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tinyyoungblood · 4 years

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pillow fort tragedy | peter parker

summary: what do you do when you have the entire compound to yourself? that’s right, you build a gigantic pillow fort with your boyfriend and the two dudes you have to babysit—an enhanced ex-soviet assassin and the god of thunder from outta space. good luck with that.

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

warnings: language, fluff, tiny bit of conflict and mention of injury

word count: 2.6 k

a/n: absolute crack fic lmao enjoy! x

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It was another Sunday at the Compound which meant that something completely stupid had to go down at some point. This time, it was a real team effort and Steve would’ve surely been proud to some extent. Only, Steve wasn’t there and if he were, all of this wouldn’t have happened in the first place, which probably would’ve been better for everybody involved. Wherever you looked, miles and miles of pillows and blankets covered what used to be the comfort of their home. Now, it was a new empire.

Turning on the comm in your ear, you continued squeezing through the narrow passage of blankets that were poorly draped over some wobbly chairs and shelves. “Guys? Pete, can you hear me?” No answer. For a second, your back touched a blanket and the whole interior started to wobble, making you hold your breath. Who would’ve thought that a highly trained assassin and an invincible God were absolutely terrible at building something as simple as a pillow fort? Hah, not you.

It all started at 11 a.m. sharp when the others left for a mission that neither you nor Peter were allowed to join, but that wasn’t anything new. The two of you were used to it and almost always found something to occupy your time with. The same thing couldn’t be said for Bucky and Thor though, who were both incredibly offended to be treated like “dense punks”. Dense punks as in Peter and you. But then again, the only reason you both weren’t allowed to tag along was your age.

The former was denied because he kept forgetting to put down the toilet seat despite various warnings on Cap’s side and death threat’s on Nat’s and the latter wasn’t allowed to join because of the smell coming from his room that was almost tearing off the wallpaper in the hallway. They were practically grounded which was hilarious, especially since this was quite a rare combination of team members that the Compound had never witnessed before. So, to break the ice and get properly acquainted, Peter had the revolutionary idea to build a pillow fort with every godforsaken pillow, blanket and bedsheet that the Compound had to offer.

And so it began. Every bed, except for Thor’s because you were almost 100% sure that something lived underneath it, was brutally stripped off its covers and used to build the most atrocious and unsteadiest one of its kind. From the Common room to the elevator, every square meter was covered. Your heart race had honestly never been as high as when you tried to get yourself something to drink after having to dodge every pillow tower on your way to the kitchen. You still managed to end up with a wet shirt and a swollen ankle.

It was honestly all fun and games until the games turned into the mission of their lives. Peter had jokingly commanded them to not let this fort go down, under any circumstances—a stupid thing to say to the Winder Soldier and the King of Asgard. And it wasn’t because of their admirable determination and ambition, no—it was because both of them were stubborn idiots who would never dare lose a game.

And from there on, it kind of went downhill. Things started to escalate, highly expensive items were shattered, people were thrown, pillow fights happened inside the pillow fort—it was awful and you were just glad that nothing had caught on fire yet. Suddenly the subtle ‘click’ in your ear made you halt and you listened carefully. “Y/N? Babe, can you hear me?” Peter’s voice was shaky and you hastily answered. “Yes, I—I can hear you, Peter.” He let out a long sigh, relief flooding over his aching limbs. “Oh, thank god, you’re still alive—Where are you? Are you okay?” You nodded eagerly and looked around. “I’m fine…but I think I’m lost. Actually, I have no idea where I am. The tiles all look the same. Stupid Tony and his stupid monochronic taste in architecture,” you mumbled under your breath and you could hear him chuckle.

“Okay, that’s fine. Your ankle’s still swollen, right? Don’t move it, we’ll come get you. I think I can hear your heartbeat—“ He paused for a moment and you thought he expected some kind of reaction so you hesitantly responded, “…Aww?”

“Hm? No, that—sorry, Thor is holding an inaugural speech and he just started to list off his childhood best friends and one of them, you won’t believe it, is called Bob.” He snickered on the other side of the line and you furrowed your brows. “Bob?” He hummed. “Oh, well. Uhm, anyway, why exactly is Thor holding a speech again?”

“Oh, he just pronounced himself King of Blankard.”

“…Come again?”

“Blankard? Because it’s a pillow fort? But we also used blankets? And Pillowgard just doesn’t have—”

“—the same ring to it. Got it.” You glanced in each direction of the tunnel but it seemed like you were still the only one in this area. “Peter, when are you guys going to get here?” He didn’t respond and the only thing you heard was a slow clap and a whistle. You rolled your eyes. Your boyfriend was cheering for the new King of Blankard so you might as well have to start thinking about ways to fend for yourself once dusk would fall. You heard some shuffling before his voice came back. “Sorry, babe, I just assumed it’s bad manners to interrupt a God while they’re monologuing.”

It wasn’t biologically possible for you to roll your eyes any harder but you made it work.

“Just get here.” You sighed and he smooched a kiss into your ear. Your ankle started to pulse so you decided to sit down for a while until they would find you.

A few minutes passed and you finally heard distinct chatter. Crawling toward it, you felt like a big toddler when Peter’s eyes locked with yours and lit up. “Baby!” He cupped your face with both hands and excitedly planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle. Parting from you, you shot Thor a smile who gave you a friendly nod. “Please, do not expect a greeting of that same manner on my behalf, Lady Y/N.”

You laughed. “That’s totally cool, Thor, don’t worry.” Leaning forward to look past Peter, you realized that Bucky wasn’t with them. “We’ve lost him,” Peter explained as he watched your face turn into pure horror.

“…To death?”

He almost choked on air. “Dear god, no. He took a wrong turn and now we can’t find him. He’s still very much alive…I think.” You nodded swiftly and glanced at your watch. “Okay, guys, it was really fun while it lasted but I need to get to my room now to send in that Biology paper. And maybe put some ice on this bad boy.” You gestured to your ankle but they stared at you blankly.

“What?”

“You can’t get through the hallway, Lady Y/N.”

“What?” You repeated yourself, brows knitted. “Why?”

“Blanket collapse. Kind of like an avalanche,” Thor explained and you stared at him in disbelief.

“Guys, I don’t want to play anymore. I really have to hand in the paper now. The deadline’s in 10 minutes.”

“But you can’t get through.” Peter tried to reason.

“What do you mean? It’s blankets and pillows. You just…” You gestured a sweeping motion. “…push it aside.”

He pouted. “But then the fort will collapse.”

“Peter, I don’t care.” You sucked in a sharp breath to speak calmly. “Can’t we just tear the fort down?”

“No!!” The two suddenly shouted horrified as if you had just suggested to run over a puppy. The terror on your face turned blank.

“…What?”

“Y/N, I love you, but I swore to Thor that, as a rightful citizen of Blankard, I would put my life on the line for this fort. It’s my home now and he even made me swore over a pillow and everything, it was really cool, you should’ve seen it.” Thor nodded proudly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose to stop the steam from coming out your ears. “Okay, how about this? I’m not a citizen of Blankard, right?” Your laugh edged on insanity. “So I could just…” You imitated the sweeping motion again. “…right?”

Not meeting your gaze, Peter fidgeted with his hands. “Well…”

You let your head fall back with a groan. “Peter!”

“I’m sorry, okay! But you’re technically one of the Founding Fathers,” he explained sheepishly and you wanted to pulverize him. Your glare sent shivers down his spine. “Peter Benjamin Parker, I am not going to miss my deadline because of a pillow fort. Now, get me…to my…room.” With every word you inched closer to him until you were pressed flush against his chest, piercing eyes boring into his soul.

He gulped and didn’t found the right words, or any words really, to escape his mouth so he just nodded stiffly. Racking his brain with all the movies he had ever watched, Peter came up with a quick idea. “Okay, how about this…” As he started to ramble about his plan, you took notice of Thor who was comfortably sitting behind Peter while stretching out his arm with an open palm. You’ve seen that movement far too many times and thus knew exactly what he was doing.

Catching you look at him, he smiled brightly at you while giving you a friendly wave. You waved back and averted your gaze back to your boyfriend.

“…So once I’m outside, I can easily climb through your bedroom window, open your laptop and turn in the paper for you. There’s no way that we could fuck that up, right?” He laughed nervously and you had to suppress your shit-eating grin.

“Sorry to disappoint, Pete, but looks like Thor’s already on that case. Don’t worry about it.”

With furrowed brows, he whipped around and you could swear you saw his soul escape his body. “Thor, NO!!”

But it was too late. Like domino stones, each and every pillow started to collapse and pull the blankets with it. Everything was happening in slow motion as Thor realized what he had done and once Mjolnir was in his hand, he quickly scooped you up and threw you on his shoulder. Peter landed on the other one and with both of you protesting, he ran away from the falling pillows and toward the elevator. Right at the doorway where the paths were lower, he let the both of you fall to the ground, screaming “CRAWL!!”.

Doing as told, you crawled as fast as you could in front of them, ignoring the sharp ache in your ankle but once you rounded the corner, you bumped into a hard chest. It was a very confused Bucky. His hair was tousled, he had a scratch to his cheek and overall looked like he came back from wrestling a bear. In unison, the three of you yelled “CRAWL!!” and he whipped around to lead the way.

It was all for nothing though. The walls around you started to give in and in the blink of an eye, four Avengers were buried under a pile of pillows and blankets.

It was silent for a second, no one comprehended what just happened. In some way, it was like the deadly silence that followed after defeat—a battlefield of buried hopes and duvets.

But you couldn’t help it and started laughing.

Of course, it was muffled but you laughed hard. The realization that you had missed your deadline because of a pillow fort that you built with earth’s best defenders was comically genius to you. Your belly shook with laughter while tears brimmed your eyes and you knew you were seconds away from running out of oxygen when suddenly the distinct ‘ding’ of the elevator caught your attention and your laughter abruptly died down.

Peter caught your eye as he suddenly looked…very excited? He wasn’t sure what part of his biological whereabouts made him feel this spur of adrenaline for being busted, maybe it was the teenage set of rebellious hormones, but it was for sure questionable.

Rising with the others, an all too familiar voice bellowed from the hallway. “WHAT THE HELL.”

A faint ‘Language…” followed and the corners of your mouth quirked up. Dizzily looking around the room, you had to bite back your laughter again.

It truly was like a battlefield. The others were scattered close to you on the ground, still halfway buried under a few layers while sharing silent looks of fear. Well, except for Peter maybe, who looked like he was standing in line for a roller coaster.

The footsteps came closer and within a second, they all stood at the doorway, still geared and everything. As expected, Tony’s eyes roamed through the room with bewilderment plastered on his face. Steve just portrayed pure confusion whereas Nat and Sam both had an amused smirk dangling on their lips, some might even say they were impressed.

When Tony’s eyes landed on the four of you, sitting in the middle of the room, looking like lost puppies who had no idea what maniac instincts overtook them to create this beautiful mess, he was speechless. Tony Stark was speechless.

The others glanced at him sideways, anticipating another explosion but instead, he looked like 10 years were capped off his life and he let out a long sigh. “…Pillow fort?”

The four of you nodded silently. Another moment of silence followed but this time, he had just accepted his fate. That’s what he signed up for when he left two men-children and two actual children at home all by themselves. This one was on him really.

When he noticed that the others were staring at him and expecting him to handle the mess, he almost looked offended.

“She's crying—“ He pointed at you and then Peter. “He's excited, I'm confused, nothing new. Now are we going or not?” Not waiting for an answer, he whirled around and left the room. Sharing a collective look of confusion, Steve informed with an amused smile. “We’re going out to eat Shawarma. Let’s go.” He nodded in the direction of the elevator and walked away, Nat and Sam following closely behind.

The room was silent again as Bucky picked himself up and Thor dusted off his clothes, both avoiding each other’s gaze. It was like nobody wanted to admit or even believe what had happened for the past few hours. Peter helped you up and wrapped your arm around his neck to steady you before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled at him and together you walked, or more likely limped, toward the elevator. At the doorway, the four of you halted and turned back around to let your gaze fall on the remains of a fun afternoon. And just like that, it was another Sunday at the Compound.

* * *

this was so much fun to write and if i could make even one of you smile just a little bit with this one, it would absolutely make my day. thank for you reading! i’m playing with the thought of making a mini series just about the chaotic sunday adventures at the compound so a lot of domestic!avengers/au involving boyfriend!peter ofc so make sure to leave some feedback! xx

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taglist: @honeypie-holland @nerdyandproudofitsstuff

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #avenger!reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker funny

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

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Feels More Like a Memory

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Ric gulps down the rest of the beer and gestures to the bartender for another. Then he holds out his hand. “I’m Ric, by the way. With a C.”

“Wally. With a W.”

“That’s a tragedy.”

“And Ric isn’t?”

It’s not easy being a ghost. Ric isn’t dead. He has flesh, breath, motion, all signs of life. But Him? The person he apparently used to be but who might as well be a stranger told in someone else’s story? That person is dead, and Ric can’t help but feel like a murderer for pushing him out. He isn’t Dick Grayson. Not anymore. Ric slides into a bar stool, flagging down the bartender. “I’ll have a beer.” This place isn’t his favorite haunt in Blüdhaven, but they do serve good brews despite the lack of customers and general grossness. And, frankly, he’s not in the mood for company tonight. He’s been fielding calls all day from those people, the ones who knew him Before. The ones who foolishly call every few days as if expecting the ghost to answer in Ric’s place. Bruce. Barbara. Damian. Even some names that Ric doesn’t recognize but couldn’t care less about if he did. A Donna Troy. Jason Todd, even though Dick saw in some old files that he’s supposed to be long dead. Some kid named Tim. Ric doesn’t even pick up anymore when the calls come. It’s too exhausting playing defense, trying to remind these poor idiots that the Dick they knew is dead. Ric can’t keep pretending to have any part of himself that cares about these strangers, that keeps him straddling the line between past and future, or it will tear him in half. He’s had enough of the visits from “old friends” and family members he wouldn’t recognize from a Christmas card.

