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moon-huny · 8 months

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Stole the Moon - Chapter One

CW: My content is not for anyone under 18. Mostly suggestive flirting and mentions of kidnapping and imprisonment. Reader character has sustained head injury. Oh, you also get choked. Buggy is an a-hole, but that's why we all love him.

Word Count: 2K

Summary: You've been kidnapped and can't remember a thing. Good news! Ole Captain Buggy is here to make you feel more like yourself.

A/N: Alright this is my first ever fan fiction to grace the website we all know and love. I originally wanted to be a fic writer when I joined tumblr, and now, my time has finally come. This Buggy is very much based off of OPLA, since I never actually got into the anime until recently. Tying to keep him in character, but the plot is very much of my own design.

Being new to this, I would love any feedback you might have. Likes, comments and reblogs are welcome, and would make my little heart sing. Okay, that's all, enjoy.

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“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up.”

You woke to his voice. Your eyes slowly opening – or attempted to open – before becoming conscious of a stabbing aching pain racking your skull. You rolled over on your side, cradling your head in your hands and shutting your eyes tight. The soft candle light in the dark of your room eased the pain, but whatever relief you found was immediately wiped out by the shrill sound of him speaking.

“Ya know, I thought they killed you.” You could hear his heavy steps pacing the room, the sound too loud, his voice too harsh. He spoke with such levity, a certain air of nonchalance in his tone. He thought this was funny.

“I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy getting you aboard my ship,” he paused, grabbing a chair and dragging it across the floor. A high pitched sound emitting from wood scraping wood – a sound he made on purpose just to cause more pain. You winced.

“But I didn’t think my crew hurt you this badly.” A tone of mock concern fell from his lips. “You must have put up a real knock out fight.”

He sat across from you. Spreading his legs and leaning over to get closer. Your body was curled up on a poorly made and uncomfortable plank of wood some might dare to call a bed. The “blankets” around you were nothing more than used burlap and tattered bits of sail.

He got quiet, you heard the ocean and people stomping and shouting above you. Then, so quietly, just above a whisper, “I don’t usually keep damaged goods, but you’re much better off lying here than wreaking havoc on my ship.”

It took all your strength to peel open your eyes and pull your hands away from your head. Breathing heavily, you pushed yourself upright. The clench in your jaw both from the pain you were in and the anger you felt.

Through your blurry vision, you could just barely make out a red nose. His eyes were piercing green, like the ocean after a storm. The clown makeup, the bright blue hair, you’d seen his wanted poster before.

Buggy the Clown – wanted for 15,000,000 Berry.

“I’ll burn this whole ship down,” you said. “I’ll sink it to the bottom of the East Blue.”

Your threat came out much weaker than you intended. You were fighting nausea and an intense dizziness you were struggling to keep under control. It seems the clown caught on. He gently pushed his palm into your forehead with a flourish causing you to fall back down onto the bed gripping either side of your head in your hands.

“Aw see,” he said, standing to lean over your body. “That’s why you’re gonna stay right here,” he said, punctuating the last two words.

He made his way to the exit and grabbed the barred door. He pulled it shut with a loud clatter. You felt the metal sound resonate in your skull causing you to push your palms into your eyes.

“Night night, doll! We’ll chat some more tomorrow.” A loud cackling laugh resounded down the hallway. It made you want to scream.

///

And so, he came back to torture you everyday. Never brought you food or water, instead opting to send random crew members each visit. He didn’t want you making any friends. The only constant was one meal at night and a prompt visit from him following. He never said much, and if he did, you could hardly recall what you spoke about.

You started feeling better. You were able to get up, start walking around your prison. You clocked that you’d been at sea only four days. One porthole you could see out of – if you climbed some precarious boxes – told you you were in the middle of nowhere. Far away from any visible land.

The sun was setting, the sky turning a gorgeous orange color and the ocean turning pink in return. His boots thumped down the stairs, you could hear him shouting up towards the deck, “Hey, shit for brains, if I didn’t make myself clear earlier, I want to be docked in that harbor YESTERDAY! GET. A. MOVE ON!”

Wherever this circus boat was headed, it was moving fast, but clearly not fast enough. What was the hurry? What was the clown’s goal? And with so little in the cargo hold … It wasn’t like he had a huge haul. Were we being followed by another ship? You didn’t ever see anyone from your tiny window, and the conversations above were so muffled that gathering any kind of intelligence was near impossible.

“HONEY, I’M HOME!”

You ran from your porthole back onto the bed, pulling the blankets up around you. You did your best to slow your breathing and pretend you were asleep.

“Oh sweets,” he sighed, draping himself through the bars. “I know you’re awake.”

The smile you knew he had on, the sickeningly sweet way he spoke to you, it made you angry. You heard the door unlock and slowly swing open.

You were feeling stronger. Though the ship was in the middle of nowhere, if you could just surprise him, lock him up long enough to get to a lifeboat. You could get away.

“Doll, enough games, okay? It's only fun when I want to play, and I really don’t feel like playing with my toys right now.”

He got closer, close enough you decided. You sprang from the bed making a move to pull any number of the knives from his belt. As you grabbed for his waist, you felt a gloved hand wrap itself around your throat and push you against the wall.

“Oh ho ho, you have GOT to be KIDDING.” He laughed hysterically. “I mean wow, honey, I knew you were bold but I didn’t take you for an idiot,” he spat the last insult inches from your face tightening his grip. Your hands flew up to his wrist attempting to loosen the strangling grip he had on you.

His body pressed to yours, his knee slotting itself in the space between your legs. You were fully pinned, unable to move with the full weight of the pirate against you.

That’s when you heard the long knife unsheathe itself from his belt. The sharp metal pushing into your side. Your eyes, once full of defiance, widened to reflect the fear you felt. Your eyebrows pressing together in a pleading look as your lungs burned, the need for air growing stronger.

“Mhmm, I knew I’d like that face on you,” he whispered. “You gonna be a good girl if I let you go?” You nodded slowly, then felt the knife push impossibly further to the flesh of your hip. The nod quickened, your eyes clamping shut, preparing for the worst.

Then, he let you drop. Your hands flying to your throat, bruising surely setting in, as you gasped for air.

“I told you, doll, not in the mood to play,” he said, sheathing the weapon. “I have something I need from you.”

He nodded in the direction of the small table and stools. You hesitantly pulled yourself upright, sharpened gaze never once leaving his larger figure. You were like a mouse in a cage with a snake – look away and you might be his next meal.

You sat across one another as he pulled a map from his coat. His large gloved hands smoothed the cotton-soft paper out in front of you. The candlelight flickered over the page, the night finally setting in, the air growing colder.

The thin slip-like dress you wore did barely enough to retain your modesty. You pulled your arms across your chest, staving off the cold and attempting to cover your chest. Sitting there with him eyeing you across the table, you became more aware of your body and the night air prickling your skin. If he was attracted to your shape, he didn’t show it.

“You know what this is?” he asked.

“A map,” you replied flatly.

He laughed. “Funny, sweetheart. Yeah, your captain knows it’s – .”

“YOU are NOT my captain,” you spat back before he could even finish his sentence.

The smile spread further across his face, “If you aren’t joining my crew then you'll stay my prisoner.”

“Is that what this is about, you want me to join your band of seafaring freaks?” You were picking a fight you knew you couldn’t win. He knew it too.

