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#Traded for piece trope
curious-trickster · 4 months
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Please help a Reader find new content!
Hey there. I recently finished reading 'for the want of a jewel', an original work written by @formlessvoidbeast and I absolutely loved it!
Just like I loved the 'Accidental Warlord' series, a AU based on the Witcher, by @inexplicifics.
Those fics are both an absolute delight to read and they have a few things in common which kind of caused a want of more in me.
Please help me find fics/original work/books/shows... with these tropes (they do not have all the things I mentioned but it would be nice to have them meet several):
Character gets traded for peace to a most likely hostile party (warlord, king, pirates, bandits, just something they expect to be bad or different)
The trade-in-character expects to be hurt/killed/abused/hated/...
The second party they are given too is not aware of the circumstances of the way the trade-in-character had to leave their home
The second party which the trade-in-character expects to be hostile turns out to be not so bad
The trade-in-character finds true home with the party they were given to
The trade-in-character finds true friends/family not made by blood/love/their way of life/... with the people they were given too
Shenanigans (optional as the rest of them, but they would be greatly appreciated)
If you can think of something which has some or even better all of these tropes, pls comment/send a message! I would be very grateful and you'd help my adhd brain by feeding it with its new hyperfixation!
Feel free to drop the number of the trope(s) your recommendation has, or don't it's up to you!
A big thanks to @formlessvoidbeast and @inexplicifics for writing these amazing stories and allowing me to mention you in this post!
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On making a living as an artist
In a world where art and other creative pursuits should be an inspiring, honest and a direct reflection of our society, it is truly disheartening to realize that most mainstream artists come from some place of privilege. Whether it be racial, financial, social, or geographic, artists succeed not just from their skill alone, but from having the privilege to make enough sacrifices to pursue art as a full-time job. Even when you do find the right representation, it may feel as though you must sacrifice your independence and your voice as a trade for financial security. This can make you feel like you're alone, or just another piece in a system designed to exploit you for capitalistic gain. Now, now, sweet artist. I know you may feel quite depressed after reading all this. It's hard not to. Part of these frustrations are why I'm here writing this in the first place : because I believe that these systems must change and our approaches to financial stability as artists must be more transparent. I believe positive change comes from the transparency to know what it is that needs to change. For too long, our culture has resisted a more public conversation about personal finances. In many ways, this has enabled us to become a society that's content to embrace the outdated trope of the starving artist. Let's change that.
« How do I make a living as an artist ? », answered by visual artist Yumna Al-Arashi, in the Zine On making a living as an artist by The Creative Independent. You can read it for free on their website !
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sc0tters · 9 months
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Helping Hand | Mat Barzal
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summary: Mat’s son meets his next door neighbour and quickly befriends her, what happens when Mat falls for her much like she does for him?
trope: single dad
request: yes/no
warnings: none.
word count: 1.64k
authors note: I asked who got the child and you requested Mat so here he is as a dad! We are going to act like Tito was never traded because this piece isn’t dated but I miss him as an Islander. If you want to check out the rest of the celly you can do so here!
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It had been the longest day of your life.
All you wanted to do was run yourself a bubble bath as you went to sleep for an early night. That was why when you stood in the elevator your couldn’t help but smile as some kid stared up at you.
Your mother always said that when a child stared at you for just being you it was a compliment because clearly you were pretty “I like your croc,” you pointed to the child’s stuffed animal that he held on to for dear life.
His nanny couldn’t help but smile as you crouched down to talk to him “what’s his name?” You added as you saw that your floor was still another thirty away.
Drew held the crocodile out so that he could place it on your hands “that’s Danny and I’m Drew,” he introduced himself as he sent you a gummy grin that was due to his two front teeth missing.
You pretended to study the teddy as you nodded along with what he was saying “I’m y/n,” your introduction was more so to the lady that was with him “Agatha.” She nodded as she let the two of you get back to your conversation.
By the time the elevator doors opened you knew all of Drew’s favourite facts about himself, his favourite colour was blue, he likes horses. Chicken nuggets and fries are his favourite food but his dad doesn’t let him eat it that often. The part that probably made your heart warm was that the young boy sang his fathers praises as he made it clear that his dad was a cool dude “you promise you’ll come meet my dad soon?” Drew asked as you walked them to their door realising that he was actually your neighbour.
You nodded as you held your pinky out “I promise,” his small finger locked itself around yours and you had to resist the urge to aww at the sight “have a good day you two.” You added as you softly ruffled the boys hair eliciting a laugh from his lips.
The duo watched you make your way down the hall “bye y/n!” Drew called out as he waved before he walked into his apartment.
The young boy played on your mind for the entirety of the next day so when you were back in the hallway walking to your apartment and you came across Danny who seemed to have been dropped on the floor you knew what you had to do.
It wasn’t often that you got yourself involved in other people’s business but after listening to Drew highlight the importance of this stuffed animal you knew he’d appreciate it “you are not the postman.” Mat blurted out as he opened the door to be met with your empty hands.
You sucked at your bottom lip as you furrowed your eyebrows “you’re not Agatha,” your comment made him laugh “she’s got the day off.” He explained as his eyes went down to your hands “thank god you found that stupid animal.” Mat added as he realised that Drew no longer had to rip up his bedroom trying to find that.
Part of you wanted to remind him of the crocodiles name but the other part of you knew it was best to just keep your mouth shut “y/n!” Drew let out a cheer as he saw you stood at the door.
Mat was surprised when he realised that you were actually a real person but that you were also an adult “I believe this is yours,” you smiled as you bent down to hand him Danny.
The young boy wrapped his arms around your neck as he almost knocked you off of your feet “thank you!” Drew repeated those words drawing a laugh from both you and his father “don’t mention bud,” you smiled as you patted his back.
His dads eyes never left yours as he crossed his arms and leaned against the frame of the door “do you want to ask your friend if she wants to come in?” Mat proposed as he rubbed his hand along his chin.
Drew’s eyes lit up at the thought “do you? Do you really?” He asked as he squealed with excitement.
You let out a laugh as you stood back up straight “I don’t even know your name,” you pointed out as you looked at Mat.
The boy groaned “tell her who you are daddy!” Drew pulled at Mats pants as the older Barzal remained quiet.
Mat shook his head as he snapped himself out of it “Mat, Mat Barzal.” The hockey player introduced himself to you as he held his hand out for you to shake.
His tone made you think that you should have known who he was but still you remained oblivious “y/n l/n.” You never that by listening to Drew it would start the most interesting month of your life.
Now you still remained unaware of Mats true profession but that was because you never seemed to ask and besides thinking he was some rich businessman each time he left the apartment in his suit was much more entertaining.
So instead after a busy week where you hadn’t seen a lot of Drew or Mat you knew the perfect way to apologise to the boy for not seeing him all week after Agatha sent you a text saying the boys missed you.
It wasn’t clear to you why Mat would have been involved in that statement but you didn’t look into it “you sure that I can’t meet her?” Tito groaned as he kicked his legs.
Drew had been playing away with his toys on the carpet “I don’t want you guys to scare her.” Mat explained as he shrugged “she wants to meet them.” Drew announced as he didn’t look up from his train set.
That was music to Tito’s ears “see she wants to meet us!” He cheered at the boys phrase.
Mat rolled his eyes “I’ll see when she has time.” The Canadian proposed as there was a knock at the door “so I’ve got four different cupcakes so take your pick but just not-” you walked into his apartment just like how you always did.
Tito locked eyes with you as he smiled “you’re friends with the Tito Beauvillier and you never told me!” You gasped as you sent Mat a glare only causing his teammate to laugh.
It wasn’t often that Mat was jealous but this was one of those few moments “how do you know who he is but not me!” Mat furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.
Drew ran over to you “hi y/n!” He giggled as he wrapped his arms around your legs.
You smiled as you looked down at the boy “the guy I sit next to at work has his poster above his computer.” You explained as you crouched down to be eye level with Drew “which one do you want?” You added as you opened the box for the boy to see the different cupcakes in your box.
Over the next two months you learnt all about how Mat was a hockey player and you even went as far as to meet his teammates. Twitter began to think that you were more than just Mats friend as a video came out of you playing rock paper scissors with Drew in the family and friends box.
After an afternoon game Mat convinced you to go for a round a minigolf. You were for the most part unsure of it, you had grown fond of both Drew and Mat but you didn’t want to put your feelings above the young boys.
What you didn’t know was that Mat felt the same way about you. The fights he had gotten into recently on the ice were because of chirps about you, your style, your body, anything about you that they could say to get under his skin about your they said it. After every game though you always landed up back at his place to play nurse “Mat!” You laughed as the boy wrapped his arms around you to stop you from swinging the club “no cheating!” You added as the scruff from his beard rubbed against your neck.
He smiled as he put you back down “I’m just helping my cause,” he explained as you spun around to face him.
The smirk was present on your face “your cause?” You cocked your head as you licked your lips.
Mats hand went to your hair as he smile “got a pretty strong plan.” He confessed as he dropped his club to the ground “want to tell me about them?” You wriggled you eyebrows as your heart rate increased.
Alarm bells should have rung in Mats head as he studied your face “dinner, maybe even a second date?” He proposed grateful that he had booked the course out so they didn’t have anyone watching them “kiss me.” You blurted out as you couldn’t take it anymore.
All of the temptation and the waiting had built up in your bones “you sure?” Whilst it was all Mat wanted to hear he still didn’t want to cross a line you didn’t want him to.
You nodded “so sure it’s painful,” you gasped as the boys hands went to your cheeks before he kissed you.
It sucked the air out of your lungs as you kissed him back when your club hit the ground with a clang as your hands went on top of his.
A muffled giggle came from your lips at his neediness “wait, what do we tell Drew?” You gasped as you remembered that he was sat at home with Agatha.
“I don’t think he’ll mind if his favourite girl is around more.”
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f6bron · 4 months
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delicate lilac.
pairing : badboy!iso x soft!gn!reader
notes : bad boy x sunshine trope, mutual-pining but both of them are unaware of it, potential friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff >.<
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The campus buzzed with energy as students hurriedly moved from one class to another. Among the sea of people, Li Zhao Yu, also known as Iso, stood out—an enigmatic figure with a formidable reputation that sent shivers through many.
Yet, beneath the intimidating facade, a softer side existed, one that only revealed itself in the presence of one person.
And that's you, Y/N L/N.
As the two of you and your friends strolled through the campus, Iso couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy bubbling within him as he watched you interact with your friends. Laughter filled the air, and Iso's eyes followed the movement of your lips as you spoke animatedly.
Your plump cherry lips, soft skin, and the way the sun highlighted your features. He longed for the day he could receive a similar treatment from you.
"Must be nice," he thought, unconsciously fiddling with the rings on his fingers.
"Iso?" you called, snapping him back to reality.
Stammering, caught off guard by your sudden attention, he replied, "Y-yeah?"
You let out a tiny giggle, a sound that made warmth creep up onto Iso's face. "What were you daydreamin' about?"
"Oh, nothing. I… I was just thinking about–" Iso fumbled over his words, nervousness taking over. Are you being for real, Iso?! This is not you!
Before he could realize it, you slipped a piece of candy into his rough and calloused hands—a stark contrast between your soft and delicate hands and his rugged ones.
"Huh?" he questioned, giving you a puzzled look.
"You said you wanted a strawberry-flavoured candy," you reminded him, a soft smile playing on your lips.
Iso could feel warmth engulfing his heart, not expecting you to remember the tiny details he mentioned during the casual conversation you guys had on your way to class.
"Don't tell anyone, but… I kinda stole it from Jett."
"Really… for me?" Iso asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Yeah! For you!" you replied, causing Iso to chuckle. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.
"Thanks…"
"All right, lovebirds! Enough of that," Phoenix interjected from behind, placing his hands on both Iso's and your shoulders. "We gotta get movin'."
"We're not—"
"Whatever," Phoenix shrugged, cutting Iso off.
"See you at the cafeteria later." he said, winking at you before leaving. Iso sent a harsh glare to Phoenix, the audacity for him to wink at you.
He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Take care, Y/N. Text me after you're done with your classes, okay?"
Iso sighed internally, wishing he could be there for you 24/7.
You nodded shyly before joining the rest of your friends to head to class. "Mhm… you too."
Even though Iso is a notorious class-skipper, up to everyone's surprise, he has been showing up to lectures lately. It's all because he couldn't resist the charm of Y/N's pout.
The thought of being the cause of that disappointed expression wrecks his heart a bit. He would trade his soul if it means seeing that cute smile of yours, and to get complimented by you.
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Iso caught up and walked alongside Phoenix, still holding the strawberry-flavored candy you gave him earlier. Phoenix shot him a knowing look. "If you're gonna play pretend, just give up."
"Huh?"
"Are you being for real, lad?" Phoenix nudged Iso's shoulder. "You never look so ‘down bad’ over a person." Iso sighed, finally getting the point.
"Is it too obvious?" Iso replied, popping the candy into his mouth effortlessly.
"Yeah, too obvious. ‘Saw how a love shape starts forming in your eyes as soon as Y/N appears in your sight." Phoenix teased, smirking.
Iso chuckled, the image of adorable you started playing in his mind. Not like you’ll ever leave it anyway.
"Come on, man. You can't blame me. Y/N is too cute to resist."
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(A/N): THIS LOOKS RUSHED IM SORRY anyways im thinking of turning badboy!iso into a series but we'll see...
masterlist.
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isitandwonder · 2 years
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I think with the current situation it's important to understand why Iranians are so proud of their country and culture, and take so much strength from their Iranian identity, but loath the Islamic Republic.
The territory we call Iran today is one of the cradles of civilization. Especially the Kurdish region (sadly, it has been difficult to explore that part for many years, because with the rise in modern archeology also came the greed for resources found in that region that resulted in endless wars).
In the region encompassing Iran today people developed agriculture, built cities of unprecedented size, invented the earliest scripts - thousands of years BC.
