojo: Hey, principaaal! 'Thought ya said no jujutsu sorcerer dies without regrets!

Yaga: *Sigh* Even in death, you're too loud.

Gojo laughs with everyone, including Riko and Kuroi who are also shown nearby, and Toji can be seen walking by in the distance.

-- Page twelve --

Gojo walks over to the airport window and looks up at the clear blue sky.

Gojo: I do have one regret though. All you guys will have to take over for me now. Sorry Megumi, it'll be in their hands now to get you back.

Images of Gojo's students are shown as he thinks about each of them, causing him to smile with hope.

Gojo: That's okay though, after all... I have faith in everyone.

Gojo continues to stare at the sky before he closes his eyes.

-- Page thirteen/fourteen --

The scene transitions back to reality. A double page spread shows Gojo's upper body, lying on the ground, staring at the same clear blue sky with lifeless, half-open eyes. Blood can be seen flowing from his mouth as well as being splattered below the upper half of his body.

-- Page fifteen --

Everyone who was spectating the battle is shocked and speechless at what has occurred. Yuji and Yuta are seen particularly distraught. Maki places her arm on Yuta's shoulder as she looks on with a serious expression.

Yuji: Gojo Sensei!!!

Shoko's unfinished cigarette falls from her mouth.

Shoko: How...

Kusakabe: That shouldn't be possible!

Kashimo: It's time.

Kashimo is seen turning away and walking briefly before disappearing from the room at lightning speed.

-- Page sixteen --

Sukuna: Mahoraga's adaptation begins after the first attack. Then it takes time to analyse. Completing adaptation is only a matter of time.

Sukuna: If it receives another identical attack during that calculation period, the adaptation will accelerate.

Sukuna: Once a technique has been adapted to, the analysis doesn't stop there. It continues to adapt further.

Sukuna: What I wanted from Mahoraga was a "model". A model of how to cut through your infinity.

-- Page seventeen --

Sukuna: At first, Mahoraga was altering the nature of its own cursed energy in order to neutralise and nullify your infinity.

Everyone who was watching the battle from the room stands up, still watching, unsure of what to do next.

Sukuna: That was something I was unable to do, so I waited. I waited for Mahoraga to discover another adaptation to counter your infinity, one that I would be able to imitate.

Sukuna: The second adaptation was exactly what I was looking for. Mahoraga was sending slashes like my own, but these slashes could bypass your infinity.

Sukuna: I theorized that Mahoraga was expanding the technique's target. That the target of these slashes wasn't Gojo Satoru, but space itself. Therefore, it could cut everything within those slashes.

-- Page eighteen --

Gojo's entire body is revealed, showing his upper body lying on the floor while his lower half remains standing. It becomes clear that Gojo was cut in half from Sukuna's attack. Gojo's body is covered in blood.

Sukuna remains standing, facing Gojo as he continues his explanation.

Sukuna: As long as you existed within space like everything else, your infinity was powerless to stop my attack.

Sukuna: Even after being shown how it was done, I wasn't sure if I could replicate it myself, so I had to make a gamble.

Sukuna: After being backed into a corner, I waited for you to drop your guard and give me an opportunity. Then, I put all my focus into recreating that attack.

Sukuna: It proved to be an effective model after all.

-- Page nineteen --

Sukuna smiles with satisfaction.

Sukuna: But I have to admit, this is truly the furthest I've ever been pushed. Well done, Gojo Satoru, you have my respect. I won't forget you for as long as I live.

Hearing these words, a faint smile can be seen from Gojo's bloodied mouth. Sukuna turns away.

Sukuna: Now then...

Kashimo can be seen rushing towards to the battlefield from the distance.

Sukuna: I'm in a good mood. So you better entertain me.

[Narration text: Kashimo, the thunder God, dashes toward near-certain death.]

-- Chapter end --

[dontlikeconflict]

Part two

This is part two to by s11ep13 concept rewrite, was supposed to be a oneshot but i couldnt leave it be, so now its got two chapters, this will be the last one though! hope you like it

AO3 LINK

PART ONE ON TUMBLR

The drive to the bunker was thankfully uneventful. The fear that Sam would bring their conversation back up, or somehow act differently toward Dean constantly stuck in his mind, but the first half of the drive was thankfully uneventful, filled with the usual noise of music pushing from Baby's speakers filling the air between the brothers.

But as the drive went on for longer and they got closer to home, to where Cas was, Dean had something he had to ask.

"Sam... you -" he felt so awkward verbalising it, like a teenage girl bringing up a crush "you're not gonna tell Cas, about..."

He let the words trail off, knowing neither of them needed him to finish the thought, a demon had provided them with undeniable proof that Cas was Dean's "deepest desire", it was indisputable.

"Dean..." Sam said it in that long drawn out way of his that meant he was disappointed, right now Dean really couldn't bare his baby brother being disappointed in him too. "I won't tell Cas, of course."

there was a 'but' at the end of that, and despite the long pause they both felt it there, waiting against a back drop of Led Zeppelin

Dean got tired of waiting. "But?" he sounded like a petulant child, but he couldn't bring himself to care about being mature or level headed right now, the miles between them and the bunker lessened.

"but... you should, tell him" Dean could tell Sam was looking at him, but he deliberately kept his eyes on the road, allowing the feel of the wheel in his hands to ground him.

He thinks over a million replies in his head:

'are you an idiot Sam?' 'why the hell would I want to do that?'

And the more pitiful: 'How do you think he'd react?' 'Do you think he feels like that? about me?'

He goes for a combination of a few of his ideas "what? Sam are you an idiot, what exactly do you think that will do?"

Dean bitterly imagined Cas sneering, leaving the bunker, looking toward him in disgust; but then resigned himself to the much more likely reality. Castiel's pity, his care. In the most painful way he could give it, he would give Dean that look that said he couldn't even begin to understand how he felt, let alone return it. He would be gentle, and kind, in the kind of awkward way that would only work coming from Cas, and it would rot Dean from the inside, out.

"Honestly Dean? I don't know. But I know that Cas is family, he cares about you, about us. Nothing good can come of you bottling all this up forever"

Sam was still looking at him, Dean was still refusing to look back. He refused to accept any kind of logic from his smart baby brother, what he was suggesting couldn't be worth the pain it would bring into their lives. But he couldn't vocalise that, couldn't tell Sam just how much the rejection would tear into him, so he just said "you know me Sammy" forcing a smile. Because Sam did know him, Sam knew that if he could it would stay bottled, for as long as he could bare it.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The bunker without Sam and Dean felt slightly less like home to Cas, but it still was comforting to have a place to reside, a place to go back to at the end of the day. Cas liked the kitchen and the long hallways, he liked not being forced into poorly decorated motel rooms (although some may say the bunkers décor left something to be desired) and he liked having a place he belonged.

Cas had found home in his relationship to the Winchesters, in a way that felt realer and more significant than anything he had ever had before in heaven. And in some way, the bunker was a physical manifestation of that. It was home, it was the kitchen where Dean made his sandwiches, and had even made pie for Cas once when a storm hit and the trip to the nearest diner was too risky in Baby (a resilient car, but not one necessarily built for extreme weather). It was an apple pie and although Cas still didn't really enjoy eating a lot of foods, he smiled as he ate his slice of pie, even as the slimy texture of cooked apples filled his mouth. All because Dean, stood in the kitchen with his own slice of pie, half eaten before Cas had even finished his first bite, looked so proud of his creation.

Weather it was a trait Dean would associate with himself, he loved to support others, not just protect them, but support. Make them food, keep their needs well met and a smile on their face. He was a carer at heart, and that's what kept the smile on Cas' face as he swallowed the (for him at least) unsatisfying pie.

And Cas would never tell the brothers this - he feels they would be upset - but when he was alone in the bunker he often loved to go into their rooms. He would look at how they placed things, or what objects they seemed to give more space to than others. Both of their rooms were clean, clothes folded the same way, but Sam's desk was cluttered with the most currently relevant lore, and the shelf above littered with non-fiction books. Dean's desk was devoid of lore, but almost always had some kind of weapon gracing it, with two larger guns mounted on his wall. But if you looked in the cubby beneath his bedside drawer, and Cas did, you would find 4 different novels by Kurt Vonnegut: Slaughter House Five, Cats Cradle, Slapstick and The Sirens of Titan. Cas has been gradually reading them all when there is downtime between cases. He knows he could get his own copies rather easily, but he finds something charming about flicking through the same pages that Dean has flicked through, finding certain passages underlined, or certain pages still dog eared, despite Dean finishing the book long ago.

Cas is drawn out of his musing by the door of the bunker opening, Sam and Dean has been on a case for the past day or so, but they hadn't required his help at any point, so he didn't know the details of it, and after spending the day alone he was eager to hear the details, so he moved towards the main room of the Bunker where he saw the brothers making their way down the stairs, duffel bags in hand.

"Dean, Sam" he said in lieu of a greeting, it was Sam who replied

"Hey Cas, how's it been, no disasters while we've been gone?"

"Not that I've noticed" Cas was aiming for a joke, and Sam gave a slight smile, but Dean didn't laugh like he'd hoped. Cas still found jokes to be a hard thing to navigate. When he tried to make them they often got him a confused or bewildered look, but often when he wasn't trying to joke he would get laughter, it was confusing.