It’s a weeknight, so the bar is empty but for a few alcoholics and some guys playing pool in the back. Ric might even join them later, hustle a few rounds. The door to the bar opens, a dulled bell sounding to announce the newcomer. Ric doesn’t bother looking up. It’s not like he’ll recognize the new face—or any face, for that matter. The bartender brings over his beer. Ric thanks her and takes a sip. The stool next to him creaks. “I’ll have a Coke with three maraschino cherries, please. Thanks.” It’s a deep voice with a bit of a midwestern twang. From Missouri, maybe? The “please” is a clear indicator that he’s not from around here, nor does he go to bars a lot. Not this kind, anyway. Ric has tried and failed to turn that part off, the part that picks apart every detail in the world into quantifiable data. His memories may be gone, but whatever that crazy bat guy trained into him has stayed in his head as muscle memory. Ric couldn’t escape it if he tried. He drinks his beer, side-eyeing the guy. “Never met anyone who goes to a bar for a soda.” The guy doesn’t...he doesn’t flinch, exactly. But there’s the slightest of shivers that runs through his frame as if hearing Ric’s voice does something to him, even though he’s the one who sat next to Ric in the first place despite the plenty of empty stools around them. Maybe he’s lonely. Maybe he’s just a weirdo. Whatever this guy is, he recovers quickly. “You can’t exactly get a Coke with three cherries from your neighborhood grocer.” “You can if you make it at home.” The guy’s mouth quirks. “Then I’m here for the wonderful atmosphere.” Now that Dick is facing him, he can see that the guy has bright red hair that curls in front of his forehead, wind-blown like he spends his life riding on top of a bullet train. His eyes are green and practically every inch of visible skin is sprinkled with freckles. “If you’re looking for atmosphere, you’re sure as hell not going to find it here,” Ric says. “This place is the pits.” “Then how come you’re here?” Ric shrugs. “For the moldy buffalo wings and terrible service, of course.” The guy laughs and, for whatever reason, Ric gets the impression that it’s the first real laugh he’s had in a long time. The bartender serves up his soda, cherries and all. “I’ve got to be honest, Blüdhaven is even worse than I remember it. Ever since that bat guy disappeared, it’s like all I hear about Blüd now is how much the crime has escalated.” “Nightwing,” Ric corrects before he can stop himself. “His name was Nightwing.” “Right, Nightwing. What do you think happened to him?” He got shot in the head. Not that Ric can tell that to a complete stranger. Then again, he’s been meeting far too many “complete strangers” lately who turn out to be anything but. They try to worm their way into Ric’s life as if they know him, as if they have some kind of a claim on him. “Have we met before?” he asks. He tries to do it casually to cushion the blow of completely changing the subject, but it’s hard to remember what casual even is anymore. “You seem...familiar.” The guy plasters on a smile. “Just have one of those faces, I guess.” “Says every person who’s ever pretended not to know someone.” That gets another laugh. Maybe he’s just a happy guy? Definitely not from around here, then. “I’m from Central City, actually. Just here for the weekend. I was trying to track down an old friend.” “And did you find him?” The guy’s eyes dim, but he keeps up some of the smile, like he’s mourning a memory. “Nope. He skipped town pretty recently and has been missing since.” “Sorry to hear that.” The guy drinks his soda. “How about you? What keeps you in a place like Blüdhaven?” “Believe it or not, this is the only place I’ve been in so far that’s felt like home.” He’s already buzzing from the beer combined with the whiskey this morning and the vape he bummed off a couple guys earlier. Might as well go all in. “I got shot in the head a while ago and since then, I’ve been a clean slate.” He points to the scar on his scalp, but he doesn’t have to. A goddamn aircraft could see that thing from orbit. “It’s hard to figure out ‘home’ again when every place you go is filled with too many people who know and care about you, you know?” “You and I have very different definitions of ‘home’ then. The way I see it, home is wherever the people who love you are.” “You’d be surprised. It’s more like leeches, really. Or a landlord begging for rent even after you’ve moved out. It’s fucking exhausting.” He gulps down the rest of the beer and gestures to the bartender for another. Then he holds out his hand. “I’m Ric, by the way. With a C.” “Wally. With a W.” “That’s a tragedy.” “And Ric isn’t?” That makes Ric laugh. The weird part is that, at the heart of whatever this is, there’s something natural about laughing with this random person. Wally. It feels familiar, like this is someone important, as insane as that sounds. He blames it on the alcohol, but he could almost convince himself that this Wally guy is something vital he’s been missing. But Ric has seen the files Batman showed him while he was futilely trying to jog Ric’s memory. There was nothing about anyone named Wally in there, so he’s in the clear. “So,” Wally says, “amnesia, huh? And I thought I had problems.” “You have no idea. Weirdly enough, the amnesia part isn’t even the worst of it. I can deal with having no memories. The real problem is everyone else’s memories trying to force their way into mine. Everybody remembers me as somebody else, but they can’t understand that the man they knew is long gone. It’s pathetic.” “Can you blame them? If someone I loved forgot who he was, I’d want to bring him back too.” “Then you’ve never had to deal with lost memories before. Everyone talks about how amnesia can be a blessing in disguise, giving you a reset on life. But it’s more like being dropped in the middle of a sports game where you don’t know the rules or who your teammates are, and everyone’s waiting for you to just get with the program and kick the ball somewhere.” Wally bites a cherry off its stem. “What I wouldn’t give for that.” At Ric’s questioning look, he says, “I have two kids. Twins, Jai and Irey. They’re...they were incredible. They were the lights of my life. Then there was...something happened. I lost them both, and now all I have left of them are memories. But I swear to god, sometimes it feels like having the memories hurts a million times worse than losing them in the first place.” Well, shit. By the looks of him, Wally can’t be more than twenty-four, twenty-six years old. Losing two kids so young must be hell on earth. That Damian kid said stuff about how Dick was like a second father figure to him and how when Damian was dead, the greatest relief after coming back was that Dick wouldn’t have to mourn him anymore. But Ric doesn’t remember any of that. If he ever did lose Damian like he said, it means nothing to Ric now. Dick may have lost a child, but Ric didn’t. Wally swallows thickly, drinks his soda until his throat clears. “So trust me, I get wanting to forget. But if you want my advice, I say hold on to your family for as long as you can, even if you don’t want to. You never know how much time you’ll have with them.” Ric honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. “I’m...I’m sorry, man.” Wally clears his throat, forces a smile, but each one is dimmer than the last. “It’s fine. But you see why I don’t drink.” He doesn’t elaborate, but Ric gets the message: Because if I did start drinking, I would never stop. “I can’t even imagine losing someone like that,” Ric says, sipping his fresh glass of beer. “I know my parents are dead, but my memories are so messed up that I don’t remember much of it. And even though I can’t remember anything after that day, it still feels like it happened twenty years ago. I’ve never had to grieve anyone but myself.” “It helps to have people around you, for one thing. That friend I mentioned, the one who skipped town? We used to have a system that whenever one of us was having a bad day, we’d go down to that gay bar a few blocks from here and stay there until we forgot what we were upset about.” After a second, he asks, “You ever been there?” Ric resists the urge to grimace. “I’m straight, actually. That kind of stuff...it’s not really my thing.” Wally blinks at him. “You’re kidding.” “Excuse me?” “Nothing. That’s just...surprising.” “Okay?” This wouldn’t be the first time someone’s accused Ric of being queer. Just because he likes mesh shirts and the occasional crop top doesn’t mean he’s gay, okay? He’s as straight as an arrow. “No, that’s not—I mean...I don’t know what I mean.” Wally shakes his head. “It’s easy to forget that not everyone lives the same life you do, I guess.” Ric clinks his glass with Wally’s. “Cheers to that.” Ric can’t explain what about this conversation makes him feel more comfortable than he has in weeks. Maybe it’s the beer. Maybe it’s the human interaction with someone who isn’t another bar-hopping asshole or part of his old “family” trying to bring him back to a home that isn’t his. Ric has spent so long driving strangers to their destinations in his taxi, sleeping under a new roof every night, gambling his money away and drinking himself into oblivion as long as he can afford it. But here, with Wally, he feels settled. His head clears, and it’s such a foreign sensation that he stops for a moment just to let himself soak in it. “How long are you staying in Blüd, Walls?” He doesn’t mean to say the nickname, it just slips out of him like a bar of soap between slick hands. Wally doesn’t seem to mind. He even smiles, and Ric can’t help but wonder if the friend he was talking about used to call him that. “This is my last night, actually. I’m going to this mental health facility in Nebraska for a while to recharge. I just wanted to see my friend one last time before I left.” “I’m sorry you couldn’t find him.” “Yeah. Me too.” Wally downs the rest of his drink and stands, tossing a few bills on the counter. “I should probably head out. It was nice talking to you, Ric.” Ric shakes his hand again. “You too. Track me down if you ever find yourself in Blüd again. It’ll be nice seeing a familiar face for once.” “You got it.” Wally turns to go but stops at the door, one hand mid-twist on the knob. He looks back at Ric. “Don’t forget me again, okay?” He’s gone before Ric can answer, the door closing behind him. Ric was lying before, when he talked about the worst part of being an amnesiac. The worst part isn’t the missing twenty years, or the annoying family members, or the fact that he can name all fifty states but can’t remember whether he likes mustard or not. It isn’t any of those things. The worst part is knowing about the past that waits for him to sink back into it even though he can’t, no matter how hard he tries. It’s struggling with the fact that he has a whole family he doesn’t recognize but who loves him more than he’s ever seen a person be loved before. It’s seeing that love, witnessing the lengths they go to just to have their Dick back, but not being able to feel any of it because that isn’t his life. It’s not Ric’s love to have, and it never will be. Dick Grayson may be dead, but the love he earned is eternal. And that, right there? That’s what hurts the most.

#whumptober 2020 #ric grayson #dick grayson #nightwing #batman #robin #wally west #kid flash #the flash #birdflash #titans #teen titans #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic #no.15 #memory loss

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thelordstears · 3 years

Text

I think it’s time to show some lines and how much I’ve improved eh?

“ You see, we're all living our lives confined in this little, locked room, we store our thoughts here, our dreams, our doubts, our darkest confessions. But the right people come along with a key and find the real us quivering in a corner of ourselves we fear with all our fuckin' might. All of humanity fears. And so in the span of a blink life created death to separate what is bad, and what is good. “ - Shawn Werdelstein

“ I look deep into my eyes and I swear I can see her darkness flickering in my damn eyes, she took my heart in her murderous stride, flaying me of all my salvation, tellin' me I was nothin' more then livestock on her farm of delicacies and delights. “ - Lupin Rinderez

“In the end I was never really human in the eyes of those who hate me, was I? I was always a toy to those more wicked then I, and so I have rotted in a chest of forgotten dolls and stitched together souls lost to time." - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ Some men are born for prison. They're raised in a cell, and told this is all you can ever be, and when they finally scratch their way out of that prison, they start to get homesick, so they find themselves a new cell, a new Hell, a new home away from home. Chaos is peace ta the broken man. “ - Francis Killvawhile

“ Karma doesn't care about how small the sin was, she just reaps. “ - Scarla Scottaine

“ There's something foreign about an empty bed, something unfamiliar about holding my own hand, it's like love is a language we speak, and when it leaves us we can no longer speak the language of the loveless, because we're already native in the country of love. “ - Finn Desandra

“ The darkness of my past caught up to me and killed the kind pure hearted man I thought I'd forever be, I was always doomed to become a reflection of my father. But with these bloodied and cracked pieces of me I'll bleed him with broken pieces of his reflection. “ - Alviro Conritz

“Isn't it funny? How men and women alike will pull a trigger on another when faced with a gun at their own heart, held steady in the hand of a man who never misses?” - Remington Burlwitz

“ I am Eve luring Adam to his fate.” - Belle Nalroma

“ I am a grave of fireflies and ravens whom head out to war, a wolf of death and anguish that drove me to madness. Don't you call me a freak, I'm just a little bit different, my mind is an eternal state of flickering emotion and madness that has never left me be. In truth the firing of this rifle is the only thing that keeps me alive, it is the beating of my heart and the howl in my soul, so dare you fire back with pieces of your heart shattered in the bullets? “ - Luther Woolhaun

“ I feel like a blank slate that's always re-written. “ - Wendell Ace

"I look at who I am with judgmental eyes.” - Earl Mumford

“ Believe the tales of dead men, they have a perspective like no other. “ - Earl Mumford

“ Stepping up to me ain't a fucking war, it's an execution disguised as such. “ - Saul Northutt

“ Decaying and gentle I shall be lain to rest as the Devil the world mourned. “ - Jonkiv Kramteil

“ Look, the truth is a hard pill to swallow, but swallow it you will. “ - Simon Rossburg

“ I'm a killer and a cheat, if my dagger is unstained remember, there's etches of lives lost on the handle, do you really wanna become another scar on the wood of my blade? “ - Killgrove Butcher

“ Mercy is a surefire way to meet God, so I sling an old club wrapped in barbed wire over my shoulder and watch the river spill crimson. “ - Olivia Juarez

"They call kindness weakness, so I must be the strongest bitch in town.” - Olivia Juarez

“ My wrath comes down like a cold rain of daggers when faced with the wicked, if they ain't ready to die then they best fucking prepare for it, cause those who use the powerless as a simple stepping stone to Heaven don't deserve the breath in their damn lungs. “ - Lucille Ramaswami

“ That man, that wicked fuckin' man, 'e's an old vulture sittin' atop the Church waitin' for the holy ta fall down the steeple, 'e swoops down and picks their bones 'a love, 'a holiness, 'a morality. And den, the holy become the damned. “ - Maxwell Soderstrom

“ The Devils and snakes in the grass should fear the gardener with his shovel ready to bury the pests." - Guarva Plucker

“ Don't call me your hero, cause heroes don't kill good men." - Al Hunderson

"Brother, there's somethin' sinister brewin' in the bones of humanity, has been since the Neanderthals huddled in caves, lighting fires underneath the murky walls of a place they could call home. I'm afraid you're gonna have to be a little more specific." - Roman Hemlock "Ya can always spot the little, tinges of darkness in the bad man's eye, the little seams of pain that follows 'em." - Sandro Colorfeid

"I slither and slide into the darkness, a basilisk hiding in shadow and sin, biting into the forbidden fruit of Eden with glee and cruelty flickering in my snake likes eyes." - Vexine Hatchet

"I stood with blood on my hands and a snarl on my lip. It was from that moment on, Nico no longer were." - Nico Litchenfels

“ I'm a cutthroat fucker with his heart bared open and cruel on his trench jacket's sleeve. “ - Nico Litchenfels

"I stood like a question never asked, and then before I had the chance to give myself an answer in the echoes of my insanity, she smiled and asked who I was." - Zachariah Rinderez

"I have died a thousand times, Minerva. But you make me want to live again." - Simon Drogace

"I'm not lucky enough to be me." - Simon Drogace

“Do you ever feel like, your mind is a hammer?” - Simon Drogace

"He stood there, like a wicked omen of what never should've been, a testament to all humanity tried to kill." - Neal Marrows

"Losing yourself is a game no one can win." - Neal Marrows

"You know me, just a grave of who I was, grasping the soil wondering why it always slips between my fingers." - Sam Dellwotfire

"Someone once asked me what life before war was like, and truthfully, I've never known." - Hunter Creasey

"You spend your whole life under the shadow of death it starts to become you, and as you let the light it in, as you let your heart burst in seams of color and little figments of love and joy, that's when the shadow casts itself over you the longest. As soon as you start to live, death comes on by to greet you as if she were an old friend, and as I live through the essence of love and peace, I can see a smile filled with the lost lives of all whom ever walked greeting me on a road all too familiar." - Hunter Creasey

"I'm the mad man's greatest friend, but in the eyes of the sane, in the eyes of all whom stand against cruelty, I'm a weapon, an atomic bomb that'll level the city of peace to dust." - Moores Thomas

"It is in madness and grief we find who we really are. So who's to say humanity was supposed to live in peace? After all, even our mind tells us things we could never dream of with intrusive thoughts, and in the end some of us succumb to the darkness every single mind brews." - Moores Thomas

"You see, madness starts with a small seed the human race calls trouble, it comes in many different variants, some get in very small dosages all their lives. But mad men get a taste of trouble long before they know what the word means." - Moores Thomas

"The way I see love, it's an interesting sort of medicine. One moment it stitches together the loose threads of your heart, and in the very next it unravels you like a spool of thread." - Cornelius Combs

"I walked into the Church only to be spat out, falling down the sinner's steeple coughing up bloodied pieces of my faith." - Takizen Fruivein

"Challenging what I've become is a fools game, and my friend, I am no fool." - Allinza Harzvi

"Humanity is not inherently kind, everything we've seen, and everything we are, is proof of that testament." - Allinza Harzvi

"We are never in the same boat, we are in the same storm, facing life's darkness with different privilege's." - Caldvain Lucelo

"You know, someone once told me you have control over your own mind, but as it drifts away from me as smoke in the dying embers of a midnight wildfire, does that statement still hold true?" - Harvin Scoviney

"God does not help. He observes." - Victor Da Ville

“ You can't explain what evil means without mentioning the feared name of Cassidy Vanderberg. “ - Cassidy Vanderberg

“ I'm a hero, and I know, it's a heroes curse to go down in history, shooting her glory through the chamber of a revolver, leaving the world with the gunfire smoke of her gun, but so be it man, so fucking be it. “ - Miella Fang

“ Tragedy runs through my veins like the blood I bleed.” - Harkman Burtrow

“ You can run your hands through these cracked and yellowed pages, wondering when I lost my mind, but you won't find any answers in my chapters. “ - Mortelo Vonenwoft

“ ”You ever feel there’s jus’ this empty box where your heart’s supposed ta be? I've shoved all my monsters in this box, my addictions, my anxiety, the thoughts that don't go away. But sometimes, the box starts ta open, and I can't even push the door back, cause I'm too busy with this ghost followin' me like a yappin' chihuahua. “ - Isadore Rast

“ Everyone is always sayin' you're strong, for fightin' past that hurt, but am I? I didn't fight, I fuckin' stumbled, I fell, it wasn't just a battle, it was a god damn war I still wage. The gunfire echoes and cocaine ghosts will never leave me be, cause I made the mistake of losin' myself ta the bad side of life, and I just can't forgive myself for that kinda shit. “ - Isadore Rast

“ I'm not a recoverin' addict, I'm just a fuckin' ghost. “ - Carrigan Hopva

“ I met myself on a dead end street, she looked distraught, with chunks of hair missing, cigarette on her lip, trying to light a match in the rain, eyes troubled with memories of what would be. She told me to keep my enemies close, cause god damn, they were everywhere, but she never told me I'd be standin' in a house of mirrors. “ - Rain Morvosina

“ I tell myself, I could've done better, I could've saved the circus, but truthfully, not a single man can stop fate in its tracks, he would become another splatter on her railroad within a series of seconds and terrible events. “ - Bortosley Velltwo

“ I'm guilty ‘a first degree, of lil ol' me." - Howard Wraith

“ Oh mum if ya could see me now, sinnin' on the other side 'a paradise lookin' for reasons ta stain me teeth the color of me jacket. “ - Davy Blight

“ I ain't the poor lil' boy who shot at 'is brother with orange capped revolvers and plastic swords, mate, I'm the real fuckin' deal. This venom 'a trouble and sin flows like blood in me veins, corruptin' the essence 'a who I fuckin' was. “ - Davy Blight

“ I'm the darkness your mother says ta stray away from, the boogeyman ya're mum tells ya snatches away naughty boys and girls in the dead 'a night, and worst of all mate, I'm Lind fuckin' Blight, bastard son of the seas. “ - Lind Blight

“ I'm just old honey whiskey sitting on the shelf gathering dust and mildew, locked in this little cabin of darkness and decay, wondering why no one cares to pop open my cork and let this darkness and mold spill to the soil of a freshly dug grave. “ - Roxane Vanderberg

“ I met her in a garden 'a roses, and there she stood as the only thorn. “ - Kayella Wisp

“ I've gunned bad men down on the streets, cackling and sinful they died, cruel and wicked they lived. “ - Hoshino Akinori

“ I once went into an old confession booth, sins sat heavy at my shoulder, salvation far off as it always seemed to be, and as that preacher listened to my darkest secrets I was sure he would damn me. But he told me salvation is for all, and that God loves whosoever follows the path of the righteous. “ - Erika Vans

“ I used ta live with one foot in the grave, wondering when the hell I'd become my last name, but then I met a wise man in the woods and found myself once again. Sometimes, we're lost, and we don't even know it. So I think destiny sends us a Messiah to lead the way ta who we are, and as Pennington took my hand in the darkness, I knew I'd found who I am past all this trouble. “ - Alonzo Graves

“ I traverse this labyrinth of my heart and soul, trying to find myself in the midst of all this trouble, but these mirrors are starting to look like enemies, and this maze is starting to become a prison cell. “ - Andre Jollows

“ Deep in my soul is the sound of war calling me home, and death whispers in my bones that she wishes to hold me close as I fade gently into the stars, but I sigh strapping my boots on in the morning, putting this old gas mask on my face and facing another venomous day. For I am a curse, wondering where my blessings went." - Max Caldiph

“ If my heart were a painting, it would be a starless night sky, the trees wilted, stripped of their leaves standing as threadbare omens of the bones etched in darkness that hold me up and the roses would be black, decaying with some dead scent of mercy burning whosoever walks into this garden of death's nose. “ - Apollos Quinn

“ Who I am ain't even me, he's just someone I've been for too long.” - Drew Dreadful