The earliest written laws come from that part of the world, as does the first piece of literature we know the author of (a priestess btw). Zoroastrianism is the first monotheistic religion we know of - and still has followers today in Iran - inspiring both Judaism as well as the much later Christian faith.
The Gilgamesh epic was written there probably 2000 years before the Illiad, already incorporating many tropes we later find in world literature from the Bible to Arthurian tales.
When European tribes dwelled in muddy holes, Rome was but a village and Greek cities constantly quarreled with each other, the Persian empire ruled most of the then known world. This was only possible because of modern means of communication and liberal ideas of government and religious freedom (NEVER mention the movie 300 to an Iranian!) Their excellent highway system made trade between the Far East and Europe possible.
The sassanids later stood up to the Roman expansion.
The arrival of Islam lead to another cultural flourish, be it the literature of Hafiz and Rumi, or medicine, maths, art, architecture...
All this is very present for Iranian people. They are proud of their history and culture, that is part but not whole Islamic. Their tradition of celebrating Nowruz, for example, is thought to stem at least from ancient Persian times.
That's why Iranians feel so offended when people from countries with but a fraction of their history think of them as illiterate camelherders or fanatic islamic terrorists and assume cultural superiority over Iran. It also explains a certain resilience. This country has seen so much, 40 years of mullah rule are but a blink in the scope of Iranian history.
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forlix · 8 months
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⤷ last updated apr. 29, 2024. ⤷ read the #about my work section here before proceeding. ⤷ minors and/or ageless blogs that interact w/nsfw content will be blocked.
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𝐊𝐄𝐘 ♡ = fluff ☁ = angst ϟ = suggestive/smut gn! = gender neutral ✧ = personal favorite [!] = most recent
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𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 · chan · minho · hyunjin · felix
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 · 방찬
dimple ♡ ϟ gn! [!] 2.8k words · fratboy!chan ⤷ incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang.
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𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 · 황현진
places, places! ♡ ϟ gn! 1.3k words · idol!hyunjin x stylist!reader ⤷ you’re just trying to do your job; your client has other ideas.
fallen star ☁ ✧ gn! 2.5k words · ex-bf!hyunjin ⤷ an impromptu drive to the airport at five in the morning rekindles conversations and feelings alike.
crying lightning ☁ ϟ ✧ 11.1k words · idol!hyunjin x stylist!reader ⤷ hyunjin finds you’re not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.
ace ♡ ✧ gn! 15.2k words · volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader ⤷ volleyball superstar and your personal hell proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade.
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𝐇𝐀𝐍 · 한지성
empty my mind ♡ ☁ ϟ 6.4k words · fwb!jisung ⤷ stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.
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𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 · 이용복
lifetimes ♡ ��� gn! 1k words · established relationship, hurt/comfort ⤷ "if you smell the same as someone, you'll have some peace of mind."
subtext ♡ gn! 1.1k words · roommate!felix x streamer!reader ⤷ in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
resurface ♡ ☁ gn! 1.7k words · established relationship ⤷ felix misses you a little extra tonight; good thing you're way ahead of him.
everything has changed (besides myself) ♡ ☁ ✧ gn! 5.4k words · babysitter!felix, exes to lovers ⤷ the human heart is more stubborn than you know.
not mine ♡ ☁ ✧ gn! 7.7k words · idol!felix, best friends to lovers ⤷ five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 · 스트레이 키즈
when they know they're in love ♡ ☁ gn! 1.4k words · headcanons
skz + the habits you share ♡ ✧ gn! 3.7k words · headcanons
winter falls · collaboration with @astraystayyh ⤷ eight winter-themed fics for each member of stray kids.
skz + reverse writing tropes · 2k followers event ⤷ series of requested minifics from this list.
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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tmpestuous · 9 months
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The Phoenix Project
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summary: Bucky finds out more about your past with Hydra.
pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader
warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, canon-level violence, mentions of Hydra + Hydra torture (mainly reader and other unnamed characters; not Bucky), 
word count: 6.2k (I got carried away…)
a/n: welcome to my comeback era… this concept came to me in a dream and I know I said I’d stop with the hurt reader fics but I’m sort of fixated on the trope… (someone send help) this is part of the Phoenix & Winter soldier universe!!
Phoenix & the Winter Soldier Masterlist
Waking up in Bucky’s arms was your favorite part of the day (only before going to sleep in his arms as well). His musky scent brought you comfort, the cool and warm contrast in his arms and hands bringing you solace. His embrace felt like home, a place you wouldn’t trade for anything else.
When Bucky was away on missions without you (or vice versa), it was always difficult readjusting to sleeping alone. A part of you felt like it was missing, and this time would be no different. Bucky was going on a mission with Steve and Natasha to gain important SHIELD intel and information on Hydra tactics, new and old, to try and track down their current bases and hideouts. 
Steve had warned Bucky that there might be information on the Winter Soldier and new attempts to revive the program, though that was no surprise to anyone on the team. Bucky was more concerned about whether or not there’d be information on you. 
Things were a lot better during your time with the Avengers recently. You got off to a good start, hit some bumps along the road that landed you on probation (thanks, Steve), but you still came out on the other side. You finally felt at home. You felt like you had a family. There was nothing that could get in the way of your place here. 
Although you still had your fears and triggers to get over, as anyone would after being forcefully succumbed to Hydra’s authority, there had never been a moment where you felt better than you do now. And you knew that it was only up from here.
You didn’t remember much from your time with Hydra, a result of both their tactics and your subconscious suppression. Nonetheless, you struggled with deciphering whether your lack of memory was a good or bad thing.
No one on the team knew enough about your past with Hydra. They definitely did a number on your memories, far worse than what they’d done with Bucky’s. Bucky slowly but surely remembered things, both about himself and his time with Hydra. He was grateful enough to keep his memories with Steve and his life before his capture. You, on the other hand, didn’t really remember anything. You held bits and pieces of your childhood, but nothing of substance. Not to mention you weren’t nearly as crucified as Bucky; once you arrived on the team, the public was a lot more educated on Hydra and its ploys. 
On past missions recovering more intel, there’d been little to nothing about you. You usually felt a tinge of relief, not sure if you were ready to uncover everything just yet. Nonetheless, the anticipation of an eventual find didn’t curb your anxiety, and the curiosity was eating you alive. 
The Phoenix Project, they called it. It wasn’t too far off from the Winter Soldier program but centralized its focus on a small group of young women. Some were just girls. You were one of the older ones, though not the oldest, and often found yourself sacrificing your own well-being to protect the younger ones who were still only teenagers. It was also somewhat reminiscent of Natasha’s time in the Red Room, creating the Black Widows. 
Your experience with Hydra often gave you survivor’s guilt, especially when you first started interacting with Bucky. His unsolicited time as the Winter Soldier wasn’t unbeknownst to anyone, not even you. In fact, one of the few things you remembered was how everyone in Hydra spoke about him. 
It took you a moment to warm up to him, and him to you. In the beginning, you couldn’t help but hate yourself for feeling so low about what Hydra did to you when Bucky Barnes was right there and had gone through so much more. Bucky never knew about how you felt, a result of your own decision not to tell him, and he never would. To this day, you tried not to complain about it. The Hydra operatives in control of the Phoenix Project were ruthless, though you couldn’t remember enough to know if they were any more or less cynical than the ones who watched over Bucky. Given the fact that you weren’t forced under them for over 70 years, however, you didn’t dare to compare experiences. You figured Hydra wasn’t anywhere near close to carrying out their plan for you, especially since the Avengers cut their plans short. 
You and Bucky have yet to talk about either of your times with Hydra. The two of you had crossed each others’ paths romantically after moving past it, and you had told yourself that the last thing you wanted to do was ruin your relationship with an unnecessary trauma bond.
Hydra didn’t define you or Bucky. You were both better than them; you had just fallen into their cage, and that wasn’t either of your faults. Your time with them didn’t make or break you as a person.
Bucky knew that, and even better, he believed it. He’d never think of you any differently because of it. But he needed to know if he’d find out information on you during this mission. For his sake and yours.
The Avengers never really sought out information on the Phoenix Project, but intel was looming that Hydra was plotting on restarting it. Intel also alluded to Hydra’s inevitable search for you, knowing about your involvement with the Avengers and the ultimate ability to make you even stronger a weapon for them. 
Steve had pulled Bucky aside to talk to him about everything, especially since they both knew you wouldn’t be going on this mission. He alerted him of the possibility of the information they’d yet to find, stronger than that of finding information on the Winter Soldier program. He had also told Bucky not to tell you, stressing that it was important not to induce any unnecessary anxiety for a mission you wouldn’t be going on. He wanted to tell you, so badly, but he knew Steve was right.
“What are you thinking about, Sergeant?” You asked, your voice soft yet still enough to snap Bucky out of his thoughts given how close you were to each other.
“The idea of having to sleep without you for the next two days,” Bucky said, his voice raspy from waking up. It wasn’t a lie, but merely half the truth.
“At least it’s only two days this time,” you said, as optimistic as always. Bucky adored that you always tried your best to find the silver lining in things, something he didn’t do often.
“I wish you were coming on this mission,” he voiced in a whisper, rubbing the knuckles on his right hand against your cheek back and forth. “But maybe it’s for the better.”
“You still don’t want me on Hydra missions, huh?” 
“Just looking out for you, honey,” he kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger before kissing it again. “Never know what you might run into that’ll bring up rough memories.”
“What about you?” You asked sincerely, once again avoiding thinking about your time with Hydra and the fact that Bucky was protecting you from something he also should be shielded from. Maybe even more than you did, in your opinion.
“I’ll be okay,” he reassured. “I told you, I’m free from them. They’re not getting me anytime soon.”
Nodding, you shifted your gaze away from Bucky’s, trying to mentally run from the thoughts clouding your mind.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “Did I say something wrong?”
Looking back up at him immediately, you shook your head. “No, no, you didn’t. I promise. I’m just gonna miss you, is all.”
“I’m gonna miss you too, baby,” he smiled down at you before giving you a prolonged kiss, lasting a few moments before he pulled away and looked back into your eyes as you both caught your breaths. “We still have some time before I have to go, honey.”
“I had a feeling that was coming,” you teased, pushing him back so he was laying down on his back as you crossed one of your legs over to straddle him, spending the time he had left tangled inbetween the sheets.
Two Days Later
Bucky being away on a mission never entirely fazed you, and vice versa. You both trusted each other enough to know you’d come home at the end of it all, but for some reason, this felt different. 
Bucky was on edge. So far, everything had gone smoothly, which was never good news to him. He was keeping watch on the door while Natasha retrieved any and all files they needed. 
It was too quiet for Bucky’s liking, the silence two seconds from giving him a migraine. Hydra had been at the opposite end of the Avengers plenty of times, but they weren’t stupid. They were calculated, they knew what they were doing, and they often knew when to let the Avengers play right into their hand. 
“Still not done, Romanoff?” Bucky asked impatiently, his anxiety creeping up by the minute.
“Working as fast as I can, Barnes,” she retorted. 
Bucky heard her typing stop, as did Steve, who turned his attention toward her. 
Natasha sighed. “Guess we found what we were missing.” Steve took a glance at Bucky before they both approached the screen behind the redhead. Tons and tons of files upon files regarding this project, their plans, and the subjects. Bucky’s gaze couldn’t divert from the one Natasha clicked with your name on it. “You sure you wanna see this?”
“Open it,” Bucky said without hesitation, his tone completely void of emotion.
“Buck—”
“I said open it.” 
Natasha and Steve shared a look before she clicked on the file. It was over 500 pages long, probably the most in-depth file Bucky had ever seen from Hydra aside from maybe his own. Pictures of you battered and bruised, information on your home life, how they captured you, the different tests they’d run, the serum they injected into you; everything was in here. 
Bucky felt his chest constrict at the pictures. He was somewhat grateful you couldn’t remember any of it, though it pained him that he was now aware of it and you weren’t. 
Natasha scrolled to the end, finding a list of names that had nothing to do with you, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. “What’s this?”
“They look like death certificates,” Steve noted. “What’s this got to do with Y/n?”
“Says she killed them,” Natasha read.
“That’s impossible,” Bucky interjected. “She didn’t kill anyone. They didn’t get that far, right?”
“I don’t know, Barnes,” Natasha shook her head while she downloaded all of the files. “But these don’t look like civilians or Hydra enemies.”
“They look like Hydra operatives,” Steve added. “I mean, look at the names and the pictures on file. They have separate files of their own.”
Natasha proceeded to find the name of one of the men you had supposedly killed, and Steve’s suspicions were right. A full detailing of a man’s time with Hydra, also a subject of their tests through another program. His death was pronounced at the bottom of the file.
Date of death: X/XX/XXXX. Terminated by Y/n Y/l/n.
Bucky couldn’t believe his eyes. He knew you weren’t capable of doing such a thing unless you needed to. He had seen it on that mission you got separated from Steve. Twenty men killed on your own while you were injured. 
“We have to go.” Bucky looked up at Steve heading towards the door as Natasha shot the computers and file drives, following suit behind both of them towards the jet. He felt sick the entire ride back to the Compound.
Something was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it. 
Upon landing in the hangar, Bucky felt like he was going to implode. Nat and Steve had tried to talk to him, but he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head. 
The truth was that he felt guilty. He let his curiosity get the best of him and invaded the secrecy of something not even you remembered. He held your history in his memory, while you were completely clueless. Bucky didn’t even know what he was going to tell you the moment he saw you.
The girl he left behind with a smile on her face and a ‘good luck’ on her lips after he snuck a taste of them. She wasn’t even aware of the details of the mission. She had no idea he could have discovered everything.
And that he did.
Opening the door to his room to shower before a debrief—Steve telling him to cool off a bit—Bucky expected to see you waiting for him, but you were nowhere to be found. He hadn’t passed by the kitchen or the living room, but you knew he was coming back today.
He was already on edge and he needed to get everything off his chest. Stepping back out to the common area, it was vacant. Spotting Fury talking to Steve and Natasha in the debriefing room didn’t settle his anxiety either. 