“I think I made myself very clear but, if you need a little extra explaining, I don’t mind. You did hit that pretty head very hard a few weeks ago.”

“Weeks?” You did your best to keep your voice even as panic began to settle in your chest.

“Your…” it took a moment for him to find the right words, “temperament was difficult to say the least. If I thought getting you on board was hard, oh boy! Talk about keeping you quiet! But, it wasn’t anything a little sleeping powder couldn’t fix.”

He’s cocky, he knew springing this information on you would leave you feeling confused and uncertain. Was every move he made this calculated?

“We all got used to how quiet you were, so much … easier to watch.” His eyes traced up and down your frame. You got your answer, that remark was calculated and so was his decision to finally regard your attire.

He was stronger, he had more weapons at his disposal. The clown capitan knew he could say whatever he wanted, and there was hardly anything you could do about it. But that didn’t stop you from opening your mouth.

“What do you want with me and why the hell am I on your ship?”

All he could do was smile and chuckle in return, “That’s so funny, beautiful, truly. You are so much more entertaining when you're conscious. But, I’m going to need you to stop playing dumb, okay? It’s really starting to piss me off.”

His eyes were getting darker, his words sharpening. You were really starting to wish you knew what he was talking about but, god help you, you had no clue. You couldn’t remember how you got here, and now that you started racking your brain for answers, you realized you couldn’t remember anything about yourself.

Your name? Yes. You knew that. Family? Nothing. Village? A small seaside town, but the details were fuzzy. Who were you before this? You didn’t even know how long you were at sea and now you can’t even remember the basics.

The confusion in your mind began to make itself plain on your face.

“Oh no,” his tone began to change, the grin dropping from his face. “No no no no no -- you really don’t know do you?”

You looked up and saw his expression contorted between realization and anger. “SHIT! No! Gah! This was not supposed to happen this way! God fucking DAMN IT!”

He pushed himself up from the table with a fury, and something you’d never seen him carry before, frustration. Up until now, the blue haired man had acted with such a confident air, but now, it seemed like everything was falling apart. You made no move to speak, just watched as he paced the room spitting various curses into the empty space.

Then he finally turned to you, slowly on his heels. “No, you know what, this is fine.” He smiled, collecting himself. “All of this is just fine.” He began to stalk toward you.

“You’re here, on my ship, and that is alllllll that matters right now.” He placed both hands down on the table in front of you, leaning over the map and getting dangerously close to your face.

“We will just have to work through this little hiccup together. Huh? What do you say?”

“You can go to hell. I don’t know anything about this map, or what you need from me. Any information you're looking for is gone because your moronic sideshow and its excessive force scrambled any memories I had,” you spat.

“Okay gorgeous,” his emerald eyes not breaking contact with your (e/c). “Suit yourself.”

His tactics weren’t working, he knew it. It was time to change the game. Play from a different angle. You didn’t remember who you were, what you were, he’d help you remember, and maybe add a few memories into the mix. The mind was a fragile place, its chemistry could be changed so easily. Enough of the fear and frustration, it’s always easier to attract flies with honey than with vinegar.

#buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy opla #buggy the clown #captain buggy #buggy X y/n #buggy fanfic #op buggy #buggy d clown #one piece buggy #buggy one piece #buggy smut #stole the moon

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gaysindistress · 1 year

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Sad girl - fifteen

summary: James has an interesting new business proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, Bucky’s smartass, the feelings, Walker has decided that he wants to be Joe Goldberg, blood

word count: 2.5k

a/n: I’m evil and I’m not at all sorry.

part 14 | series masterlist

Taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident @spencerreidisagorgman @goldensunflowe-r @i-have-no-life-charlie @esposadomd @iateall-yourcookies @alana4610 @kandis-mom @beware-my-thorns @ozwriterchick @littlelizardlizzie @unaxv @reader-without-a-story @wh0reforbucknasty @cjand10 @katymae12344 @vickie5446

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Ping.

The sound of her phone going off three times in a row is enough to make her want to throw it across the room. Having gotten back late from the party and being exhausted due to prior activities, the sound of her phone is the last thing she wanted to hear. The man next to her is fast asleep, not even budging when she shifts her weight to grab the iridescent rectangle on the side table. The overwhelming brightness of it doesn’t allow her to see the sender until she’s already unlocked it and looking at the horrifying pictures.

The first photo contained her mother shopping in a grocery store, the boundaries of the photo blurred as if taken from behind something. The second photo is her mother getting into a black Range Rover from the same angle but the third is the most terrifying; her mother lying asleep in a bed. As she stared at the photos, another message came through, one that read:

“You’re both mine.”

“Bucky, Bucky,” she says quietly as she reaches behind her to shake him awake.

“Bucky, wake up, wake up,” her voice is starting to tremble as she shakes him even more, growing desperate.

Groaning as he pushes onto his forearms, “what is it?” “It’s my mom, he’s going to hurt her. Oh my god, we have to get her out.”

The sound of her cries and pleading raises him fully from his sleep. He takes the phone from her hand to look at the messages himself while hauling her into him as she sobs. These types of photos are ones that he sees often himself but is usually in the context of his next mission. Seeing them on the phone of the woman he promised to protect and care for stung differently and he began to feel the hot bubble of anger grow in him.

“Doll, I’ll see what I can do to protect her.”

“You have to get her out,” she pleads to him as she pushes against him.

“Doll,” his fingers brush the hair from her forehead, “I’ll see what Steve can do but I can’t promise anything. We already know John is a loose cannon and I don’t want to push him too far. He’ll come after you again and I can’t have that.”

“Again? Because you’ve done so much to keep me safe since then. You haven’t done anything. You’ve even fucking left me alone while you galavant around like a toy with your puppet masters, the senators. If you really wanted to protect me then you would’ve killed him that day!”

“Hey, hey, these things take time,” his hand slides to grasp the back of her neck, “I’m doing everything I can to make sure he can’t get to you, and going after your mom will only push him closer to you.”

She swats at him, creating a gap between the two of them. Betrayal is written all across her face as she stares at him.

“So you’re willing to let her get hurt? You’re willing to let my mother stay with a man who already threatened to kill me for what? Because you’re too much of a coward to do anything about it?”

“That’s not what I said and you know that. My job is protect you and only you. Your mother isn’t included in that but I will do what I can within my means,” his anger has taken over his form, turning the concern he had moments again into a hardened and cold stare.

She didn’t respond, only scoffing at him before turning over on the bed so she didn’t have to face him or his unwillingness to help. The bed shifts as he gets up and leaves the room, her quiet sobs and sniffles are the only evidence that she’s listening to him walk away.

_______________________________________________

Voices filter into the cold room as she stirs awake.

“Do we know how he got to Marianne?” Bucky’s voice asks.

“From what I can tell, he found her after she showed up at Anthony’s,” Steve’s voice answers back.

“Any indication that she’s there against her will?”

She can’t hear an answer but she can only assume that Steve is shaking his head no.

“Goddamnit,” she can imagine Bucky rubbing his hand down his face in frustration, “We can’t go in. It’s not safe for her if we do it and her safety is my main concern here.”

“She’s not going to like that answer. You’re going to have to figure out a way to get to Marianne.”

“Let me just call her real quick,” the sarcasm drips from his voice as he tries to not take his anger out on his friend.

“Don’t shoot the messenger. I can only tell you the circumstances but you’re more than welcome to go in if that’s what you think is best.”