“ I died halfway to Heaven and too close ta Hell. “ - Dylan Huffers

“ I was living a life of trouble and cigarette smoke, chasing lies as if I were just a harmless little kitten, batting my hands at another yarn ball, always wondering why it ran away from me, but as my mother held me in a gentle embrace and showed me the way to paradise, I found out that it's better to be you then somebody else. “ - Scottie Bloodvallo

“ My mama once told me sometimes you gotta fall and stumble to learn who you are, because it's as trouble and peace wage war that we discover who's side we're on, and as those old foes grabbed their rifles and loaded their cannons, I came to realize I never wanted trouble to become who I am. So I picked up my guns and fired a couple rounds of peace into my head. “ - Marty Thievekit

“ You wanna run with the wolves, but brother you're sparrin' with chihuahuas, ya wanna play with the big boys, but you're frolicking in a garden full of gnomes and fairies, you wanna go knuckle to knuckle with your demons, but brother you surround yourself in angels. Do you really expect to kill a man while you're swingin' plastic blades and firin' bullets from a cap gun? “ - Walton Burke

"The truth will always sound like a lie to he who doesn't want to admit he's wrong. “ - Stewart Astoria

“ I'm tied up and tangled in the webs of madness, cackling at the midnight sky as these bastards try to fire bullets of sanity my way. But god damn baby, I'm bullet proof. I take what I want when I want it, so as I slam these bullets of madness into the echoed chamber of my revolver and put a few holes in my mind do you think it'll be me seepin' through the corners of this old mental ward, or will the ground pool crimson with my sanity? Guess there's no way of knowin' til I pull this trigger, sanity and purity spilling like crimson ink in my mind. “ - Ares Malstone

“ Forevermore I shall stand as a threadbare omen of the unholiest parts of mankind, drifting away from myself like the wildfire smoke of a dying confession.” - Alastair Sambridge

“ My mother once stared me dead in the eye and said I was not so holy, one day I would sputter up all the pieces of me and succumb to the Devil inside, and I must say, the old wicked witch was right. My father told me I was just a sin, drifting forevermore into the midnight sky, and as I pulled the trigger upon a battlefield I came to realize fate vows for promises made by wicked people. So by God, I vow to die, I vow to choke on these holy pieces of me and sputter up my dying breath. “ - Alastair Sambridge

“ Who I am is such a far cry from who I was, if you looked at a photograph of me at ten years old you wouldn't recognize the eyes that smile, for as you look into the cracked lenses and into my eyes, it is not me you find. But rather, it is the insanity that swam in Calzell's eyes when I met him." - Ackilzo Thyme

“ My mother once told me that rage whispers into the ears of the broken that they deserve nothing more then this unsteady heart beat of broken bottles and cracked knuckles, but it's the ever smiling lip of peace that brings the sorrowed man back to himself. So I oughta wonder why peace keeps on scowlin' at me. “ - Varvaina Escobar

“ It seems it is the nature of humanity to point blame at those who are howling with regret, love beating empty in an open chest. “ - Sarkelus Johnson

“ Sometimes, life just fades before your eyes and ya don't have enough time to catch it, so you slowly drift away from it yearning for the gentle touch of death. But you know what? We all need a hero every once and awhile, and as Barbara lays her head against my chest, dancing her fingers across my shoulders and cheek, I think I damn well found my hero. “ -Rob Percstand

“ I don't wanna die with dreams, I wanna die with memories, man. “ - Revie Scollinew

"In the outback of Montana my tale began in crimson stained history. I look to my aunts and uncles and see murder deep inside of their hearts, but they should've thought twice before taking my heart in their rough hands, for there is something dark that's brewing inside of me, and if I were them, I would start looking underneath the bed for monsters." - Enoch Avoxin

"There's a certain truth, to madness." - Zachariah Rinderez

"Hold honor close to your heart and you'll end its beat." - McKormick McReavey

"You know, everybody says, this won't happen to me, I'm just your average everyday person, collecting my paycheck, paying my bills, living my day to day life just like everybody else. But what we seem to forget is that we're all normal people, we're all just a little bit average enough to stand out. And when these tragic things do happen to us, we stand in a stunned silence our whole world falling apart, and all we can utter is, "This can't be happening to me." - Ray Burzfoll

"If I could strip the emotion from my mind I fear I would do so in a heart beat." - Wyatt Demouchett

"Love comes and goes but power drifts on by and stays." - Dastallio Sanchez

"Darkness has intertwined itself within my heart sputtering the light from out my throat." - Cornelius Shmackelstein

“I am not myself, so what the fuck am I?" - Coraiza Scotchfuel

"Living in reality is the most cruel form of torture for a mad man." - Draven Scotchfuel

"It is as if she makes my black and white heart burst with some form of color it's never seen." - Armello Vanrick

"Perhaps it was always a mirror hiding inside of my closet." - Julie Forkroad

"The world went dark before it fell, we were just playing a waiting game." - Brooke Bergmeir

"I've got more fighting days left than you have years." - Maximo Guanch

"If everything exists, nothing does, really." - Arthur Wellburn

#writing #characters #dialogue #characterdevelopment #oneliners #books #writer #characterwriting

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dontshootmespence · 4 years

Text

Through It All

Part 30

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,013

Warnings: BABY TIME! That shit is hard.

A/N: Just fluffy stuffs, my friends.

Morgan Diana Reid and Blake Xing Reid enter the world at 7:37 and 7:41 AM respectively. Morgan is five and a half pounds exactly and 18 inches long. Blake is 18 inches and clocks in at just over five pounds. They’re beautiful. Perfect. They have Ai’s full head of hair and Kyle’s nose and mouth.

Ai is a champion. She had them both naturally (though you still contend there’s nothing natural about a bowling ball popping out of a vagina). Shortly after they were born, she passed out from exhaustion and slept for nearly 13 hours, which meant you and Spencer were thrown into the fire right from the frying pan. Honestly, it all goes by too fast to truly enjoy, but you know you’ll remember those little moments, just watching as Morgan opens her eyes or Blake moves his fingers.

Before you leave the hospital with them after about five days, you allow Ai time alone with them. It breaks your heart to hear her sobbing on the other side of the door. “Mommy and Daddy couldn’t give you the life you deserve right now, but we’ll always love you.” When you hear that you stifle a choked sob into Spencer’s chest and subsequently promise Ai and Kyle that they’ll always have a place in your family.

And then the insanity begins.

You thought it was hard with Charlotte.

Now there’s two.

TWO.

And Charlotte.

Sleep is non-existent. Maybe an hour at a time at the most. You cry about as often as Morgan and Blake do, which is a whole hell of a lot. Even Spencer breaks every now and then. But they grow so fast. Almost too fast if you’re being honest. Their cheeks get chubbier. They move more. Limbs flying as fast as a cheetah despite being about 30 times as helpless.

Sex? Even more non-existent than sleep.

It’s harder because everything is doubled, but you also have more of an inkling when things go wrong, when they’re sick, when things need to be done. Instead of wondering what each kind of sound means, you know, and you can react accordingly, so you don’t feel as much of a fish out of water as you did last time.

Right now, your fun entails sitting still on the couch with one of the babies on your chest while Spencer sits beside you with the other. Charlotte is taking one of her now rare naps at Spencer’s side. Both of you have to pee but Charlotte, Morgan and Blake are all content and it feels like you’re playing with fire if you dare to move.

Charlotte is the most amazing big sister. She insists they be included in reading time, so when their crying allows, you bring them into Charlotte’s room for storytime at night. She’s even tried to help you change a diaper but ran away when she realized it was stinky. And man are they stinky. Newborn poop is something else. Otherworldly.

During the first three weeks, you shower about five times in total. Your legs are hair as hell. Shaving takes too much time. And even though your weight is pretty stable, you still feel gross. Hygiene takes time and you don’t have it until about a month after they come home.

You’ve managed to get them on a similar schedule so they wake up and go to sleep within a few minutes of each other. Thank the gods Spencer did some research on how to sync up their schedules before they were born otherwise you’d be fucked.

Once they’re down for the night and Charlotte’s been read to (she’s very obsessed with the one about the two princesses that fall in love right now), you sink into bed beside the man you love. “I think we’ve got about two hours before they wake up again,” you say, mouth stretching out into a yawn. “Talk to me before we fall asleep. I feel like we haven’t spoken in 10 years.”

Chuckling, Spencer rubs his hand up and down your arm. “We haven’t even known each other ten years.”

“Feels like forever.”

“Yea, it does,” He sighs happily. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Just talk to me. Give me stats.”

He pulls you into his lap and combs his hand through your hair. “Luckily, that’s my specialty. Okay, so listen to this-” Even through he can barely keep his eyes open you can hear the excitement in his voice. “Women with a higher body mass index are more likely to conceive twins. Obviously Ai is one of the exceptions. Anyway, higher body fat levels mean higher levels of estrogen which can cause the ovaries to release more than one egg at a time.

“Is that why it’s so hard for women to lose weight too?” You ask, annoyance tinging your sleep-deprived voice. “Like our bodies are holding on to fat because baby making?”

“Exactly. It’s bullshit, I know.”

He continues on, saying something about twins creating their own language, which you hope happens because that would be fascinating to watch. And then he talks about how twins can actually have different fathers, though it’s rare. You want to keep listening, but you drift off to sleep in his arms, only for you both to be rudely awakened by your screeching twins two hours later.

---

A week passes and Charlotte’s terrible twos get a little worse, but you and Spencer realize quickly that it's because she hasn’t been getting enough attention, so you actively try to remedy that.

While Spencer is taking care of the babies’ feeding, you play with Charlotte. She’s getting into playing pretend now, so she’s using two dolls to reenact her two princesses book. You’re merely an audience member, but Charlotte needs to tell the story. As the days go by, you make sure one of you is taking care of the babies while the other handles Charlotte. Again, it feels like you and Spencer don’t speak for ages.

But you got through it once before, right?

It’ll just take time.

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1 @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid @lazynoodledragon @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97 @grace-superpowers @softestlavender @ssa-dr-ladylock @drprettyboy @patricks-fabulous-face @tearosaria @shxdowofdarkness @marvels-gurl @gublergirls

#through it all #the most natural thing in the world #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #dontshootmespence

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amedetoiles · 4 years

Note

give me a character meme! wwx please!!

[All gifs made by me. No stealing or reposting, thank you. ♥︎]

★ How I feel about this character

I love wwx so much and he deserves so much!!! My feelings for him can be summed up by my first ever meta in this fandom, this half-crack half-shitpost, and the many many meta tears scattered across all the tags on my page that various people have yelled at me for. I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him. No character has wrecked me as much as this stupid chaotic ass, who is so inherently good and selfishly selfless it fucking hurts. Yet, for all the love and care he gives freely to everyone else, he can’t for the life of him compute any that others have given to him. He tries so hard to be good, to make the right choices even in impossible, horrendous circumstances, and it’s excruciatingly painful watching him realize again and again that even good choices paved with good intentions can cause destruction. He suffers so much because of it. He suffers before we even really meet him. @cangse-sanren wrote “Your parents were bright smears of color and laughter to you, but little more” in this beautiful fic, and I still weep about it daily.

I love how immensely protective he is of both his siblings. He just tries so goddamn hard to be what everyone needs. I could and have and will continue to cry about him every day. How his pathological tendency to repress all things that hurt him, to cover up his pain in humor and obnoxiousness and bravado, and his internalized belief that he is worth much less than everyone else, all converged into the most awful way possible. How despite losing his sect, his siblings, his friends, he was still trying up until the very end. God, what a fantastically complex fucking character. To watch him bloom again after that deluge of rage and grief and insanity 13/16 years later was the most satisfying journey anyone could possibly depict. To know that he has the chance to heal, to recover, to grow with all the different parts of his family he once thought lost forever now back in his reach (yes! even our angry grape!!). Truly amazing.

★ All the people I ship romantically with this character

WangXian!!!! These kids who came out of endless tragedy and trauma to find a love, a trust in each other–theirs is a love story that truly extends across space and time. It warms my heart to watch them rebuild their lives together into something warmer, and brighter, and happier than either of them ever grew up knowing. To watch them shed the psychological trauma on what it means to love and be loved given to them by their terrible parental figures and say, “No. We’re going to be better than that.” I love how they complement one another. How loudly and quietly they love each other. How in the warm security of each other’s embrace, they are each able to work through their own internalized traumas without judgement. Lan Wangji’s uncompromising devotion. Wei Wuxian’s fierce protectiveness. It’s hard to say who else could fit together so perfectly. What a joy it is to watch Wei Wuxian realize that he is no longer alone, that Lan Wangji is and will always be standing beside him. What a joy it is to watch Lan Wangji realize that this is not the dream he’s spent years suffering through, that Wei Ying has returned to him against all odds. What a fucking joy it is to watch them both learn to trust happiness, to trust love, to trust each other. GOD. *wails*

★ My non-romantic OTP for this character

YUNMENG SHUANGJIE. YUNMENG SIBS. YILING SIBS. A-YUAN AND HIS TWO DADS. All the different found families that permeated the story was just breathtakingly beautiful. They all fucking gutted me. It all at once makes Wei Wuxian’s story that much more beautiful and that much more tragic. For a child who lost his parents before he even had time to remember them, who then had to rebuild his family again and again, only to lose them each time in increasingly horrifying ways–it truly fucked me up. Wei Wuxian stood on that cliff in Nightless City, and it was visibly clear that he wanted nothing more than to join all the families he loved and watched die (because of him).

The beauty of his story of course is that for all the tragedy that he is subsumed by, for all the ways that he is wronged and has wronged, there are equal, if not more, number of ways that he is lifted, is healed, is shone a light through all the darkness. In the end, his families return to him. Wen Ning, who lived despite it all, carrying the memory of his sister, the best doctor in the world. His shijie shining through his bratty nephew’s heart of gold. His very own A-Yuan, kept safe and protected all these years by his soulmate, his zhiji. His angry grape of a little brother who can’t say I forgive you but tosses him Chenqing that he’s kept safe all these years and says I trust you. They’re all a little broken, a little worse for wear, but there’s something extraordinarily beautiful about these families who find each other again through the bridges they rebuild towards something better.

★ My unpopular opinion about this character

Oh man, I’ve seen a lot of debate about wwx that I try not to get into (I type this of course as I ready myself to do exactly that). Probably the most unpopular opinion (possibly?) I have is that I don’t personally feel like the addition of a second flautist and expanding Jin Guangyao’s villain-ry in CQL detracted or reduced Wei Wuxian’s complex morality–one of my favorite and best parts to his character. I still think he is very gray. His tragedy is still contingent on his naive idealism and his willful blindness that a person only needs to be righteous and honorable regardless of reputation and politics. This clearly isn’t the case. Not just for him, but for all the characters. You can do everything right and still be punished. You can do everything right and still cause others pain. You can be the most hypocritical, loudmouthed piece of judgmental shit and still remain unpunished and available to share your stupid ass ignorant opinions on matters that have nothing to do with you. (Whoops that got away from me.) Wei Wuxian learns this repeatedly. It’s excellent and heartbreaking.

The thing about Wei Wuxian is that for all that he has imposter syndrome, for all that he is unable to see that he is a person worthy of the love he receives, he is still not only extremely confident in his own abilities and in his beliefs of what is right and what is wrong, but also that he is the person who can decide that line between justice and evil. An arrogant assumption, and one that causes not only him but the people he strives to protect a significant amount of pain. This wasn’t lost in CQL. While the plot technically does absolve him of all of his crimes on a surface level, it’s clearly not as simple for Wei Wuxian himself. In the Ancestral Hall, Wei Wuxian stares at the names of Jiang Fengmian, Madam Yu, and Jiang Yanli, whose lives are heavily felt on his shoulders, and he tells Lan Wangji, “After all, the Stygian Tiger Seal was created by me. Whether Jin Guangyao was there or not, that fact can’t be changed.” The show despite its censorship still asks the audience to evaluate his actions and the role he played, both willing and unwillingly, in the deaths of so many people.

It is also shown clearly that the cultivation world only stops trying to kill him because there was now another target, another scapegoat to blame. This is something that Wei Wuxian knows and expresses on multiple occasions on the show. For all that the show may have change things, I don’t think it’s necessarily correct or fair to say that it completely washed away the nuance that was present in the novel. The overarching conflicts and questions are still there. What is moral and what isn’t, what is justified and what isn’t, who is at fault for unforeseen consequences and who isn’t, and the role of external factors and circumstances in all of this. As someone who watched the drama first, I didn’t feel that the complexity of all the characters and their decisions was lost at all in comparison to the novel I later read. The show was honestly superb and still the best version for me overall. (Please don’t send pitchforks.) I have so much more to say about this, and Jin Guangyao still being a great nuanced character foil, but alas, this is already too long.

Other things: Wei Wuxian is a good brother actually, and he knows Jiang Cheng very well. He tried his best under the worst possible circumstances, and it was a great big shit show. I hate discussions where people try to hold one brother more responsible than the other. They both very nobly (and very recklessly) sacrificed a great deal for each other, and they both, frankly, fucked up. They’re Twin Idiots, and I’ll love and drag them both equally dammit! With that in mind, Wei Wuxian’s happy ending isn’t just him joining GusuLan sect, novel be fucking damned (yes, I said it!). His home can be in Gusu and Yunmeng. *SLAMS FISTS* Let 👏 Wei 👏 Wuxian 👏 go 👏 home 👏. (Talking to you, my grape guy. Jin Ling is going to show up in Lotus Pier one day with his da-jiu, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.)