Dean finally spoke up with a brief "well I'm gonna..." and gestured towards his room as he left, barely looking up.

Cas turned to the younger Winchester instead "How was the case?" he has been bored while the boys were gone, and curious on what he missed out on

"Oh, it was fine, turned out to be a Qareen, creature that transforms into your deepest desire" he half looked at Cas, as if looking for a reaction "Dean kept it distracted while I had to fight the woman who summoned it"

"I've heard of Qareen before... you stabbed its heart?"

"Yup, just before it got its hand in Dean's chest" once again Sam was giving him an odd look, as if examining his expressions, like he was waiting for him to get a hint.

"Dean was... fighting the Qareen?" the real question, if Dean was faced with his true desire, was one that was left in the air, implied.

"Yep." Sam was busing himself with his phone now, trying to seem disinterested, although his fingers were moving back and forth, as if scrolling through the same set of texts over and over.

"Do you..." Cas cleared his throat, suddenly feeling sheepish "do you know what form it took?"

At this Sam's eyes looked at him keenly, as if seeing right through him to his intentions, but still Cas held his gaze, waiting for Sam to reply

"That's something you'll have to ask Dean" and then he abruptly left, striding toward his own room, and leaving Cas alone again, feeling significantly more off balance than he had before the brothers arrived.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean travelled light, so unpacking his bag took mere minutes, and then he was left alone with his thoughts. Alone with the knowledge that Sam and Cas were out there together. That even though Sam said he wouldn't, he could, at any moment, tell Cas everything. Tell Cas that his deepest desire is for Cas to love him, a terrifying and painful vulnerability that made Dean feel sick to his stomach. Things that only you know are one thing, you can shove them down, ignore them, deny them. But to have proof of it, to have someone else knowing it too; the truth becomes infinitely harder to ignore.

A knock on his bedroom door broke him out of his thoughts, but only brought a further lurch of panic when who it was settled in. He allowed himself to turn to stone in the face of it.

"Come in!" he busied himself with clothes he had already folded and weapons he had already checked, as he heard the door open behind his back and Cas silently step inside the room, closing it again behind him. An act that, while Dean felt the way he did, seemed like a trap.

"Dean" he said in the same way he always said it, too sincere, too tender for just a name. Or maybe that's just how Cas speaks, maybe that's just what Cas' voice sounds like to Dean.

"Hey Cas" Dean hoped his voice was devoid of any tenderness, hoped it was casual and nothing else when it held the angels name "Didn't blow up the bunker while we were gone?"

"Its a bunker... I would be more likely to blow up myself than it"

Dean let a puff of air, barely a chuckle, escape his mouth. Too tense to really laugh. "Just an expression buddy"

"yes..." Cas seems like he wants to say more but instead he lingers at the door, refusing to leave while Dean refuses to turn to face him. There's a long stretch of silence, until Cas says

"Angels don't really desire things"

This causes Dean to finally turn, a shirt, folded then unfolded, still in his hand "what?"

"I do... desire things, obviously. But when I was in Heaven, before I met you and Sam.... what I knew and understood was God, my fellow angels, my orders. I was a soldier, and I didn't truly think about myself. About what I wanted for myself, or even what I wanted for others. It was about what God wanted, or at least what we thought God wanted. So, when I raised you from perdition" a small smile raised at the corner of Cas' lips at his phrasing, they both remembered when he first said it. "I found you very confusing, very... singular. The only kind of 'desire' I understood was the desire to follow, to worship. And as I began to stray, I saw that in you Dean"

Cas paused here, clearly not done with speaking but thinking on what he wanted to say, carefully. Dean was glad, because he had no idea what to say, where he was going with this, all he could do was hope, and hope and hope.

"We are very different, I know that, but we were both soldiers, are both soldiers. And I know that desire is not a good trait in soldiers, to want, to feel, it's not always rewarded" Cas pauses and looks almost mischievous as he says "One of the main effects of war, after all, is that people are discouraged from being characters"

Dean, despite all his fear, laughs "Cas are you quoting Vonnegut to me? You sure know how to woo a guy" The laughter let the statement slip out, but as soon as it was free panic found its way back in. The urge to literally slap himself was palpable.

Cas didn't look panicked, or uncomfortable, like Dean had feared, I suppose he had said more outright things before, but his emotions were running high and it felt like everything he said could lead to his ruin.

"I wasn't aware it was that easy to 'woo a guy'" Cas joked back, he looked pleased with himself for the quote

"well you know me, I'm easy" Dean might as well dig himself a deeper hole

A silence stretched out between them and Cas' smile slowly shrunk into a more neutral expression "Dean"

He said it again, the same way, so tender Dean felt it like a pull in his chest. He felt it so strongly he let himself reply with even a hint of the vulnerability that Cas seems to ooze "Cas."

Cas lets his head tilt slightly as he observes Dean, the same way the Qareen did as it told him that it understood his longing.

"Sam says you fought a Qareen today"

The weight of what coming feels near physical and all he can allow himself to do is a brief nod in return. Refusing to allow this to be easy for Cas, if this was going to be forced out of him then sure as shit it was going to be like pulling teeth for everyone involved, not just for Dean.

"Qareen transform into what you most desire." Cas said it despite them both knowing this, despite it being established, he said it because he wanted Dean to say something. Dean just stared.

A sigh pushes its way from Cas, and he looks almost tired "What form did it take Dean?"

And there it was. Trust Cas to phrase it in the most blunt inescapable way possible. The way he said it made it feel like he already knew the answer, like lying was impossible.

"Don't make me say it Cas" Dean sounded like a broken man, like a dog preparing to bite, and yet Cas didn't flinch in the face of it, he never did.

"Please, Dean" said without any of the devastation clawing at Dean's throat, weather this was a good or a bad thing he couldn't tell.

Despite what everyone thought, Dean knew when to give up. He knew that he had to say it, say what just a day earlier he never thought he would even acknowledge out loud, he forced himself to look directly into Cas' eyes, a kind of self punishment, and he spoke.

"It looked like you." a better man would cry, but Dean knew he sounded angry. "trench coat, blue tie, 100% angel of the lord. It looked at me, just how you're looking at me right now and talked about shame and desire ..... and love" he swallowed a lump in his throat "and then it used your hands to try and tear out my heart. Probably would have worked better if I actually thought it was you but... I'd know you anywhere Cas" it was supposed to be light-hearted but it sounded too raw

Its at this point that Dean has to turn away again, hoping Cas would allow him that kindness at least. He felt his shoulders stiff, his body tense, almost as if he was waiting to be hit, but of course as usual Cas surprises him, like he so often does

"You were the first thing I ever desired."

Dean wanted to look back, but he's afraid if he did Cas would disappear.

"I felt so alone in the world, and when I looked at you, despite all your flaws, I saw the best of humanity. I saw how much you loved, how much you fought for what you loved, and I not only wanted to be like you... I wanted to be one of those people you fought for, I wanted to be loved by you"

Cas always moved quietly, but in the room his footsteps sounded almost deafening

"To know you, Dean Winchester, has been the greatest privilege of my long life" a hand is placed on Dean's shoulder, slowly turning him to look into Cas' tearful expression "to be loved by you, is my greatest desire"

The breath that releases from Dean's chest feels like dying, like letting go. This Cas may well be the Qareen, because it felt as if his heart had been gripped and pulled straight from his chest, and now in his last moments of consciousness his body was floundering. So it goes.

Cas' hand moves from his shoulder to cradle Dean's face, holding him like something precious.

Dean knows he should say something, something real and true and important but all he can get out is "me?" he sounds like a lost child.

But Cas is smart, so instead of replying, or asking for more of Dean, he does something more simple for him, he pulls him in and kisses him.

For all his fear, of queerness, of his feelings for Cas, nothing has ever felt more right than the moment Cas' lips touched his. A relief that washes through his body, and for a moment he lets himself feel loved, desired, free. A tear leaves his eye and falls onto both their faces, not so monumental if they share it, not so scary. So when Cas pulls away Dean lets himself speak "I love you Cas"

And he may be imagining it, but it almost looks like Cas' eyes glow when he replies "I love you, Dean."