Bucky goes to make a smart-ass comment back but the sound of the bedroom door opening pauses them both and they wait with bated breath to see if she will emerge. She does clad in her trusty college sweatshirt and running shorts, however, she ignores Bucky when she joins the men in the living room, sitting on the couch next to Steve. He offers her a good morning as she buries herself in the corner and sends a muffled ‘morning’ back.

“How’d you sleep?” Bucky asks, hoping that the simple question will be seen as a peace offering.

“Fantastic. I wasn’t at all worried about my mother’s safety considering she’s with an absolutely psychopath. And when I finally did fall asleep, I was woken up two assholes who started talking really loud.”

The men grimace at her response and give her half-hearted apologies for waking her up. The couch moves as Steve stands up, bidding them both a ‘see you guys in New York’ as he disappears into his own room. Bucky moves from his chair to take Steve’s place next to her.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that your hands are tied but that doesn’t mean I’m not mad anymore.”

A gentle hand rests on her hip, “I know. I’ll see what Sam can find out. I might be able to get you a way to talk to her but that’s not a guarantee.”

“At this point, I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“I want that too. The good news is that Steve made it seem like she’s not being hurt.”

She moves from the corner to lay on his shoulder, arms going around his middle in a side hug, “She’s just being stalked by a wannabe Joe Goldberg.”

“That is very true,” he laughs slightly, his own arms hugging her closer.

A few minutes of silence pass before she speaks again, “I’m sorry for what I said last night. The whole situation is shitty but it’s not your fault and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. ”

“Doll, everything you said was justified. Marianne is not exactly safe and I don’t have a way of getting to her without putting you in jeopardy. You don’t have to apologize either. If anyone is going to, it’s me. I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do and it’s terrifying to not know how this is all going to play out.”

He feels her nod against his side and grips him tighter.

“Do you think it’s safe for me to have my own room anymore?”

“Are you asking if we should share a room?” his heart begins to hammer against his chest as he awaits her response.

“I mean if John has access to Stark Towers and my mom, it wouldn’t be a stretch to suggest that he could get to me at our house. Wouldn’t it be safer if we shared a bedroom so that I’m not alone if he does try something?”

“He won’t be able to get that close but if it would make you feel safer, we can move you into my room.”

“Yeah I think that would make we feel better,” her own heart wanting to pound right out of her chest.

“We can do that then,” he kisses the top of her head as they settle back into silence and into each other.

_______________________________________________

“How many books do you have?” Steve is panting from carrying the millionth box of books from her room to Bucky’s.

“You have a damn library here,” Sam is the next one to come into the room with another book box.

“I like to read, so what?” She says, shrugging her shoulders and going back to putting the books on the shelf Bucky had installed.

The moment they had landed back in New York, he’d invited everyone over under the guise of dinner but it was really to help move her into his room. Of course, there would be food afterward but that didn’t stop the men from complaining about the task at hand. He’d also been quick to have shelves installed for her books rather than putting them in his office.

“It’ll make it feel more like our room,” was his reasoning.

It did make the room feel more shared and comfortable than her previous room. She really hadn’t brought that much from her father’s house. A few pictures, her library as Sam put it, and mostly her clothes which were now taking over his massive walk-in closet. That was a feat in itself considering the number of suits, shoes, and gear he had. Regardless he welcomed all of the changes, content that she had decided that she wanted to share a room and start an actual relationship.

“Yeah, but who reads this many books?” Sam had her favorite book, Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo, in his hand as he questioned her.

“Someone smart and well-read,” Bucky answers for her, taking the book back and kissing Doll.

Steve and Sam both roll their eyes as they head back to her room to make sure it’s clear.

“Finally admitting I’m smarter than you?”

“There was never doubt about that,” he says as he hands her more books to put away.

She hums in agreement and takes the books from him.

“Hey Buck, Vance just sent a file,,” Steve calls from the door as he and Sam head to the office.

Bucky gives her an apologetic look as he kisses her forehead, “I promise to help after.”

“No, you won’t.”

He laughs as he’s heading out the door, “it’s the thought that counts.”

_______________________________________________

Being left alone allowed her to put on her own music and continue to put away her belongings. The obvious choice is Lana Del Rey so that’s what is playing in the room a few hours after the boys had left. When Bucky finished his meeting, he finds her sitting on the bed reading a book and hunched over in a position that’ll definitely lead her to have a sore back.

“What book did you pick?” the sudden sound of his voice startles her as he leans against the door frame.

“Oh um,” she turns the book over to look at the cover, “Our Violent Ends by Chloe Gong. It’s the sequel to the book I was reading when I moved in.”

“Hmm I see, what’s it about?”

“It’s a retelling of Romeo and Juliet but in the 1920s Shanghai and the families are rival gangs.”

“Really?” he laughs as he approaches the bed.

“Don’t laugh. It’s a good book!”

He drops onto the bed next to her, “I’m not laughing at the book, I’m laughing at how ironic it is that you’re reading about mobs.”

Leaning over the side, she puts her book on the nightstand as she says, “I know, I know. Don’t I get enough in real life? But this is different; it’s a love story.”

“And this isn't?” He waves a hand around to gesture at their situation.

“That would require us to be in love,” teasing him, she comes shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Who says we’re not?”

“Who says we are? Neither of us have said those three words.”

“Just because we haven’t said it doesn’t mean it’s not true,” his hand takes a hold of her thigh, drawing her focus to that sight.

“What are you trying to say?” She places her hand on top of his and looks over at him.

He flips his hand over to hold hers, “What do you want me to say?”

She looks at him blankly, trying to find the words or anything at all to answer his question. Deep down she knows what she wants him to say but she can’t tell him that. Their struggle for control and power stalls her heart and refuses to let her give in first. Saying it first would be submission and she can’t do that. With their marriage being arranged, everything that comes with it feels stiff and arranged as well. They had no choice but to go into this and now they struggle to regain any morsel of control over their life. However no matter how controlled their marriage may be, this moment has to come naturally. There cannot be a power struggle, a fight to stay on top; this moment has to come when they’re equals.

He takes a deep breath and changes the subject, “I hate to ruin the moment but I have a new mission that starts tomorrow. It’s supposed to be pretty simple, quick in and out so the boys and I should be back in a couple of days.”

“Oh,” is the only thing that comes to her mind as she rubs her thumb over the back of his hand.

“I know we just got back yesterday but I promise I’ll make up to you.”

“Dinner,” the confused look on his face causes her to giggle and her mood to lighten, “You owe me dinner.”

“I can do that. Dinner at the finest restaurant, just you and me, I promise,” he kisses her cheek as he lets go of her hand and heads to the closet to start packing.

______________________________________________

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the string of curses leaves Sam’s mouth as he races over to Steve who is kneeling beside Bucky’s stilling body.

“Fuck! Where the fuck is the first aid kit?” Sam is moving as fast as he can as he dumps his backpack on the ground and throws the contents aside to find the kit in question.

The blood from Bucky’s left side is pooling around them, streaming from his ripped shirt as Steve puts as much pressure as he can on the wound. The world is spinning and closing in on Bucky from the loss of blood and pain, his skin paling and chest moving in shallow motions.

“Sam hurry the fuck up!” the shouts from Steve are distorted as Sam finally finds the first aid kit and rips it open. The clatter of various medical tools and supplies is softened by the grass and the wet blood.