★ One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

WEI WUXIAN PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HUG YOUR DIDI. Jiang Cheng has been waiting 16+ years for your hug, and he damn well deserves one, especially since he gave you such a great octopus hug, all limbs and burrowed scrunchy faces. Like, I know, I know, you were distraught, and traumatized, half-beaten to death after three days of intense surgery, then reaped by ten thousand undead souls calling for revenge, but guess who told your favorite (only) angry grape little brother that in the next life, let’s be brothers again okay? GUESS WHO IS LIVING HIS NEXT LIFE??????? Bruh. Chop chop. Hop fucking to it.

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dumbsnakefan · 3 years

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Thou Shalt Love

Chapter 2: In You I Take Refuge

A/N: This took longer than expected but here it is! Also, if you want me to tag you in the next chapter please let me know!

Hidden away in a small Inn in a town surrounded by only nature, Nea watched over Allen’s prone figure. A thin layer of sweat covered his nephew’s body from exertion. His mind still tried to fight the inevitable of his awakening. Well, Nea supposed that Allen was too stubborn to ever give in so easily. Not that it wouldn’t make a difference in the end. The Noah memories were like an unrestrained storm as they tore into the brain.

Letting out an aggravated sigh Nea said to himself, “Why did that bastard Cross have to die on me like that? He always manages to piss me off.” His eye twitched as he remembered the debts the man had hoisted upon his former host. Despite all his hatred for the General there were too many questions left unanswered. From what Timcanpy had shown him Allen had forgotten everything. What’s more, he had gotten younger. It was like trying to put together a puzzle without most of the pieces.

Had Cross not had answers for that at least Nea could have used his magical skills. That four eyed idiot had done something strange and outside his own abilities. As best he could figure, however, their “separation” hadn’t accounted for the Noah gene. He could laugh if not for the absolute mess of it all.

There was something strange about this memory as well. It was like none of the others as far as he could tell. Allen’s inner Noah was swaddling him in a thorny embrace, like a babe in need of protection. Compared to his own, a destructive thing that had him clawing at his skin in agony, it was soft. Nea felt an urge to pull his nephew close and never let go again. The strangeness of Allen’s memory was oddly fitting.

Lacking any new information to dissect Nea could only move on to other things. Specifically how the Noah family would react to this. Like Nea they had to have felt the surge of a new memory breaking into the world. They would want to pull him away from the dreaded 14th as soon as they could, lest he “corrupt” their new brother. A smile stretched across Nea’s lips as he swore to keep his dearest friend by his side.

What a family reunion they’d be having. If Mana had any real sanity left Nea would have liked to share one last tender moment before the end. Fate and that detestable God were not so kind as to give any Noah such a merciful gift though. They would forever seek to destroy them for being in the way. Should Nea succeed he would put an end to their farce. His brother would be freed at long last.

Keeping Allen far away from this whole affair was very important. The attachment he’d formed with Mana could turn into a crushing weight when the truth was revealed. Those bonds of father and son were already so entangled with tragedy; Nea wouldn’t let another disaster play out. Mana’s insanity could drag them all down if left unchecked.

From what Timcanpy had shown of Allen’s time as Red, his brother had been attached at the hip with him. Nea knew that he’d forgotten it all just by the way he treated his nephew. That didn’t mean that Mana wasn’t drawn to him, oh no. Even when not a wisp of Nea’s presence had been visible the Earl had targeted Allen. Drawn like a moth to a flame, they circled each other. Now under the calming lull of the Noah memory inside Allen Mana would chase him wholeheartedly.

Then there was the other Noah to consider. Road and Joyd seemed to have the strongest bond with Allen of the family. While the others weren’t as close, they all appeared interested when interacting with him. Being a true part of the family could only grow their connection. It made Nea sick just thinking about it. The need to keep Allen close and out of their grubby hands echoed from his own Noah.

Wasn’t keeping Allen by his side the best way to make sure he was safe? Those disgusting roaches that scuttled about the Order were still searching for Allen. Nea had seen how easily they had hurt their beloved comrade. All throughout the past Timcanpy had shown Nea there had been pain. His nephew’s past was a constant spiral of suffering. Taking him away from the world that was so ready to tear him apart could only be a kindness.

Tension had built to a boiling point in Nea’s body and he forced himself to release it. In an attempt to calm down he scouted closer to the bed. A new bead of blood pooled along Allen’s stigmata that Nea wiped away. Unconsciously he pushed into the contact. Warmth bloomed in Nea’s chest. Seeing his dearest friend like this, utterly peaceful, was something he’d truly missed.

His senses registered the Noah memory shift from it’s dormant state and Nea braced for another wave of pain. More blood flowed down from Allen’s forehead as he became restless. The once lax expression of sleep twisted in pain. That’s when the screaming started, scratching Allen’s throat raw. It was hard not to wince at the sheer volume of his screams.

As the screams faded out Nea felt a new presence join them. Annoyed and reluctant to leave Allen’s side Nea turns to face the intruder. Standing before him is the Demon Eye, expression a mask of indifference. Rage so obviously simmers behind the facade but Nea finds it as threatening as a wet kitten.

His smile is packed full of malice as he says, “Didn’t know they’d let you come alone to see me kid.” The twitch of annoyance from Wisely’s reincarnation is so sweet. “You’d think with how easily I killed you last time you would all be a bit more careful.” Bloodlust oozes off Nea in waves, making the air thick with it.

Only when Allen’s scream rise back up does he stop. Nea is so tempted to return to his side to comfort him. The possibility of an attack is what holds him back. Wisely would be more than happy to slit his throat and take Allen away for good; or at least attempt to. There was no way Nea would give him that kind of opening.

“Would it kill you to be nicer, dearest 14th? I’m here to give you some friendly advice after all.” The moniker has Nea gnashing his teeth. He knows that smug bastard is enjoying himself. What an asshole.

Tilting his head Wisely says, “Like you’re one to talk. You really hold the title of world's biggest asshole.” Of course the little creep was reading his mind. Even in his new life Wisely refused to learn what privacy means.

Moving closer to the other Noah, Nea glares down with cold eyes. “Cut this bullshit and tell me why you’re really here.”

“We won’t let you keep him from us.” The brat dares to step closer to Allen and Nea watches him like a hawk for a single misstep. “You can’t hide no matter how hard you try. Someday soon we’ll bring our brother home, where he belongs.”

Something in Nea snaps. Anger grips his heart like a vice. Unwilling and unable to hold back, he shoots towards Wisely. His hand wraps around the bastard's neck. Blood drips from where his fingernails bite into WIsely’s skin as Nea squeezes his windpipe. The choked panic gives him no satisfaction. Painting the walls red with his blood is what he needs now.

His grip tightens, drawing a wheeze from the pathetic Noah. “He’s mine. Allen is mine.” Nea says with unhinged glee. “You can never take him from me. I’ll kill every single one of you if you try.”

It’s only when a burst of stabbing pain sweeps over Nea’s mind that he returns to reality. He let’s go reluctantly, Wisely falling at his feet. Such a shame he couldn’t kill him, but Nea is patient. Now is not the right time to crush Wisely beneath his foot. Later he’ll make sure to make his end painful.

Between satisfying coughing fits Wisely manages to bite out, “Ru-Road said to, guh, give you a warning for old t-times sake.” The venom behind the glare he gives Nea is almost impressive. “Shouldn’t have listened to her. You deserve to watch as your world crumbles around you and you fail.” It makes him laugh, the thought that Nea would lose to the likes of him.

Wisely’s face twists up in amusement. Nea keeps himself in check as he moves towards Allen. Fighting this close to Allen could only end in disaster. Even as the rat bastard patted his nephew’s head he held back. Truly, his restraint was worthy of the highest praise.

“I can’t wait to see what our new brother is capable of. He was already such an interesting human...” The little shit was lost in his own mind as he brushed hair off Allen’s forehead. It’s a herculean effort on Nea’s behalf to stay his hand. Perhaps killing him was worth the risk after all?

However, what Wisley said next stopped him dead in his tracks. “I do wonder why the Earl is already so attached to Allen?” What? No, this can’t possibly be happening; it’s too early. “I knew that you’d have answers. There’s something slipping just outside my reach, no matter how hard I search.”

Desperately Nea snaps his mind shut to leave only unrelated drivel in its wake. He needs to throw the Demon Eye Noah off his scent. Now. “Why don’t you ask Mana yourself?” The wince he gets is a good sign. Raising his voice and stepping into Wisley’s space Nea tells him, “Now get out of my sight.”

Gold meets gold as they assess each other for weakness. Finding nothing, Wisley moves to finally leave them be. With every step Nea feels better. On the threshold of the door, however, he turns back. Body going tense Nea prepares for whatever the creep plans to throw his way next.

“Before I go, you might want to find a new hiding place. There are some Akuma out there who aren’t very good a t playing nice.” An Explosion rocks the building, punctuating his statement. The string of curses that Nea lets out would have a sailor blushing. “Hope you enjoy yourself 14th!” His smug face watches on as Nea fumbles for their things. The Ark gate behind him swallows Wisely up but Nea pays it no mind.

Screams fill the air in a terrible crescendo of horror. With Allen out of commision Nea can only run. Scooping up his struggling nephew Nea makes sure Tim grabs their luggage. Ignoring the town below he calls up his own gate and the three disappear from sight. The humans left behind in that remote town are mowed down with mercy. Chaos creeps around every corner and the scent of blood blankets the air in a red mist. No one will discover the scene of pure carnage until weeks later.

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gleefail · 4 years

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Glee Memories: 1x6 Vitamin D

A long, long time ago, as Glee was approaching graduation in Season 3, I found myself nostalgic with some rare free time on my hands. So I decided to rewatch the series from the beginning and jot down some memories, discrepancies that have arisen since, fave quotes, tally solos - all that good stuff, strictly for shits and giggles.

8 years later (eek!) and once more I find myself with an unexpected abundance of free time. With so many revisiting or being newly introduced to the show between binge watching during Quarantine and all the tragedy that has surrounded the show since it went off the air, I figured I’d finish what I started. And by finish, I mean go through the end of S3. Cause I truly cannot acknowledge what happened after that. Except for 5B.

Kicking this off by reposting the first 15 episodes I already went through. Enjoy!

1x6 Vitamin D Mr. Schue is worried cause the Glee club is being lazy and complacent. First time and still true until Sue came along to help the club.

Mmmmkay. And now Mercedes starts dressing kinda funky. Oh goody. :/

Ugh. Listen, I have adored Matthew Morrison since I saw him in Hairspray 10 years ago, but it’s still not at all appealing when he tries to lick that mustard off his own chin.

“I will hold my tongue no further.”

”You have to remember something: we’re dealing with children. They need to be terrified. It’s like mother’s milk to them. Without it, their bones won’t grow properly.”

“Ellen, that blouse is just insane.”

”I don’t understand how lightening is in competition with an above ground swimming pool”

BOYS V. GIRLS FOR THE FIRST TIME! <3

“Okay, split up: guys on the right side, girls on the left side…Kurt” *gestures for him to join the boys, not the girls* Kurt looks soooo pissed. And is such a baby-faced nugget!

A Mash-Up was just defined and used for the first time.

”We’re planning on smacking them down like the hand of God” yaaaaay, Sue’s Journal entries! I miss those. Hey, did she ever get that hovercraft she was working towards?

”Let me be frank: your husband is hiding his kielbasa in a Hickory Farms gift basket that doesn’t belong to you.”

”I’ve always thought the desire to procreate showed deep personal weakness. Me? Never wanted kids. Don’t have the time, don’t have the uterus.” #oops

“I think you should both pack up and move out of the district. Unless you wanna lose your man to a mentally ill ginger pygmy with eyes like a bush baby”

the Matthew Morrison mustard licking is even less appealing in slow motion. Ew.

Terri just wiped Emma’s mug off with her own spit. Even if you didn’t have OCD, that is not right.

“But you’re not a nurse. You don’t have any training…” “Oh please, Will – it’s a public school.”

Wait…Mr. Schue seems to be teaching music theory? WTF? Has this happened before? Since?

“She freaks me out in a Swim Fan kinda way”

“But her body’s smokin’…if you’re not into boobs” Finn re: Rachel

I don’t think I ever caught this before – Finn is rubbing BioFreeze on his legs and accidentally scratches near his eye…and you can see the effect set in and then he spazzes out. Ha! #BlessFinnsHeart

“My mom says I’m stretched too thin so I gave up homework but that didn’t help” #BlessFinnsHeart

“Puck, with respect, you’re more helpful when you don’t contribute”

“Where’s Quinn?” “Probably down at the mall looking for elastic waistbands”

“Let’s do the number and then build a house for Habitat for Humanity” oh, Finn on ‘vitamin d’. He has the mind of a child. Especially during this performance. Holy crap!

“No one at Glee is gonna judge you.” Oh, that will change Rachel.

Hahahaha, Quinn drew pornographic pictures of Rachel on the bathroom walls. I miss when Quinn hated Rachel. Just a little bit. Cause she did it so well and right now it would please my soul to see some of that.

Poor Howard Bamboo is so terrified of Terri and just pitiful. I just want to hug him and tell him to stand up to her! :(

“I see em’ together all the time – laughing, talking…all the stuff she never does with me”

Terri’s office looks like it’s the same as Emma’s…

“I am not built to work 5 days a week”

“I’ve been thinkin’ maybe that if you and I started seein’ each other on the side it might kinda cancel their thing out”

“She doesn’t like to be touched…by me.”

“Look at the two of us. You pregnant and me with psoriasus and one testicle that won’t descend.”

“Though I’ve been grouped with the boys, my allegiance still remains with you ladies. They declined my offer to do their hair in cornrows and all my artistic decisions have been derioted as ‘too costly’ because they involve several varieties of exotic bird feathers.”

Rachel’s goal is a Grammy, not a Tony. #oops

smack-talking Finn is a giant douche. Ugh.

“You being here is not good for our marriage.” “Spending time together is not good for our marriage?” She has a point…

“A lot of ants on the sidewalk today.” *long uncomfortable silence* “Pretty late in the season for that.”

oh, Ken proposing. I hated you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.

“Look, Emma, I know our relationship hasn’t been perfect. You won’t ride in my car. I can’t touch you above the wrist. Remember you cried for an hour that one time my elbow accidentally brushed by your breast? But I think about you all day long. I kiss that picture of us at the State Fair every night before I go to sleep. Emma Pillsbury, this is not an engagement ring – no, I mean it is, but it’s more than that. It’s a promise. Look, Emma, I know you have this thing about being clean. Now I can’t promise to pick up my underwear or squeegee the shower door, but I can promise to keep your life clean of sadness and loneliness and any other dark clouds that might float into it. It’s cubic zirconia. I know how effected you were by Blood Diamond.”

“Thankyousomuch,itreallyisapleasure.Whiletheboyschoseaselectionofsongsthatcastaneyeinwardontheirresponsiblelifechoicesandsexualhungeroftoday’smodernteens,wehavechosenaselectionofsongsthatspeakstothenationasawholeduringthesetroublingtimesfilledwitheconomicuncertaintyandunbridledsocialwoebecauseifthere’stwothingsAmericaneedsrightnow,thatissunshineandoptimism.” *awkward pause and Rachel finally breathes* “Also angels.” OMG. Maybe my favorite Rachel Berry moment ever.

Also, this was one of my fave musical moments (songs, singers, choreography) of all of Season One. Heather Morris is gangsta on this, dancing like she’s on crack. OMG. I love it. Every one of these girls is such a great dancer.

“Can you um…can you think of any other options I might have?” “Is that a reason to marry someone?” “That’s not what I’m asking.” See, Glee still does this – these weird conversations that are clearly about something else, but never really get finished and things are left in limbo but as if the akward moment didn’t happen, so I think I’m losing my mind when I look for the continuity….ugh. Headache. What just happened?

“You have no chance with my husband. Do I make myself clear? You might think there’s some kind of competition going on with you and I, but that’s like saying that a nail is competing with a hammer.”

“Do yourself a favor, honey. Marry Ken Tanaka. Oh sure, he’s dumb like sand, and his fondue pot of nationalities is gonna open your kids up to a host of genetic diseases…but he’s kind, and he’s generous. And he’s available.” I don’t like Terri but….truth.com right there.

“I need to talk to you, about the baby” “Is everything ok? You’re not having it right now, are you?” What?! No! Aren’t you supposed to be a nurse?”

“You want money from me?” “It’s gonna be your baby.” “Which means I’m gonna be paying the bills for 18 years – I think you can handle 9 months” Oh Terri.

Aw. My heart still breaks for Emma during this scene where she basically accepts Ken’s proposal and asks for a secret marriage. And says she doesn’t wanna spend the rest of her life alone. Gah – so sad! :(

“I don’t even remember performing.”

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day. For calling you contemptable and deplorable” “Ah, that’s ok. I didn’t even know what those words meant.” #BlessFinnsHeart

“My goals are too selfish.” Rachel. Why did you forget that lesson?

Howard Bamboo got arrested on suspicion of running a meth lab. Ha!

“You are oblivious to consequences” A running theme of this show.

oh Glee. Again with the weird situations…neither Will nor Emma even preTENded to be happy about her marrying Ken when she told him. How does neither of them address it? What just happened?

I remember the first time I saw this episode and I loved that Rachel Berry had changed to being a team player and making her goal about winning sectionals with the team. That didn’t last long. SOLOS: Finn (1), Artie (1), Rachel (1) MERCEDES TAKES THE GLORY NOTE: 2nd time

#Glee Memories #Glee #lol Glee #Glee Vitamin D

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 5 years

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A love that never leaves (10)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. SMUT, 18+ please.

A/N: Bucky’s reaction surprises her, Sam Wilson might bitch slap Steve Rogers, Bucky makes my favorite sandwich in the entire world because he is a skilled chef, and they have a memorable night together (please stop by if you would like a smut free recap).

But of course, you guys know me, so…I am sorry...

Links don’t work, so if you want to access the full ALTNL Masterlist, just click the MASTERLIST header on my blog.