[bonkhrnyjail]

hey gang, i did want to make a little announcement on here instead of just deleting everything with no explanation, so here goes:

i've spent the last couple of months heavily debating whether or not i should continue to write/post sweet plum. before pedro, the last time i was in a fandom space was back in 2011-2015 with 1d. i was a kid, and at the time it was commonplace to write fic about celebrities. i started writing sweet plum as an outlet for the absolute incomprehensible ravenousness i developed for pedro after watching the last of us and spiraling into the type of all-consuming obsession i haven't experienced since middle school. i started writing it in april 2023, started posting it to ao3 at the suggestion of my friends in june of 2023, and started posting it here as well at the request of a mutual who wanted to read the story. i joined pedrotwt in december 2023, where i pretty quickly learned that writing fic about pedro is very, very frowned upon.

at first i felt pretty defensive about it. i thought back to my old fandom days and how this switch in mindset felt like the complete opposite of what was encouraged in those days. i felt like i had a right to create what i wanted to, and knowing that i had a small but loyal following on ao3 made me feel more justified about continuing to write and post the story. i think a small part of me knew there was some validity to the concern, but the part of me that had worked so hard on the story and had developed such an intense connection to the character kept me in denial.

a few months ago i decided to take a break from sweet plum and try my hand at writing joel miller. i became pretty fixated on what i was writing, and didn't even open a sweet plum document for almost two months. when i decided i should start chapter nine, i found myself feeling uncomfortable and uneasy writing about pedro himself. i think taking some time away from the story really helped me gain some perspective, and made me realize that it is quite invasive to write fic about real people, especially someone who i love and admire so much. i wrote about him as if i knew him, and though i doubt he'd ever see the story, i can't imagine what running across something like that would feel like. if it were me, i'd probably feel pretty damn violated.

so with all that being said, i have decided to take the story down. i am considering a possible rewrite with dieter taking the place of pedro, but i am still unsure. i want to apologize to anyone who may have been upset by my writing and express that i have learned from my mistakes and will only be writing about characters from the pedroverse from this point onwards. i also want to apologize to those who were following the series, i understand the disappointment this may cause, especially considering the lack of body diverse fics out there. i am going to keep writing, and i will write more for us plus-size folks out there. i promise i'm not leaving y'all high and dry.

thank you guys. xoxo.

[klausinamarink]

Find the word tag game!

i’ve been tagged three times?! hell yeah! thanks @flowercrowngods @sidekick-hero and @penny00dreadful

Rules: search for 5 words in your wips and post them in the sentence(s) they appear, then tag other people with 5 new words.

my words: 1) fresh, despise, flat, warning and suppress (good ones, Sam!) 2) heavy, heart, breathe, chest, hurt (lovin’ the angst night flavour, Dio) 3) breath, hair, smile, fingers, blue, love (fantastic choices, Sandy)

your words: pastel, tooth, confidence, penetrate, interest

tagging next (no pressure!): @ghosttotheparty @thefreakandthehair @theheadlessphilosopher @momotonescreaming

fresh

He froze. The entire back of his hand was coated with fresh blood. Then he realized that his nose was still dripping, some red drops splattering on his new pants.

despise (couldn’t find it anywhere)

flat (Robin being taken to Russia)

“Steve?” She whispers. Or tries to. Her throat is so dry that her voice doesn’t even come out. She squints through the bag, trying to dissect the silhouettes. None of them have large fluffy hair that seemingly defines physics (seriously, Robin had seen Steve’s hair flattened after the Russians threw him on the ground and it had gone back up in a poof some minutes later despite the blood and sweat drenching the locks) or hands on their hips. They’re all too broad and tall and short-haired to even resemble him.

warning (from The Locked Tomb au!)

“Your posture’s off. Too stiff. You held your sword like it’s an axe at the start.” Without warning, Wayne pulled his rapier back and smacked the end of the pommel at Steven’s sternum. Eddie felt the pain secondhand as Steven almost kneeled over, only for Wayne to pull him upright again. He lightly tapped the blade on the Third cav’s shoulder and said, “Point to the Ninth.”

suppress (don’t have it anywhere, sorry!)

heavy (from my Wendigoon does a video about Hawkins fic)

Secondly, while Eddie Munson was twenty years old and in his third senior year at the time, he wasn’t particularly strong. Like yeah, some students said he could push away the jocks easily and his friends had mentioned he could lift heavy amps and boxes, but he wasn’t that strong. Because to even cleanly break a bone right in the middle on your own requires an insane amount of arm muscle. Let alone, all four limbs, each one broken in three or four different places. 

heart (second part to Robin in Russia au)

The tugging continues. This time, Steve is pulled back, fingers slipping away from the photo. His heart shoots up in a panic and he grabs the photo again. Someone is screaming NO, NO, NO, each word making a noose around his parched throat. Then Robin’s ripped into shreds, some of the pieces stuck to his shaking, sweaty hands. Her smile is gone.

breathe (Robin in Russia)

Robin breathes slowly, careful not to alert the Russians. The roaring grows less intense. Then the pressure returns to her ears as the ground starts to tilt downward, less threatening than earlier. She yawns silently again and her ears pop.

chest (from my s3 rewrite)

Annabelle barely had time to turn around when something plunged deep into the front of her chest and neck.

hurt (for the next chapter of Eddie and Will in the Upside Down au)

Or at least, he makes an intimation of a laugh. It sounds just as broken as he feels. His throat is clogged up and rusty, the muscles scraping at each other like nails on chalkboard. Every part of his body hurts.

hair | smile (including both since they’re in the same paragraph)

“If your cavalier is that much of an embarrassment, then would it not be the same for you, Princess?” Eddie barely held down the smug smile crossing his lips as she stiffened. “It would be a shame if, on your first real duel outside of your House, you turn out to be a disappointment of a necromantic heir who can’t even flick a bone speck on my hair. I cannot imagine the scandal.”

fingers | breath (doing the same as above)

Then inexplicably, Steve bowed his head and pressed his lips against Eddie’s hand. It wasn’t on the bones of his knuckles or the back of his hand or even his fingers. Instead, he kissed on the space between the first and second knuckle. It was the most ordinary and random place to kiss one’s hand, but yet it took Eddie’s breath away.

blue

Blue eyes. Freckles. Wavy dirty blonde hair. Smiling.

love (the Eddie and Will in UD next part)

He wants his uncle Wayne to scoop him up in his arms and hold him tight, murmuring gruff words that are always full of safety and love.

[miyu-writings]

100YQ rewrite happening when :////

Oh my, I don't think I have the ability to pull it off. 😬

Firstly, I haven't read that manga so far - my stance is slightly in the realms of "it might be better to not touch it with a twenty feet pole" 😅 - and I've sort of been accompanying watcher-ofthe-sky's journey reading it. They've been reading the three Mashima works (Rave, 100YQ and EZ) and it's not being an easy task. Mashima is so disappointing... which sucks!!

I'm honestly unsure if I could do something with it though. Given my gratsu admitted bias and the one-dimensionality that currently corrodes the characters (seriously, the infamous scene with Natsu asking what's a library??? What has Mashima done to my boy????). But the no homo and lack of interactions (I imagine) between the boys will probably make it harder.

Then again, it's probably me being a masochist but, you got me thinking... should I dare to try some chapters and see if something (more to my taste *cough*) could come to be?

I shouldn't... my goal for this month was to finish the first story of a current series! 😂

What should I doooo! 😂

[jandjsalmon]

2023 FFRC - February ❤️

HELLO everyone! I hope you had a wonderful February! It was a short month so there were slightly fewer stories to read and there was this ghost show that came out (you might have seen it flood your dash) that needed to be binged over and over again so we get a season two - but I still found moments to curl up with some favourite fics and I hope you did too! I was pretty focused on crossing off fic challenge tasks so I felt less enjoyment in my reading as usual. I hope this next month will be better.

Throughout February, I had a surprisingly large number of new followers (a substantial number of whom are not bots - shocking, right?!) and though I'm not sure how you all found me, I'm thrilled to have you here (and happy to see that you're real people and not bots).

As most of you know, I'm a regular participant (and low-key assistant) at the @fanfic-reading-challenge - additionally, for the last couple of years, I've been tracking all the fic I read and I've reported back here once a month with some stats and some recs, and a little bit of boring stuff about my life. (Or not boring - like traipsing after my daughter and her basketball team as they work their way to Provincials - their record is 22-4 so it's a possibility! Go Spartans!)

ANYWAY - I'm always looking for new fic recommendations, so if you have any stories you think I'll love, please drop me a line or send me a dm. Almost any pairing and any fandom. Shoot me a link!🖤

February 2023

As I said above, I've been plugging along on the @fanfic-reading-challenge. This month I've cracked 3million words and completed 143/309 tasks which means I've completed the "Regular" mode of the challenge. I'm working on the "Hard" mode so I need to do some searching for fics with minorities. Do you have favourite stories with minorities in them? Most of my fandoms appear to be a little lacking in that department - or at least I never think about it (like Inej is a woc - but I forgot about that until right this second). Anyway - I need to branch out - so any suggestions would be great!

As for my recs for you! Let's look at what I did read this month that you might enjoy. Try these:

--*--

Violent Delights by @ozmathegreatand (Wenvier - M 4/4)

Summary: Romeo and Juliet is far from her favorite Shakespeare play. (That honor goes to Titus Andronicus, of course.) But the crypt scene is achingly romantic, particularly the part where Juliet stabs herself. Few of the Bard’s heroines subject themselves to such violence in the name of passion. She wonders what practical effects the drama department has access to and imagines the torrent of blood she could rig.

Why you should read: Valentine's Day. Romeo and Juliet is being performed by the drama department and Romeo Xavier's costars keep meeting untimely ends. SUPER jealous (and hilarious) Wednesday. Mutual Pining. Shenanigans. This is Super Hilarious.

--*--

What Doesn't Kill Me Makes Me Want You More by sciencefantasy93 (Lucy/Lockwood - E 8/8)

Summary: It was all her fault. All her fault. He was losing his damn mind, and it was all because of her. One move, one second, one heartbeat, and his world crumbled apart like a warm cookie.