“Sergeant Barnes,” Fury greeted in his usual monotonous yet sarcastic voice. “Thought you’d be joining us afterward.”
“Where’s Y/n?”
Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “She’s not in your room?”
Bucky shook his head, his gaze not breaking from Fury’s. Steve and Natasha looked at the Director with the same confusion sprawled on their faces.
“She’s on a recon mission in Siberia. Just left today.”
“Recon mission to observe who?” Bucky bit back without hesitation. 
The Avengers were focused on Hydra for weeks. There haven’t been any other threats and Bucky was aware of that. He knew you weren’t ready for Hydra, not because you couldn’t handle them, but because they were looking for you.
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
“Fucking hell, Fury,” Natasha muttered, rubbing a hand across her face.
“She’s not even cleared—”
“She was cleared this morning. She wanted the mission, Barnes. I was gonna send Wilson before she stopped me.”
Bucky felt his heart drop to his stomach. He should’ve known something like this would happen, and suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Storming out of the room, he heard an explosion outside. 
Rushing out to the hangar, with Steve, Natasha, and Fury not far behind, the quinjet was up in flames, with workers everywhere wounded or trying to now fix the problem. 
“The drive, Nat,” Bucky muttered, not ripping his eyes off of the now-destroyed jet. 
“What?” Natasha asked.
“The drive.”
Natasha pulled the drive out. Burnt. To a complete crisp and she didn’t even feel it.
“What the hell is going on?!” Sam rushed out with Wanda, Vision, and Tony. 
Fury crossed his arms, exhaling deeply. “We’ve gotta find Agent Y/l/n. Now.”
You knew it was probably a bad idea to get involved in a Hydra recon mission so quickly after your probation, but you told yourself surveillance couldn’t be that bad, right?
Yeah, right.
Fury only asked you to identify the base and make note of its activity, location, and how often it was frequented throughout the next five days. Your location was pretty secure. That was until you saw the girls. 
It wouldn’t be your first time going against Fury’s orders, but it would definitely be the first time you did it alone. You had all the tools necessary, and you were never afraid of Hydra. You killed 20 of them on your own with a grueling stab wound that took 8 weeks to completely heal. You would be fine.
That’s what you thought 10 hours ago. 
Now you were strapped to this god-forsaken chair listening to this insolent asshole go on some rant about how he was the first one to find you. You still didn’t understand Russian fluently, but Bucky and Natasha had taught you enough to hold your own. 
Rolling your eyes at the man in front of you, you shortly felt a sharp strike to your cheek. 
“Все еще такой непокорный.” Insubordinate. 
You scoffed. “Alright, you’ve got me. What now?”
“What now?” he repeated your question with a chuckle. “You come back to where you belong, Феникс.” Phoenix. You hadn’t been called that in so long, but you’d recognize the word anywhere. Even before you knew a lick of Russian. 
The man pulled a syringe from a freezer, and your brain suddenly wired to recognize the serum, making you pull at the restraints on your wrist.
“Silly, silly, Phoenix,” he drawled in his thick, Russian accent. “Let’s see what the Avengers do when they find the real you.”
After some calls to King T’Challa, a jet was secured. Fury asked for Shuri to come as well as the jet, in case Dr. Cho needed some help with whatever state you’d be in when they found you.
Bucky was tired of saving you. Well, he wasn’t tired of the saving. He’d save you every single time until his last breath. But he knew how exhausting it must’ve been to constantly be in the position to be saved. 
He didn’t say a word to anyone while on the jet. Bucky’s thoughts were clear, and he just needed to know you were safe.
Stepping into the Hydra base, everything was (once again) running too smoothly for Bucky’s liking. There was a lot more resistance than the mission they’d just returned from, including finding some hostages to extract. 
“I spotted—” Natasha said before she grunted. “She’s not herself, I’m gonna need some backup here.”
“On my way to you now,” Bucky said as he ran up the stairs, meeting up with Sam and Steve halfway. Opening the staircase door, the three of them saw you with Natasha pinned down. You immediately looked towards them given the noise, your eyes blurred off. 
You weren’t you.
Steve and Sam ripped you off Natasha, though Bucky was frozen.
“Buck!” Sam said as he dodged another one of your swings, a lot more fast-paced than your usual combat. “A little help here!”
You dodged Steve’s shield, swinging it back at him at full force before knocking both Sam and Natasha down. Bucky picked up your combat moves, which hadn’t changed much. They were just faster. He managed to pin you to the wall, your back against his front as you wrestled with his grip before he pinned you to the ground below him. 
You were staring completely through him, not a single hint of recognition in your eyes of who he was. Natasha handed Bucky the restraints while Steve injected you with the sedative. Soon your struggles had calmed down and your eyelids got heavy. You stared up at Bucky with a haze before your eyes closed. 
Everyone was silent. The entire trip back. Placing your sleeping body on the gurney, Bucky wasn’t satisfied. There was no certainty that Hydra didn’t completely wipe you again, or even tested something new. But regardless of the circumstances, Bucky couldn’t breathe properly. He couldn’t think properly. He wanted to smash every wall in the building and then fight everyone that was in it.
You shouldn’t have been there. You wouldn’t have been there. And somehow, Bucky Barnes blamed himself for letting you out of his sight again.
You had woken up fairly quickly once the sedation wore off, eyes wandering in confusion to your location. A man walked in, noticing your consciousness, and his eyes widened immediately.
He looked like Captain America, but you couldn’t possibly be with the Avengers… right?
“Shit,” he muttered to himself though you clearly heard him. “You’re awake– um, are you okay? Do you need anything? I should get Cho and Shuri, I’ll– I’ll go do that.”
He exited the room just as fast as he entered. You looked around again, knowing you were in some sort of hospital, but if Captain America was here, you assumed it wasn’t just any hospital.
The man returned with two women, one in all white and one in all black.
“Hi, Y/n,” one of them greeted. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, is that okay?”
You nodded, still a bit disoriented. 
“Good, do you know where you are?”
You looked back at the man who stared at you nervously. You shook your head.
“Do you know who I am?”
You shook your head again.
“Okay, well I’m Dr. Cho,” she introduced, her face indicating she realized something. Probably that you had no idea what was going on and were probably freaking out. “This is Shuri,” she pointed to the other girl next to her. “Do you know who this is?”
She pointed at the man again. You hesitated, but you nodded.
“Could you tell me his name?”
“He’s—” you stopped yourself before sighing and looking back at Dr. Cho. “He’s Captain America.” 
She nodded before someone else entered the room. Someone you definitely recognized.
“I heard she was awake, I’m sorry,” he said before he locked eyes with you. 
The Winter Soldier. The man Hydra had been so adamant about finding.  They wanted you to bring him back to them, and that they’d kill you both if you betrayed them. Your eyes watered before you started sobbing and looked back at Dr. Cho.
“Are— are they gonna kill me? They said they were gonna kill me if I didn’t find him, I—”
They all looked at you with pained eyes. 
“You’re safe here, Y/n,” Dr. Cho reassured as Shuri ushered the men outside. “I promise. We’re going to take good care of you. Rest up for a bit, you have a lot to process. I’ll be back.”
— 
Bucky couldn’t stop the tears from falling down his face.
“She’s terrified of me,” he said as Dr. Cho stepped outside.
“This confirms what we tested when we drew her blood,” Shuri tried to instill some hope in him. She’d seen Bucky through traumatic moments while removing the triggers from his head, and somewhat considered him a friend. An ally, at least. “The serum they injected into her bloodstream somehow removed the memories up until before she came here.”
“And the antidote is in progress,” Dr. Cho added. “She’s going to be okay, Sergeant.”
Bucky felt like he was drowning. “All of this could have been avoided.”
“Buck—”
“No, Steve,” Bucky interrupted. “She wasn’t ready. She didn’t even know what they were doing, this could have been avoided—”
“We have to focus on the now, Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri stepped in. “We cannot undo the past 24 hours, but we can give her all of our effort to bring her back.”
Thirteen Days Later
You’d adjusted to being in the hospital room by the time they told you they had to put you under again. The past two weeks had been somewhat okay.
The entire Avengers team came to tell you stories about your time with them. Natasha brought pictures. Sam did, too. Tony told you about all your late-night lab visits while he worked on new tech, and Steve told you about the times you discovered new music together. Everyone else brought you your favorite snacks, games, everything. 
The only one really missing was Bucky. Everyone decided it was best for them not to be the ones to recount your relationship, but they assured you he was your favorite.
It was nice not feeling as alone as you did before; some of the pictures and stories felt familiar, but you couldn’t remember them much. You were kind of used to not remembering things, Hydra never really gave you the chance to. But now it was all you longed for.
“This antidote was made fairly quicker than the last one, but I indeed haven’t slept for three days just for you, Y/n,” Shuri joked, the corner of your lip tugging up.
The last serum had apparently brought some of your memories back, but the side effects were a lot more prominent than Shuri had anticipated. You felt excruciatingly sick and even tried to fight your way out of the med bay before eventually passing out. They hadn’t even gotten the chance to sedate you.
So Shuri went back to the drawing board.
“And you’re sure this one will work? Bring my memories back?”
“If it doesn’t, it’ll be back to the lab again,” she answered, though not definitive. “Not to worry, though, you are still in good hands. Dr. Cho and I have worked very thoroughly on this. I even asked for help from a friend in Boston.”
She wiped the inside of your arm with an alcohol pad, finding your vein to direct the antidote right into your bloodstream.
“You should fall asleep in a few minutes,” she informed you as the darkness eventually pulled you in. 
Four Days Later
Your eyelids felt pretty heavy, so forcing them open was a task you fought hard to complete. Looking over at your surroundings, you could tell you were in the med bay. The last thing you remembered was trying to fight off that Hydra guard, but he eventually won that battle. 
You looked over at the side of your bed, Bucky sleeping in a cot that was way too small for him, making you smile to yourself.
You wondered what had happened since you’d been knocked out, though you were sure it wasn’t anything pretty. Stirring in the bed, Bucky shot his eyes open.
“Y/n?” He said, his voice raspy with a hesitancy you didn’t recognize.
“Hey,” you pushed a smile in his direction. “I feel like we keep ending up in this predicament.”
“Y-you remember me? Remember us?”
Then realization struck you. The serum. It was that serum. The one that always ripped everything away from you in an instant. Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, Bucky sighing in relief as he made his way toward you.
“Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said as he kissed your head, but you couldn’t stop the lump in your throat from pushing the sob out. Bucky enveloped you in his arms, shushing you and rubbing your back as you let everything out.
“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” you sobbed into his chest. “I shouldn’t have gone, you were right, I wasn’t ready for a Hydra mission—“
“Hey, hey, no,” he grabbed your face in his hands. “You’re ready, okay? You didn’t know, you had no idea they were waiting for you. That isn’t your fault.”
“But I didn’t need to go, I could have just waited for you—“
“I’m here, sweetheart,” he cut you off again. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I only care that you’re okay and that you’re you. That you’re here and you know me and I can love you as I always have. That’s what’s important to me right now. Not Hydra.”
You nodded as he pulled you in again. The pit in your stomach was something you couldn’t shake, but being back in Bucky’s arms always made everything feel better.
“I should get Dr. Cho,” he said after a few minutes. You gripped him tighter as he started to pull away, prompting him to kiss the crown of your head. “I’ll be right back, doll. I’m not going anywhere.”
Reluctantly letting him go after a few breaths, he looked back at you before stepping outside, returning momentarily with Dr. Cho and Shuri.
They asked you the same questions they did when your memory was gone, though you didn’t remember that, of course.
“Your vitals are outstanding and you seem to be in good shape,” Dr. Cho assured as she reviewed your chart. “Shuri will stay in the compound for a few days in case you have any adverse reactions to the antidote again. But for now, we’re putting you on bed rest, Agent Y/l/n. It’s good to have you back.”
You nodded in appreciation at the both of them, knowing they were probably exhausted.
Going back to Bucky’s room was a relief for both you and him. You were happy to be back in his arms again, and he was happy that you were back to being yourself.
Bucky felt a little selfish for not going to see you as often while your memory was still gone, but he didn’t want his sadness clouding your recovery. If he had to make you fall in love with him all over again, he would. No matter how much it’d hurt him to know you didn’t remember your time together.
Your body was still pretty exhausted so falling asleep as soon as you showered and hit the bed was no difficult task. Bucky watched you intently, not knowing what could follow the antidote working.
The truth of the matter was that Dr. Cho and Shuri were doing their best to reverse the effects of the serum Hydra gave you to suppress your memories, but they weren’t entirely too sure how far it’d go back.
It could be up until the moment you first became an Avenger. It could be up until you were captured by Hydra. It could be all of your memories at once.
Bucky was nervous. He had dealt with those Hydra nightmares for years; hell, he still got them sometimes even now. He was always grateful you didn’t have to constantly relive those experiences, but now, you might have to.
Any stir or change in your expression as you slept left Bucky waiting. He wasn’t sure what to anticipate, but he wanted to be there when it happened.
Only he wasn’t prepared at all. 
You started to stir a bit, murmuring incoherently but Bucky’s attempts to slowly wake you weren’t working. You got more impatient in your sleep, sweating bullets to the point that your pajamas had gotten soaked. 
Bucky ripped the covers off of you as he cradled you in his arms, stroking your face softly to try and wake you up.
“Y/n, please,” he spoke softly yet sternly. “Wake up, baby, I’m here. I’ve got you, open those eyes for me, please.”
Steve and Natasha heard your screams as they progressed, rushing into your room as Bucky was watching you with intense eyes, anxious that he couldn’t pull you out. He didn’t even notice Natasha rushing to get Shuri, who came in and asked Bucky what was going on.
“She won’t wake up, she’s trapped in whatever nightmare she’s having, I—“
“It’s okay,” Shuri reassured. “Lay her on her back.” Bucky followed Shuri’s directions as she uses her Kimoyo beads to scan your heart. “Her heart is beating very rapidly, we’ve got to wake her up soon or she could go into cardiac arrest from whatever it is that she is dreaming about.”