Previously...

She mourns for Henry and the tragedy of his fate. Loving a soldier was one thing she never expected and the experience nearly killed her. The war trudges on, and sometimes soldiers pass through the village; while she always puts her nursing skills to good use, she keeps her distance.

Sometimes she sits by the creek, washing clothes in the cold water and thinking. She wishes she had the power to scrub her own brain clean, but no.

This is her penance, the one she will pay from now until the end of time.

To remember.

*****

MISSION REPORT

BOTH TARGETS UNEXPECTEDLY INFILTRATED BASE. UNABLE TO SEPARATE AND ADDRESS INDIVIDUALLY. WILL CONTINUE HOLDING PATTERN UNTIL OPPORTUNITY ARISES.

What did they find? Sweat beads along his scalp, freezing drips wetting pale hair. He needs to know, he searched that base from top to bottom, but he knows they found something. The Soldier was skittish, and her - well.

Something happened.

They will tell him. That he can promise.

All in due time.

*****

No one knows this, but sometimes when Bucky can’t sleep, he likes to draw.

Between the two of them, Steve is the real artist, no contest there. For Bucky, it’s not about drawing well, it’s about drawing something that helps him connect with his past.

So occasionally, when the nightmares are really riding his ass, he wanders to the roof of the tower with three things: his pink notebook of “Bucky Facts”, a blank pad of paper, and Steve’s Prismacolor colored pencils. He flips through his notebook and finds something he’s struggling with - and he draws it. For some reason, when he can transpose the memories from a bundle of echoes into a colorful sketch, it cements the idea in his head.

A paint by number puzzle. Words and colors swirled together to reimagine the past he's so desperate to remember.

Now, he sits on the coffee table in front of a woman who has no need to ever remind herself of the past. No need for clumsy outlines and careful colors; the endless infinity of memories locked behind her haunted eyes speaks of every color in the universe and Bucky wonders if he had to paint her memories, what colors could ever convey the horrors of her past.

He thinks she and the Soldier would have a remarkably similar color palette.

God, he hates that fact.

Her voice is hoarse from talking and she keeps swallowing, stubbornly pushing down the lump of tears threatening to melt in her throat. He understands why she was reluctant to tell him, why she said those ridiculous words.

I don’t think you’ll like me very much, when you know.

Everything about her seems so much clearer now. The hesitancy to reveal her past; the strange collection of items he found stashed around her home; her fear he would be angry when he knew her ability. Bucky gets it, he really truly does, but here’s the thing.

It makes no god damn difference.

He loves her. Nothing will change that.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” he hears her whisper and that’s it.

Scooting forward, he drops from the coffee table to kneel before her. Wiggling himself between her legs, he wraps his arms around her waist and gazes into her miserable expression.

“Listen to me. Do you remember when you told me not to apologize for what happened to me? That is wasn’t my fault? It took me years to even start believing that, but the moment I heard it from you, it finally made sense. You did that for me. So right now, I need you to remember those words and repeat them back to me, alright?”

“I can’t -”

“You can,” he says firmly. “What happened there, what you did - it was not your fault. Do you understand that? It was not your fault. Say it back to me.”

The words are lead in her mouth. It takes several stumbling attempts, but Bucky is patient.

“It wasn’t - it wasn’t my fault,” she finally says, her cold fingers clutching his forearms. Bucky rewards her with a huge smile and buries his face against her belly. He hugs her tighter.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he repeats, his voice muffled in her sweater.

"It wasn't my fault," she says one more time. Threading her fingers through his hair, she drags her nails lightly over his scalp and Bucky leans contentedly into the touch. They sit in silence and let the minutes drift along until he finally feels her tension subside.

A peculiar thought occurs to him, then.

“The base in Poland, where you were held. I think I know it,” he says cautiously. “Awhile back, we got a distress signal from there. I saw that chair, the one you mean. I, um, sort of broke it. Went kinda nuts and tore it apart. They stuck me in rehab after that, but - totally fuckin’ worth it.”

“Good,” she says fervently, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm. Bucky reaches up and catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and trying to lighten the mood.

“Well hey, so - you met Carter then,” he says with a grin. Her lip trembles slightly, but she tries to smile.

“I did,” she confirms.

“Wish you could’ve met under better circumstances, you would’ve had a lot in common. Steve loves telling people how often she’d bust my balls.”

Bucky tickles her and she huffs out a breathless laugh and squirms away. He feels a thousand times lighter when he hears a playful note return to her voice.

“Something tells me you probably deserved it Sergeant.”

“Won’t argue there,” Bucky agrees and stretches up to plant a firm kiss on her lips.

*****

The sun is setting when she asks if she can have some time alone. Bucky can see the struggle in her face - reliving nightmares is exhausting.

“I’ll just be outside,” she says quietly, shrugging into her coat. “Need a few minutes to - think, I guess.”

“Hang on,” he says. Going into the kitchen, he flips on her electric kettle, pulls her favorite purple mug from the cupboard, and plops a teabag inside. Grabbing her biggest quilt, he fluffs it open and wraps it tight around her shoulders; once the kettle sings, he hands her the steaming mug of Earl Grey and drops a kiss on her nose. “There, now you’ll be warm.”

For a long moment, she stares at him. Bucky watches her bite her lip, steeling her nerves to speak. He waits expectantly, his hands running lightly up and down her arms to warm her, but nothing happens. Whatever she wanted to say disappears and she looks down.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“Anytime,” he says softly and opens the door for her. She steps onto the cold porch and sinks onto the top step, tipping her face toward the setting sun. Bucky shuts the door with a click.

Everything changes.

Stalking to the kitchen counter, white-hot rage fills his chest. Snarling at the offending photos, he snatches his phone and dials Steve, and before the phone finishes the first ring, a blond head appears.

“Whaddaya got?” Steve asks, as he rummages through the fridge.

“Are you ever not eating,” Bucky scowls and Steve grunts.

“I’m a growing boy. So?”

Rubbing his forehead, Bucky tries to organize his thoughts and figure out where to begin. The clink and clatter of silverware keeps coming through the phone and then Steve’s piling leftover containers in his arms and dumping them on the counter and out of nowhere, Bucky loses his shit.

“Steve, can you - can you just - I need you to - god fucking dammit Rogers, sit the fuck down!”

Steve jerks to a stop when Bucky’s voice scales up. Considering him for all of three seconds, Steve dumps the mess of leftovers - which all have THESE ARE SAM’S DON’T TOUCH written on them in black marker - without a word and walks away, sinking into an armchair.

“Sorry. I’m listening.”

The whole thing is insane and Bucky has no clue how to begin.

So he just starts talking.

About the woman who saved his life when he was bleeding out in a blizzard; how she called him Soldier and brought him to her home and sewed him up. How he shoved a butcher knife to her throat in thanks, before she told him the story of how she met him years ago. How her words helped him remember that bloody night in Paris.

He tells Steve about deciding to stay, about her potato soup, about how he remembered Steve telling him about the letters he got from his girl during the war, and how it felt when Bucky realized he was the Jimmy she wanted that night. He relays the story of how they met during the war and Steve sucks in a shocked breath. Bucky tells him she kept all his letters and how she let him read them again and how he asked her to marry him the last time they were in the village and if he sees tears fill Steve’s eyes, he forces himself to ignore it.

He keeps talking.

About discovering the information at the base, photos and information about the original soldier trials and how there must be someone who fired up the signal, because Bucky found recent blood and a clean black glove. He tells Steve about her ability and what Hydra did to her all those years ago and he can hear Steve’s teeth clack together, can see the furious tick in his jaw.

It smooths away for a moment, when Bucky recounts the story with Peggy. Steve always was a sap.

Bucky tells him almost everything, but saves some things for himself; he figures he deserves to have a few memories that are all his own.

Well, not just his. Theirs.

When he finishes, Steve is silent. Bucky can see the thoughts swing dancing through his brain as he works it out. Finally, Steve clears his throat.

“Okay, that’s a lot to unravel. I’m gonna have some questions, but for now I’m just gonna go with it. Sounds great.” Bucky snorts and Steve just shrugs. “What can I say? It’s fuckin’ weird, but we’ve seen weirder. I trust your judgement. Tell me what you need.”

Yes, Steve Rogers can be a massive pain in the ass, but Bucky sure fucking loves him.

“Alright. The first distress signal we got was that base near Krakow, where she was kept,” Bucky says. “They were testing soldiers there and I found more evidence here - it can’t be a coincidence. I think there’s something or someone connected, I just haven’t found the link.”

“Let’s assume you’re right,” Steve says. “What next?”

“I’m going back into town tomorrow to see if I can dig up anything else. Can you look into that Hydra fuck who was chasing her? See if there’s something we’re not seeing?”

“Got it,” Steve answers. “Say the name again?”

“First name Wilhelm, last name Richter, Romeo-India-Charlie-Hotel-Tango-Echo-Romeo,” he rattles off. “I vaguely recognize his face, but I was still new when he disappeared, and those early memories are shit. I think the story was that he deserted, but that’s all I got.”

“Going to the lab now,” Steve heaves himself to his feet and walks swiftly toward the elevators. Smashing the button, he waits impatiently and then looks down at the phone, his expression softening. “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?” Bucky says distractedly, craning his neck to see out the window. He can still see her sitting on the steps, gazing pensively into the coming night.

“You got your girl back. I’m - hey. I’m really fuckin’ happy for you.” Surprised, Bucky looks down at the phone and sees Steve giving him a crooked grin. “You deserve this. Don’t forget that.”

Bucky nods, feels his face grow warm. “Yeah. Thanks man.”

“I’m coming out to see you both, soon as we get this sorted,” Steve warns. The elevator in front of him dings and Bucky barks out a happy laugh. The idea of his best friend staying at their house like they’re an ordinary couple, with a boring life and annoying friends who crash on their couch - it sends cozy domestic tingles skittering up his spine and he can’t fight the idiotic grin.

“You got it.”

Steve gives him a goodbye salute and the elevator ends the call.

*****

“I was thinking,” Bucky says an hour later.

Dressed in his old sweatpants and ratty Captain America t-shirt, he’s slouched against the arm of the couch. Curled tight against him, her head is tucked into his shoulder. She musters a tiny smile when she looks up. “Should I be nervous?”

“Hey,” he pouts. “It’s like you assume I’d have crazy ideas or something.”

“When the shoe fits,” she murmurs, poking him.

“Very true.” Placing a finger under her chin, he tips her face up and gives her an exaggerated kiss. “But it’s not that crazy. How about I make you supper?”

She perks up at the suggestion, her strained smile morphing into something real. “I’d love that.”

Scrambling from the couch, Bucky grabs her hands and lifts her up. “Come keep me company,” he urges, guiding her to the kitchen counter. Tugging a blanket tight around her shoulders, she shuffles with him and hops up on a barstool. Even through the layers of sadness, he sees a glimmer of happiness spark in her eyes, and honestly?

That’s all he wanted.

Digging through her drawer of kitchen towels, he finds a green polka-dot apron and ties it around his waist with a flourish. Pulling a hair tie off his wrist, he coaxes the strands into a messy bun, and then cracks his knuckles for good measure.

“You definitely look the part,” she compliments and Bucky winks.

“Alright, so this is a Bucky specialty,” he says confidentially. Rifling through the cabinets, he sets a skillet on the stovetop and starts assembling the ingredients: bread, butter, honey, peanut butter, and three bananas. “I make excellent cereal, exceptional frozen pizza, and this - fried peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches.”

She wrinkles her nose skeptically. “That doesn’t sound like a real thing.”

“Darlin’,” he says, reaching over and tapping her on the nose with a spatula, “where’s the trust?”

Finally. Finally, he gets the sound he wanted.

A small laugh escapes.

“You’re right. Sorry Buck,” she says, and when he sees the adoration in her eyes, he thinks his heart might explode.

Ten minutes later, he slides the gooey sandwich onto her plate and if she still looks skeptical, she gives him the benefit of the doubt. Taking a small bite, she chews for a moment and looks up in surprise.

“This is fantastic!” she exclaims. Bucky grins and takes a huge, messy bite; peanut butter drips onto the plate, a bit of honey gets stuck in his beard, and a few bananas tumble out.

“Got lots of hidden talents, just you wait and see.”

*****

One bottle of wine, and four sandwiches later, Bucky sees her stifling a yawn and proclaims himself exhausted and ready for bed.

“You go on up,” he tells her, “I’ll be there in a sec.”

While she makes her way upstairs, Bucky does a methodical loop around the small cabin. He checks, double checks, and then triple checks every single lock; every window and every door, even the fireplace flue, gets a thorough review. Once he’s satisfied, he flips the lights off and stands at the living room window, letting his eyes adjust. Feathery snowflakes are swirling again and as he glares into the moonlit night, he finds threats lurking everywhere.

The wind whistling through the trees beyond the front door. The shadows beside the weatherworn walls of the woodshed. The meandering flow of the icy creek down the slope. Before it felt peaceful and idyllic - now it seems harsh and sinister.

It infuriates him.

What does he have to do to have a normal god damn life with her? Why is there always something standing in their way?

“Whoever you are,” he mutters, “and whatever you want, you stay the fuck away from her.”

But the night keeps it’s dark secrets. With a vicious sneer, Bucky heads upstairs.

*****

Flickers of blue and orange dance merrily in the fireplace, casting a warm glow around the dark bedroom. Padding silently to the doorway, he stops.

And he drinks up the image hungrily, slotting it into his newly built box of favorite memories.

Huddled on the bed, her knees are drawn up to her chest and she gazes thoughtfully into the flames, her chin cupped in her palm. When he clears his throat, she looks over with the ghost of a smile.

“Hey, you,” Bucky says quietly. Walking to the foot of the bed, he waits nervously. For what, he doesn’t know, but it feels like the right thing to do.

Sitting up on her knees, she leans forward and skims her hands lightly up his chest, circling his broad shoulders and trailing down his arms. When her fingers brush over his hands, one a little sweaty, one always cold, she picks both of them up together and drops a kiss on his knuckles.

It nearly makes him cry.

Instead, he curls a wide hand behind her neck and finds her lips. The kiss is deep, his tongue rubbing gently against hers and it feels like heaven, sizzling hot and full of fire. God, her kiss could bring him to his knees.

But rather unexpectedly, she breaks away.

And Bucky feels his entire world tilt when she sheds her t-shirt, before eagerly meeting his lips again. Frozen in surprise, he feels her guiding his hands over her body, until his fingers are splayed across her bare skin and this time he breaks the kiss with a strangled groan.

“Are you sure?” he says hoarsely, staring intently while he struggles to keep his hands from roaming. “We don’t have to do anything, I don’t expect - “

“Please, Bucky” she interrupts softly, her cool hands skimming down his chest and he tightens his abs reflexively. “Please?”

There’s no way on earth, he’s telling her no.

Cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing lightly over her nipples, Bucky moves in for another kiss. Metal and human, his fingers circle her breasts, pinching and rolling the sensitive skin until she’s panting into his mouth and he drinks down the sweet sounds. He feels her bunching up the fabric of his shirt, wordlessly asking him to remove it, and he wants to feel her skin on his more than anything, but then his stupid head gets in the way again.

“My - my scars and everything, they’re not - it ain’t pretty,” he warns. “I know you saw them when you fixed me up, but this is different. I know that, you don’t have to - I mean, I can leave the shirt on, if you - you know, if you want.”

“No,” she says fiercely. “I want you, Bucky. All of you.”

The words are magic and Bucky sags with relief. Taking a deep breath, he crosses his arms and and he shakes only a little when he pulls the shirt off. It drops from numb fingers, and the web of thick scars looks surreal in the firelight, smooth and dark pink. He watches her eyes find the pattern carved into his skin, five ropes of raised tissue clearly outlining his attempt to claw the damn thing off in some past life.

Fucking Christ, he hates this part of himself, he really fucking does.

But of course, it doesn’t faze her.

Bringing her mouth to the joint of his shoulder, she presses her lips to his scars, and each line Bucky unwittingly scratched into his body, she memorizes with her tongue. On and on, her mouth moves against him and when she finally stops, the puckered skin feels warm for the first time in his entire life.

In disbelief, he stares at the unfiltered love in her face and he feels the faint burn of tears pricking his eyes.

How the hell did he ever got so god damn lucky?

With a rush, he slants his mouth back over hers, and pushes her back into the fluffy blankets. Crawling hurriedly over her, he settles between her legs, never breaking the kiss, while he reacquaints himself with everything. The tiny noises she makes, the feel of her body beneath him, the insistent way she rolls her hips against him. Every bit feels perfect and Bucky loses himself in her, time immaterial as he does his best to take her apart.

Because if she really does have to remember everything, well - Bucky's damn well going to give her something incredible to remember.

When her fingers trail down and hook in the waistband of his sweats, desire zings straight to his dick and he’s so close to just going with it, he really is, but god dammit, he’s a moron who’s unable to let himself be happy, so once again, he breaks the kiss with a reluctant hiss.

“Fucking hell. Wait, wait, before we do anything, I’m sorry, but I need - I have to tell you, I gotta be honest,” he rasps urgently, cursing himself in every language he knows. “There are - there were - there have been others. Through the years, I’ve been with other people. During - when I was with them. And then a couple others since I came back.”

Okay, maybe Steve Rogers isn’t a cockblock after all.

Maybe Bucky Barnes is his own god damn idiot cockblock.

Shame wells up and he tries to look away, but she immediately turns him back.

“Bucky, no. Don’t. I assumed. It was seventy years. Of course, there were other people,” she gives him a crooked little smile. “There were others for me too, sometimes. When I needed to - to cope. With the loneliness.”

There’s a wild flash of anger at her words, not directed at her, not even directed at the nameless lovers in her bed, but directed at the circumstances that put them on this path; they deserved better than this. But regardless, he needs her to understand something.