Or: Lockwood realizes he's attracted to Lucy, which sets in motion a chain reaction of events as he and Lucy try to take the next step without actually talking about their feelings.

Why you should read: The first steamy Locklyle fic that I've ever read and it did NOT disappoint. Very VERY in character - but also hot? Super good.

--*--

Chrissy and Eddie’s Infinite Mixtape by @little-scribblers-heart (Hellcheer - E 26/26)

Summary: Eddie was right when he told the Hellfire kids that there's no shame in running, which is why he takes a running leap to grab for the floating cheerleader in his living room.

OR: Chrissy lives and fixes what the Duffers broke.

Come for the canon-close Season 4 rewrite, stay for the explanatory chapter notes and the healing.

Why you should read: Epic in scale. Well researched and emotional without being sappy and trite. I should have known it would be amazing because it was a rec from my girl @feelavalanche - who has NEVER steered me wrong in over 10 years of fandom friendship. There is even a chapter named after David Bowie. See - you need to read this.

--*--

Hope is a Waking Dream by @writeradamanteve (Lucy/Lockwood - M 1/1)

Summary: Nightmares, dreams, it was all part of the agent package. Oh, and tea. Always tea.

Why you should read: FIRSTLY (and I shouldn't have to say this to long time followers) - It's adamanteve. You should read it because she wrote it - that should be good enough. Everything she writes is amazing. But then. SOFTNESS. The characterizations are THEM. Their mannerisms are real and their voices are beyond perfection. Comfort and lovely and wonderful. Read it!

ALSO - as I said last month, you should read and then subscribe to the_retro_witch's entire Sweet Nightmare series. It's a post-canon universe where after Crackstone's defeat, Wednesday and Xavier get together before they leave school and now it's grown into this amazing saga with mystery-solving soulmates and psychic and witchy amazingness. The other characters are developed and the plots are rich and fun. It updates pretty darn regularly and every word is a delight. Honestly. Read the series, you won't regret it. Let it be your first foray into Wenvier if you are on the fence. Don't be on the fence. Come ship with me! 🖤🖤

(lastly- I'm a little bit in love with this gif of Xavier waving - and I've been purposely flooding my dashboard with Percy for reasons - so the wave might become a theme for my year).

Anyway -👋🏼 Hiya -I'm happy you're here! I hope you have a wonderful March and I'll see you back here in a few weeks! Happy reading! 🖤

[wireddless]

Hope your are well. How is your writing going so far :)

hi hi hiiii! you guys are gonna be so disappointed but i havent touched my google docs in months now. i just started nursing stuff and got a really nice job and i have just been so monstrously busy. im saving to move out of state again so as you can imagine i have been GRINDING like crazy.

thats not to say i havent been trying to brainstorm through these requests and whatnot. i have a few ideas saved, but trying to get the pen to paper has been proving near impossible. im not a teen anymore unfortunately and now the lack of time and puberty hormones has caught up to me and ive had to slow writing (if any of you had my wattpad in 2018 youd know i could drop a 3k word chapter a week like it was nothing)

i really do love and appreciate all of the positive feedback, and i swear to god im trying.

currently the priority list is;

Snow requests

stranger things

sum Star Trek stuff

rewriting a john mulaney fic (from being a teen on wattpad)

revising and editing codeine scene to fit my personal standards and feel less weird now that im an adult

a brand new JM fic

loki (marvel) fic drafting

i love love LOVE you guys sm and i hope your lives are all going so well. in case i never post my writing again (worst case scenario) i will keep up everything and upload them to ao3 eventually. <3

[fishedeyelenz]

To be fair! In your dilf billy fic, I couldn't help but read it from a character's prescriptive, not from a (self insert) perspective.

My advice (unsolicited I know) If you want to change the fic. You might as well. Yeah it's nice that people feel like they can insert themselves into that situation, but your writing is so well thought out. It'd be impossible not to be able to empathize with the main character/heroine.

To avoid confusion, you can always change the character/perspective in a different fic, instead of changing your original fic. There's no shame in not finishing a personal project. No one's paying you or compensating you for your time. Only shame you should feel is disappointing yourself. And not doing what YOU want to do, just to please others ❣️

Hmmm all good points here, I'll take this into consideration. Yeah it's the same for, in every other fic I've written I either saw like an un-creature as a reader or my own self insert lol, so I have no problems with my other fics being like that

How I approached is is like "I'm gonna imagine myself but 20 years older" and that might've been the case at first, but now I feel like the MC truly took a life of her own, and I feel like I'm doing her a disservice. Especially sine I am most likely gonna add more original characters, and we already have some in the moment, so I feel like the fic feels... unbalanced? with that? Definitely feels unfair to the MC if you get what I'm trying to say.

If I were to rewrite it I would take the current version off of ao3 and edit the chapters to change the perspective and include the character name etc. Which is I think easier said than done lol but ultimately manageable. It might be for the greater good.

I'll see, I might experiment with the current chapter I'm writing by writing it from a third person perspective, with MC included as a character. Then I'll see

Thanks so much for your thoughts on this, it means a lot <333

[cocotaetae13]

Ooh I really like Tae's chapter! It's so good! What's a demon's favor? It's a different, special bond? It seems to have a lot of power for both sides but maybe more so for a human. Since Tae can feel more pleasure because of it. I like and dislike that she isolated Tae. Loneliness sucks :/ Does Tae know that she did all of these things? He was so cute until he turned on her omg. The switch was hot again. I got surprised again since he really seemed to submit to her lol I wonder why her feeding seems to run out faster with the others, but it's easier to feed with Tae. Is it the demon's favor? Why did they try/plan to overfeed her? I feel like it could be to try to weaken/break her mind? Hm idk. Did she heal from her fingers breaking and the overfeeding results like immediately? And Yoongi next??! Yay! He's my bias so I'm looking forward to it. I can imagine some of his vices a lil.

-🖤

Hi Dark-Heart Anon!

Yes, a demon's favor is a special bond! I think of it as when a demon likes something in the manner of a child or a pet. Since demons are supposed to be these cruel entities, wouldn't it be something special if one liked you? Or it could be a nightmare, depending on the demon. I wanted to give off the feeling MC finally admitting to herself that she isn't actually just soft on Taehyung but actually favors him and allows herself to want him, want to please him, and maybe want her as well.

Taehyung doesn't know these things yet but it is starting to dawn on him that a significant amount of his pain may have been due to her influence. I'm happy you found the switch hot and were surprised by it! I may have to go back and rewrite J-hope's chapter and add a switch if this is what the audience wants lol. I was worried about it being too repetitive! Yes, feeding from Taehyung is easier for MC because she favors him, so she's more willing to try other avenues with him than with the others who she can feel like it's a chore.

Agh I want to tell you so badly about the feeding/overfeeding aspect but it's going to come up in the next chapter! Her fingers breaking was just a small injury so she was able to heal immediately when she clenched them to pop them back into place. Demons have to be pretty hearty given the nature of their existence, hehe!

Oh Yoongi is your bias? I will have my work cut out for me then. I hope I don't disappoint you! I'll take my time on it so look forward to it!

Thank you for taking the time to read my story and share your thoughts <3

[bastillewolf]

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

 ***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

 ***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 2- Together We Stay

Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS) 

Summary: After learning that you’re on a national watchlist from the exposure of Hydra, and seeking the only other person who’s lived a life like you have. Now you and Bucky adjust to being around one another in Romania.

Warning: big fluff, SMUT, more fluff i promised

Masterlist

5 weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since you’ve been allowed to stay with Bucky in his little one bedroom apartment in Bucharest, Romania. Fortunately for you, he’s kind enough to let you take the shit excuse for a bed while he claims the hardwood floor on the opposite side of the room, just about every single night. That’s just how its been, through true at it is, either one of you could handle sleeping on stone, but this bed is admittedly nicer, and you’ve got someplace to stay for the time being.

And Bucky.

He’s a quiet type for sure, keeps to himself, only really speaks when spoken to or when asking if you want something from the marketplace. But you’ve begun to witness first hand how he’s kind, funny in his own right, and respectful of your space and body within the time that you’ve had the chance to really know him. Which is more then most could say while you’ve been on the run in the past, from authorities and the Winter Soldier alike. 

Most days the two of you wander the various streets of this large pleasant bustling city, watching for any signs of danger or an odd person out of place as you go about your day. Other times the two of you would go hiking to the outskirts of Bucharest where no one could be of a bother, there, the two of you would spar each other for hours. Gotta keep alert, he’d always say. 

When he did speak.

But the nights when the city was sleepy with brightly beaming stars blanketing overhead, now those became your absolute favorite. You and your new found companion would spend those hours playing cards against one another, lasting deep into the wee hours of the morning when the sun was just barely rising into the sky.

Although as of late, Bucky has begun to speak more and more to you, even just yesterday when you shit talked some cheap vendor who was being very persistent as he wanted you to buy his ugly scarves, Bucky cracked a smile. Maybe even stifled a laugh. If you weren’t so invested in messing with the annoying little man, you would have seen the way Bucky’s eyes trailed adoringly over your mischievous face.