Bucky was trying not to completely lose his composure, picking you up in his arms as they all rushed to the med bay. By the time they had settled you in a bed, your nightmare had gotten even worse. Tossing and thrashing so much in the bed that even the sedatives weren’t working, Bucky couldn’t even feel Steve’s hand on his shoulder. You were sobbing uncontrollably, pleading for help as they restrained you against the bed, Shuri injecting something else into you that eventually calmed you down. 
Your breaths were still coming in at a fast pace and you still hadn’t woken up. As your heart rate settled into normal territory, Shuri looked over at Bucky and gave him a nod. 
Walking into the room, Bucky saw your face still contorted, a few groans coming from your lips as your breathing evened out. He pushed your hair away from your face, covered in sweat, noticing your eyes start to flutter open.
“Y/n?” 
Tears immediately crowded your vision as you started sobbing again, Bucky’s heart breaking in two. 
“Y/n, sweetheart, look at me,” Bucky pleaded with you, caressing your face softly. “You’re safe, you’re okay, I’m here.”
“I- I killed them,” you choked out. “I killed them, I killed them.” You repeated the sentence about a dozen times, looking Bucky in the eyes. “Thirty-six.”
Bucky looked at you confused, Shuri’s eyes held the same emotion. 
“What’s thirty-six?” Bucky asked though he assumed he knew what you meant.
“People, Bucky. Thirty-six people. I killed thirty-six people.”
Two Days Later
You hadn’t gotten a nightmare since the one that confirmed your worst fear. Bucky couldn’t sleep as you slept, not knowing if you’d ever get another one. 
He’d watch you the whole night, not that he ever minded.
Thirty-six. All the kills were volunteer Hydra agents, so Bucky didn’t mind all that much, though you were forced to kill them for their ‘betrayal’ to Hydra. But with the twenty from your rescue mission, that was fifty-six people you’d killed. When you hated the idea of killing even one.
Part of him was relieved they never got far enough to make you kill anyone that would land you in the same position he was in, needing a pardon that so many people didn’t even think he deserved. 
Watching you wake up, Bucky looked down at you as you opened your eyes to look back at him. 
“Hi,” you whispered, drowsiness hinted at in your tone. “I missed you.”
Bucky chuckled. “I’ve been here the whole time, baby.”
“I know,” you sighed, snuggling closer to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
Furrowing his eyebrows, Bucky shook his head. “What are you apologizing for?” 
Sitting up slightly, you positioned yourself on your stomach, resting your arm on Bucky’s chest which you then rested your head on.
Biting down on your lip, you exhaled once more. “I know I scared you the other night, and before you say it wasn’t my fault, I know that none of this would’ve happened if I had just stayed here until you got back from your mission.”
“Baby…”
“I mean it, Buck,” you emphasized. “I don’t want you to see me go through what you went through. You don’t deserve that. It’s triggering, it’s scary, and you’ve come too far to be swallowed by all of that fear again.”
Bucky couldn’t quite gather the motive behind your words, but he’d hoped you didn’t mean you wanted to break things off. He found that it would eat him alive far worse than anything Hydra could do to him.
“You’re the air I breathe, you know that?” He said in a whisper. “When you’re hurt, I’m hurt. When you’re sick, I feel sick. It doesn’t matter how close or far I am, it doesn’t matter if we’re together or separate. You’re everything to me. Hydra doesn’t scare me anymore, they can’t reach me anymore and I meant that.” 
He cupped your face in his hands. “My priority is you. I need to make sure you’re okay. Fury knew that Hydra was looking for you and even if it was your decision to go into that base alone, I could never blame you for doing what any one of us would have done.”
Leaning into his touch, you kissed the palm of each of his hands. “I love you, Bucky. So much.”
“I love you, too, Y/n. More than you know.”
Three Months Later
First mission back, and you felt better than ever before.
The last three months were far from easy. You had gotten nightmares here and there, Bucky immediately comforting you, especially during the worst ones. He hated seeing you sob, but he knew that the trauma from Hydra never truly left. 
Word had gotten out about the files the organization had kept on you, the public finding that you’d killed for them, which some didn’t take lightly. They weren’t nearly as ruthless as they were with Bucky, your work with the Avengers already overshadowing your actions under Hydra’s authority. Steve got you talking to Dr. Raynor as mandated sessions when the government had meddled its way into your history with Hydra. It took a lot of negotiating and convincing that you weren’t under Hydra’s control anymore; the government was worried they’d have a repeat of the Winter Soldier on the streets, but Steve and Tony managed to assure them that there was nothing to worry about. Seeing the two of them in a united front definitely helped your case. 
After a few sessions with Raynor, you could see why Bucky hated the woman. You swear you had told him she should be fired.
“Yeah, baby, I’d have to agree with you on that one.”
You, Bucky, and Steve were back in Siberia, at the same location from the events three months prior. 
“Okay, bomb’s in and ready to detonate,” Bucky alerted Steve through comms.
“Let’s blow this place to hell,” Steve responded.
As you all evacuate and boarded the jet, Steve hit the detonator once you were at a fair distance so the shock wouldn’t hit the quinjet. You stared off as the building fell into pieces, sighing to yourself mostly in relief. 
“You okay?” Bucky asked, rubbing a comforting hand on your knee. 
You looked over at him and gave him a warm smile. “I will be.”
Leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss on his lips, Bucky kissed your temple afterward. He knew you were being sincere, and he was glad that you were okay.
It feels good to be back! I’ve had this in my drafts for a few months and finally got the motivation to finish it. I hope you enjoyed it; thanks for reading!
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eddiesghxst · 11 months
Text
hellooo! the idea of eddie absolutely hating carnivals has been tossing around in my head for so long so i wrote this :)
this was heavily inspired by Hearts Aglow x Weyes Blood and is definitely not proof read
————
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: eddie munson x henderson step-sibling!reader
summary: you and Eddie like love each other and Eddie hates carnivals.
contains: gn!reader, secret relationship trope, eddie being down bad, carnival shenanigans, mentions of oral, lots of fluff, and eddie in his lover era <3
word count: 1.6k
-masterlist-
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Eddie is pretty. He’s so pretty with pink and blue and yellow hues dancing across his face, carnival lights twinkling in his brown eyes. He’s got sprinkles of glitter in his hair that he will surely be bitching about later on, and his lips are tainted red from a cherry-flavored snow cone.
You want nothing more than to smear your lips across his and taste them for yourself, but you’re stuck admiring from afar, poking your straw at the watered-down strawberry slushie in your cup.
Eddie believes that carnivals are nothing but money-sucking machines. The games are rigged, the rides are without a doubt hazardous, the food is overpriced and shitty, and there are hundreds of sticky, obnoxious kids running around like they have no home training. Eddie hates carnivals with every bone in his body, but he’ll be damned if he misses out on any chance to be around you.
You and Eddie are…well you’re something. You haven’t quite established exactly what your relationship is with Eddie. You hang out a lot, and you go out to watch movies, and you hold hands, and you kiss, and you might’ve sucked him off in the back of his van a few times, but Eddie hasn’t asked you to be anything serious yet. It’s not exactly his fault, he would’ve asked you a long time ago, but you asked him to go slow and ‘let’s just be careful for now. I don’t want Dustin finding out just yet.’
So…you’re not quite dating but you’re not not dating either. You’re feeling it out. You want to be sure about your feelings with Eddie and you want him to be sure about his feelings with you; because once Dustin finds out there is no going back. And you’d hate to be the reason why your (step) brother loses such a dear friend.
Eddie agreed to go slow and he agreed to keep it between just the two of you for now, but jesus christ, he can’t stand not being able to touch you and hold you and openly admire you in the ways he wants to.
He misses you and you’re less than thirty feet away. 
There’s a small stuffed animal in Eddie's hands when he walks up and sits next to you on the bench. It’s a miniature pink dolphin, the best he could get with a lousy shot. 
You glance at him and smile, “Hi, stranger.” Eddie smiles back and passes the dolphin to you, you trade him for your slushie and snicker. “I thought you’d pick the shark.” 
Eddie shakes his head, and peers down at the drink in his hand as he swishes it around. “It’s not for me.” He takes a sip of your drink and you watch as he smacks his lips together, letting the taste of the sugary treat settle in. “This tastes like shit.”
You snort, bumping your knee against his, nearly breathless at the sight of Eddie’s smile. “Because it’s watered down, genius.” Despite his previous display of distaste, Eddie takes another sip of your drink and you smile as you watch. Your fingertips dig into the plush toy; you want so badly to run your fingers through his hair, push his bangs back and kiss the arch of his eyebrow.
You push your knee against his once more and he looks over at you. “Thank you for my gift.” It’s almost pathetic, how giddy you get when Eddie dotes on you. He once drew a sun on your hand and you could barely tear your gaze away from it for the rest of the day. It nearly ripped you apart when the ink rubbed off in the shower.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I would've gotten you one of those huge stuffed animals, but those games are shitty pieces of money laundering thieves.”
You laugh as Eddie kicks at a rock beside his foot, mumbling a few curses under his breath. Just as Eddie begins to add to his rant, a couple walks past you, an oversized bunny draped across one of their shoulders. You and Eddie watch as they stroll by, and you fail to hold back a laugh. “Are the games rigged or do you just have poor aim?” You tease, to which Eddie snickers and responds, “I’m sure you know enough about my aim.”
The back of your hand meets Eddie’s shoulder in a warning slap and he giggles like a teenage boy. 
You fall silent for a moment and Eddie melts into the feeling of your leg pressed against his. “Why don’t we go get something to eat? I know a place with better drinks than…whatever this is.” Eddie grimaces down at the drink and you roll your eyes. “We can’t just leave—” “Why not? Harrington and Buckley are here.” 
You glance at him, and you can’t bear to watch the way his shoulders sink with the reminder of your reality. “Right, forgot about that for a second.” He sighs. You press your lips together before taking in a breath, turning to him, “Yeah, but you also haven’t taken me on the Ferris Wheel yet.”
Eddie gazes at you for a moment before turning to look at the large spinning wheel. He turns back to you and lifts a brow, “You expect me to get on that thing?” And you’re rolling your eyes and ushering Eddie to stand up and follow you before your friends can notice your disappearance. He complains but follows anyway, “You know they built this shit overnight right? Does that sound remotely safe to you?” 
You let out a breathy laugh with a shake of your head, “Eddie, you smoke two packs a day and drink Jolt Cola like your life depends on it. That shit’ll kill you quicker than this ten-minute ride on a wobbly Ferris Wheel.” And well, Eddie can’t argue with you on that, so he sucks it up and follows you onto the ride.
Once you're on the ride, your body is pressed against Eddie’s as it begins, slowly and slowly inching you up to the top. You’re busy watching the scenery but Eddie, for the most part, is busy watching you. When you glance over at him, you become shy of his gaze and smile, pointing over his shoulder so he can turn to see the sunset. Eddie watches in silence for a moment before he speaks, “This might be the first time the sight of Hawkins doesn’t make me wanna gag…”
Eddie turns to you and winks, nudging you as he speaks “But I think that’s just because you’re here.”
You gaze at him for a minute before tilting your head, “Eddie Munson, are you flirting with me?”
Eddie hums, raising his shoulder to dramatically shy away from you as he twirls a piece of his hair with his free hand. “I’m not that obvious, am I?” His eyes shine with adoration and mischief.
You hum, tilting your head back and forth in faux thought, “Obvious? No. Cheesy? A million times yes.” “Come on that was good. You’ve gotta admit that was good.” Eddie scoffs when you shake your head no before replying, “It’ll just inflate that big head of yours.” And Eddie’s lightly pressing the entirety of his large hand against your face, playfully pushing you away as you giggle. 
You grasp his wrist to pull it away and Eddie thinks you’ll drop his hand, but he’s gladly mistaken when you lace your fingers with his. Your heart skips a beat at the familiar feeling of his rough, calloused fingertips pressed against the back of your hand. Whenever he’s spent long hours shredding his guitar, Eddie makes a show of holding his fingers up in front of you and wiggling them until you gently grasp his wrist and press careful kisses to each of his sore fingertips.
Eddie’s voice is gentle and steady when he speaks, “What happened to being careful?” Your eyes meet his and for a moment, you don’t even remember that you’re on a spinning wheel, you only know you’re here with Eddie. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.” You admit. 
His eyes are soft and silky pools of brown as they dart all over your face, searching for any sign of hesitation. “What about your brother? Our friends—” “Nothing matters when you’re 50 feet above Hawkins, Indiana.”
It’s your last trip around the Ferris Wheel before the ride ends, and Eddie refuses to wait in the line again and you’re looking at him like he’s a sky full of stars, so of course he kisses you. It’s slow and gentle and he wants to keep kissing you until his lungs shrivel up inside of him from lack of air. His hand cradles your jaw and he smoothes a thumb over your cheek when he pulls away.
The ride is almost over and you’re sad to have to return to your friends and be pulled away from Eddie. “Will you come over tonight?” You ask before the ride ends. Eddie had been waiting for you to ask, he’s been thinking about it all night. He tries not to sound too excited, but he’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on his face when you look at him, “Leave the window open?” “Bring some smoke and I'll think about letting you stay the night.” You tease, giggling when Eddie feigns offense.
As you step off the ride, you already want nothing more than the night to end, already missing the warmth of Eddie’s touch. But when you rejoin your friends and glance towards Eddie, he winks at you and you’re positive that you will sneak in at least two more secret rides before the end of the night.
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starwars-art-events · 3 months
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Art Event 4: Different Genres
Hello there!
This is an informal, for-fun art event, meant for any person who enjoys making art. This time, it's a two-parter: both a trade, and just a casual event for those who just wish to create art for themselves. It's a pressure-free event! No need to create a big masterpiece--just something you or others would happily enjoy.