Something that shapes everything they are together.

“It was only ever you though,” he promises heatedly. “Deep down inside, it was only you. It’s only ever been you. I need you to know that.”

“I know,” she says, and she tugs him down for another toe-curling kiss.

This time, finally - he goes with it.

“I want to memorize every single inch of your body,” he murmurs. “Don’t want to ever forget again.”

So he starts at the top.

He kisses the curve of her shoulders, the delicate skin over her collarbone; he licks and sucks at her nipples until her skin feels chaffed from his rough beard. He pulls down her sleep shorts as he moves lower, fumbling awkwardly with his own sweats and tossing them both over his shoulder. At first he skips what he really wants, and instead searches out the fragile bones at her ankles, traces the smooth muscle in her calves, nips the skin behind her knee.

He holds himself back until he can’t take it any more.

And then he buries his face between her legs with a groan.

She tastes like heaven. Fuck, how did he live this long without having her on his tongue every single day? He feels her knees tip inward self-consciously and he gently pushes them open, keeping them pinned to the bed because he’s planning to stay here forever if she'll let him.

Looking down, she finds him watching intently. His dark hair tickles her thighs, his bright blue eyes burn her from the inside out, and her entire body begins to tingle. Fingers flex, toes curl, her breath comes fast and rough, and then Bucky sucks her clit hard and pushes two thick fingers into her.

Strung out and floating, she grab fistfuls of his hair and moans.

Bucky grips her leg tight and breaks away for a split second to speak.

“Come on honey, let go for me,” his voice is a low growl and she glances down to see him grinding his hips into the bed, searching for his own relief, and it’s that flex and roll, the way his muscles bunch so beautifully, that tips her over the edge. With a cry, she comes hard, clutching his face to her as the orgasm shivers through every cell of her body.

“Oh god,” she rasps, “oh god, Bucky.”

It thrills him beyond anything, the sound of his name like a prayer on her lips.

“So good,” he murmurs, still continuing the light strokes of his tongue. “You taste so fucking good.”

“That was - that was - god, Bucky” she mumbles, tripping over the words. Mouthing at the curve of her hip, he hums delightedly.

“Just getting started. Can you turn over for me?” he asks gently, and she blinks slowly, before her smile follows. Rolling to her stomach, she stretches languidly, wrapping her arms around a pillow. “I hope you have another one in you,” Bucky says lowly, giving her bottom a playful squeeze.

“I think I can manage,” she says, her voice muffled, and Bucky huffs a laugh. Planting a kiss at the base of her spine, he works his way north, his tongue tracing every bump along the way. Up, up, up, his lips cover the knobs up her back and his fingers follow, warm flesh and cool metal walking up her ribcage, until he reaches the back of her neck. Licking a slow line up, he mouths at the smooth skin behind her ear and her body twitches at the feel.

Nudging her legs open further, he shifts his hips and reaches a hand down to grip himself tight. Willing himself to stop shaking, he rubs himself between her legs, and finds her so wet and so slick from the orgasm he gave her just moments before. With his lips at her ear, he whispers his favorite words in a low rush.

“I love you,” he tells her, before he pushes himself inside.

At the feel, he goes utterly still.

It rattles him down to his god damn bones, this love he has for her - she can feel him trembling above her and she glances over her shoulder to meet his wide-eyed stare.

“I love you too,” she breathes, and her voice is the anchor he needs. Blinking rapidly, he dips down to kiss her cheek.

And he starts to move.

All Bucky knows in this moment, is her. The tight feel of her on his cock. The way her skin holds a hint of salt. The way she shudders every time he bottoms out. Every nuance of her body that he must have memorized in his past life.

Sliding his hand beneath her, his fingers find their way between her legs and he strokes her clit with every slow rock of his hips. Against the backdrop of dim light from the crackling fire, the room fills with the delicious sounds of pleasure, quiet grunts and the sharp catch of breath and the rustle of fabric as a body slides over silky sheets.

Dropping his mouth to the pulse at her neck, he sucks gently, insatiable for the thrumming feel of her heartbeat laid bare on his tongue. When he hears her breathing harder, sees her hands gripping the bedsheets tighter, feels her body beginning that faint tremble again, he abruptly changes his mind.

“Wait, please wait,” he begs, pulling himself carefully from her body and rolling her onto her back. Wide eyes meet his and time stops.

Spread out beneath him, she is sheer perfection.

Before she can speak, Bucky captures her lips again and shoves himself back into her.

And maybe it’s the strangest thing, but even without the memories to guide him, that muscle memory branded into his heart knows what to do. Just like their first time together, Bucky pulls her leg up and hitches it around his waist, thrusting into her harder. Unable to speak, unable to even look away, they watch each other, both devouring the small bits they find, in case god forbid, they ever lose each other again.

When her fingers curl around his neck, drawing him closer, he rests his forehead against hers.

“Bucky,” she whispers, his name catching in her throat, “Bucky.”

“I’m here,” he pants above her. Every thrust comes faster and his control begins to slip. “I’m here, I lo-love you, god I love you so fu-fucking much, never leaving you again, not ev-ever,” he grits out.

Anchoring his knees to the mattress, he slams himself into her again and again, hitting every nerve ending just right and suddenly she finds a universe of stars. Clutching his shoulders, she clings tight to him as her body tenses and she comes one more time.

Bucky stutters out a wrecked groan when he feels her body gripping him, and that familiar tingle hits his belly. Burying his face in her neck, he gives one last, hard thrust and then grinds himself against her, a strangled growl ripping from his throat when he follows her into that blissful oblivion.

Breathing hard, he keeps his eyes shut tight against her, willing his heart to slow. Against her neck, he sucks a wet line up her throat, back to her lips. Warm, lazy kisses ease them both back to reality and their racing hearts find a new rhythm.

One that beats together.

Muscle memory, in the purest sense.

When you cut to the heart of their story, there’s a simple truth: they’re so different from who they were together in 1944. Both have lived multiple lifetimes, filled with all the tragedy and heartbreak the world could dish out; it shaped each of them in ways the other has yet to discover.

But even though time has reshaped them into something new, there are some things that will never change.

Each touch buzzes with forgotten familiarity, the way she trails her fingers up his sweat-slick bicep, like something he remembers from a hazy dream; the way his breath catches with every slow thrust of his hips is a sound she could follow in her sleep; the way their bodies fall easily into a rhythm together, an unconscious muscle memory.

Bucky wants to run into the snowy night, wants to shout his happiness to the heavens. This right here, this is what the poets sing about. Every line, every song, every beat of a lovestruck heart. Here in her arms, he finds everything he ever hoped to have and in the fading firelight, he holds fast to the one truth he knows above all else.

Love like this, is worth any cost.

“You’re the love of my life,” he whispers, and she lays her cheek against his chest and kisses the sweaty skin above his heart.

Right there, Bucky knows he’s the luckiest man on Earth.

*****

The sun is just beginning to creep into the eastern horizon, but he’s been awake for hours.

Laying between her legs, his head is pillowed on her stomach. The sleep shirt she wears is tissue thin and satiny smooth; it smells just like her and keeps taking deep, cleansing breaths, trying to embed that scent into his memory. Bit creepy maybe, but oh well.

Dim rays of light begin to slip into the room, filtering through the tall pine trees flanking the window, and as the world begins to wake, she follows. Like a touch-starved kitten, Bucky nuzzles into her, wordlessly asking for affection and when she scratches her nails along his scalp, it feels so damn good, he gives a blissful little groan.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and she hums.

“I love you,” she mumbles sleepily and there’s a pleased rumble in his chest at her reply.

“Won’t ever get tired of hearing that,” he sighs happily.

“I’ll never get tired of saying it,” she answers with a yawn.

Still half asleep, he feels her relaxing, the comforting strokes of her fingers getting slower, heavier, and he knows she’s drifting back to sleep. Maybe he should let her, but there are these words he’s been practicing under his breath all night long and he’s getting anxious and he just wants to say them, before he loses the nerve.

“Darlin’?” he asks quietly, folding his hands across her chest and resting his chin on them.

“Hmmm?” she says, her voice a bit slurry as she opens her eyes. Bucky fleetingly thinks every bit of light in the world must be concentrated on her, because she’s the only thing he can see.

Heart racing, he tamps down the nervousness and wets his lips. He wants to do this right, wants to make sure it’s perfect.

“Would you do something for me?” he says carefully, choosing those words, borrowing that phrase he gave her back in 1944 and god, he hopes he’s returning them in the way she remembers.

At first, she doesn’t catch it, simply running her fingers down his arm, but her words are so naturally reminiscent of the past.

“I’d do anything for you.” Bucky says nothing, simply waiting. She’s confused by his silence, until he tilts his head and a slow smile curves his lips. Her eyes widen and she blinks slowly. “Bucky -“

The staccato thrum of her heartbeat is suddenly flying against his hands and his blue eyes are so bright, overflowing with emotion when he completes the question.

“Would you marry me?”

Time, normally an unending commodity, freezes. They stare at each other, Bucky holding his breath as he waits, desperate for the same answer she gave him in 1945, knowing it’s a risk, he’s taking a huge leap here, but unable to do anything except go for it.

“I want to marry you Bucky, I do, I want - I want it so - god, I want it so much. You’re all I ever - this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted - “

Blowing out a huge breath, Bucky starts to laugh. Bouncing up, he cuts her off, peppering her face with happy kisses, sloppy wet trails down her forehead, over her cheeks, on her nose, up her neck. Every inch of skin he can find he marks with excited lips.

“Shit, thank god, ugh thank god! I mean it this time, I’m getting you that ring. Soon as I get back to New York I’ll get it, you come with me, we’ll pick it out together, anything you want. Hell, I got decades of back-pay from the army, and I mean, I hate to brag, but I’m sorta rich now.”

“Bucky -“

“Whatever you want for a wedding, I’m game. If you want something big, that’s great. Something small, even better. Only thing I need is to have the team there, and Steve’ll flat out murder me if he doesn’t get to stand up with us, he’s a real bitch for attention sometimes.”

“Bucky -“

“And we can live wherever you want, doesn’t matter to me. I’d love to just stay here if that’s okay, if you don’t mind, I mean it really feels like home and I ain’t had one of those for so damn long, but if you wanna live in New York or hell, anywhere, I can make it work, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Bucky, I’m - “

“And I’m done with work, that’s it,” he laughs exuberantly “Stark’ll be pissed, he just made me this new arm, but I don’t fuckin’ care, I got you now, I’m staying put unless they get really desperate and -“

“Bucky, stop!”

The panic in her voice is like a wave of ice water. It shuts him down instantly. Silence hangs heavy in the room before he blows out a long breath.

“Shit,” he says softly, embarrassment pinking his cheeks. “Dammit, that was - was that too much? M’sorry, I got carried away, I just - shit, I’m sorry.”

Sitting up on her knees to face him, she reaches up and tucks his messy hair behind his ears and cups his flushed face in her palms. “No, it wasn’t too much, it was - it was perfect, that’s not it.”

“Okay. Okay, so - was it something else I said?”

She says nothing, but instead she searches his face, her eyes slowly roaming over every feature and Bucky thinks for a moment that she’s memorizing him. Licking her lips, she rubs her thumbs lightly over his sharp cheekbones and she swallows hard.

“Shit,” she says under her breath. “Shit, shit, shit. Fuck.”

“Hey now, thought I was the one with the potty mouth here,” he jokes weakly. She doesn’t crack a smile and Bucky feels his stomach swoop uncertainly. “Darlin’, what - what’s the matter?”

Still, she says nothing. Longing is so heartbreakingly clear in her face and Bucky can’t reconcile it. Suddenly, she surges forward, pressing her lips to his and he catches her, folding her up in his arms. She kisses him desperately, twining her arms around his neck and Bucky still has no idea what’s going on, but it doesn’t matter. All he wants, is to soothe whatever terrible thought is upsetting her, because this is his job, this is what he does.

He loves her, no matter what.

When she finally breaks the kiss, he tries to smile. “What was that for?”

Breathing hard, she closes her eyes.

“Just in case.”

With those words, she extricates herself from his arms and climbs from the bed. Walking to the fireplace, she slots her fingers into a tiny groove on the bottom of the third stone above the mantle. It takes no more than a gentle tug, and the stone comes away easily. Setting it carefully on the floor, she reaches into the black space it reveals.

Another hiding spot.

Whatever she collects, she stares at it for a full minute, before clasping it to her chest. Turning slowly, fearful eyes lock on his face and for a fleeting moment, Bucky conjures the morbid image of someone walking to their own execution. Climbing back onto the bed, she sits back on her heels and he sees her clutching a small silver box.

“I want to marry you Bucky Barnes. I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you, because I’ve loved you every single day since the moment we met, and I hope - I need you to know that.”

“I know, honey,” he says in absolute confusion.

“You’re the love of my life. Please remember that,” she whispers, and she sets the silver box on the bed. The lock has five numbers, and she spins each dial until it pops open. Fingers shaking, she picks up the small piece of fabric inside and holds it out for him to see.

It’s the strangest thing.

In her hand, is a ripped piece of faded blue cloth, with a familiar gray patch sewn into it; smudgy rust-red splotches color the edges like fingerprints.

Wings. Gray wings. Nostalgically familiar, because back in the war, each of the Howling Commandos wore one on their left sleeve, a mirror image tribute to the one painted on Steve’s helmet.

Including Bucky. Who wore one on the left sleeve of his coat.

The left sleeve of his blue coat.

Now, he stares uncomprehendingly at the piece of cloth. “What - “ he starts, but his voice fades. Small shivers are running through her body as she watches him, her face filled with dread. Taking a shaky breath, she whispers.

“There was one other time we met.”

*****

Next Chapter

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #altnl

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thecardsimagine · 5 years

Text

Of shipwrecks and seafoam

Summary: Let me tell you a story about a pirate and a merman, finding a love that goes beyond insecurities and death. Let yourself be taken away onto a journey about doubt and secrets, understanding and a bond that even goes beyond the deep blue of the ocean.

Pairing: Merman!Julian Devorak x Pirate!Reader (Nonbinary) Rating: Mature because of swearing and suggestive content Warning: Blood, Death, Killing Genre: Romance, Drama, Alternate Universe ____________________________________________________________

ADDITIONAL WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Near-death experience, Self-loathing, Vomit ____________________________________________________________

a/n: The last complicated chapter, I swear! Please enjoy it, it is a little different than the others because I wanted to convey a certain amount of insanity creeping up on our beloved reader. I hope you all like it still!

Tagging: @julians-chest-hair / @sireennotsiren ____________________________________________________________

Chapter 10 - Alone on the deep, dark Sea

The first two days were splendid, at least you thought they were. You rationed your food properly, you made sure to always have water and not burn too much wood. The wind was merciful to you, and you barely had to row at all. On day three, you found some salvage and gained a linen bag and some planks. You were happy, it was alright.

Sometimes, you missed the calm nights at the beach. When it got dark, you felt scared by the water bubbling around you and what could lurk underneath. But you slapped yourself whenever you got too scared, sure to keep you sane.

On day four, you got seasick for the first time. You had never gotten seasick before. You were a pirate, how pathetic could you be. Day five and you felt like shit all day, barely able to stay on course and only doing the minimum necessary. On day six, you felt a little better and found out that one of the dried fish had rotten, so you flung it into the ocean where it immediately sunk under the surface. You wondered if something might have lured, but you shook off the feeling with some better judgment.

By day eight, you had disposed of all fish because all of them had started to rot and attract flies. You only ate fresh ones now. But it was okay, not as bad as expected. Cut yourself once trying to gut a fish, and the salt water stung when you put your hand into the ocean. The thought crossed your mind that with some seaweed, it might heal better, and you hated on yourself for thinking about it.

The day after that, the sun shone for the first time without a cloud in the sky. It felt amazing, and you took it as a godsend sign that your actions had been right. For a while, you sunbathed, then you went back to rowing your raft forward, always in the same direction. Soon there would be land you hoped, and you looked forward to it a lot.

After that, everything started to go under. You were able to peel off your sunburned skin. Nevermind the dizziness you felt even though you covered your head with the bag you found. You felt sick in every fiber of your being, there was just water, water, water, sun. Fish, seafoam, bubbles, water, sun. You had made it to day ten but at what price.

Ocean, ocean, ocean, ocean.

Water, water, water, water.

You, you, you, you.

God, you couldn’t stand yourself anymore.

Scooping up some saltwater to your lips, you let it rush through your mouth before spitting it out. You lost count of how often you had to throw up by now. Did you catch something from all the fish you were eating? Was it the sun? Were you seasick? You couldn’t even pinpoint the reason anymore. But it made you weak, so incredibly weak.

Not only your body was done for by now, so was your mind. You had an infection on your hand, your eye wouldn’t stop losing some kind of secretion, and you were shivering all the time even though you were burning up from a fever. The compass had long found its place on a hook unmoving for days as you just couldn’t get up and do anything anymore. It was a wonder you were still alive and had not died from starvation yet. The only thing you did take was water every now and then.

Your thoughts weren’t better. They were blaming you for giving up, for not finding back to civilization already, though you knew that it would still have taken a lot of time to get back in the first place. But they just kept nagging and bothering you as if they had nothing better to do. Kept reminding you what you could have done better to not get so sick and not get so pathetic. You just wanted them to be quiet, and with whatever strength you had, you shouted into the blue nothing for them to shut up.

And then they cried out for Julian.

Maybe it was your heart pulling the strings in the background, but your mind kept reminding you of him, told you that you were nothing without him now. That you always had run away, that you never faced your fears. Never tried to understand him, never listened. This was your punishment, it was all your fault. You were to blame, you fucked up. All your fault, all your fault, all your fault.

At some point, you managed to stop listening.