Maybe you would have seen how the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement as you flipped the guy off and practically swaggered away like the coolest person he’s ever met. Too bad you didn’t, but you would have loved to have seen it. Even for just a moment.

That’s what it’s been like recently between the two of you, small fleeting glances here and there, friendly nudges when you’re walking out in the park, and more time spent laying side by side with one another after an excessively intense workout session. Granted you’re sprawled out in the dirt and grass, sweaty and appearing like you just ran through a dust storm, but next to Bucky, things feel pleasantly different.

It’s strange, you can’t remember the last time you’ve actually felt comfortable around anyone since your mother, but that was a very long time ago. And she’s dead, and you’re not.

Unlocking the apartment door, you quickly turn the faded golden knob and walk into the dull sunlit room. The windows are covered in thin faded newspapers for the dying sunlight to struggle through, as this appears to be the only real source of efficient lightning since all lights are currently turned off. Though you can see well enough due to your body’s enhanced vision, small perks of the serums mutation that made you.

It’s almost 7pm on this cool breezy evening as you walk into Bucky’s apartment, shutting the door just as swiftly; letting your black cotton trench coat slip gracefully from off of your shoulders, you kick your boots off next before walking over to the kitchen and setting the coat on the back of the old wooden chair.

A tired sigh escapes from your parted lips as a sudden smirk begins to break out upon your sleepy face, “James.” You muse with a genuine smile as you turn to face your mattress for a bed, and the man sitting on it, “Nice to be greeted when I come back.”

He hands you an apologetic look before swiftly rising to his feet, “Just making sure you’re paying attention.” He quips with the flash of a grin, “You passed.”

“Alright smartass I brought you a sub from that little coffee place.” His cheeks dust pink as you hand him the sandwich from out of your bag, God he loves your accent, Bucky hands you a pursed lipped grin as you wink, “Just how you like it, old wet lettuce, a chunk of rat, and a moldy bun. Your favorite.”

He lets out a breathy snort as you practically swagger over to the fridge, opening it up to grab two beers before finding yourself a chair right across from him. “Here.” He quickly accepts your thoughtfully brewed offer of friendship, “Drink up Barnes it’s a new day tomorrow and we’re still kicking.”

He watches as you laugh before popping open the glass and taking a hearty chug, a small yet joyous grin pulling at the corner of your lips after you set it down again.

“To another day.” States Bucky before doing just the same.

Soon enough the two of you find yourselves seated comfortably on opposite sides of the old mattress with cards in each of your hands. A solid look of determination and fake suspicion on either of your faces as you stare each other down.

“Got any fives?” Asks Bucky with a raised brow as you simply roll your eyes, then biting your lip while you watch as he tucks a stray tuff of dark hair behind his ear.

“Fuck you.” Slips from your mouth as he bursts with the sweet sounds of laughter, his cards fall from his hands as you throw yours at his stupidly attractive yet winning face. Dammit you could have won.

“I can’t help that you’re a sore loser Y/N, I’m just that good.” Brags Bucky as you throw him a deadly glare.

“Whatever. It’s nearly 4am I’m off my game tonight.” You retort, shrugging as a yawn approaches right on cue.

Bucky glances at the wall clock before looking back at you, an tinge of disappointment lacing his soft voice, “Right. I’ll just head over to my spot then...”

Rolling your eyes yet again, you gently slap his folded thigh before he can attempt at leaving, “Awh come on Buck, you’re back has got to be shit by now. Let me sleep there tonight okay, it’s only fair.”

“Y/N I’m fine, seriously.” Admits Bucky kindly as he shows the flash of a smile, “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

Your teeth press firmly against your bottom lip as you think of how to thwart his stubborn mind, soon you look down to pick up some cards, “No, we gotta take turns. And don’t say “I’m good” because if you go over there I will have no choice but to fight you.” Words wrapped in sarcasm, you lay it on him, yet your face appears to flash with something different. 

“Fight me? You’d fight me for the shitty hard wooden floor?” Asks Bucky in bewilderment as you simply nod, agreeing to your last stated truth.

“See! You even admit it’s shitty.” You exclaim with a humored laugh while shaking the cards in his beautiful face. Y/N don’t you dare think about it, stop flirting idiot.

“Well...yeah.” Mutters Bucky as you both suddenly sit in an awkward silence, nothing heard except for the wind as it rattles against the old windowpane. You both are breathing a tad more heavily from the teasing argument a couple seconds ago, but now, some unseen yet intrusively felt emotion shifts the air. Is this what you think it is, or does your underlying feelings for him just like fucking with your better intuition.

Something is afoot, however your mind still doubts it. God he can be so hard to read sometimes.

Bucky’s blue irises flicker from you, to the floor-like-bed across the room and then back to you again, conflict clear in the way that his face shifts apprehensively, suddenly he moves to stand, “Wait.” You command with urgency, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks, curious eyes on you in a second.

Letting out a nervous breath, you decide to make sure he gets some proper rest for once, “Just sleep on the goddamn bed.” You deadpan as his face keeps unusually stoic, his body as still as a statue before without so much as a warning does he swiftly lean over and immediately crash his lips to yours.

Within seconds the cards are left for tomorrows cleanup as they flutter to the hard ground, completely forgotten as he presses a metal hand onto the bed for some stability while his lips move sweetly against your own, his flesh one positioned comfortably against your left jaw and partial cheek.

The shock you feel quickly gets shoved to the back of your mind as your hands immediately begin there exploration as they sift through his long dark hair. He tastes impeccably more delicious then you could have ever even imagined, not that you fantasized about tasting the Winter Soldier or anything, though maybe it popped into your mind as a harmless curiosity. Now however, you’re pleasantly satisfied to find out by the way his soft plush lips dance across your own; it’s enough to send your heart fluttering into a thousand excited butterflies, more like an avalanche for Bucky.

All too soon does be abruptly pull away to seat himself next to you while you begrudgingly retract your hands from exploring him further. His eyes quickly find the floor in embarrassment as you smile adoringly at him, “Sorry that was...”

“Fucking hot?” You muse as his flustered face immediately snaps over to yours, hope clear in his shimmering gaze and a tad bit of puzzlement. Guess he didn’t expect his little move of bravery to produce such an apparent positive reaction.

“Uh, well...that’s uh, good..” He mumbles while rubbing the back of his neck, eyeing shifting across the bare mattress before they slowly glance up to find yours once more. This time he hands you a shy nervous smile,”...can I kiss you again?” Wonders Bucky with the sweetest puppy dog eyes you have ever seen in your entire life.

Smirking mischievously, you gently caress the side of his cheek while he happily leans into it, “Bucky Barnes....you can do a lot more then just kiss me.” And with that said does your sweet man press his lips against yours, admittedly more hungry then the first.

He kisses you with such vigor and passion this time, becoming more bolder by the second as he gently tugs at the bottom of your shirt. Smiling against him, you quickly break from his charm to give him your approval, “Shirt comes off if yours does first.” You tease as he plants a chaste kiss to your cheek, then jaw.

Rolling his eyes while continuing to plant love marks around your neck, you take that as a positive sign to reach over and hastily remove his top, he then wastes no time in carefully slipping yours off as well, taking a second longer to unclasp your bra and fling it to the side. Problems for finding later. After the introductions are had, you both immediately take a long heavy moment to trail your eyes over every curve and blemish of each other’s body. You’ve never done this with him before, never even witnessed him without a shirt on, God is he ever more divine then you could have ever even imagined.

Trailing your eyes over ever muscle and crevice in the dull shadowed lighting of the room, your heart begins to sink with sadness and anger while you study the scarring on his left shoulder, the area between where metal meets flesh. Bucky watches as you frown before he takes your left hand in his, eyes softening while he holds it gently, “They hurt you like they hurt me.” He whispers.

Your eyes quickly flicker over to see his shadowed face, and the dark hair that frames it so perfectly, “They hurt everyone.” You whisper back as he brings your wrist up to his mouth, a second later be places the softest of kisses against your weathered skin, right where your tattoo is. The one you’ve had since you were eleven, the one Hydra gave you.

“Did they do this too?” He wonders, already knowing your answer as you slowly nod in silent reply; the black inked marking shows 00X13 as it sits horizontally against your wrist from where those bastards essentially branded you.

Frowning deeply at the black ink on your wrist, you take a slow breath as Bucky watches your every move, “I’ve tried to cut it off of me a couple times long ago.....but they did this to me before the second serum altered my body so that I could heal faster. I guess my body registers it as part of the skin now, but I’ve grown to live with it. It’s a reminder of my past and survival, I cannot stay angry with the dead forever.” You mutter thoughtfully, referencing to the former doctors and scientists who did this to you, understanding that those people are all dead now or incredibly old.

Bucky bows his head, dark hair tickling your hand and wrist as he holds it close to his stubbled face, brows furrowing you wonder what internal turmoil he may be processing, soon he rises his stormy ocean of blue to find your gaze, “I hate them. All of them.” He grumbles lowly, the icy dark storm clouding over in hidden rage that flashes within his eyes.