The theme this time around is "Different Genres." You can choose any character(s) from any media(s) and put them into a different universe entirely. Make a clone a mermaid! Toss Thrawn into a K-drama! Hondo Ohnaka could sail the seas in the Golden Era of Piracy! Anakin Skywalker could be a Warrior cat! Whatever genre you can dream up, they could be in.
Types of art welcome:
Drawings (digital or scanned traditional)
Short comics
Short animation
Photo edits
Video edits (music or otherwise)
Music creation
Moodboards/photo collages
Quotes-and-photo collages
Other (contact moderator ASAP)
Dates to adhere to:
Deadline to join the trade: February 10th (There is no sign-up or deadline for free-posting individuals)
Dates to post: March 30th-31st
Rules:
For the trade: Joining requires creating art. To recieve art, you must create art! Simple as that. Many types of art are allowed (see above), and all can be adapted to how you wish to conceive yours.
You don't have to be "great" at any art to join! This is an informal event with no level restrictions. The important thing is that your art absolutely must have effort. For example, a moodboard should be cohesive, and it should contain enough photos that it could be worthy of giving as a gift. Make sure you are satisfied with what you are giving out (to your abilities levels, of course--don't expect the Star Wars Mona Lisa if you aren't to par with DaVinci's skills!).
This is an anonymous event. You will know who they are creating art for, but you will not know who you are recieving from! Until posting dates, please keep your art to yourself (or a trusted non-participating friend). In the words of Gandalf the Grey: Keep it secret; keep it safe.
Art should be created for your giftee based on things/characters/ideas they enjoy. Do a bit of "pseudo-stalking" (not real stalking) of their tags. See what the person enjoys, both in terms of mediums and concepts. If they have clone trooper OC's, base something off those guys! If they are a big Ezra Bridger fan, see what types of AUs they enjoy! If the concept of the Force makes them go wild, include that in your art! If you are at a loss for ideas, send an anon message to the person to see what they are interested in OR contact the moderator.
Please sign up only ONCE. You will recieve art from only ONE artist. The artist may wish to give you more than one piece of art, but it will only be from THAT artist alone. If you wish to make more art for someone else, arrange that on your own time, please!
If you need to drop out, that is okay! Things happen. You are able to drop out at any time. Please contact the moderator ASAP if you need to drop. Please understand that the other artists are putting their own time and effort into their pieces. The artist gifting their time and effort to you is no longer obligated to do so anymore. If you drop out, they are completely allowed to drop, too.
Important note: All skin tones and disabilities must be accurately portrayed. No skin tone should be lighter than the actor/character's actual skin colour. Disabilities must be depicted correctly. If not, you will be dropped. The same goes for respecting canon cultures. Please refrain from depicting Children of the Watch or Tuskens without their garments, unless the scenario is explicitly of situations where the removal of clothing/armour/helms is acceptable. Please cover the heads of Twi'lek women, and that of Mirialans. These requests are not only personal wishes of the moderators, but also just basic decency. Do your research portraying someone different than you. Do not fall prey to harmful tropes. This hurts others..
IF YOU HAVE ANY FURTHER QUESTIONS, PLEASE DM THE MODERATOR. You may do so here, or at @engagemythrusters or @darlin-djarin.
Sign Up Form for Trade Here
Thanks, all!
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buniyaad · 1 month
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i think one if the saddest things about the og kon run was how obvious it was that a lot of his party boy/sex-crazed/allegorical cokehead moments were mostly emulations of what HE thought a rockstar superhero should be. as much as ppl rant about tana and knockout’s transgressions, i think it’s also wise to note HE perpetuated some pretty ugly tropes BECAUSE of all the ugliness that surrounded him that he didn’t THINK was ugly until he was abused and violated to the point where geoff thought it was simply ok to erase that history and just push clex daddy issues on him instead of having him heal from his most traumatic years. because it wasn’t his fault he came off as a creep sometimes! trading sex for favors, being horny on main, making lewd comments. from an academic standpoint, he’s a victim of csa without KNOWING he’s a victim bc he’s not even considered a PERSON. it makes sense why he toxically attaches to yj bc he’s been broken from the start. their companionship begins to heal pieces of him but also creates additional attachments that end up causing him more grief, just like the way things went with the ravers. one day i hope we can go back to the roots of his problems bc it aint bc of clex dna that he’s constantly on suicide watch.
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moldycantaloupe · 20 days
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Lou I come once more with Ghoul thoughts ™️
I saw a post a while ago about giving Aurora angst, and I can't stop thinking about it. Freshly summoned Aurora being pushed to the side, sort of forgotten as the pack dotes on Phantom, because they're the new quint. Of course they're more important than her, why should she complain? But it gets lonely for her, not being able to bond with the ghoul she was summoned alongside because they're put on such a pedestal away from her by the rest of the pack. It gets worse on tour, not being able to fully bond with anyone because of how busy they all are.
Idk, lonely Aurora.
hello moon! I found Stardew valley a couple days ago and well, you know. been MIA
I saw the post, too! I'll be honest, I don't really care for the "pack forgets phantom" trope too much, maybe because i see it all the time at this point, but it's a good point to bring up!
Aurora being taught the basics of earth and then just being forgotten. She's a multi, the pack figured, and Sunshine and Swiss were independent when they were summoned; both actually preferred to be by themselves, so why wouldn't Aurora want that space? But she doesn't know that about them, so she really is just casted to the side.
Aurora, crying into the dark of her room while the rest of the pack is sleeping peacefully. Because she's apparently nothing while perfect Phantom gets everything. It's infuriating. It's devastating.
Aurora, eyes down to her plate quietly during breakfast. they only ask her the pleasantries- "How'd you sleep?" "Good." "mmm." before going about the morning.
Aurora, who has to lie through her teeth when Papa questions her. Who has to tell Papa that "yes, Papa, they treat me well. I am learning well, and am getting along with everyone."
Aurora, who decides it's because of her multi-ness. She's a jack of all trades but master at none, why on hell's green earth would they want such a ghoul as herself? But they love Swiss, and they speak so highly of Sunshine, her predecessor. What makes her different?
Aurora, fully breaking down in the middle of her room one night because she sees herself in the mirror, eyes darkened and emotions vacant. She knows this isn't her. She's been made into nothing, and who's fault is it, really? She doesn't know who to feel angrier at; herself or her pack. No, not her pack. They never were
... Aurora, not hearing the door open over her wails until the soft hand of Cumulus' is on her back.
Aurora, suddenly surrounded by multiple members of the pack in the middle of her room; Cumulus, Cirrus, Rain, Mountain. Phantom.
Aurora, confused and relieved but still so angry, as the pack members pour their heart out to her and ask for her forgiveness, as if she's transcendent enough to give it. As if she could trust them.
Phantom, taking hold of her balled up fist and lifting it up to their forehead. she knows of this gesture; it's acceptance, peace, a million "I love you's" in one motion. She breaks into a million pieces in their hands.
Aurora, days later, still wary of the pack but trying to make amends. Going with Sunshine to her first real practice. Sunshine, who had no idea what was happening until days ago, immediately took to protecting her. Aurora found it funny.
Aurora, weeks later, laughing at Swiss being so obliviously head over heels for her. Aurora, who sleeps and cuddles with Phantom nearly everyday. Aurora, who blushes when Mountain kisses her knuckles in greeting. Aurora, who purrs in comfort when all the ghoulettes dote over her.
Aurora, months later, in the first group huddle right before a show, casting her eyes over to Papa and seeing him beam at her. Aurora, who finally got her acceptance.
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momo-t-daye · 2 months
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Momo's Snapedom AU Ask Game!
I do love how the Snapedom has folks who write extensive meta with citations and how the Snapedom has oodles of people making a delightful diversity of AUs that gnaw on the bones of the canon narrative skeleton to cook up a more satisfying story-soup! So I thought it might be fun to put together a few questions for an ask game (after all, the fun part of fandom is interacting with other fans):
Do you have a name and/or a tag and/or a master post for your AU (so I can peruse your blog and admire your creativity)?
What is the premise of your AU (one sentence summary, tropes, your big “What-if” question, etc.!)?
Can you describe your AU badly?  (Because I do love hilariously misleading but not actually inaccurate descriptions of stories)
What your favorite thing about your AU? (Does it make you cackle with glee or do you break your own heart?)
What are the major divergence points in your AU?
Is there any part of the canon narrative you really like to build off of or interrogate with your AU?
Are there themes or motifs or specific concepts in your AU that you hope people will notice?  (Do you want to give hints about your masterful foreshadowing or chat about your extensive world building?  Should we all grab a floriography dictionary when flowers are mentioned?)
What are some key life moments in your AU!Snape’s life that differ from canon!Snape’s life?
How and why does your AU!Snape differ from the canon!Snape?
Would your AU!Snape want to trade places with canon!Snape (and vice versa!)? Why?
Do you know if Severus going to escape the gravitational pull of the canon narrative/fate in your AU?
Do you think any other characters are going to escape the gravitational pull of their canon narrative/fate in your AU?  If so, can any of that extra AU!velocity be attributed to Severus’ actions?
What era does your AU primarily take place in (is it focused on part of the canon timeline? Is the canon timeline adjusted a few years one way or another? Or are you playing with a futuristic sci-fi AU or a historical AU or something else entirely?  Maybe you have a 1998!Snape dealing with life in 1942 or some other combination?)
What is his childhood and/or family life like in your AU?  Is it better than his canon life starting out in Cokeworth?
Does Lily exist in your AU?  Are Severus and Lily friends in your AU?
Do any of the Marauders exist in your AU?  What role do they play in your AU Severus’ life?
Do the Malfoys exist in your AU?  How do they interact with your version of Severus?
Does Voldemort exist in your AU?  Does Severus join his cause at any point in your AU?
Does Dumbledore exist in your AU?  What role does he play in Severus’ life in your AU?
Does Harry Potter exist in your AU?  How does he interact with Severus in your AU?
Is there another canon character that plays a major role in your AU!Snape’s life?  What role do they play and how does it differ from their canon relationship with Snape?
Is an Original Character a major feature and player in your AU?  Who are they? What role do they play AU!Severus’ life?  How do they interact with any other canon characters in your story?
Does Severus have a significant other (or others) in your AU?
Does Severus have children in your AU?
Is Severus Snape the Hogwarts Potions Master in your AU?  If not, what is he doing instead?
Does Severus have any major interests (mycology, astronomy, sci-fi, baking elaborate puff pastries, art forgery, etc.) in your AU that we never got to see canon!Snape indulge in?  Do these interests play a major narrative role?
Do you have a snippet of prose (or an art piece or a list of headcanons) from your AU that you particularly enjoy and want to share?
Free space!  Any other questions folks want to ask?
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ystrike1 · 10 months
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I Raised A Boy Kindly But He Returned As An Obsessive Man - By Choam (6.5/10)
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There is absolutely no underage creepiness here, but the story is basic. Cookie cutter. Plain. It's like vanilla ice cream, even though it's a yandere story. It's about a fire witch who saves a slave, who happens to be the secret sole male heir of a Ducal house.
Sersinia is a woman controlled by fire. Her magic is like a curse. It is connected to her rage. When she gets a little bit angry sometimes fire comes out. Magic is very rare in this world...and witches are feared. Being a powerful one kinda sucks.
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Sersinia could have been a great protagonist, but you know what's up. This is an otome isekai. Sersinia's soul gets replaced with a generic Mary Sue, who hates being powerful.
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Poor May Sue doesn't want power and she doesn't care about her gorgeous face. She wants to gamble to make money, and then she wants to spend the rest of her life living quietly in a village. She knows witches like Sersinia will never be loved, so she just wants cash and a hole to hide in.
She's good at gambling...but the Viscount who owns the casino is a scammer. He doesn't actually want anybody to win. When Sersinia does he immediately tries to get rid of her.
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The Viscount gives her a "valuable" slave with no name as collateral. Sersinia takes pity on the boy...who is actually a man. She names him Ben. He's painfully skinny, and cowardly due to constant beatings. He is twenty years old, and he has never had a normal life. We don't know how the Duke's son became a slave, but the Viscount is clueless.
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The Viscount bought Ben because he's pretty, and the richest Count in the land loves cute men. The Viscount is in debt, so the pretty boy is a valuable chess piece.
Sersinia is in deep shit.
She's stuck with a random guy, and she really needs that money. If she ever snaps in anger the villagers will turn on her and execute the scary witch.
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Ben and Sersinia get along great. They're both gentle and inexperienced in friendship and love. Ben's crush is obsessive from the start. Ben sees her as his savior, but they are also happy together.
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Sersinia goes against the Viscount. Her evil side flares up, and she eventually scares him into submission.
Then we have a big problem.
Sersinia is an all powerful flame witch.....but she doesn't want to kill anybody. Not even the slave owner...which is ridiculous...The Viscount literally runs a scammy gambling house AND a slave trade ring. Sparing him isn't mercy its just plain stupid, and boring.
Sersinia doesn't want the fire curse to drive her crazy, but she can just stab the guy....
Like...why not???
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Sersinia saves Ben for real this time. She decides that she wants him more than her gambling winnings. They....kinda get married. They move into a tiny house. Ben becomes a carpenter.
Then he vanishes.
It breaks her heart.
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He returns years later...when she's about to be burnt at the stake. Old timey sexism is back guys. It's your favorite trope??? Don't you love it??? Sersinia was going to be executed because she refused to sleep with the village chiefs son. Sersinia doesn't kill the rapist either. She decides to pretend to die. Obviously fire can't kill her. She was going to sneak off when the ropes around her wrists burned away.
Ben's return doesn't make her happy.
She doesn't trust him, because Duke Alexdmikan is a cruel sadist. Yes, this takes place in a novel. Sersinia was the villain....yawn....
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The Mary Sue moments keep coming...and coming. Ben (he takes the name she gave him as his real name) tries to kill the rapist that was going to BURN HER for refusing him...and she stops him...because she doesn't like killing.
.
.
.