Laying on your raft you looked up at the pale blue sky, the sun roasting your body. Ah, you loved him. You loved him so much, you never loved anyone like this before. Maybe your parents, not your captain for sure. Your captain really loved his second mate, you never had a chance. But Julian-

Julian had loved you too. Every fiber of his being had loved you, even though he was different from you. Had there ever been something as amazing as the feeling of him kissing you back, wanting you just as much as you wanted him. Even if he didn’t know it, his heart hurt because you went away, he must have loved you so much if it made him feel these things. Like on a broken instrument, the words he told you played over and over in your mind, they were bitterly beautiful.

Given, you had too much time to think about these things now. What else was there to do? You couldn’t forgive his species for what they did, and you surely could never justify him helping. If he had really liked you, even just a tiny bit, had it really been necessary for him to assist still? Did he not develop a small speck of respect for humans - at least enough to hold back on experimenting on them even if it was just for your sake? Had the pressure been too much to expect this from him?

But when you managed to set these doubts aside, another face rolled into your mind: Portia. Even though you had barely listened after she revealed what was really going on, you had never spared her previous words any thought. You remembered them as something along the lines of “No one knew you were up here,” and “You are precious to my brother.” If those were true - by any chance that she lacked the ability to lie as she simply didn’t have to, and you believed her words as she was very open with you - then Julian had spoken the truth too. No matter if he initially tried to use you, he had never put you into any danger, never telling anyone about you.

You still remembered his gentle touches when he would tend to your wounds, or even just put the seaweed tighter around your hand. And you remembered all the tones he would let out occasionally, from his whines to chortles whenever he laughed. How high his voice was when he was excited, but how melodic it could be when he was serious. And you remembered the two kisses you shared, one sheepish, the other passionate. The way he immediately went for it, even though he probably still didn’t know what he was doing at all. Maybe, just maybe, because it felt right for him too.

Rolling over you hung your head over the side of the raft, spitting out what got stuck in your mouth. You loved him so much it made you sick. And he had been right. All along had he known he loved you, he even told you. He wasn’t the stupid one, telling you ‘Things he didn’t understand’! You were stupid! It had all been you! From the very beginning!

Moving back into your position, you spread out your limbs, taking deep breaths. Oh, if only destiny had some mercy on you and disposed of you now. You would never make it back alive, probably dying from dehydration and infections before reaching any shore. A storm, a shark, a freaking mermaid, anything would have sealed the deal now. Oh, you wished you could have seen Julian only once again, made sure to apologize, listened.

Forgive him. If only your heart had the chance to tell him what love is. What a lucky human you would have been if you could have just openly told him, “I love you too!” Only once, one time. But more than ever before, you were alone now. Alone on the deep, dark ocean, where you could neither see anything to your left, nor to your right, nor below, nor above. Your life was no adventure anymore. No glorious story to tell your grandchildren. It was a Tragedy, soon to end as such, you could feel it. With the last strength you had, you cried out to anything and nothing at all.

“Julian!” you screamed, tears burning up in your eyes. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for everything!” But, of course, there was nothing reacting to your cries. “I didn’t listen! I ran away again!” Your voice cracked, being overtaken by sobs. “I broke my promise, I am so sorry!” The last sentence was barely a loud whimper, pressing out with the last bit of air in your lungs. ‘God,’ you thought. ‘Just let it be over soon.’ And as if you had been heard, your eyes wouldn’t open anymore as you drifted off into unconsciousness, limbs falling to the side of your body. It got calm around you, your tears drying out. It was peaceful, but it was just as lonely, and it made you fear what was coming next. Even if it was for the better and you had tried to find some inner peace with your last sentences, it was a tragedy, nonetheless.

In your dream, you were lucid. You knew it was not the reality, but you weren’t able to determine if this was the afterlife or a simple fever dream. Back on board of your pirate ship you watched as the opposing ship crashed into it for the first time. You had had these dream before, all the time as you had build your raft but never had you been able to feel the shaking just as much as this time. You fell to the ground, and while the ship rocked up and down, you were trapped under something. A mass you couldn’t make out. It held you down, making sure you were not going to fall off again.

That part had been new. Up until now, you always had fallen down, sinking into the cold water until you could see again and would stare into the bloody faces of your comrades. But not this time. The thing pinning you down was heavy, and it was unpleasantly wet, but as fast as the shaking had occurred, as soon it disappeared, and with it, the weight. In a matter of seconds, you were back on a calm beach, like the one you had woken up on before.

Even in this lucid dream, you could not get up from the ground, having to experience how a gooey mass started to build all around you. It took up your feet first, then your legs, then your torso. In no time you were awash with it, slowly creeping up onto your face until only your mouth stuck out. You shut your eyes tighter, trying to not get it into them. After what felt like an eternity in the mass, the scene changed once more, to a wooden dock somewhere.

You just instinctively knew it was connected to the mainland, it was what you always had wanted to reach, you were finally there! Quickly, you stood up, walking over the wood, feeling it under your feet. “Where are you going?” a voice asked, and you knew it so well. Turning around, you looked at Julian who watched you expectantly. His head on his crossed arms, he leaned on the dock, his eyes shining curiously.

“Home! I am finally back!” you laughed, not believing yourself that you had really made it. “I can’t follow you there, [Name],” he calmly noted, and your laugh disappeared, being replaced by a frown. Walking back to him, you sat down, not minding him hug your body and laying in your lap. “Please don’t leave.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” you asked, wondering about it as you very much recalled him not wanting you to leave before too. “It’s dangerous. I can’t follow where you are going, I can’t help or protect you there.” His grip on you tightened, and you brushed your hand through his hair. “If only you were human,” you mumbled thoughtfully. “Then you could come too!” In your lap, he shook his head. “No, [Name]. I can’t go there.” Questioning, you urged him to look up at you. “But if you were human-”

“No,” he said firmly, pointing at something behind you. “Look closely.”

You turned around, looking into a deep, dark forest that laid behind you. There were long, sturdy vines, tall trees, lush greens. But the harder you looked, the more everything seemed to turn into dust, crumbling the longer you watched it. Soon it was overtaken by darkness, a darkness that closed in on you faster and faster, swallowing the dock whole.

A hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek and turning it to you. “Don’t go, [Name]. Living things don’t go there, and it’s not where you belong either. Come with me,” he said, taking your hand in his. With a mild panic, you looked behind you again watching everything crumbling away when you felt his tug on your arm. This time, you didn’t run away from his touch, and you gripped his wrist just as strongly, letting yourself be pulled into the water.

Immediately, you were surrounded by millions of bubbles as you sank, deeper and deeper into the blue ocean. Your eyes wouldn’t open no matter how hard you tried to look around. But even if you panicked at first, you soon realized you could breathe just fine. Desperately you touched around you, trying to find Julian, but you didn’t have to wait long for one strong arm to embrace you, resting at your hips and drawing small circles on your back. You knew it was him, his claw sharp against your skin, but he was gentle as ever, not hurting you in the least. Something, only he would do.

“It’s okay, [Name]. I am here,” you heard him say. It was odd to listen to him underneath the water. “I will make everything right, I swear. I’m so sorry for everything.”

“You don’t have to, we can do it together.” It cost you a lot of strength to open your mouth and speak. But the minute the words left your lips, it seemed so much easier. “You’re not alone in this.” You still couldn’t open your eyes, no matter how hard you tried, but you were relieved to feel his forehead against yours, the cooling sensation feeling good against your heated skin. “I love you, Julian. I love you so much, I am so sorry for what I did.”

From his throat an appreciative chortle erupted, making you laugh, though you could only huff. He sounded so pleased with what you said. “Me too, I love you too. I love you more than anything I have ever experienced before.”

“More than any other human you met before?” He chuckled, sounding like the voice of an angel falling upon you.

“More than any creature I ever met before. In fact, more than any fish I’ve ever seen before! More than any crab! More than-”

“Idiot,” you chuckled. “Idiot yourself,” he retorted quickly, though his tone of voice was playful. “How nice, two idiots for each other,” you mumbled, voice slowly fading out. “I’m tired,” you noted quietly. “That’s fine. Sleep, and then come back to me.” Moving your head up and down in a tiny motion, you concentrated on his breathing, his hand on your back. Julian began to hum softly, a fine tune you had heard before. Once you had described it as a song that your mother would have hummed to you, but now you knew it was Julian who sung for you, letting you feel his care in the form of a lullaby. The emotions you could not understand when you saw them before, spilled out in the notes he hit, and it made you live through everything that had happened no matter if it was good or bad.

It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

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episodes-ff · 6 years

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45. Heat of the Night

Tiara

Moaning as he kissed me deeply, I hugged him close while he smacked my ass. Moving down to my neck, he licked and sucked, leaving passion marks in the process. “So good, baby.” Stripping me of my clothes, he hoisted my naked body up into his arms and laid me on the bed before cupping my breasts and massaging gently. Moving down my body, he stared at me seductively before diving into my wet center. “Baby...”

“Oh my god, baby! Oh my fucking god!” I cried out as he securely gripped my neck and continued digging me out. “Fuck, you so damn wet, girl!” At this point, we’ve been going for an hour and I was nearly reaching orgasm number five, while he only had three. It’s just something about the way his dick perfectly curves and conforms to my body that drives me insane. “Ahhhh! I’m cumming so hard, Daddy!” I squealed as he continued pounding into my sensitive opening. “Shit, I’m finna nut.” “Cum for me, baby!” Stroking faster and deeper, he quickly pulled out, removing the condom as he released on my stomach. “Fuuuuuck.” Cleaning me up, he kissed me deeply before going to take a shower as I lay there in a daze. Finishing up, he changed from his school clothes to one of the spare outfits he kept at my house before picking up his ringing phone.

“Hello? Yea yea, I’m getting ready to head up there now. You know I do. Aight, imma see you soon. Bye.” He smiled biting his lip as he hung up. “Who was that?” “Just Latrell and Anthony wondering if I’m still coming to this poker night we always do.” “But baby, you just got here! I feel like I haven’t seen you all damn week.” I pouted putting on my robe as I walked up to him. “I know, baby, but I never miss a game. It’s a tradition with the guys.” Rolling my eyes, he kissed all over me making me all warm inside, and lose my attitude. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, baby.” He husked rubbing my ass and staring into my eyes. “You better.” “I love you.” “I love you too, bae.” Smiling, he kissed me deeply before leaving my house. Something is definitely up with his ass, but I can’t put my finger on it.

THE NEXT DAY

Sincere

Walking into my first class of the day, I smiled but then it fell when I noticed Jayce not in his usual seat, or even in class for that matter. Hearing the bell ring, Tiara looked at me confused pointing to his seat and I shrugged before our teacher walked in with a somber expression on her face. “Good morning, class. As you may or may not have heard, Jayce Ellis will be absent for the next few days while he and his family mourns the recent loss of his grandfather. I expect for one if not all of you to keep the family in your prayers and I will be assigning one of you to bring his school assignments to his residence to complete during his time of bereavement. Now, for today’s lesson, we will be studying the romantic tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.” Feeling my heart sink, I looked at T before trying my best to concentrate on my assignments.

Knocking on the front door, I fastened my book bag closer to me as it held both of our assignments inside. Getting a bit impatient, I turned to leave when the door swung open revealing a shirtless Jayce as he took a swig of the Hennessy bottle in his possession. “Hey, Jayce.” “Sup.” “Is it ok if I come in?” Moving aside, he gestured inside and I walked in following him to the kitchen. Looking around for something to eat, he shrugged before offering me some of the bottle. “No thanks. I don’t drink.” “Suit yourself.” What you got there?” “Your homework.” “Oh yea. I forgot I had school. Let’s go to my room and study.” Following him up to his room, I admired his drawings and sketches as I sat on his big, comfortable bed.

“I didn’t know you sketched.” “Yea, I used to.” “Why did you stop? You have a real talent here.” “First person that ever took me fishing was my great grandpa, Reggie. He’s dead. First person that ever gave me a haircut was my uncle Nuke. He’s dead too. My grandpa was the one that taught me how to hold a pen and now he’s dead too, so I’m not exactly in the artistic spirit as of right now.” Biting my lip in embarrassment for having even asked, I looked down. “I’m so sorry, Jayce.” “Everyone’s always sorry when you lose someone important, but they’re never there when that person was breathing.” “I understand what you’re feeling.” “Do you? I’ve had almost all of my male role models torn to pieces in front of my eyes and the only thing anyone can say is sorry. I’m so fucking tired of sorry!!!!!” He yelled ripping his artwork and supplies down as I watched crying.

Going over to rip up his work next, I ran over and stopped him before he broke down in tears of his own and hugged me. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Sin.” “I know, baby, I know.” Pulling him up onto the bed, he laid in my lap and cried endlessly before falling asleep as I rubbed his scalp. “Jayce, can you come down? Dinner’s rea-“ His dad said barging in before stopping quietly as I smiled sympathetically at him. Reaching down, I held up the Hennessy bottle and handed it to him to hide in a safe place as Jayce snored lightly.

Finally cleaning up the last of the pile, I tucked Jayce in some more and grabbed my shoes to leave. “Wh-Where you going?” He pouted still half asleep. “I gotta go home, baby.” “I don’t want you to leave. I need you.” “I know but my family needs me too, ok? I promise I’ll be right back.” “Promise?” “With all my heart.” Smiling, he started to fall back into slumber as I kissed his forehead and left.

#episodes-ff #fanfiction #Symphonee #Deyjah Harris #Love and War #Sequel

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youngbloodseavey · 7 years

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close as strangers // daniel seavey

request: none but i was inspired by the song “close as strangers” by 5 seconds of summer

sorry this is so sad? this song came on in my playlist and i was like wow this could make a banging imagine so here this is ig. i didn’t want to publish something so sad so soon after the tragedy that struck our nation and stuff but i love this imagine so yup. hope you guys enjoy it as much as i love it!

ALSO, IF YOU GUYS WANT A PART TWO TO THIS WHERE IT ENDS ALL HAPPY JUST TELL ME. if not i’ll leave this as a pile of sadness bUT IF NOT JUST TELL ME AND I’LL GET TO IT

triggers: cursing, overall just sadness (i’m really sorry bout this guys)

six weeks since i’ve been away, now you’re saying everything has changed, and i’m afraid that i might be losing you,

it was the beginning of why don’t we’s first ever international tour. they were traveling across the world, playing to fans across each and every continent. it was a dream come true. well, it was a dream that included leaving every single person they loved for a whole six months.

and one of those people was daniel’s girlfriend, y/n.

“i miss you babe,” she mumbled into the phone that was pressed up against her ear. she laid on her bed, holding a pillow tightly to her body.

“i miss you more baby, but we’re almost done with the first leg of the tour, which means i’ll be on a break,” he told her, staring up at the ceiling of his bunk in the tour bus. they were somewhere in the uk, daniel had lost track. it had only been six weeks of touring, but his mind had already gone on haywire.

“i know, but we won’t even be able to see each other during your break because you have to do a bunch of interviews and shit in new york, and i’ll be here in la,” she trailed off, voice breaking slightly as tears began to well up in her eyes.

“baby, please don’t cry. i’ll be home sooner than you’ll know,” he pleaded, the image of his girlfriend crying making him impossibly sad.

“i know, i-it’s just that it’s only been six weeks of you being away and it feels like it’s been a lifetime, i-i don’t know anymore,” she managed to choke out, making daniel’s heart ache.

“please baby, only four and a half more months until i can hold you in my arms. just hold on baby, i love you so much,”

“i love you too dani.”

and every night that we spend alone, it kills me thinking of you on your own, and i wish i was back home next to you,

it had been two months. two whole months since daniel had seen the love of his life in person, and not over the phone.

he had just gotten off the phone with y/n, who had sounded more solemn than ever during their exchange. it seemed as if each day he was away she was losing more of herself, each phone call becoming more and more dismal.

he stared at the ceiling of his bunk, thinking about y/n.

how was she doing on her own? was she taking care of herself?

it had been forever since she had been completely on her own, since she was always surrounded by either daniel or the boys. how was she coping?

he almost started to cry at the thought of his baby alone. god, he wished the tour could go by in a flash just so he could kiss her, hold her, to be with her once again.

but it was a whole four months until he could. and those four months could not go by any slower.

oh, every day, you feel a little bit further away, and i don’t know what to say,

“hey babe,” she muttered into the phone, sounding tired and broken as ever. daniel’s heart broke at the sound of her shattered voice.

“hi baby, i miss you,” he said, being met with a sigh.

“i miss you too babe. how are you? how is the tour?” she said, trying to put a faux happy tone in her voice, but daniel saw right through it.

“it’s going great, it’s amazing to see all the fans and play to them. but we always talk about me. be honest, how are you doing?” he asked her gently.

“i-i’m doing great. how are the boys?” she answered vaguely, trying to divert the conversation. daniel’s heart ached at her response.

“they’re all doing fine, a bit homesick but we all are. but for real baby, how are you?” he heard her suck in a breath.

“i-i have to go now. my class starts in twenty minutes. i love you dani, forever and always,” she managed to rush out, but daniel didn’t fail to take notice of how her voice began to crack at the end of her sentence.

“i love you too y/n, forever and always,” the moment the words stopped flowing out of his mouth the phone beeped, signaling she hung up. daniel nearly threw his phone into the wall in frustration. he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it in dissatisfaction. tears began to prick at the corner of his bright blue eyes, which he hastily wiped away.

what was happening to his girlfriend?

are we wasting time, talking on a broken line?

“i-i don’t know anymore daniel,” she cried over the phone, voice crackling.

“baby, please, we can work this out,” he pleaded, tears beginning to well up in his own baby blues.

“i haven’t seen you in months dani. months. all we have are these stupid fucking phones keeping us together. i miss you so much it’s painful. i can’t keep going on like this,” she trailed off, whimpering into the phone.