Not wanting to darken the blessed moment a second more, you push a piece of hair out of his eyes before placing a gentle kiss against his lips, pulling away he slightly follows, “It doesn’t matter now. We’re two lonely souls together in this fucked up world and I want you to make love to me.” A small grin replaces the once bitter frown as he leans in closer.

“Then I will.” Answers Bucky, his voice as soft and velvety as the most precious flowers, he soon moves forward to gently push you on to your back, stealing another kiss along the way while he hovers over your heated body.

His form is much broader then your own as he pins your vessel to the bed, hands drag lazily through his increasingly messy hair as you slowly part your legs for him to rest his clothed nether regions against your own equally as kept queen jewels. Now he lays flush against your clothed bodies, fitting perfectly like two golden pieces of a Kings prized puzzle.

The growing friction of his hardening member against your sensitive nerves is enough to make you growl in frustration from lack of satisfying contact. Tugging his head back from your lips, you smirk as he pouts, “I’m enjoying this Buck, I really am, but our pants gotta go.” He promptly breaks out into a knowing grin.

“I was thinking the exact same thing.” Muses Bucky in agreement as he leans back to give you some space for safely kicking off your pants and undies as he fumbles with his own from the spot next to your left. Naked and shining in all your magnificent glory, you watch in amusement as he struggles to shove down his jeans before a small giggle escapes your lips when he frustratingly throws them across the floor.

Knees guarding your hidden treasure below, you smirk while resting your arms against the bed, eyes flashing in entertained contentment as they glance up at him, “I’m not going anywhere, Buck.” You quip as he shakes his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Well...” He’s quickly interrupted as you pull him back down against your naked form, “oh, hi.” Whispers Bucky as his face keeps mere inches from your own, pieces of black hair tickling the sides of your face.

“Hi.” You mutter back with a shy smile before raising a brow and glancing downward for a brief moment, “Care to take those off?” You ask in referral to his underwear that’s still keeping it all in, his poor manhood that looks just about ready to rip through his boxers any second now.

Glancing down as well, he quickly smiles as a dust of pink coats his stubbled cheeks, “oh, right......just a moment.” His body leaves yours once again to kneel on the mattress as he almost trips out of them, you stare on in anticipated excitement as he swiftly pulls down his undies to reveal a very hard member indeed. He was packing this whole time!

Cheeks flushing pink once more, he gives you a shy nervous grin before placing his hands on either side of your closed legs. With pleading eyes of dashing cobalt, they flash a stormy sky of hunger and lust. Bucky draws his lips closer to your knee before suddenly placing a gentle kiss against your naked skin. “Is this okay?” He asks cautiously incase you might have changed your mind about everything, still completely uncertain if this is all some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up at any moment.

Parting your legs on your own accord, you smile fondly at him, “Of course. Now come here.” You beckon with a confident nod of your head, openly inviting him to join you now in the most intimate of ways.

Heeding to your pleasing command, the super soldier hovers over your naked body once again as you part your legs even wider for his wanting hardness that just barley brushes past your inner upper thigh, so close to your entrance. You could just about melt into a puddle of goo.

Your breaths are more heavy now as you both anticipate the sweet moment to come; both flesh and metal arm fall to either side of your face as his lips ghost over yours, breath hot against your smiling face, “I haven’t done this in awhile, I’ll admit. Sorry if I don’t do grea...”

Kissing him roughly, you shut him up real quick, “It’s fine. No judgment here, I promise.” You add honestly with another sweet kiss as you feel downward for his hardened cock, finding it rather quickly he hums in surprised delight as you grasp it before leading him to your slick entrance.

Once close enough to get there on his own will, do you smirk up at him with a face more valuable then all the diamonds in the whole entire world; your hands grasp either side of his biceps, as he studies your nodding face, “I’m ready.” And with that does his tip touch your fiery skin, slowly he pushes into you with a pleasurable groan escaping from his parted lips. 

Immediately do you gasp in surprise at his fullness graciously stretching your walls, “Did I hurt you?!” Worries your new lover as you wrap your legs around his hips before sending him a confident wink and a kiss for good measure.

“Nothing can hurt me.” You confirm with another heated kiss to his lips, soon you begin grinding into him the best you can manage as he starts moving pleasantly against your core. His strong hips pushing you back into the mattress in the absolutely best way possible.

Bucky soon finds an effective pace and with that begins thrusting into you harder now as he gains more and more confidence with your wanting body of pure flame and desire; only the delicious sounds of skin on skin contact making itself present in the tiny apartment, besides your labored breaths of intense love making.

Your mind is nothing but foggy mush as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into your slick entrance with each beautifully graceful stroke of his godlike hips. Soft moans and muffled grunts continue to leave his throat as he pumps in and out of you over and over again. Ugh, you could just about die happy.

Causing you to whimper in pleasure as the tiny growing coil inside you gets tighter and tighter with every new thrust to your center walls. His hard cock twitches against your sensitive nerves as his own orgasm begins reaching its inevitable climax, he’s so fucking close.

With a couple more powerful thrusts does he finally succumb to your glorious body and cum hard inside you, his voice gravely and deeply enthralling as he moans in pleasure of the golden release. Feeling his member twitch angrily from within is enough to send you over the edge with ecstasy, causing your walls to clench instinctively against his dexterously slick cock. Fuck he feels good.

More whimpers and moans fall helplessly off of your tongue as your fingers trail pink fiery lines across his glowing skin, he’s without a doubt just as sweaty as you are by this point, and all the more beautiful.

Kissing your lips hungrily, Bucky pounds relentlessly harder into you now as the two of you silently decide to continue on for a swiftly approaching round two. In no time he has the both of you cumming even harder and messier then the first, with moans and groans of plenty reverberating off the aged old walls of his tiny apartment.

Leaving your body a shaking and sweaty mess as he thrusts a couple last pumps into you for good measure, pink swollen lips not once leaving yours until at long last does he gently pull out for the first time in what seems like hours. Though you definitely weren’t complaining, both of you have a plethora of stamina to spare, though you did wear him out.

Falling into an exhausted heap of Bucky next to you on the messy bed, his chest quickly rises and falls with heavy breaths as your does the same. For a few long moments do the two of you keep silent, just the sounds of your heavy breathing the only thing of any significance in the darkly room lit room.

After giving yourself a couple minutes to cool down, Bucky blissfully chuckles, causing you to turn your head towards his beaming face as he stares up at the ceiling, “Something funny Barnes?” You muse in that gloriously prominent accent of yours that drives him wild. He turns his sweat covered head over to you, pieces of long hair sticking to the sides of his handsomely beaming face.

“Are we dead? This feels like a dream and I’m going to wake up alone any second now.” Mutters Bucky, eyes blinking in hopes this is real and true as life itself.

Laughing, you move from your back to lay flush against his left side while watching your every move, kissing his chest you hum, “Well, you’d have a real mess in the morning.”

Bucky immediately scrunches his nose up in slight disgust as you sling an arm over his bare chest, “Thank you for that image Y/N.” He retorts with a short burst of air leaving from his nostrils, indicating he did indeed find it rather amusing.

Kissing his cheek you shrug, “It’s not like your load isn’t still....in places, it’s sex Buck. It’s messy and beautiful and I’m glad I could do this with you. Seriously, I thought we’d never get here.”

Bucky’s face appears rather thoughtful for a long moment before he finally speaks, “I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“What!?” You exclaim in bewilderment, causing him to snicker as you continue with your explanation, “Was I not obvious enough with the stolen glances and whatever else I could get away with? I was trying actually if you wanted to know....in my own way, but still.”

“I did try to kill you once.” Confirms Bucky as you lay comfortably against his metal arm, head resting on his upper chest while his eyes flicker back up to the ceiling.

Scoffing, you flick a piece of his hair, “I didn’t take it personally.”

Thinking for a moment, he finally looks down at you, “I’m glad you didn’t. And I’m glad that you found me.” Whispers your lover as he reveals the most dashing smile you’ve ever seen, while his flesh arm gently caresses down your shoulder in a blissfully comforting manner.

“Me too.” You add, pressing another soft kiss to his lips as you trail a finger down his side, “Now let’s take a shower......and probably change the sheets.”

“We don’t have sheets.”

——

An annoying ray of golden sunlight shines brightly in your closed eyelids from a small tear in the middle of the window newspaper, as your senses slowly come back to the world. You squint before taking a deep breath and shifting your gaze to make a full circle of the room, since you do happen to be facing away from the wall.

Your eyes trail over to Bucky’s usual spot only to reveal absolutely nothing, your heart suddenly jumps in your chest as the pleasurable memories of last night come flooding into your head once again, and some of the leftover smells, you can thank those fucking scientist for that. 

That’s right, you think, you slept with Bucky, and he’s literally snoozing away right behind you.

Smiling into the morning sun, you quietly sit up before turning your head to look down at Bucky, his hair is an absolute adorable mess as it lays across his face in various dark strands. He’s currently shirtless with the exception of some sweatpants and the thin blanket he owns that’s positioned across his torso.

You’re clothed as well, deciding it best to be dressed and comfy after the heated shower session you two shared; oh to be back in that moment for another minute longer, how nice that would be.