“Buck, hey Bucky, how are you feeling?” Sam is tapping the side of his face to regain his attention but it’s lost on the man. Through his lashes, he can see his two friends but can barely hear them or feel the pressure and pain radiating from his left side.

“No no no no fuck! Bucky come on man! Come on stay with us! Shit,” are the last words he hears before it all goes black.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #mob au #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky barnes x reader #sad girl - bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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erikiara80 · 10 months

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Theory: Jancy’s first lie scene is also about Jopper and the curse

I was rewatching Murray scenes in S2 and S3 and I noticed something in this one I never did before. This could be a big evidence that young Jopper, or at least Hop, are really cursed and that they probably were together in the og timeline.

I talk about the possible hints that they were married and are Will and El’s parents here

So, I think the first parallel/connection is when Nancy and Jon mention the theory that El is russian (later they also drink vodka)

This is foreshadowing of Jopper’s storyline in S4, not Jancy’s. Hopper is in Russia, Joyce gets a doll from him but Murray suspects it might be pregnant with an explosive device. Something Owens compares El to a few episodes later. And interestingly the doll is actually “pregnant” with the message that Hopper is alive.

Then the first lie scene. If the vodka and the mention of Russia are foreshadowing of Jopper’s storyline in S4, this could be about their past

After Nancy and Jon say that they're just friends, Murray laughs. "You told me a lot of shockers today but that... that is the first lie.”

That reminded me of the First Shadow. In my defence, I couldn’t make the connection before they announced the prequel, lol.

And @chirpsythismorning noticed something very interesting. The song that plays when Hopper is stuck in the tunnels in S2 is Shadow in the tunnel. That doesn’t mean that he is the shadow, but that he is associated with it.

Nancy insists: "It's not a lie." Murray: "No? You're young, attractive, you've got chemistry, history. Plus, the real shit. Shared trauma." This could be about young Jopper too. Because we know that something bad happened way before 1983. In 1959, the year Hopper said he started to feel cursed.

Murray continues and tells Jon (our Hopper here): "Trust issues, am I right? Something to do with your dad."

"No, I mean, my dad is..."

Nancy: "An asshole." This is about Lonnie, but it could also be about Hopper's father, who thought his son was a piece of shit.

@shippingfangirl013 I have to quote you here: And the “my dad is…” “An asshole” Paired with the “well they must have gotten married for some reason” in S1. “I wasn’t around for that part” = Jonathan’s parents being in love.

Yep.

And then Murray mentions a curse: “It's a curse to see so clearly."

First lie, First Shadow, and a curse...

Hopper is the only character who’s been saying since S1 that he feels like he’s cursed. In S4 he even says that HE is the curse. And Jo pointed out that episode 4x02, Vecna’s curse, starts with Hopper apparently dying, only to reveal that he’s actually alive. Hm, stuck in a loop, maybe? I’m working on a post about Hopper and the curse, but I’ll just say that after he wakes up in 4x02, we see Max wake up too, from a Vecna nightmare, we see the poster of The Endless Summer and hear the clock-bike sound effect. Here the video.

But back to Murray and the first lie. It’s Nancy’s turn. Murray tells her that she wants safety (like Joyce)

Then another big parallel with Jopper. The We like Steve (Bob) But we don’t love Steve (Bob)

Murray calls Nancy out. Saying that she loves Steve (Bob) is the second lie of the evening (and so is Joyce not being with Jim, the man she loves)

As Kayla says: Safety = Bob = MK Ultra manipulation, because of the flashbacks she has in S3 after being around Hopper.

Then THIS poster. It never made much sense to me when I thought about Jancy. But it makes a lot of sense if the scene is not just about them, but a parallel with Jopper and Hopper, the cursed one.

Here another parallel. Murray tells Nancy and Jon to have sex. The same thing he tells Joyce and Hopper in S3.

(red and yellow here, El and Will’s colors)

And I think this is important. That night Nancy and Jonathan GET together, and we don’t see the poster when they kiss, because they're not the ones that are cursed. Hopper and Joyce Maldonado are. The part with Murray is the parallel with Jopper’s past. Someone has been watching them for a very long time.

Note: The poster is a Big Brother poster. Brother, The lost brother, the original title of The Lost sister, an episode with tons of references to One and the lab (here, here and here)

Kayla also made another great connection with the song at the end of S2, Every breath you take. Maybe it’s not just about Will or El. It’s about their family. They’re all there. Will, El, Jonathan, Hopper and Joyce.

And the last words we hear before the last shot, the Mind Flayer looming over the school: Oh don’t you see? You belong to me

(Water is always involved too, right? Sorry, just wanted to point it out)

So, in conclusion I think that this Jancy scene is Jopper coded and maybe it tells us what happened to them.

The question is: why is Hopper cursed? Were he and the others there, Joyce, Bob, maybe Scott Clarke, when the exorcism happened and something went wrong? Or maybe they stopped Betty, who wanted to help Henry, because they wanted to protect her (if she's really Bob's sister it makes sense) But without her help, something horrible happened. Or maybe something bad happened to her.

I feel like Hopper did something that changed everything. Maybe he thought he was doing the right thing but he was wrong and made things worse. We’ll see!

Anyway, I really like this theory. Tagging you too @lilitblaukatz

#jancy #jopper #willel twins #willel #st prequel #the first shadow #st vecna #joyce byers #jim hopper #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #st parallels #st theory #stranger things

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intrepidacious · 10 months

Text

time after time: reread edition [1]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 6.0k

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, accidentally starting a time loop, banter, pretty angsty to start us off with ngl, reminder to read the fic premise. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

read the full chapter here | series masterlist | reread masterlist

wouldn't you know it, it's friday already!! this is a reread of already published chapters, so if you're new to this story, i would highly suggest not starting here and reading the actual story first. please be aware that by clicking the read more you're gonna see spoilers for chapter one 💚

how it started

welcome to the reread. i'm pretty sure this is the part of the post i'll only do once, but we'll see how it goes.

i swear to god, i only wanted to write a fun little time loop fic. it was never supposed to be this huge thing; it just kept growing. it's two years later now and i'm still writing—granted, that's after taking several long breaks because this story gives me headaches like no other, but still. i've never poured this much love into one story, i think.

and we can all blame russian doll for it.

turn back the clock – tl;dr

we start with a mission. sam, bucky and the reader, soon-to-be nicknamed twelve, are checking up on a secret lab. against all odds, bucky gets killed right before the fight seems to be won. twelve uses her time powers to prevent this from happening, loses consciousness and wakes up in her bed earlier that day. she goes through the entire day again, thinking her reset worked as intended, only for bucky to die in a different situation during the same mission and her waking up in her bed again.

behind the loop

welcome to my first running commentary on my own story. you’re gonna be sick of me really soon.

depending on how new you are to this story, you might not know that the chapter titles are all taken from movies. sadly i haven't seen most of them but the ones i have seen do feature a little in one way or another. more about that when we get to that point, though. the title cards for this story were also so fun to make because i just recoloured the actual movie posters!!

i’m gonna be honest with you, i keep forgetting that this first flashback exists. but i lowkey love it?? i like how it sets the tone for the angst that’s stitched into the very fabric of this story while simultaneously being juxtaposed with the first actual, very blunt introduction of our main cast.

the start of that mission was one of the first things i ever wrote for this fic, but the whole transition from the upstairs lab to downstairs and the actual fight scene were the last parts before posting.