“i’ll be home in two months baby, i’ll be back before you know it,” he tried to assure her, but to no avail.

telling you i haven’t seen your face in ages, it feels like we’re as close as strangers,

“i know you’ll be home in two months, but what about the next time you have to go on tour? and from the way you guys are growing, the next hundred times you tour?” she exclaimed. “i-i can’t do it! i’m going insane without you dani, and it’s only been four months. what about when you guys start touring for eight months? ten months? i-i just don’t know anymore dani,” she cried out.

“baby, please,” he said. “we can stick it out together. we’ll get through this, and i want nothing more than to kiss you and hug you and just be with you. only two more months baby,”

“i don’t know if i can wait two more months. i just want to see your handsome face in real life, not through some stupid phone screen. every time we talk it feels like the distance is farther apart than it actually is,” y/n exclaimed, leaving daniel in silence

won’t give up, even though it hurts so much,

“i love you too much to let you go. we love each other too much to let each other go. i’m hurting just as much as you are from being away. but we can make it through this, and we can make it through the next time. and the time after that. our relationship it too strong to be cut apart by distance, please baby,“

“i-it feels like i’ve been talking to a stranger lately.” she mumbled, quiet tears streaming down her face as she sat in her dark bedroom. she hugged her pillow tightly, her eyes fixed on a picture of her and daniel on her nightstand. they looked happy, in love. completely unaware of the disaster that was yet to come.

every night i’m losing you in a thousand faces,

daniel’s heart shattered with each word she uttered. she was getting farther and farther out of his grasp with each second. no, he could not lose on of the most important things in his life. but it seemed like she was losing herself even faster than he could hold on.

she was disappearing into a sea of millions of faces, drowning in a dark abyss.

“baby, please, i love you,” he whispered, as his own tears began trailing down his face. and this time, he let them fall.

“i love you too daniel, but it just doesn’t feel right anymore,” and with that she hung up, immediately beginning to sob heavily the moment she went offline.

and daniel laid in his bunk, halfway across the world, doing the exact same.

now it feels we’re as close as strangers.

#why don't we #why don't we imagines #whydontwe #whydontweimagines #daniel seavey #danielseavey #zach herron #jack avery #jonah marais #corbyn besson #wdw #wdw imagine

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gentlemenclubbbz · 7 years

Text

46. “I thought you were dead.” (Max)

Zombie Apocalypse AU, lol.

***

You were pacing around the room, panicked and scared and your head filled with worries. It started getting to the others in the group too—they all wanted to push away any grim thoughts but you were a live reminder that, despite feeling safe in this have you all created, something could still go wrong. That, no matter how prepared you were, how many weapons you had at your disposal, the crowd could still overwhelm you. Even if there were plenty of resources around and that this area was safer than most around the country, you could still encounter trouble.

And Max’s group has been missing for two hours now—of course you got worried over your lover’s wellbeing. You didn’t want to lose him right now, when you needed him the most. That would be a tragedy; you didn’t think you’d be able to survive that. If Max were to fall in the claws of the crowd, you’d surely follow him suite. He helped you so so much after the first outbreak, protecting you with his whole life, taking risks you didn’t think he’d ever take for your sake. He was there for you when you felt like going insane from all the death surrounding you, seeing your close ones turning into those flesh-eating brainless things…He hugged you and cuddled you whenever you were breaking inside and cried in despair or even felt like ending it all. He whispered comforting things, telling you that he won’t ever let you end like all of the ones you lost, that he’d protect you, made you promise that you’ll never leave him alone. That you won’t take the easy way out.

That you’ll both survive this, sure that better times will come.

And you wanted to believe him—he was the only reassurance you had in this god-forsaken world, the only one that made you keep on going. You wanted to make him proud, to show him that you could be as optimistic as him about this. After all, Max always had a smile on his face, had the ability to crack a joke and never showed fear. He was someone to be admired. He always offered to go out with a group of scavengers to explore, see how things are or if they changed. Fought valiantly (and, boy, he looked so sexy swinging that bat around, that look of concentration on his face, blood-splattered…). He was the light of the group, everyone knew that. If he were to disappear…all hope would also vanish. That was the truth.

Max left today with a forehead kiss and a rather tense smile, looking rather grim. You didn’t pay attention to him, thinking that everything was fine, like always. He whispered ‘I’ll be back…’ and you believed him.

But he has been away for too long…

“[name]…” you didn’t hear your name being called, but you felt a hand on your shoulder. You stopped walking around and turned to face the person stalling you with a dull expression. Without Max, there was no light. “Stop it. You’re scaring everyone.”

Ian made you angry with this. You didn’t care about anyone here right now! You glared at Ian, who only wanted the best for you. You knew he cared about Max as much as you did.

“They’ve been gone for hours! They should’ve been here by now! What if some-something happened to them?! What if they encountered a mob and fucked up? Huh?! How can you be so calm when Anisa’s there too, wanting to explore—“

“I’m scared too, [name]!” he cut you off, looking more frightened than you’ve ever seen him. He was the brains of the group, he was supposed to remain calm and collected. But even his façade could crumble…

You opened your mouth but had no idea what to say. However, you were saved by someone loudly shouting ‘They’re here!!’ Your heart shrank when the sentence continued with ‘Seems like they had problems, they’ve lost a few…’ You try to remain calm but you find yourself running towards the door, thinking only of the worst. You didn’t want to believe he was gone, you wanted to see that he was fine. You would give everything to see that smile one more time—

“MAX!” you yell as soon as you caught a glimpse of him, sauntering at the front of the group, holding his arm. You run as fast as you could, faster than ever, and he lifts his almost lifeless eyes when you called his name. His green orbs light up instantly at the sight of you and he cracks a pained smile. You wanted to jump on him, to hug the shit out of him, but you could see that he was hurt. “Max…” you stop breathless in front of him, unsure where to touch him. “What happened?”

For once, Max looked scared and beaten down. There was no spice to that smile with which he tried to reassure you with. “We’ve been cornered…” he sighs heavily. He makes a motion to his side, at the small group that passed you two. “It was an ambush and we…we…fought and lost Chad with…” You hoped it wasn’t Anisa. You couldn’t bear seeing Ian sad. “…With Salamander Man.”

You gasped. Poor dude. He was the best fighter out there and he always cheered you up with his flute singing. “And you? Are you ok?” You sniff, pained to see him like this. But relieved that he was alive.

“They scratched me, but I’ll survive. I hope…”

“You will, you fucking idiot…” you cry out and don’t wait anymore. You wrap your arms around him and nuzzle his chest, uncaring that it was dirty and he smelled. He hugs your waist with one hand, kissing the top of your head, sorrowfully. “I thought you were dead.”

His grip on you tightens and you could feel him trembling. “I thought so too…I thought that I won’t ever get back to you to apologize…For once, I…” he sniffs and you feel something wet in your hair. Max’s crying. For the first time, he crumbles and lets all his feelings free—for once, he’s not the courageous leader he pretends to be and instead, he’s the kid that is actually frightened of this changing world. You hug him even more, not knowing how to comfort someone who always used to comfort others. “I thought I was going to die. I was afraid.” His voice cracks pathetically, but you don’t judge him. Nowadays, it’s fine to cry. It’s ok to be scared.

And even the strongest fall.

“…You’re fine. I’m here for you.”

Max only grips your shirt, ignoring the pain from his wound and crying silently into you. You let him. You have no idea how long you stay there, in the safety of the courtyard, hugging each other. But when you finally part, it was dark.

“Let’s go inside…”

#max #maxmoefoe #maxmoefoe imagine #max stanley #max stanley imagine

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tellerford13 · 7 years

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MO ASTOR- CHAPTER 24

We don’t own the bikes, brothers, or any “related” Sons of Anarchy, trust us, if we did we wouldn’t have the time to write. No money is being made from our stories. So, please don’t sue. It’d be a fruitless endeavor indeed. That being said, Harley, Journee, and any other newbies are ours, and we don’t share. :Whispers in creepy voice: “My precious.” The universe This reality is a mix of cannon, and our own ideas. We strive to keep the boys cannon, but since we will be shifting around some of the events, that will reflect in our writing and their personalities as well. It’s our goal to provide you with quality fiction, and solid, fleshed out OFC. We appreciate constructive criticism and love LOVE reviews, they are a writers life blood and definitely help encourage us and inspire us. We will be posting on our Tumblr where we’ll have fun pictures from time to time as well. http://tellerford13.tumblr.com We’ll also be taking requests for one shots, preferences or imagines for all things Sons at our other Tumblr, so check it out and send your thoughts!http://tellerford13oneshots.tumblr.com/ And just for fun, we’ve decided to start a Pinterest for the story! So if you want a glimpse at our girls and see into our world, check it out! https://www.pinterest.com/tellerford/

A/N: Are you feeling that stolen hour, cause I know we are. This is a short bit, but there will be more later this week. We wanted to get something out for y’all to read in the meantime.

SIDENOTE: Telford will kill me for this but it’s also her Birthday tomorrow (or today depending where you are) SO send her some love and thanks! (She’s the brain behind the operation I just post!)

Mo Astor Chapter 24

Journee

It’s odd stepping out into the sunshine and heat. Scotland had an overcast, damp vibe that I enjoyed immensely. It was like a permanent fall. Fall, my favorite, but not an often experienced season. Filip threads his fingers in mine as he leads me toward the baggage claim and I mentally switch modes. It’s Chibs now unless we’re alone or in close company. Things are different here. There’s a lack of freedom that comes with being back home, but this is where our roots are planted. I wouldn’t know what to do with a normal life. My time spent in college showed me that. I couldn’t relate to the average eighteen and nineteen-year-olds, hungry for their first taste of freedom and making shitty decisions. In our life, you’re always older than your years.

You have no choice. You see and hear too much, and safety precautions are a real thing. It changes the way you view life. I wanted to do my time, get a slip of paper and get out. There’s something to be said about having a skill to fall back on, and I like the image it gives me. There’s protection in that. The best thing an Old lady can offer is a good reputation. It keeps them separate from the shadiness the town knows Samcro has going on. It’s a careful balance we keep with Charming. We keep the corporations away who’d end their “Charming” way of life, and they turn a blind eye to the MC. It’s a system that works as long as everyone holds up their end of the bargain.

“Do we know who’s picking us up?” I ask.

“No clue, Love.”

Deep down I want it to be Juice. Two weeks is a long time to go without seeing his face or hearing his voice. I worry about my misguided son. He wasn’t brought up in this life, and his naivety could potentially get him in trouble. I’m working on the areas someone could exploit. I’ve seen what happens to men like him before in our culture. Chibs and I will make damn sure it doesn’t on our watch.

Chibs grabs our bags, and I admire his strength and gentlemanly ways. I’ve been in love with him since I was fifteen, but the reality of being his woman is even better than my teenage dreaming. He returns, and I thank God we opted to mail the other bags home.

“Ready, love?”

“I am.”

We move toward the exit, and I smile as I spot a familiar head of hair.

“Jackie boy,” Chibs yells making me giggle. J gives Chibs a fleeting smile and a manly hug.

“Good to have you back home, brother.”

His eyes are dull, and there’s tension he’s holding. I glance around and frown when I don’t see Lee.

“What happened? Where’s Lee?”

“I needed some one-on-one with my sister,” he says sheepishly.

I sigh. “What did you do?”

“What? Me? Nothing. That’s exactly why I’m trying to talk to you. I need some advice on how to proceed.”

I glance at Chibs. “Do you mind driving , Filip? This is going to take awhile.”

“Aye, I’ll drive, get our boy fixed up.”

“Start from the beginning,” I say as I walk between the two of them.

“Well, for starters. Wendy went off yesterday .We were there to check up on her, and I flipped out when I found her hanging over the toilet puking her brains.”

“Did she—

“No, but that was my first thought too. She’s just got really bad morning sickness.”

“Stupid bitch,” I mumble.

“Yeah, well she was right. I left, she found out she was pregnant, and I hooked up with Lee and got happy. I haven’t thought about what this would do to her or later, my relationship with my own kid. I mean shit…I’m creating a shit storm for him or her to be born into. What judge in their right mind is going to award full custody to a man with my record or my affiliations?”

“The one we buy,” I say honestly.

He shakes his head. “There’s so much shit going on at once, Journee.”

My full name is a screaming siren. He never does well when forced out of his depth.

“When isn’t it in our lives? It’s just another hurdle to climb. Wendy was already crazy. You add hormones, and a woman scorned vibe to the mix, and you get extra insane. She’ll calm down after it’s all said and done, cause she knows as well as we do, she has no choice. That bitch ain’t got the balls to try to take you to court. She knows who runs this town. You have to deal with her and keep the peace until she pops baby T out.”

“Baby T?”

“Teller, duh.”

He chuckles.

“You make it sounds so easy.”

“Not easy, just necessary. Problem solved. Can I get my Lee time now?”

“About her…”

“Jackson Nathaniel Teller, I’ve been waiting what feels like my entire life for shit to happen between you two. If you ruin this now, I will fucking kill you with my bare hands.”

“Jesus, Baby J.” He looks at Chibs. “You sleep with one eye open brother?”

“I don’t inspire that emotion in her, Jackie boy.” He winks, and I giggle.

Jax shakes his head as we finish our trip through the underground tunnel to the car. He hits the key FOB, unlocks the car and pops the trunk. I can tell there’s more. He’ll spill it once we’re in the backseat alone. I place my hand on Chibs chest and tilt my head up for a kiss. He palms my ass, pulling my body to his and I moan as our tongues tangle. The wedding changed a few things. He never would’ve done this in public before. I like it. We part, and he places his forehead against mine.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Always, lennan. I know his happiness affects your own.” I place my hand over his heart before I peel my body from his and force myself to join Jax.

“This better be good. I should be sucking face with my old man during this ride.”

“I love her, Journee.”

I laugh. “Is that all? Bro, I could’ve told you that years ago. I tried a dozen times.”

“You don’t understand. This changes everything.”

“This is what it means to really care for someone, Jax. That fear of hurting them or losing them is how you know it’s the real thing. You’re finally ready to put someone ahead of yourself. I’m so glad I’m here to see it. Humility looks good on you.” I muse his hair, and he swats my hand.

“You’re a little shit. You know that?”

“Seriously Jay. You’re freaked out because you finally have something you don’t want to lose. It’s not a bad thing. It’ll keep you from making dumb ass decisions. The real tragedy would be living a life where you never experience that kind of love. We both know you dropping the L word on Lee right now would not be a good thing. You jump in head first. She tests the water repeatedly, waits a little more, and then she dips a toe in. You need to be patient. You want to keep her? Then you need to temper that impulsiveness and wait for the right moment.”

“When will that be?”

“I don’t know, but you will.”

He huffs.

“J, have I ever steered you wrong when it’s this important?”

“No.” he shakes his head.

“And I won’t start now.”

He takes a deep breath and nods. “Alright.”

“You good.”

“As good as I’m going to get.”

I pat his cheek. “Welcome to the land of mortals young blonde god.”

“What?” he wrinkles his nose, and I laugh as we weave through traffic. Someone’s eager to get home. The tone for Simple Man rings out. “Mama told me when I was young...” And I laugh. Of course, she has to call the minute, we land.

He rolls his eyes. “Hey, Ma. Yes, I have them. Because Chibs is driving. Nothing. Can’t a man want to catch up with his sister?” He scowls.” Seriously? They just got back. They probably have jet lag out the ass.” He grimaces. “Yeah, I’ll let them know. No, Lee isn’t pissed at me. Yes, I know. I don’t plan on it.”

It’s always amusing to see Jax read the riot act by his mother. Partially because it means she’s not going in on me. She took the mother role to heart, and never let go. I’ve had my ass chewed out by her more times than I want to remember. “She’s right here.” He thrusts the phone at me, and I know the shoe is now on the other foot.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Hey, baby, good to hear your voice. I worried that he’d chained you to a bed and decided to keep you over there permanently.”

I laugh. “It’s more likely it’d be the other way around.”

She chuckles. “That’s my girl. A woman’s got to know how to control things while letting the man think he’s running the show.”

“You taught me well.”

“That I did. We’re having a family dinner tonight. I expect to see the two of you there.”

I mentally sigh. “Ma, we just touched down.”

“Exactly. So you’ll have enough time to spruce up, bring those vacation photos, and get home.”

I roll my eyes and bang my head against the seat.

Jax chuckles, and I elbow him in the ribs. His laughter becomes a groan, and it’s my turn to smirk.

“Fine, we’ll be there.”

“Good. I can’t wait to have my babies all together again. Especially now that you’re married and soon to be carrying a grandbaby. The first one with a mother I love.” I shake my head. That’s Gemma always light years ahead of everyone else. The ink is barely dry on the marriage license, and she’s talking about kids.

“We just got married.”

“And it’s past time we had some little brown babies running around here.”

I snort. “Only you could get away with saying that.”

“Damn straight. “ I hear her exhale, and I know she’s smoking.

“We’ll be there, but we might be late. I have to hunt up clean clothes.”

“I can’t wait to see you, baby. Love you.”

“Love you too Ma.” I hang up and shake my head.

“You miss Scotland yet?” Jax asks.

I laugh. “Meh, this is home. Besides I’m about to have a niece or nephew, and I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

“It’s coming up fast.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

“Ready. I had a talk with my dad, and I got my head on straight. I can be a good dad.”

“I know you will be,” I say sincerely. “You got a lot of people who’ll kick your ass if you aren’t.”

He chuckles. “Never one to mince words.”

“I hear it’s a family trait of mine.”

“Yeah. I hear your big brother is pretty cool.” He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me against him.

“God, you are so conceited.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Tell me what else I’ve missed while I’ve been away.”

I lean into his warmth as he tells me in a boyish animated way that fills me with joy. He’s changing in the best possible way.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #Jax Teller #chibs telford #Mo Astor

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