.
Where is the flavor???
I'm bored.
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kandisheek · 2 months
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FIC REC WEEK 11 – A/B/O
AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: AvengersNewB
When I'm in the mood for some really great A/B/O dynamics, I always turn to Ven. She really has a gift when it comes to turning tropes on their heads and making them her own. And I love, love, LOVE the way she writes omega Tony in particular. She's incredible, and her fics deserve all the love in the world.
Here's some of her work that I think you should check out:
Must Be True
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,793 Tags: Lingerie, Praise Kink, Protective Steve
Summary: When the stakes are too high, Tiberius Stone offers his omega, Tony, as a little side incentive to close important business deals. Tonight’s business is an arms deal with the Avengers, and the alpha they’re meeting is Captain America.
Reasons why I love it: Ugh, Tiberius is such a piece of shit. Ven really captures that essence here. And oh my god, poor Tony, but at least he makes the best out of a horrible situation. I'd read a million more words in this universe, and I really hope you give it a shot too, because it's awesome!
Braid
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 2,378 Tags: Vikings, Arranged Marriage, Sharing a Bed
Summary: Viking Arranged Marriage AU - Young omega Tony is traded to the Vikings by Stane, for safe passage and gets married to alpha Steve Rogers the captain of the chiefly vessel.
Reasons why I love it: This one is so goddamned sweet, it almost makes me want to cry. I never knew I needed to read about Tony braiding Steve's hair, but I did, and Ven made the perfect version of it. The whole setting is amazing, and Tony's insecurities and doubts feel so real, it's like they're jumping out from the screen. I love this one more than I can say, so please go and experience it for yourself!
Never Enough
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 4,639 Tags: Insecure Steve, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Mpreg
Summary: "Tony, what I'm trying to say... I think you should have a baby even though I apparently can't have one. At least in the near future. I think...I think…" He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath." I think you should get bonded again"
Reasons why I love it: It's honestly refreshing to see a fic where Steve is the one who is completely insecure in their relationship. Their emotions read very true to their characters, and I love how Tony is so quick to reassure Steve that all his doubts are unfounded. Plus, the ending is so sweet it makes me want to scream into a pillow. This fic is amazing, so go ahead and read it!
Restless Gravity
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 10,929 Tags: Warlord Steve, Temporary Amnesia, Cyborgs
Summary: Omega Tony Stark gets bonded to a human-hating space warlord, to get his people a new home after the destruction of their planet. Warlord - Arranged marriage AU, with a bit of a twist.
Reasons why I love it: This fic has it all. Amazing worldbuilding, a great plot twist, identity porn, incredible characterization and wonderful dialogue. I love this one to pieces, and I hope you go and read it, because it deserves all the love in the world.
Love of Inconvenience
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 4,856 Tags: Marriage of Convenience, Immigration, Mutual Pining
Summary: Tony had a plan; bond with Steve to keep him from deportation until he could find Steve's childhood friend Mr. Barnes. Temporary. For convenience. The plan did not entail falling for this perfect beautiful omega.
Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, this fic just makes me want to grab them and smash their faces together. It's so good! The way they finally get together in the end is so satisfying, and the journey there kept me hooked the whole time. I love this fic so much, please go and give it some love!
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fankayart · 10 days
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Do you have any favorite non-romantic/gen ego fics? It's been such a long time and I want to get back into ones with a good plot.
Hmmm… I do have a few! Here are some by different authors with different vibes, depending on what you enjoy you might like these or might not :)
Aura: Beyond Imagination by Kiranagi, Kitsunekitto
This is a good overall fic, it’s about the egos slowly coming to life around Jack. It’s a very nice story! I have yet to read the third part, but you might enjoy it. Little bit of tension, lots of “trying to make it work”, and misunderstood Anti, if you’re interested in that kind of thing.
Fantasy Masks AU by CrystalNinjaPhoenix
BIG jump. This AU has nothing to do with them looking alike, this is all a fantasy AU where they meet and go on a quest to take down a tyrannical king. They prepare to lead a rebellion, Chase gets weird ass dreams, I think this fic is very neat and gives off a DnD campaign vibe. They also have had a lair made of dragon bones and I think that’s so fucking cool.
Memory by beerecordings
Absolutely fucked Anti torture fic where Henrik trades pieces of his life and memories for things in return. Manipulative Anti, and kinda horrifying, so have fun!
Also Consider Checking Out —
These Hands of Mine by Sapphire_Ruby (Jackie loses his powers and has to come to terms with it. I just can’t find it anywhere, it might be gone :()
The Prince of Puppets: A Jacksepticeye + Egos Fantasy AU by RogueOfBrokenTime (Oh boy, can you tell what my favorite trope is? This one is about a curse put over the land by a certain someone. I think the concepts are neat, very old school Disney kind of fic (lovingly) but it IS discontinued)
The Inverted AU by CrystalNinjaPhoenix (Personal favorite, Anti is trying to save Jack from a hoard of violent and twisted people that are after him. Basically, the bad guy is your ONE good guy. Also enjoying their Septic Heroes fic too)
All of these are on AO3!!! There’s a lot of fics I could put here but a lot of them are fairly old, I have yet to get back into reading new ones,,, but hopefully these will get you started! I tried to stick to long reads, so all of these will have fairly long chapters :)
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emilykaldwen · 29 days
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The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Seven
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Rating: Explicit Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen
Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.
Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm
no tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3
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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six
AO3 Link
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CHAPTER SEVEN - THE LOOK YOU GIVE
Abby and Helaena find their voices in different ways, and we have new arrivals at the Red Keep.
Abby pressed her hands against her bared collarbones, feeling the prickle of heat that crept down her cheeks and flushed across every bit of skin that was revealed by the square cut neckline of the new gown. Wylla Karstark’s ruby red pout was pulled into an amused smile while she tugged at the laces of the other girl’s bodice. The pale blue taffeta had a satin shine and was, by far, the loveliest thing she’d ever owned. The neckline and cuffs of her fitted sleeves were edged with the finest ivory lace. Her golden red curls hung freely down her back, with delicate, mother of pearl combs keeping her hair from her face and the light, ivory veil that covered her hair in place. She watched Wylla move in the reflection of the mirror, wishing her own hair could look as thick and lovely as the elder girl’s raven curls.
“You look lovely, my lady.” Wylla’s northern accent was a song in itself, her amusement nothing but lighthearted. “You might make him swallow his tongue, since he already can’t keep his eyes off you.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Aegon’s…” Abby bit her lip before Wylla tsked at her like a cat so she could dab some coral paint onto her mouth. Abby remained still and silent until she was done. “Aegon does, well, I mean I do catch him looking. But,” her brow furrowed and her hands fluttered and smoothed over the bodice of the dress. She missed her woven belt, and the feel of the tiny mends she’d made in the fabric.
“But what?” Wylla asked with a finely arched eyebrow and promptly reached up to pinch Abby’s cheeks until they went a deeper pink. She’d been here only a fortnight, having come south with her brother while he discussed some sort of trade agreements, and was promptly pulled into service by the queen. Better than a Hightower cousin, in Abby’s book. With Wylla, she didn’t feel spied on like Lady Penrose, nor belittled. In the short time they had known one another, Abby thought she might be making a friend.
‘Maybe', came the shy, giddy thought, 'she could be a sister.’ She loved Helaena, who had been her sister and companion, with all her heart, but Wylla had quickly filled the empty spot in Abby’s chest that she suspected her own sister, Corynna, should have filled.
It was a strange feeling to not have to take care of someone. While she was still struggling to get used to the idea of being waited on, she wouldn’t deny that there was something in her that ached to be cared for. Wylla’s no nonsense and relatively pleasant manner, and surprising sarcasm, was a delight and a surprise and she found herself hanging on her every word, looking to her for guidance in only these last few days.
“But what, my lady?” Came Wylla’s repeated question, and her cool fingers touched her chin, rubbing off a bit of stray lip paint with her thumb. Abby crinkled her nose and huffed.
“But I feel as though this is too much. That I shouldn’t be… that it’s unseemly to attract attention.”
“Och!” Her fingers flicked the tip of Abby’s nose. “What southern nonsense are you spouting now? You’re betrothed to a prince, are you not?” Abby nodded. “You want him to admire you, and no others, right?”
A heated sensation curled in her chest thinking about Aegon looking at other girls, and resolutely ignoring her. “Well, of course I want him to admire me. I want to please him.”
“And he should also please you, that’s what my mother always says. A woman takes her own pleasure in a marriage, just as much as the husband, and if you flush any redder, you’ll turn into one of those apples, I’m sure.”
Abby nodded again, pressing her hands once more to the expanse of collarbone on display. She felt so silly being self-conscious about her dress. It was nowhere near as revealing as some of the dresses the ladies of the court wore. Nowhere near as revealing as what some of the women she’d seen Aegon flirt with wearing. Collarbones and shoulders and the swells of their breasts teased in the candlelight; Aegon flush with wine and preening beneath the attention.
“Mayhaps I should tug the shoulders down some more?”
Wylla did little to disguise the indelicate snort she let out and Abby felt her hands tug along the tops of her sleeves. “Won’t work on this dress but maybe you should push your breasts up.”
“My what?” Abby squeaked, her hands now pressing against her perfectly concealed bust.
Wylla rolled her eyes, and shoved her hands down her own top to adjust her breasts. “Now you try.”
“I… Oh, just…” Muttering soft curses beneath her breath, she reached down into her tightly fitted bodice to push her breasts up so they swelled ever so softly, framed by the lace. “Do you think he’ll like this?”
“My dear girl, he won’t know what to do with himself. Lucky for me, I get to watch. Now come on.”
Abby’s fingers carefully clasped the thin, silver chain around her neck. The charm was the shield and rivers of her house, tiny against her decolletage. It was so delicate she was always afraid of snapping it, but it was the one bit of jewelry she had. So fretful over herself, Abby did not immediately notice Helaena falling in step beside her, dressed in pale pink and silvery blue, sleeves puffed at her shoulders and elbows. Abby noticed her breasts looked nice in the wide cut of the neckline, not as deep as her own.
“It’ll be better once you have the jewels on you,” Helaena said as if picking up Abby’s self-conscious thoughts, or maybe she simply understood the look. “I like it when Aemond looks at my breasts. Aegon likes breasts, he talks about them all the time. Aemond says Aegon talks about yours a lot.”
Wylla, half a step behind, positively cackled. “Oh, this is going to be glorious.”
Abby knew she was as red as her hair. “I-I can’t do this, I have to change.” Helaena grabbed her by the arm and jerked her back, her other hand coming up to straighten the necklace around Abby’s neck.
“No you don’t. You change nothing, do you understand? There is nothing lacking, and there is nothing wrong with you,” Helaena said softly, brushing a kiss at the corner of her mouth.
She opened her mouth and then shut it with a click of her teeth, nodding mutely and took a deep breath. “I’m not this nervous seeing him day to day,” she said softly.
“Nor when you pulled him behind the tapestry outside mother’s room to kiss him,” Helaena said knowingly, a smile playing across her face. “Or when Aemond found you pushing him up against the bookcase.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Abby could see Wylla’s face going red from how hard she was trying to keep her grin at bay. Failing, of course, but she appreciated the effort. She shifted on her feet and smoothed her fingers over the delicate satin bodice once more. “I don’t think that’s true. Tis I who…” She trailed off, gesturing vaguely into nothing. “It’s rather unbecoming. He never initiates anything. He’s exceedingly good about it.” Which continued to confuse her to no end because she’d seen the way he’d ogle serving maids and the other ladies, not to mention how he did, in fact, like kissing her. She’d seen him reach and pinch a lady’s hip while passing, that stupid and devastating smirk crossing his features. His hands would encompass her waist or cup her cheeks, but other than that, he surprisingly did not reach for her.
He also didn’t complain when she reached for him. Aegon didn’t resist when she was the one who dragged him into quiet spots, grinning at her giggles and returning her kisses.
“It’s Aegon. He’s a fool, and he drinks too much, and if you don’t think he’s as nervous about you as you are of him, then I don’t know what you’ve been paying attention to our whole lives.” Helaena’s tone was gentle, if firm, as if patiently explaining to a child that the sun rose at dawn and set at dusk. Her lavender eyes looked down the hall towards the grand staircase and then reached up to adjust one of the combs in Abby’s hair. Helaena’s own silver-gold hair was braided back from her face, a vine of pearls woven into it. Guilt stung her that she hadn’t been the one to do Helaena’s hair.
“So you’re saying he’s too nervous to, um…”
“Accost you?” Wylla supplied helpfully. “In a good way.”
Abby huffed. “Yes. Accost me the way I want to accost him. No, surely there’s a better word than that.”
A smirk crossed Helaena’s features, wicked and lovely across her pretty mouth. “You want him up your skirts the way you want to see beneath his breeches.”
“Helaena!” Abby gasped just as Wylla let out a bubbling screech of giggles, unable to contain them. Helaena joined in the mirth and Abby growled at them both. “I am not dignifying that with an answer.”
The Targaryen princess, a dragonrider in her own right, with a mount older than most, leaned in to brush her cheek against her own, mouth close to her ear. “I know you were thinking about Aegon when we practiced kisses,” Helaena murmured, mirth in her voice but even amidst all the teasing, Abby didn’t feel belittled. “And you’ve been putting it to good use.” She pulled back, and Abby breathed through the heated pool in her belly and all the squirming wriggling that came with it. “It’s Aegon,” Helaena repeated.
She nodded. “It’s Aegon.”
“He calls his horse Mighty Mighty, and if he could get away with it, he’d likely go sleep in the Dragonpit next to Sunfyre.”
Abby felt herself smiling at that, a soft hint of a giggle escaping her. “Mighty Kostōba, the mighty mighty horse.” None had the heart to correct him when he was young, but the eventual teasing still made him growl. Helaena pressed her hands to her shoulders, turning her back towards the stairs and pushing her forward, smacking her bottom for good measure and earning a yelp for the trouble. The princess grinned, tongue poking between her teeth and blushing, Abby returned it, heading through the growing throng of people moving through the corridor.