“Do you think I’d pass up the opportunity to hear the two of you scream in terror when the vampire puppets creep up on you?” “Gotta disappoint you, cap,” you grin and wait for him to check the map. “I only scream when there’s good reason.” “I don’t wanna interrupt,” Bucky interrupts over the intercom, “but they’re heading your way now, so get a move on.”

writing banter is one of my all-time favourite activities. i also already knew at this point that i was gonna write a lot of it over and over again, and so i needed to vary the interjections in order to not bore everyone to bits. i like to think it worked out, but you tell me.

my beloved nightmare flashmob was such a fun antagonist to include. they will be named in the next chapter but if there are comic readers among you, i feel like i have to apologise because i definitely haven’t read enough of them to properly do these guys justice. they did seem like a logical step up from the version of the flag smasher(s) we encountered in tfatws, though. plus, there’s just enough of them to be a realistic threat to three very capable superheroes.

And then his eyes glaze over. You scream.

i’m so evil lmao

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

spoiler alert, you’ll encounter that sentence a couple of times. and i still love it. fun fact, i genuinely set my playlist to shuffle to decide on the song that was going to play to wake her up, and this was the one i landed on. and i couldn’t have come up with a better choice. honestly, look at the lyrics and tell me i’m wrong. i love how things work out sometimes.

originally, the decision to set the story on july 4th was very practical because i needed my available settings to be limited. this isn’t punxsutawney, pennsylvania in the middle of a snowstorm, this is new york city after the blip. i wanted our characters to have at least somewhat limited options what to do during their ever-repeating day. (on a sidenote, do you think we’ll ever see avengers compound again in the mcu? how long are they going to rebuild that thing? anyway.)

“Feels a little … déjà-vu-y.” “I know the type,” Sam says. “Wanna talk about it?” You do. But the time stuff is your problem to deal with, and so you shake your head.

isn’t it great to have a full ensemble of characters who absolutely will not talk about their feelings to each other? (derogatory) is it more interesting from a narrative point of view? … i suppose.

i love twelve’s rings though. are they entirely useless for the duration of this loop? maybe. but i love that she has them to physically show her how stuck she is <3 other things that i love: bucky calling sam bud. it just makes sense.

A surge of emptiness goes through you, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Time seems to still for just the blink of an eye as Bucky’s head is thrown forwards.

and there we have it. ✨dread.✨ this is such an evil way to end a chapter, wow. i had fun, though. was it fun for you?

how it's going

well, actually. i've been writing chapter seven as well as a secret bonus chapter this week, and i've made reasonable progress on both which i'm quite proud of. i really hope i can report that i got started on chapter eight this time next week, but we'll see. i think the worst of my writer's block is gone, at least. and all it took was a little self-indulgence and an external deadline. who'd have thunk.

if you made it to this point of my rambles, thank you. lmk how i can keep these interesting for you to read, and if you have any questions about the story, you know where to find me!! also: please please please consider leaving a comment or a reblog on the actual chapter. it would mean the world 💚

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #time after time

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lostaurorax · 3 years

Text

from three to five?

pairing | stucky x pregnant!reader

summary | reader finds out she’s pregnant and tells the boys but they all get suprised in the end

warnings | pregnancy and indication of smut

a/n | hi my darlings!!!!! i love stucky with all my heart and wrote this bc i thought it would be super cute! i apologize if their are any mistakes about the pregnancy thing and the ultrasound stuff because quite frankly i know absolutely NOTHING about pregnancy except the basic stuff that everyone knows. anyway i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it!! reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated <3 feel free to send in requests!!

the minute you found out you were pregnant you couldn’t wait to tell your husbands knowing how happy they would be from countless amounts of times they told you they had wanted to have kids especially with you.

after a romantic dinner that wanda and nat had thoroughly helped you plan you had come back home to the compound eager for your boys to find out the surprise.

as you walked into the living room wanda and nat were sitting their talking

“ah your back! so how was the date!” wanda said when she noticed your presence

“it was great! we’re gonna call it a night. we’ll see you ladies in the morning.” steve said as he grabbed three water bottles from the fridge and waved to the girls

“good to hear! good night..” nat said winking at you when the boys had turned their backs to them confirming it was all set

“god my feet are killing me!” you said as you took your shoes off and continued walking down the hall to your bedroom

“yeah? change out of that dress and me and stevie will run you a bath alright doll?” bucky said placing his hand on your back as steve was twisting the handle on the door

“okay buck” you said smiling knowing that probably wasn’t going to happen

as steve flicked the light switch on his foot steps came to a halt causing bucky to bump into him

“hey wh-” bucky said before realizing why steve had stopped

their was a bunch of blue and pink balloons scattered around the room, two pregnancies tests lying on the bed with a poster board that said ‘barnes-rogers baby coming soon…’ on it

as the boys turned back to look at you to confirm if what they were seeing was a dream or not it was immediately confirmed when they saw the wide smile on your face

“suprise!!”

after neither of them said anything for a minute or two you turned to walk in front of them

“hey is something wrong?” you said as your mind was racing with scenarios in which they weren’t happy that you were pregnant

as you were about to say something else both boys wrapped their arms around you and you swore you’d never felt more safe

“nothings wrong sweetheart nothing at all. it’s just we’ve dreamed of this day for so long and we can’t believe it’s actually happening.” bucky said as you felt a warm tear hit your face from his

“we love you doll so so much, and we can’t wait to raise a baby with you.”

“yeah?” you said pulling away from the hug to look at them with red noses and tear stained eyes

“yeah” they said in sync just admiring you

it didn’t last long until you were all attacking eachother like hungry animals

the next morning you woke up with two super soldiers on top of you one with his hand on your stomach and one with his hand on your boob

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight

as you tried slipping from beneath them to start to get ready you were stopped when weight was pressed on too you and multiple pleas were heard

“doll where are you going? it’s too early stay in bed” steve said as he nuzzled his head into your neck

“stevie we have to get ready.” you said stroking his hair through your fingers still a knotted mess from last night

“ready for what?”he said as you felt his eyebrows knit against your neck

“i have a ultrasound appointment scheduled for today.” you said knowing that would wake the both of them up

and it did like two children on christmas morning

“i’ve got breakfast!” bucky said as he kissed you on the cheek and slipped on some joggers to exit the room

“i’ll start getting ready.” steve said as he ran to the bathroom leaving you their giddy at the idea of your boys being this excited for your tiny human that wasn’t even born yet. imagining what they’d be like when it was born.

it took about two hours for you all to be ready and out of the house with a few arguments on why you shouldn’t drive and they should you ended up winning because they had no idea where the doctors office you went to was.

after about a 20 minute drive you had arrived at the doctors office checking in you all sat in the waiting room until your name was called. as you watched bucky and steve’s face all you could see was nervousness in their eyes as they looked around at all the pregnant moms and how different they all looked. some were earlier on in their trimester some were at the very end.