Slipping away from your daydreaming of Bucky, your heart skips a beat as he stirs, soon enough does his beautiful blues open up to the world. Finding your adoring gaze, he rests a hand on your folded leg, “Mornin’ Y/N.” Mutters Bucky in that raspy early morning voice of his, the actual greeting sounding more like a toddler learning to speak for the fist time then anything truly coherent. Or like a drunken man.

Rubbing a hand through his dark locks, you smile lovingly down at his stubbly morning face as he closes his eyes yet again, showing pure bliss while your fingers run through his scalp. “Touch starved much?” You quip as he opens his eyes and yawns like that of a sleepy old bear, metal arm flashing a quick stray beam of light when he shifts.

“Maybe.” Teases Bucky as he silently beckons for you to lay down with him, heeding to this hopeful inquisition, you scoot yourself onto your side and graciously welcome as his flesh arm reaches over your torso to pull you in closer.

Noses mere inches from one another, you raise a brow as he stares lovingly into your eyes, “Cozy?”

Gently kissing your lips in reply, he pulls back to reveal a positive lazy grin, “I think so.” Jests Bucky as he pushes you onto your back so that he can sling an arm over your rib cage, essentially pinning you to the bed with no real intention of letting you go any time soon.

The both of you stay like that for a good couple of minutes, just enjoying each other’s company in the late morning sun before he finally decides to speak, “Was last night....uh, good?” Wonders Bucky in nervous apprehension as his head rests comfortably against yours.

Giving him a light peck, you grin, “The best I’ve ever had.” And you mean every single word.

He gently squeezes your side in reply before muttering, “You were great too.”

Lightly chuckling, your eyes squint as you smile brightly at him, “Well that’s good to know. Glad I hadn’t lost my incredible seduction skills.”

“Yeah, I was thoroughly seduced.” Quips Bucky as you snicker.

-

Tagged: @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @diegos-butt​

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.04

10/23/2020

Strong Arms and Honest Kisses

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 3,636

Warnings: failed relationships, talks of lonliness, angst, FLUFF, complicated relationships

A/N: This one is a little shorter than my chapters recently. Part of this is because this felt like a complete chapter but I also did a lot of rewriting with this one. I wrote half of it, then deleted it. Then wrote it again. Then deleted it. I finally got a good flow going and this is the one I liked the most. I hope y’all like it too. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please do not REPOST my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

The walk back to your room is awkward.

Full of fluttering hesitant energy.

There’s a new electricity between your body and Thor’s as he walks beside you, heavy feet falling slowly, with forethought.

He has his hands behind his back, feeling the need to keep them to himself after what happened in the garden.

You appreciate the space.

“That was my first kiss.” You admit, hating the silence between you because it feels like both of you want to say so much but are unwilling to speak first.

“Oh,” Thor laments, his gaze wavering. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” You rush to reassure him, shrugging a shoulder as you look straight once more. “I-I mean, you wanted a maiden, right? A virgin?”

When you look at him, he’s blushing, his cheeks a soft pink underneath that hay colored beard.

It’s cute and you feel a surge of warmth for him fill your chest.

“That wasn’t necessarily what I wanted.” He clarifies.

“Oh…” Your turn to lament. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, a flurry of worries come rushing forward. You don’t have any experience. None. Zero. Tonight has been the most action you’ve ever seen in your life.

No one has ever held your hand.

No one has ever been so caring and sweet.

No one has definitely ever kissed you.

No one has ever proposed.

You have no experience to offer Thor, as a wife, will you be able to satisfy him?

He’s a literal God. He’s really, super old, and has probably slept with lots of women…or…beings? Aliens?

How are you going to live up to that?

“I just…I’ve never even really liked anyone, so I never was with anyone, and I’m sorry-” You fret, stopping to look up at him.

He places his hands over yours, stopping your fidgeting.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He whispers gently.

You meet his blue eye and it’s just as soft as his voice.

“We can talk about that part of our marriage later. Let’s take this one day at a time.”

“But I-I don’t know what to do with that. I mean, I kinda know but I don’t know. I don’t want to-I’m kinda scared of-”

Thor’s blush returns and your own neck is suddenly burning.

That previously terrifying image of Thor prying your legs open that you’d imagined back at home replays itself in your mind, this time the fear is not for the man himself but the act in general.

Thor’s hands finding the side of your neck interrupt your vocal vomit.

With you silenced, he traces the lines of your shoulders, the length of your arms before he takes hold of your elbows over your cloak which is keeping them warm.

“We have time, cherub.” The pet name comes out of nowhere and sounds so strange but good and you’re not sure you know how to breathe anymore. “Time to worry about many things later. Tonight, let’s just enjoy this agreement to try.”

With a lick to your lips, you nod, shutting your eyes as you’re overwhelmed by not only the pleasure that stupid pet name has given you but also his hands still wrapped around your elbows.

“Thank you for telling me.” Thor whispers, pulling you a little closer. “These are things that are good to know. I will be sure to make preparations for us.”

“Preparations?” You nearly squeak.

“Things to make it easier for you. But as I said,” his ears grow nice and red too, now. “We have plenty of time to think about that later. Almost three days!”

You scoff, “That’s not a lot of time, Thor.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I suppose you’re right.”

“This is happening so fast.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I’ve been putting this choice off for so long that now that I’ve made it, they want me to follow through quickly.” Thor takes a step back, reaching down to take your hand.

You eagerly hold his hand back, grateful for the comfort it gives you but also you really like holding his hand, you realize.

“Let’s get you to bed. Even though Hilde was completely drunk, she’ll still wake up early enough to make you hate her.” He pulls you along, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze every few steps.

“Thor?”

“Hm?” He asks, not sparing you a glance.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” Your own eyes are glued to his hand around yours.

You seriously like the way his hand looks around yours. Why are you letting yourself fall this hard? It’s not right. It’s not fair. To you. To him.

“Do what?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“This.” You give your hand a shake, the two of you rounding the corner to the hall where your room is.

He doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the door. He twists the knob and pulls it open, stepping in with you before turning to close it.

Swallowing hard, you try not to lose your breath again. There’s a pressure in your chest that you know is coming from the way he shut that door.

He turns, strutting towards you as he keeps hold of your hand. You take several steps back until your legs hit the edge of your bed forcing you to sit.

For a moment you think he might move over you, just like that image in your head. Instead he sits down beside you.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” He asks, pulling your hand over onto his lap.

“I hope so.” You relax, waiting patiently as he takes a deep breath.

“I haven’t seen Jane in almost three months.” He explains. “She’s been secluded in an installation in the middle of nowhere. In Wyoming? And I’ve been so busy here…this is the same struggle we always have. I cannot get away because of my own duties now much more formal and inescapable as King. And Jane’s work has always been the most important thing to her.

“I knew that when we agreed to try again but I was hoping that we might both take some time to prioritize our relationship. Jane was the first person I met when I was sent here. She was kind and patient. She was brilliant. Smartest person I’ve ever met. Smarter than Stark and Banner, don’t tell them I told you that.” He smiles. “But it’s that very brain that keeps her focus elsewhere. And I don’t begrudge her that passion. It’s one of the reasons I fell for her.

“But we don’t seem to be able to make it work.”

Hearing him praise her so much, love her so openly dries your throat and you can’t swallow to push past the lump there to speak. So, you say nothing.

“This,” Thor pulls your hand up a little, readjusting and holding it more securely. “This feels good.”

That helps.

“But you wish it was her?” You wonder.

Thor goes silent, averting his eyes to his hand around yours.

“Not anymore.” He sighs. “Until tonight, I would have said yes. I would have given anything for you to be Jane. To marry the woman I love? How could I not want that? It’s what I’ve always hoped for.”

You feel disappointment pull your body down, shoulders slumped, head falling so that you don’t have to look at him anymore.

You feel strong fingers take hold of your chin, gently tilting your head back until you can meet his electric blue eye.

“When I met you, I was surprised. I’d met with woman, after woman, after woman, after woman-”

“Alright, I get it.” You frown.

Thor stops to laugh but then nods, “Sorry. I only mean that every woman I met, all the other princesses and duchesses and ladies once related to direct royal families were kind but there was something calculating about the way they spoke. They were careful with the things they said and I didn’t feel like I was really getting to know them.”

“But with me?”

“With you, I-it was like recognizing someone that I’d known my whole life. You sat there, terrified but unable to keep from speaking your mind. You were honest about not wanting to marry for anything but love and I understood how you felt. I’d made up my mind not to choose you then. I didn’t want to take from you what was being taken from me, but I-the more I thought about marrying one of those women…I told myself I would let you find someone you could be with, even as my wife.

“We’d keep it secret. You could be with them and I would give you your privacy and let you live that life while protecting it for you.” He sighs. “Then you came here, and dinner brought me hope. I didn’t think that you could ever want to feel any other way for me than that disappointment I saw cross your face when I asked you to marry me and live your life with me without feeling loved.”

“Neither did I.” You confess, words coming out in a rush. “I hated you when I came here. I hated my family for being related to royalty. I hated that I was suddenly being asked to think about shit that I honestly, didn’t even care about! And then I met you and you were nice and confused and you asked me that stupid fucking question about my ideal marriage and I had no one else to picture so I pictured you and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Thor smiles, “If I’m honest, that’s also what drew me to you. To be fair though, I didn’t ask any of the other women that question, but it was clear without them having to say so that they were after the prestige that comes with being a human Queen of Asgard.”