“You’re not used to this, are you, my lady?” Wylla murmured beside her.
“Abby, please,” she returned with the anxious thread still in her voice, picking up her skirt out of habit. Thankfully her skirts did not trail. She wouldn’t want to ruin the finery worrying about picking her way through the city.
“Mmm, we’re in public now,” Wylla said but bumped her shoulder against her and the warm fondness usually reserved for the clutch bloomed in her chest at the elder’s camaraderie. “How scandalous.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Abby giggled, inclining her head in greeting as they passed Lord Tyland on the stairs, who only spared a surprised look at her as he headed up. “You’re ridiculous and I love it, truly.” She felt the northerner keep close and Abby reached a hand behind her to take Wylla’s and give it a reassuring squeeze. The Keep was a lot, she knew, and she’d grown up there. She couldn’t imagine how much it was for a woman from the edge of the world and silently hoped that chaperoning them through the city would not be too much.
It was then her eyes fell upon Aegon, lounging at the foot of the stairs against the bannister, arm slung over the carving of the dragon that reclined along the the end, its forelegs and head resting at the pillar. His moonlit hair was a cloud of soft waves around his head, his pale skin pink and very scrubbed clean. The leather jerkin he wore was new: buttersoft black leather with shining, golden clasps in the shape of dragon heads, their gaping mouths swallowing the flame closures. The shirt beneath was red, of all things, instead of the green his mother forced him and Aemond into. As crimson as the Targaryen dragon embolized on the banners around them, the cuffs of the linen were tied with gold lacing that criss crossed their way up his sleeves, his arms crossed while he waited. The golden belt around his waist was carved to represent dragon scales, and a dagger in a matching scabbard hung from it, the pommel also a golden dragon. Even the leather trousers he wore, shoved into shining black boots, had the same gold lacing up the sides.
She bit her lip, admiring him while he hadn’t noticed her approach, until she saw that his gaze was towards a group of women laughing near the doors. The fluttering, heated squirming in her belly increased, and she made a sound in the back of her throat, aware of it only because of how it scratched.
“Did you just growl?” She barely heard Wylla mutter before she was making her way down the stairs.
“There you are!” Abby declared, a smile on her face, feeling the chain of her necklace slide against her collarbones, feeling the warm metal of her sigil charm fall into the slight space between her breasts. Her voice felt too loud, for she did her best to ignore the other gazes that turned in their direction, focused only on Aegon who craned his neck at the call before he jerked up from his languid position to turn fully towards her.
There was a deeply satisfied feeling that trickled down her spine at the way his head meant to turn before looking back again, his lilac eyes widening and turning fully toward her. She smiled far more genuinely this time, feeling the flutter start up again as she approached and took the hand he offered her. “You look very handsome,” she told him softly as he simply gaped at her, her own mouth dry. Her belly fluttered again, and she reached up with her free hand to hook her fingers in the gold necklace he wore, the sapphires winking in the light streaming through the windows. She used her hold on it to tug him down enough to brush a soft kiss against his cheek, leaving behind just a slight shine of the coral paint over the flush of pink that suffused his own cheeks.
She heard Aegon exhale a muttered curse that had her swallowing, his hand warm where it enveloped hers, and he turned his head as she pulled back so his nose could bump against hers. It surprised her, and she let out a soft chuckle that had a grin spreading slowly across his face. Sharp and playful, safe and edged in danger all the same.
His pupils had blown black, the lilac a vibrant ring.
Abby rocked back on her heels, smiling back at him and let go of his necklace.
“Good thing we’re taking the damned carriage,” he said, his thumb stroking against the palm of her hand while he guided her down the last few steps.
“Why is that?” she asked and Aegon tugged her closer so she could slip her hand into the crook of his arm. They were being watched - they were meant to be watched - and she wanted to hide her face against his arm, but instead she only tilted her head towards his as he inclined his own.
“Because I fear someone would try to pull you from the horse and spirit you away,” he said, a sidelong glance towards the guards. She squeezed his arm, her other hand coming up to press against his chest while they made their way out the main doors to the courtyard. The usual smell of the baking red stone had given way to something that was earthier and fresh - the storms the previous few days having washed away the dust and dirt that clung to the air.
The carriage was waiting, the pair of horses attached pawing at the ground, their bay coats freshly brushed and harnesses clinking with the shakes of their heads. The Cargylls were both mounted on their horses as their escorts for the outing, Ser Harrold beside them, his polished helm gleaming beneath his arm.
Kostōba, Aegon’s horse, nearly as precious to him as Sunfyre, stood patiently beside the carriage, reins held by one of the stablehands while the footman stood at the open carriage door. The stallion was a gift for Aegon’s eighth name day nearly a decade ago, and had grown larger than most of the other horses in the stable that didn’t belong to the Kingsguard. His coat was a creamy gold color, dappled in a way that made it seem like he had scales of his own. Kostōba’s eyes, bright and brilliantly blue, took in his surroundings, and he let out a soft sound when Aegon whistled to him.
Abby’s fingers tightened in Aegon’s arm when he started to pull away, confusion tripping at her words. “A-are you not, are we not riding together?” The previous warmth had given way to an icy discomfort, and she reached up to press a hand to her belly, her fingers scraping against the fabric with nervous tension.
“We’re going into the city, so I thought you’d feel more comfortable riding with Lady Karstark.” He avoided her gaze, looking at some other spot on her face. His eyes darted lower, along her low neckline. Heat prickled against her skin, but she was not as giddy for it now.
“You said we’d be riding in the carriage, Aegon.” She hated how unsure her voice sounded in her ears, and she dropped her hands from him and instead held her skirts. A deep breath, and a glance at Wylla to give her a slight, reassuring smile. “Is this because we’re not alone? Because of last time?”
Last time they’d come from the Dragonpit had resulted in them being caught upon arrival, Abby half dragged across his lap, her fingers in his hair and his hands bunched in her skirts. The Queen had subsequently forbidden them from riding Sunfyre together. Abby’s feet were to remain firmly on the ground until the wedding.
She’d been the one to initiate that as well.
Aegon shook his head, a sound escaping him, and he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Immediately, she felt her mouth water, wanting to bite on the tip of his finger, and she allowed him to tilt her head back. The jealousy that lingered hoped those ladies saw this; that he touched her so intimately and not them.
“I meant what I said about rather you being in the carriage than someone thinking that you’re ripe for the picking.” While it was endearing in its own protective way, it now rang hollow to Abby’s ears. They were burning beneath her curls and the soft, ivory veil that hung around her.
“We have the Kingsguard, Aegon, I don’t understand. For that reason, I shouldn’t leave the Keep at all.” Aegon pulled away, brushing a kiss against her forehead, and she longed for more. She longed for his lips in other places. “Aegon-” she made to follow him but Wylla caught her elbow and ushered her towards the footman.
“Get in, make yourself cozy, I’ll handle this.” She said it so matter of factly that Abby could only stare at her. Wylla merely smiled back, bobbing a curtsy, and gathered her dove gray skirts in hand, marching over to Aegon.
Abby climbed in, but lingered in the doorway to watch in fascination as Wylla Karstark hissed something to Aegon, unafraid of whatever royal protocol should be followed. There was some gesturing, and she watched her lady point toward the carriage, angling her way into Aegon’s space, not to flirt, but very clearly to intimidate. Aegon seemed to hesitate, and then shoved the reins back in the stable boy’s hands, tenderly petting the stallion’s neck and murmuring to him, before he marched towards the carriage. Abby hurriedly drew back and took her place against the far corner from the door, smoothing her skirt.
“Better this than me getting Ser Harrold,” she heard Wylla mutter, half in the carriage to glare at Aegon who was behind. “I’m not afraid of some pampered southern boy, dragonriding prince or no.”
Wylla gave her a smile as she climbed in and Abby stared at her in confusion while Aegon followed, throwing himself into the seat across from her as the door latched shut.
“Kostōba not so mighty today?” she asked, her hurt feelings demanding she needle him, even as her usual cheerful mask slid over her features. Aegon barely spared her a glance, pouting like a child instead of a man grown.
The carriage jerked as they headed through the gate and down the road. Wylla had turned her attention to unlatching the lattice covering on the window to peer out, the illusion of privacy appreciated. Aegon’s neck was as red as his shirt. He was clearly refusing to look at her and it wasn’t the first time he’d done this. In fact, Aegon had jumped from any casual touch she gave for the past few months. It was why they hadn’t ridden on Sunfyre together until they’d gone flying on the picnic and he’d apologized to her. Where she’d kissed him. In the subsequent weeks, between kisses she’d stolen because it was her stealing all the kisses, and dragging Aegon behind blind corners, although he never complained.
“I meant it, you know. That you look handsome today.” While she didn’t mind silence, she didn’t like this silence. The type where it felt like there were teeth along the edges, chewing into it if they weren’t careful. “I don’t know why that seems to have offended you so much.” The words came out a little harsher than she meant, her arms wrapped around herself and her gaze turned away.
“It didn’t offend me. I just thought that you’d like some privacy.” There was a crack at the edge of Aegon’s voice and it drew her gaze to the prince. Her betrothed. The one who tasted like whatever sweets he’d stolen from her, and whose hands felt like they’d swallow her whole, so hot that she could feel them through the layers of her gowns.
Abby turned from the window to look at him and met his gaze. Not as black as it had been in the hall. His eyes always went dark when she kissed him, so she knew that it was supposed to be a good thing, and she couldn’t understand why he was acting like this. She had been agonizing for days about this. She had just been lamenting to Wylla and Helaena about this and thought ‘This is just silly, Aegon cares for me, look at how he watched me come down the stairs’ but his mercurial behavior was nearly as bad as his mother’s.
The comparison was on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she met his lilac gaze with her own, blue eyes fixed upon his face, and said, “One moment, your hands are in my hair, and you look at me like I’m some sort of salvation or that you want to devour me. The next moment, like just now, you couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Lady Wylla had to threaten you to get in here-”
“She did no such-”
“I absolutely did,” Wylla interrupted. “Oh, wait, I’m not supposed to be listening.”
Aegon’s mouth snapped shut, and Abby didn’t glance over at the other side of the carriage. She kept her eyes on his. “If you don’t want me, then we’ll turn the carriage around and tell your mother.” She smoothed her hands over her skirt and took a deep breath. She was worried that tears would threaten, but her eyes remained mercifully clear and she raised her eyebrows at him. Aegon was staring at her, the pout faded from his sullen expression to look wide eyed in surprise. “We can. You can stop this. It’ll fade away, only just a rumor. A dalliance. There is no shame in being a prince’s momentary plaything, since we haven’t… I kissed you first, after all. I have only ever kissed you first and I will not let you keep doing this to me-”
One second, Aegon was frozen in his seat staring at her, the next, his hands grabbed hers and yanked her to him. Abby fell into him with the rocking of the carriage, and before she could straighten herself, Aegon kissed her.
Aegon kissed her first.
One large hand wound around her back while the other cradled the back of her head, his fingers tangled in the hair that escaped her veil. His mouth wasn't as soft as it had been before, this time moving as if he would claim her here in this carriage. She gasped when he tightened his hold against her, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue between her parted lips, to curl it behind her teeth. She swallowed his sigh, her fingers bunching up the soft, red linen of his shirtsleeves.
Wylla’s presence was forgotten. All that existed was the way Aegon was kissing her like he was starving, as if someone had tried to take her from him - like in a song, like she was the source of every breath he needed. When they finally parted, Aegon tilted his head back against the side of the carriage, watching her with half lidded eyes and his mouth smeared with coral lip paint.
He hummed and she could feel it vibrate through her and she found herself humming in return, still holding herself with her grip on his arms. “I’ll fight anyone who suggests you’re a mere dalliance,” he said with his voice heavy. Abby reached up to cup his chin and stroke her thumb along where the color had smeared, wiping it away.
“So you’ll fight yourself, Your Grace?” She couldn’t help but point out that kissing her senseless was well and good, but her heart still felt sore and confused by his treatment.
Aegon scoffed and drew her closer with his fingers still cradling her head. She felt warm, and soft, and the sound that escaped her was equally so - a little mewl and a question she didn’t have the words to voice but that he seemed to understand because he licked along her cupid’s bow, teasing her and nipping at the swollen pout of her lower lip. “This is why I am the way I am, hunītsos.”
“I don’t understand,” she murmured with a shake of her head. Aegon’s fingers tightened briefly and drew a soft gasp from her when his grip tugged at her scalp. She shivered and his eyes glanced down to her low neckline, his teeth scraping over his own lower lip like he wanted to bury her face between her breasts. The understanding of why Wylla was in the carriage with them nudged at her, because had they been alone, Abby didn’t think she would even deny him. In fact, she thought she might even invite him to do so.
“What don’t you understand?” he asked and his fingers slowly loosened from her hair and pet her curls back into place before drawing his fingers slowly down her jaw and along her hammering pulse in her throat. “Do you not understand how badly I crave you? Because I thought that I made it abundantly clear.”
She blushed and shook her head. His thumb stroked along the front of her throat and she stilled, the weight and warmth of his hand making her tremble, the ache in her breasts taking her aback. “Sometimes, maybe. I’ve felt very…” She tried to find the words amidst her shyness. “I’ve felt like I’ve been chasing you, that I desire you more than you do for me.”
The wicked smirk she adored cut across his plump mouth and he squeezed her throat gently, pulling a gasp from her. “Abrogail Strong, I desire and crave you to madness and if I let myself go, I fear that I won’t keep myself from devouring you whole.”
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Helaena pretended not to notice that there was a smudge of what looked like strawberry jam on the corner of little Floris’ mouth. Instead, her eyes took in the way one of the girl’s black braids was a little looser than the other. It lacked symmetry in a way that made her fingers itch to fix it. The girl’s dark eyes were wide with excitement and she could hardly keep still - a grasshopper bouncing on her feet and trying as hard as she could to contain herself in their presence. It did little to stop her from darting her gaze around, little mouth parted in wonder. She supposed the Red Keep was a magnificent sight to one who’d never seen it up close like this, let alone on dragonback.