“you okay?” you asked them placing a hand on each of their knees

“hm yeah yeah we’re good! doing fine doll.” bucky said steve nodding in agreement

“alright we’ll their about to call my name so i wanna make sure your alright to head in their…” you said with a grin on your face

“we’re fine just a little nervous!”steve said kissing your cheek

after 5 minutes had past of you and the boys talking about baby names and you repeatedly telling them the baby would not be named ‘buckeve’ which was a name they had made up between a combination of their names your name had finally been called

“y/n?”

in usion your heads all turned to the voice and stood up

“it’s nice to see you all! please follow me!” the nurse said

you followed her to the room and listens to the instructions she gave you

“okay so your doctor is with any other patient right now but he should be too much longer so what i’m gonna have you do is sit tight for a few minutes and he’ll come in and set you up okay?”

with a nod of your head and a smile the nurse left telling all you have to enjoy the rest of your day and that she hopes everything goes well.

a knock on the door had halted your conversation with the boys

“come in!” you said

“we’ll hello y/n! how are you doing?” the doctor with the gray hair and winkled face said as he smiled at you

“hi! i’m doing well thank you! these are my husbands james and steve!” you said motioning to the men on the right of you as they waved

“ah well it’s nice to meet you! are you excited to see your baby for the first time?” he said as he started setting up his equipment

“yes very excited! a little nervous though.” steve said placing his hand on the back of your beck a gesture he would do that made you feel protected

“oh well i promise there’s nothing to be nervous about! everything will be just fine. now y/n can you pull your shirt up so i can place this cream on your stomach?” he said

“yeah of course!” you said lifting your shirt

“alright this is gonna be a litte cold just wanna warn you!” he said as he went to place the cream on your stomach

“oh yeah that’s cold!” you said as he placed the cream all over your stomach

“sorry about that! alright let me get this all set up so we can see your baby!” he said grabbing the wand part of the ultrasound machine

as the doctor got the machine working he explained to you what he was gonna be doing so you could somewhat understand what was going on.

“alright let’s see here! welp that’s your baby their on the screen! your very early on so it’s only the size of maybe a pea now but it’ll definitely grow quickly!” he said as tears filled your eyes and the boys both stared at the screen in awe

“hang on a minute..” the doctor said immediately wiping the look of joy on your face and replacing it with worry

“is something wrong sir?” bucky asked concerned

“no no nothings wrong! i just think i might’ve made a miscalculation that’s all.” he said giving any context

“and that miscalculation would be….” you said impatient

“looks like your having twins! congrats!!” he said with a massive smile on his face showing off his perfectly straight and white teeth

“twins??” bucky said in disbelief while you still couldn’t speak in utter shock and feeling like the happiest woman in the world

“oh my god…we’re gonna have twins!!” you said looking back at bucky and steve as the realization hit you.

“i’ll get these printed out and give you guys a bit of privacy. congratulations you three! these kids are so lucky to have you all.” he said as he walked out

you all sat their in shock and pure joy for what seemed to be forever before a noise was finally heard

you turned back to see bucky trying to wipe the tears falling from his eyes

“oh buck c’mere!” you said with open arms

“i’m sorry doll i’m just so happy. i never in my life would’ve thought anything like this would happen to me. this is the happiest day of my life! you both make me so happy! i just love you so much doll so so much.” he said sobbing into your neck

“i love you more bucky. i’m so proud of you.” you said rubbing his back as you mouthed ‘i’m proud of you too stevie’ to steve and he smiled knowing without you even having to tell him

as the day went on all the boys could talk about was your babies. what their names would be,their genders,how you would dress them,what their nursery would look like, just basically anything and everything.

you just admired the pure admiration on the boys faces as they talked about your children and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

#stucky ♡#pregnant!reader x stucky #stucky x pregnant reader #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stucky fluff #stucky smut #stucky angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel masterlist

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ronsonlywhore · 3 years

Text

❛ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿. ❜ remus lupin x reader

summary: you hate the thunder, so remus makes it go away. (or in which remus doesn’t really make it stop, but he holds you until it does.)

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

a/n: a thunderstorm woke me up this morning.. it was like all hell was raining loose, mother nature was not having it today </3 anyways yeah i was scared, that thunder was loud asf

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the crash of the thunder makes you bolt upright, pulling the sheets toward you frantically and interrupting the peaceful sleep you had managed to fall into. thunder booms again; you dive under the covers, but whether out of annoyance at being woken up or fear of the downpour roaring through the atmosphere, you’d rather not say.

earlier, the thunderstorm currently raging outside had been nothing more than a light drizzle with a few lightning flashes here and there. the thunder had been practically non-existent while you had gotten ready for bed, and it only started until you were half-asleep, too drawn within the tranquil oblivion you had fallen into to notice or care.

there was no way you’d be falling back asleep now, though. the rain hit the windows too heavily, the wind howled like it could knock down hogwarts’ seemingly sturdy walls, and...was it hailing, as well? great, you think, just my luck.

the thunder roars again, loudly resonating throughout the grounds, and you snuggle deeper into the blankets. in a bed a few feet away from you, you hear lily snore, clear as a bell even with the storm crashing through outside. that brings you a shred of comfort; maybe you could sleep away the downpour after all.

that reassurance is quickly snatched away when a particularly big clap of thunder manages to rattle the dormitory window, a feat that is not easily achieved thanks to the ancient magic keeping hogwarts upright.

when you were much smaller, storms like this one would have you bolting to your parents’ room in the middle of the night, your fear of the pitch-black, creaky old house after dark be damned. your mother would say you were getting too old to burrow into their bed but still let you climb onto it, while your father would just peek at you and fall right back to sleep, his snores succeeding in drowning out the horrible thunder.

the summer before your first year at hogwarts, when a particularly scary rainstorm had you running to the comfort of your parents’ room again, your mother blatantly refused to let you dive under her covers. she said you were getting too old, too big, and “whose bed would you dash to at hogwarts?” while your father snored away in sleep, your mother told you to go back to your room and be brave. so, determined to show the thunder who’s boss, you marched back to your own bed with your head held high. your confidence lasted a total of two minutes and thirty-seven seconds, and you didn’t sleep a wink that night. instead, you stayed up, too afraid to sleep, and spent the rest of the early morning thinking about useless things: your dolls and what clothes you would dress them up in, the mudpies you had left to bake in the sun which were surely ruined thanks to the storm, and how you would beat the mean little boy next door to the swingset at the playground the next day.

so that’s what you did now: you thought about futile things while curled up in your dormitory bed, things like lessons and essays you hadn’t started on, chapters you were supposed to have read but could do fine without, parchment and quills and ink you needed to have replenished the next hogsmeade weekend.

in the end, it was pointless; the thunderstorm raged on, and you had never felt more awake in your life. abandoning the hope that you could fall asleep, you quietly pull back the curtains of your four-poster and tiptoe out the dormitory, careful not to wake any of the other sleeping girls in the room. reaching the staircase, you sluggishly walk down to the common room, planning on starting the fire up again and sitting in front of it until the morning, maybe even sneak down to the kitchens for food if you felt up for it.

you stop short when you see a figure sprawled on the stuffy couch, their lanky limbs hanging off of it. as you cautiously step closer, a smile tugs at your face to see it’s remus, transfiguration book abandoned and left open on his steadily rising and falling chest, used parchment strewn all over the floor. you make your way over and sit down on the armrest, contemplating whether you should wake him up or not; he looked happier when he was sleeping, as cliche as that sounded. you wonder what he’s dreaming of.

another roar of thunder; you jump, almost falling off the couch, and decide that waking remus up would only be for the best...after all, you didn’t want him to wake up with a sore neck from having to sleep in that awful position, did you?

you gently shake him, muttering, “remmy...remus.” he doesn’t stir, though, and you take to poking his arm softly, then a bit harder as you start to wonder how heavy of a sleeper he really is. “remus!”

he wakes with a start, the book tumbling down to the floor as he sits up swiftly, calming down only when he sees you standing there expectantly. he rubs his eyes, yawning, and groggily asks, “(y/n)? what are you doing?”