“But I know that you still love her.” You continue, ignoring the sweet smile he’s giving you because your mind will not stop fretting. “I know that you’d much rather have it be Jane so, I’m only saying that you don’t have to force yourself to hold my hand or show me affection when you don’t feel it.”

Thor sighs heavily, a huff as he takes hold of your head with both massive hands and pulls you towards him to meet his lips.

This time your surprise only lasts a second before you squeeze your eyes shut and pucker your lips back against his.

You can feel his body shake and you tear your eyes open, searching for what’s making him laugh but find him watching you.

He pulls back, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“Relax. There’s no need to be nervous.” He whispers, deep. It settles in your chest cavity and you really like the sound of his voice.

“I’ve never kissed before.” You remind him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Kissing is easy.” Thor tells you. “Just pucker your lips,”

You do as he asks, self-conscious but eager to feel that kiss again.

“Then let me do the rest.” He pulls you back to him and your eyes shut as his lips meet yours.

It’s only a peck. A held one. Until Thor’s hands guide your head to the right as he tilts his to the left and suddenly his lips are overlapping your own. They’re hot, wet, and his breath tickles.

You jump as the tip of his tongue rolls along the seam of your mouth and without making the choice to do it, you open for him and he delves in slowly. Your body is suddenly humming, your mind overcome, and it all feels like a dream.

He inhales as he kisses you, tongue swirling around your own and you don’t know what to do so you reach out to grip the edge of his armor around his chest, hands fisted around the leather while he leads you in this dizzy dance.

He tilts your head the other way, breaking the kiss to take a breath giving you a second to gasp, but then he’s back on you, smothering your whimper of surprise with his lips.

As he presses against yours again, he dives in with more excitement, mouth open, tongue tasting.

You’re trembling, legs shaking with nerves as your hands hold on harder.

As he pulls away, lips smacking quietly, he caresses your cheeks again, letting you come down from your high.

He waits patiently until your eyes open, searching wildly to see what you might find in his.

All you find is his own searching, his own curiosity.

“Um…” You mumble, voice barely audible.

“If you let me in,” He says, his breath washing over your lips again making the past few minutes replay in vivid color. “I will open for you. I think we can do this right. I want to do this right. Will you do this with me?”

Your hands are shaking around his arm, still reeling from that kiss. Holy shit.

“I already said yes.” You point out.

“Say it again.” Thor pleads, scooting closer.

You’re almost completely pulled against his chest, hands squished between your bodies.

“This is happening so fast.” You gasp, confused but happy.

“It has to.” He nods. “I want it to.”

“But how do I know it’s real?” You wonder, and to answer you, Thor crushes you against his chest, head dipping until he meets your lips again.

“It’s real.” He says, tilting your head again, coaxing your mouth open.

You respond more eagerly this time, letting your tongue swirl around his to meet it in its frenzy. Your heart pounds with excitement. This is new and you can understand why people like it. You’ve wondered in passing what it would feel like when you saw it happen in films and shows, taking the books you’d read as gospel for what it feels like but they pale in comparison to the reality.

It’s a haze of pleasure. Foggy but the emotions sharp. It’s also possessive. It feels like yours now. This with Thor can never belong to anyone else. The very thought of it being felt by someone else breaks your heart and also boils your blood.

It makes you bolder, pulling him closer where you have hold of him.

“Let me in.” Thor whispers against your lips, giving you one small final peck. “It’s real for me, I swear to you.”

Can you trust him?

Everything he’s said so far makes sense. His disillusionment with his relationship with Jane is not fake. You were able to hear the sadness in his voice, the acceptance when he explained what was happening with her.

“If you can try to love me, I will try to love you.” He whispers, reaching down with his thumb to trace the shape of your lower lip.

You shut your eyes, seduced by his touch.

“You’re not playing fair,” You sigh. “This is coercion.”

Opening your eyes, you find Thor smiling, and you wonder if this is what he looks like when he likes someone. Is this him smitten?

You don’t think so.

You can’t wrap your mind around him being anything but tolerant of you. He’d been so vocal about loving Jane that you can’t see how only meeting with you twice might override that, even if they are currently struggling.

“I already told you yes! Brunnhilde was right about you.”

“And I want to hear you say it again. For good measure.” He traces the line of your jaw, cup your chin from beneath once he reaches it. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you’ll try with me. We’ll do everything in our power and devote ourselves to each other. You’ll love me and I will love you.”

His words give your stomach flutters and the way he’s holding your chin makes it so that you can’t look away to clear your head.

So, you nod. “I will love you, Thor. We’ll make this work. As long as you never touch me unless you really want to. I don’t want you to force it. I want it to be real.”

Desperately, you want it. Now more than ever.

“Deal.” Thor says, then wraps one arm around your shoulders and meets your lips again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake with a gasp, reaching around for something though you don’t know what. No one had slept with you.

The bed is rightfully empty. As you sit up, you remember every little detail of last night. The words that were spoken, the declarations made, the kisses.

Oh, fuck, the kisses!

You lay back down, heart pounding while you urge yourself to think of every single shift of Thor’s lips against your own.

They’d been so hot, and wet once he’d French kissed you. His tongue had been thick and smooth in its movements. Skilled though you don’t know what you’d compare it to in order to know that for sure.

His arms had been huge and strangely safe. Wrapped up around you, he’d been a powerhouse of heat and strength, lulling you into a calm you’ve never felt before.

Reaching up to scratch your forehead, a small shine catches your eye, and you find your engagement ring, dazzling you with its beauty and the memory of Thor on one knee.

For a moment you’re almost sure that you’ll wake up and all of this will be a dream. A good dream that you had no idea you could ever have wanted.

Then a knock on your door makes you jump, and you sit up again.

Through the door marches Brunnhilde with the swagger of a soldier heading into battle, her clothes relaxed however, plain jeans, a red sweater, and heavy work boots.

“Good!” She smiles at you, “You’re awake! Estrid, bring in Her Highness’s breakfast and set aside one of the other dresses His Majesty bought for her.”

“I’m wearing another uncomfortable dress?” Your sorrow is clear and Brunnhilde smiles at you, her eyes flitting towards your ring. “So, that’s what they were up to.”

You follow her gaze and take a long look at your ring, “Who?”

“Loki and Thor.” Estrid moves past Brunnhilde, heading towards the desk at the far side of the room and places it there before she hurries to the armoire to sift through the dresses. “They’d disappeared a few days ago, went shopping or so they said. I didn’t believe them but clearly, they told me the truth. Just didn’t think they were shopping for a ring. It’s pretty.”

“It’s a lotus flower.” You tell her, throwing your blankets back and sliding to the edge of the bed. “He said he didn’t know that I liked flowers but was happy that I did since I’d like the ring more.”

“He said that?” She wonders, grabbing your robe from the vanity seat then offering it to you.

Taking it, you slip it on and tie it loosely around your waist. The smell of the food pulls you to the desk and you sit, immediately picking apart the eggs and toast.

“Mm.” You nod. “He did. He also said that he really wants to try. He’s willing to really give us a shot.”

Brunnhilde sits on the end of your bed, watching you eat with the space between her eyes puckered.

“Then he’s chosen to give her up finally.” Brunnhilde realizes, surprise painting her tone.

You look at her, intrigued by her own surprise.

“Is that weird?”

“No. Not weird, just unlikely. I never thought he’d really give up on Jane. They were so in love in the beginning when we first arrived. They were always together. Slowly they saw each other less and less, but his devotion never wavered.” She explains.

This doesn’t make you feel good. In fact, hearing about how deep their love was—is—unsettles you.

Fork still in your mouth, you watch her, mind racing.

“Eat up, Your Highness.” Brunnhilde says, rising. “Get dressed and meet me in the main hall. We have to go into town for your wedding dress fitting.”

As she moves for the door and Estrid crosses the room to your bed to lay out a stunning navy dress that looks way too formal for a dress fitting, you turn in your seat, hands grasping the back as you twist to follow her.

“Is Thor awake?”

“Yes.” Brunnhilde nods. “He left about half an hour ago for Wyoming to go see Jane, I assume to break things off with her.”

“Oh,” You shrink, fears you didn’t know you could have choking you.

What if he sees her and realizes he loves her too much to let her go? What if she changes her mind and decides that watching him marry someone else is unbearable? She decides to marry him and then he comes back to tell you that she’s agreed to be Queen and he no longer needs you?

Last night had only cemented your growing feelings for Thor and there is no way you can ever go back to before those kisses.

“He’ll be back tonight.” Brunnhilde assures you, but it only drives you crazier.

Why does he need until tonight?

Why so long? How many kisses will he give her? How many hugs will she take?

You shouldn’t begrudge him this goodbye. You should accept that with it will come with tears and affection that you already see as yours. You don’t want her to have it but it’s not yours yet. It’s intended for you, but right now Thor’s love is still hers.

This God of Thunder has absolutely wrecked you and it’s clear to you that you can never go back to your little home without him. You can never live a life where his arms are not around you.

You’re absolutely fucked.