Helaena’s lavender eyes slid to the elder girl.
Cassandra, the eldest of Lord Borros’ daughters, was more sedate in her observations. She did not share the same bubbling excitement as her little sister, and the black traveling gown she wore underscored the radical differences between her and the butter yellow clad Floris. Despite outer appearances, there was a blatant curiosity in her gaze as she took in the bustle of the courtyard; the Baratheon caravan had arrived ahead of the ladies, and the last of the trunks had just been carried inside to their new lodgings. Now it was courtiers and guardsmen, and servants all.
She felt Cassandra’s eyes fall on her critically, not unlike other ladies at court. Helaena had grown used to their gazes and the fact she did not fit the mold of a princess. She was not vibrant the way stories of her elder sister painted her - The Realm’s Delight, laughing and shining and riding and dancing. Helaena was quiet, far preferring the solitude of the garden to being in crowds, but she made every effort to be nice, to be friendly, and while she’d never heard a whisper about some perceived cruelty, Helaena felt as if she couldn’t quite get it.
She could not mirror the way Cassandra Baratheon looked to her, a golden necklace made up of antlers around her regal throat - a look that even a good week in a carriage could not take away how utterly put together she appeared..
How much of a princess she looked.
‘Sharp and soothing,’ Helaena thought. ‘The mint winds and chokes like ivy. The children can’t breathe, it’s bursting from their mouths.’
She blinked, shifting, and her shoulder brushed against Aemond’s where he was a warm presence beside her. His mouth was pressed in his usual stern expression, but at her movement, he lifted a hand to touch between her shoulder blades.
It was moments like these where Helaena felt most grateful for Aemond. Not when he was railing about their future together, the one that he’d decided and she didn’t deny, or about his place in life. It was the softer moments, when it felt like before: before the loss of his eye, before Vhagar, when it felt like her brother was there beside her once more. Quiet in his companionship, unwavering in his support, near supernatural in his understanding of her.
This was the Aemond she missed. The Aemond she cared for, the Aemond who was so absent.
Emboldened by the moment, Helaena straightened, a smile soft on her face. She did not need a crown or a herald to announce her place.
“It is our pleasure to welcome you both to King’s Landing. I hope that your journey wasn’t too difficult,” Helaena said, pushing past the urge to scream nonsense and make scary faces at them both to send them running all the way back to Storm’s End.
“We saw a bear!” Floris exclaimed with bright excitement. “Didn’t we, Cass? It was huge! I thought the guards were going to kill it, but they managed to chase it -”
“What my sister means to say is that the journey had its moments, but thankfully was uneventful, your Graces,” Cassandra cut in, a hand placed on the younger’s shoulder and a smooth curtsy performed. Her voice wasn’t unkind, but perhaps the long journey had made Lady Cassandra less tolerable to her younger sister’s excitement.
“Hmmm,” Aemond said, and Helaena smiled. Floris’ gaze was darting back from Aemond’s face to Helaena’s hands and she felt her brother shift beside her uncomfortably. “If you’ll follow us, we’ll take you to her grace, Queen Alicent, to be greeted.” Floris’ eyes went wide and Aemond was already turning on his polished boot to lead the way.
Cassandra’s own eyes widened some, her hands spasming against her skirts before reaching for Floris’ hand, jerking her behind. “Come along and don’t gawk,” she hissed softly, and Floris whined in response, a grumbling, “Not so tight, Cassa.” Helaena pursed her lips and followed Aemond, leading the pair.
It was, amusingly enough, Cassandra who let out the first quiet gasp entering the entry hall to Maegor’s Holdfast. The ceiling rose up so high that it was obscured with shadow. It was the early afternoon and the place was bustling with courtiers and administrators, all giving Aemond wide berth as he cut a path like a shark through the water.
“Your rooms will be within the ladies apartments,” Aemond explained when they reached the second landing. He paused, gesturing to the right. “It’s where the unmarried attendants of our mother’s stay.” His voice was even and steady, ever the proper one, ever the confident speaker. Ever everything, that was Aemond. Yet it rankled her that he would take charge of this when it should be her.
‘He’s only trying to protect you’, Helaena thought and while he was good at that, while she was grateful for it, Mother did the same. Everyone did the same.
“However, since you shall be serving me,” Helaena said, raising her voice and plastering a smile on her face, remembering that smiles could be heard in voices, “And Lady Abrogail, you shall come to us in the mornings for duties once things are settled. No need to worry about that now.”
Floris nodded excitedly, but her sister looked on more sedately, her expression polite. “Is it possible to have our own rooms until you… have everything sorted?” She asked. “I hope you can appreciate that given our station and our familial connection, such things would be appropriate.”
Familial connection? Helaena thought. She did not look at Aemond, not needing him to think he had to step in for her.
“I appreciate your concerns, Lady Cassandra. If you are concerned about your sleeping arrangements, you may bring it up with our mother, the Queen.” Helaena smoothed her hands over the soft pink of her skirt and gestured for them to follow. “This way!” Her voice rang through the hall and she fell in step beside Aemond, head held high.
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Wylla stepped on her heels again with a half-distracted ‘sorry’ that Abby waved off, again. King’s Landing was bursting with activity that threatened to rival the crowds that were sure to arrive in the next moon for Aegon’s nameday tournament. The festival was to go on for a fortnight at least, as apprentices across the guilds presented their masterpieces to be judged and reviewed. It meant that the stalls were filled to bursting and more had sprung up in every nook and cranny and side street of the city. From finely woven fabrics and dyes, to ropes and carefully crafted saddles, the market was bright and loud with the calls of commerce.
Aegon’s right hand gripped her left, fingers entwined, and kept her between him and the stalls rather than risk losing one another in the stream of traffic down the center lane. They paused in front of a smith, the heat of the forge not as uncomfortable in the heat of the city for the breeze that kicked through.
“Oh, he’s a handsome one,” Wylla murmured, and Abby followed her gaze to the handsome smith covered in sweat and black soot, his linen shirt soaked, his arms bulging with the effort of hammering. Abby giggled softly, humming in agreement. She glanced at Aegon, who was perusing over the line of daggers on display, and noticed his own gaze flicking towards the blacksmith with clear appreciation.
Abby hummed and leaned over to brush her mouth against his ear. “Do you think he’s prettier than me?” she whispered.
Aegon didn’t glance at her, he didn’t even pause in his dual inspection of the merchandise nor the man before him. His tongue darted out, pink and wet, to slide along his lower lip in thought as he reached for another dagger. “I think he’s taller than you, which has its own advantages, especially with those shoulders,” he told her softly, tapping the hilt of the dagger. “Open, I want to see if it fits you.” She held out her free hand - she still hadn’t let go of his and he had not let go of hers - and he pressed the dagger into her palm, instructing her to wrap her fingers around it. “Sometimes one needs a good handling.”
Abby’s gaze flicked up at him, Aegon’s lilac eyes fixed on adjusting her grip. “I don’t usually hold a dagger like this. Aemond did teach me properly. Also, are you implying that I couldn’t give you a good handling?”
“I don’t think you are big enough to pick me up over your shoulder and slam me down on something.” Aegon’s lilac gaze met hers from beneath the soft bits of silver hair hanging in his eyes and he pulled the dagger from her grasp and set it back down. Even as she blushed, Abby didn’t look away. She smiled prettily at him instead and was pleased when he grinned back. She liked this side of him. No, she adored this side of him. The way he flirted, and held onto her, and the way it felt as easy as breathing between them like it always had. Only now, her gaze was more obviously drawn to that infernal tongue of his that kept swiping along his lower lip.
He was doing it on purpose. She was sure of it.
“I feel like you’re challenging me, Your Grace. Must I also now throw myself in the training yard and hope that I grow as big and strong as my brother? I think you’ll be sorely disappointed.” Aegon snorted and picked up another dagger. This one had an ebony handle carved with grooves for the fingers to fit and a thick silver inlay that encircled it and along the guard. “I don’t need a dagger,” she protested when he had her hold it and frowned at the fit.
“You see,” he murmured, releasing his hold on her hand and having her properly adjust her grip. “I already know you can handle me, my Lady. I think you’re a natural at it, even small as you are. But if you’d like to be handled, be exposed to new ways of doing things…new techniques…” He trailed off and made an approving sound at how she was holding the weapon. Somehow it made her flush all the more. “I’m at your service to give you whatever demonstration you desire.”
He met her eyes then, mouth twitched in a slight grin, but she saw the nervous look in his gaze.
Abby pushed up on her toes to press a kiss on his smirking mouth and drew away before either of them had a chance to deepen it. “I’ve been told I’m a very astute learner, and I always like to learn new things, especially with demonstrations.” Flushed, she reached for Wylla who was still admiring the blacksmith and took her hand. “We’re going to look at the fabrics over here.”
She’d much rather they do that than make a scene in front of the attractive blacksmith.
“If you two wanted privacy, then we’ll find it. I’ll stand guard outside the carriage door. Or, he’s the prince, I’m sure he can just get a room somewhere.” Wylla’s look was innocent and compassionate when Abby looked over her shoulder to glare at her, cheeks flushed red. “You know, people like us don’t marry for love often, but if you have that with one another, there’s no shame in being so affectionate before marriage.” Wylla nudged her shoulder against hers while they plucked at the delicate spools of ribbons and carefully embroidered lace.
“Being accosted in front of the blacksmith is something I’d hardly call simple affection,” Abby said.
“Weren’t you only just complaining that he didn’t accost you?”
“I need to find another word for that, and yes, I know I was! That’s not what I mean.” Abby ran a length of silky, vibrant green ribbon through her fingers, and tried to find shades of red and blue to match. “I just mean there’s a difference between doing it in public! And…”
“And?” Wylla prompted, plucking up a spool of black linen thread in hand.
“And I simply get very flustered. That’s all.” She reached into her the small purse hanging off her arm to retrieve the delicate fabric samples the seamstress had brought the previous week. “I need embellishments to go with this.”
“Oh,” Wylla breathed and ran her fingers gently over the ivory satin. “Abby, these are lovely.”
“Do you think so?” She held the pieces up to the spools of lace. “I’m half tempted to simply make my own lace but that feels so extravagant and excessive.”
Wylla clucked her tongue. “Must I remind you again, Lady Strong, that you are marrying Aegon Targaryen, Prince of the Realm? You will become a princess on your wedding day. You should have extravagance and excess because if you don’t have it for that occasion, what occasion will you allow it?” Her voice was not quiet and Abby noticed the pair of girls managing the stall perk up from where they were attending to another lady and her daughter at the mention of marrying Aegon Targaryen. The other customers looked at her as well, and Abby smiled politely back and resumed her perusal of the lace embellishments. She let her veil fall forward enough to hide some of her face, uncomfortable with the attention now that Aegon was not distracting her, moving easily through the crowds as if he were born for it.
That’s because he was born for it, she reminded herself.
“These look a bit like dragon scales, don’t they?” Abby ran her thumb gently over the uniquely shaped scallops of soft lace, mind thinking of decorations and embellishments and appliques for the gown that they were making. So many Myrish knots to embroider. She knew there was more fabric on its way, and that the delicate and sought after Myrish lace would be beyond comparison but presented with what was before her, Abby’s mind turned in contemplation. “Excuse me, my lady.”
The woman did not appear much older than Wylla, with a shock of golden curls peeking out of her little white cap. She was the younger of the pair who were manning the booth, and she bobbed awkwardly behind the counter.
“I am no lady, milady,” she said, her accent a proud, Westerlands clip. “Neva, if you please. Is there anything that you like before you? This isn’t everything we have but-”
Abby smiled, raising a hand to slow the girl down. “Neva, is this all your work? It’s absolutely beautiful.”
She glowed as bright as her hair, nodding exuberantly. “It is, milady! I’ve been an apprentice for nigh on ten years. I’ve submitted my masterpiece for guild acceptance.”
She couldn’t help but keep smiling back at the excitement Neva shared and gestured for the threads that Wylla was picking up. “Well, I’ll take these, if you’d be so kind, as well as… well I don’t want to take the whole spool of this.” Abby pursed her lips.
In the pause, Neva continued. “I can also make custom pieces, should you need something particular, milady.” The girl blushed but pushed on. “I did hear you mentioning a wedding, but I wasn’t dropping eaves! So if there is something in particular you’re looking for.”
Abby hummed softly, fingers still holding the delicate spool of scalloped lace edging. “I would like that very much. If you have more samples, I want you to bring them to the castle a sennight from today. The seamstress is coming back to do a fitting and I would like to look at what we can make. Is that too soon?”
The blushing cheeks of the Westerland girl went pale before flushing even deeper and she looked as if she was about to burst like a Dornish fire flare right there in the street. “Milady, I don’t know what to say! Yes, yes I will certainly be there. Thank you…” She trailed off suddenly, eyes widening before dropping into a curtsy, followed by the other women behind the booth. Abby felt Aegon brush against her back as he leaned over her shoulder to pluck at the lace.
“Pretty,” he said. “Do you like them?”
She nodded. “I thought the-they would look nice for my wedding dress. Do you like them? I want you to like them.” Abby tilted her head to look at him, teeth catching at her lip while Aegon’s cheeks flushed lightly pink.
“Aye, I like them.” His voice was soft and he gestured to the lot, almost negligently. “And the ribbons? We’ll take it.” Aegon spared a look at the gaping Neva, plucking the bag of gold from Wylla’s hands and tossing it to the girl.
Abby blushed, glancing between the gaping girls and Aegon, who was already looking around. “Thank you, Neva,” she said, which seemed to pull the other girl from her shock and start plucking items. “I do hope this isn’t all of your hard work.”
“Oh, no, not at all, milady.” She was positively glowing. “Good fortune to be sure."
[Chapter Eight]
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