“what are you doing?” you ask in response, looking curiously around at the bundle of parchment and quills scattered around him. the storm is far from your mind even if you can still hear it outside; remus has become the perfect distraction.

he yawns again and looks down at his watch. you notice he’s still in his uniform...has he not gone up to bed at all?

“i was working on the transfiguration essay due tomorrow...must’ve fallen asleep, i suppose,” he answers, and you realize that he hadn’t done it because of last week’s full moon; but remus was never one to make excuses for himself, even if those excuses were credible.

lightning flashes outside bringing with it another clap of thunder; remus’s attention turns to the window. to your surprise, he smiles.

“is it raining outside?” he asks as he moves for a better view. so much for a distraction, you think as remus exclaims excitedly, “oh, it’s more than rain, it’s a storm!”

his face lights up, or maybe it’s just the lightning continuing outside. he proceeds to stare, transfixed, at the downpour. “beautiful, is it not? how the lightning can be sometimes white, or purple, or maybe even both. how the thunder rattles the earth down to its core,” he says after some time.

beautiful? if beautiful meant terrifying and too intense for your liking then, “yes, i suppose it is,” you answer.

another thunder strike, probably the loudest one that night, makes you jump. remus notices, and, with an expression of concern on his face, says more than asks, “you’re afraid of the thunder...that’s why you woke me up.”

how could one person be so intuitive?

you shrug your shoulders and nod, mumbling, “ever since i was a child.” remus smiles, that warm smile that he had when he was sleeping, as he walks over to the couch again, sitting down and getting himself comfortable. moving the quills and his book out of the way, he looks up at you expectantly. “well?” he asks.

“well what?” you inquire back, confused.

he laughs. “my lap is open for the taking,” remus says and pats his legs. realizing what he’s offering, you scramble over to the couch, laying down and resting your head on his lap, finally feeling truly at ease for the first time that night.

remus picks his book back up again, and you ask, “won’t you be sleeping, too?”

he shakes his head and smiles gently. “no, i have to finish this transfiguration essay. but don’t worry; i’ll be here with you until you fall asleep.”

a few minutes pass, and remus starts idly drawing random shapes on your arm, soothing you until you’re in that state between consciousness and sleep. just as you feel yourself slipping away, thunder booms, and you flinch, the sound startling you.

remus is quick to lean down and press gentle kisses to your forehead, murmuring all the while, “‘s alright. go to sleep, my love.” you can hear the fatigue in his voice, and know he won’t last much longer awake.

the thunder goes away for a few minutes but comes back again, although you don’t notice it much with remus’s arms wrapped around you. you glance up at him one last time before closing your eyes, and see remus dozing off again, the small smile he gets in his sleep back.

content, you snuggle in closer; this might’ve been the longest night of your life, but could proudly say the storm didn’t scare you as much anymore, not when remus held you through the crash of the thunder.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: why does this feel like the longest thing i've ever written LMFAO. anyways i love remus lupin <3

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marvel-movies-bucky-barnes · 3 years

Text

Moving Forward

Summary: You are Tony’s sister and in love with Bucky, but Tony still doesn’t trust Bucky post-Winter Soldier

Pairing: Bucky x Laela (reader)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Thor Odinson, Wanda Maximoff,

Warnings: Fluff, some kissing, light spoilers up until Captain America: Civil War, angst, self-doubts, mentions of brainwashing, comforting

Word count: 3,346

Author’s note: This is really my first fic I’ve ever written and posted. Please be kind and enjoy! I am in the process of going through the Marvel movies chronologically for the first time, so I HAVE NOT FINISHED THE MOVIES YET! Please don’t comment spoilers past Spiderman: Homecoming in Marvel’s chronology! I appreciate reposts and comments!

Requests: OPEN

*NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNER*

You would think that a man who had nothing left to lose would be ready to throw himself to the fire. You would think that a simple retrieval mission would be as routine as putting on your shoes before you walk out the door. You would think that spending ten years living under the protection of a hotheaded brother with an egocentric mind would warrant the basic privilege of a release from the iron-fisted grip on your whereabouts.

According to Natasha, all this thinking is what gets me into trouble with Tony in the first place.

“I don’t understand.” Grabbing Tony’s arm, halfway lifted to the coffee mug balancing precariously on the edge of the counter, I spun him toward me. I knew full well that he could have dug his feet in his tracks if he had wanted to, yet he yielded. “Why will you take me and not him?”

“You know why. And if you weren’t so naïve, maybe you would wake up from this daydream you’re living in and realize that I’m right.” A shadow must have crossed my face—one all too familiar to the team who was lounging against pristine furniture a room over, feigning ignorance to our conversation. As I glanced over my shoulder, a dozen pairs of eyes darted around, immediately finding innate fascination in the stitching of the carpet and the chandelier gently swinging above the banister.

“Laela—,” Avoiding eye contact, he slid his fingers into the iron hand of his suit, hissing when the cold metal bit into his skin. As if he hadn’t worn it enough times to have the basic instinct of turning on the heater first. Cool granite hit my skin as I hoisted myself up onto the counter. The silence was deafening, or maybe it was the blood roaring through my ears—hot-headed, the only way the Stark family knows—until he finally dropped his head in defeat. “One.”

One pin drop could be heard; one collective breath was held by the rest of the team; one last nerve of his that I was getting on? The possibilities were endless. Biting my tongue, I waited as patiently as could be expected as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“One mission,” he relented, swearing lightly as if he were battling against conscious. “You have one hour to get him ready. Starting now.”

I saw those dozen pairs of eyes burning holes in the back of Tony’s head, mouths hung open like fish out of water. When I glanced past Tony and made eye contact with Steve, his eyebrows shot to his hairline and he motioned me quickly toward the door before Tony could change his mind.

“One hour!” Tony hollered after me as I backpedaled out of the room, tripping over the leg of Thor’s chair on the way.

My feet had a mind of their own as they carried me up two flights of stairs and three different hallways before I knocked gently on the heavy oak door next to my own. I had originally picked my room at the far end of the mansion for the view of the coast, the endless stretch of ocean providing a comforting hum of white noise while I slept.

I like to think Bucky had picked his for the sounds of the ocean as well, though I imagine the rush of the waves works to calm more than his insomnia.

When he didn’t answer, I let myself in. I was shocked, in the beginning, at the stark contrast between his room and the other bedrooms in the house. The walls—completely bare save for the navy paint coating—were shockingly distinct from my own, which were covered in photos and haphazardly hung posters. Walking into his room now, I see how calming the blankness of the walls can be for Bucky, especially if it mirrors what he’d like to feel inside his own mind. A clean slate in his room; peaceful, blank walls. Stillness. The hope that these can be replicated onto himself.

I can’t help but think back to one of the first nights we shared in this room.

I had woken up in the middle of the night to a cold bed. Frantically grabbing at the sheets for the familiar touch of a warm hand or even the cold bite of the metal on his arm was futile, and I shot up ramrod straight in our bed to see him leaning against the railing of the balcony, fingers digging into the wood and unclenching, repeatedly.

It was a sight I had come to be familiar with.

As it was happening in this moment, I had done nothing more than walk over to him and lean my elbows against the railing and watch the waves, knowing that this was something that I couldn’t fix—something that he hadn’t wanted me to fix. I had made it clear that there was nothing in him that needed to be fixed, but I gave him the space to work through the storm clouds surrounding his head.

That was all the other needed at times, I believe; someone there to ground us as we battled against our own demons clawing at our heads.

Tonight, Bucky’s elbows leaned into the railing, the metal biting into the splintering wood. He didn’t seem to notice. His shoulders eased a fraction of an inch as he heard me approach, something that had taken him months to be able to do around anyone.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“HYDRA. Winter Soldier Operative.” A short, clipped response. Unspoken words hung heavy in the balance; thoughts I knew he wouldn’t breach right now. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence—it never was with me and him. Though a hundred questions came bubbling to the surface, I held back. Sparing him a sidelong glance, he shook his head lightly.

He didn’t want to talk about it. And that was all right.

“I was thinking,” I mused, reaching over to take Bucky’s arm in my hand and tracing the grooves of the metal. “Wouldn’t it be nice to get away? Somewhere the Winter Soldier won’t follow?”

It was naïve thinking, I realized almost immediately. Just as Tony had said (not that I would ever admit to this truth). Naïve to believe that we could escape the mission, if only for a few moments; naïve to believe that Bucky could take himself out of world he had formed through escapism.

“I can’t change the past, doll.” He focused on one point across the ocean while I centered on the dips and divots of the vibranium.

“No one’s asking you to. But you don’t need to let it define you.” Reaching up, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. It had been blowing in his face for God knows how long; I knew he wouldn’t have bothered to fix it himself any time soon.

“The Winter Soldier is in the past. HYDRA can’t get to you anymore. This Bucky,” tapping my finger against his heart, I looked up at him, “this James—he’s the man I fell in love with.”

His withering stare finally softened as his shoulders relaxed all the way. Something clicked in him when he heard James—something he only hears from me.

“You’re here because Tony finally released his grip on you, is that it?” he quipped, softening his words by pressing his lips to the top of my head. “I could hear Tony yelling from downstairs, so I had asked JARVIS for the mission update before you came up.”

“You don’t have to go. You know that; no one would hold it against you.” As he opened his mouth to protest (most likely about how Tony would hold it against him if he had so much as buttered his toast wrong), I gently cut him off with a squeeze of his hand. “I do think it might help get things back on track with Tony, though, Buck.”

“He still doesn’t trust me.” Bucky’s eyes hardened, turning back toward the ocean.

“Prove him wrong.”

His silence held more than he knew, and he seemed to realize this as he gave a brisk nod and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek before turning to change into his gear.

_______________________________________________________________________

On the plane, as luck would have it, I had scored the seat between Bucky and Tony, Bucky being across the aisle from Steve, Bruce and Sam as well. He kept up quiet, polite conversation with Bruce and Sam on the way, his hand resting on my knee and his voice soft. While he was distracted, I took the opportunity to nudge Tony in the right direction.

“Talk to him,” I encouraged, pressing on when Tony narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know the first thing about him.”

At his bark of indignation, I cut him a look sharp as glass.

“You have misjudged him since the moment you met him,” I snapped, fingers curling into a fist. “We are a team. You want me, you get him, too. That’s how this works.”

Though I had pitched my voice low to avoid the others overhearing, Tony stiffened, and I could sense Wanda attempting to shift the energy of the plane as the rest of the team began stumbling over their words to affect cluelessness about the situation. Five metal fingers tightened lightly over my knee and I laid my hand atop his without breaking eye contact with Tony.

“Bucky didn’t kill our parents.” A sharp intake—whether from Bucky or from Wanda, I couldn’t be sure—sounded throughout the aircraft. “The Winter Soldier did. HYDRA did. Since coming back, Bucky’s done nothing but try to beg for your forgiveness, your understanding, and you’ve been a brick wall—to him, to Steve, to me. And deep down, I think you’re just scared to admit that you could have been wrong about something.”

My breathing rattled in my lungs.

The metal of Bucky’s fingers clicked together as they pressed into my knee.

A quiet rustle of Thor’s cloak and Natasha spinning a dagger between gloved fingers.

The soft tap of Steve’s shield against the seat of the plane.

One

Two

Three beats of

A b s o l u t e l y n o t h i n g.

As I turned back toward Bucky, his metal fingers tapping lightly into the fabric of my jeans, one-two-three, one-two—a grounding tactic he told me he once used at HYDRA’s base—I shook my head, willing to accept that there was nothing I could do for Tony to put his ego aside and take in what I was saying when—

“You’re right.” Tony let out a breath I knew he had probably been holding around Bucky since the Winter Soldier operative. Low enough for only me and Bucky to hear—though he directed his words at me—two words I never thought Bucky would hear from him (whether indirectly or not) fell past his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“James is—Bucky’s —not the Winter Soldier. He’s not the man you’ve painted him out to be. I love him for who he is, not what he has or hasn’t done. He’s done more for this team and for me than you care to notice. Maybe if you’d put your enormous ego aside and have a conversation with him, you would see that.”

Tony’s eyes darted between mine for five—six—seven beats, his lips pressed into a fine line. Five metal fingers continued tapping a pattern onto my thigh. One breath.

“I know you love him.”

A dozen pairs of eyes bore through Tony with a steel gaze, unabashedly pinning him in place with a single look.

“Let’s see what he’s got.”

_______________________________________________________________________

I’d normally call a successful mission any time our team made it out alive, though I knew Tony didn’t see it the same way. Today was different—while half the team victory was winning the battle against a terrorist organization set to infiltrate the city, I would say that Bucky and I found our own victory in our small interaction with Tony on the plane.

“I’ve been thinking, Laela,” Bucky murmured from where we lazed across the chair on the veranda. I waited for him to continue and looked up at him, but his gaze wasn’t on me—it was trained on the ocean once more. I knew he was sifting through his thoughts, tangled in a knot from the last twenty-four hours—likely from before then, even. “I’ve been thinking about 1942.”

“The war?” I twisted a strand of his hair that had fallen into his eyes, not wanting to press too much on a sensitive subject. Tucking the strand behind his ear, I met his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Laying my head back down on his chest, I counted five heartbeats before he finally let out a breath.

“Yes. But not now.” His plated fingers brushed against my knee. His fingers tapped a rhythm against my knee—one-two-three, one-two. Grounding himself in reality. “I remember everything detail. About the war, about the HYDRA operative. Going under. Every moment.”

I knew as much, though he rarely talked about it openly like this.

“Tony stopped me when we came home from the mission.” The tension in his arms wrapped around me vanished on that word—home. “After you had gone up to bed, and I told you I would meet you up there. We started talking—one of the first real conversations I think we’ve ever had. He asked me—”

I waited for him to finish, knowing that whatever he had to say must have been as difficult then as it was now.

“He asked me about HYDRA. About the Winter Soldier.” As my body tried to jerk toward his, he gently pushed my shoulders back to lay against his chest. “It’s fine. I told him I didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t press—shocking as that is.”

“Did he ask about anything else?”

“He asked about you,” he admitted. At my baffled expression, he snorted and added, “Relax. He didn’t threaten to murder me and hide my body, if that’s what you’re wondering. He asked about what you said on the plane.”

Racking my brain, I remembered how heated I was toward Tony in the moment.

“You hadn’t told him that before, had you? That you loved me.”

It wasn’t an accusation, just a question. A statement, really. Still, I felt a flush creep up my neck as I tried to find a point on the horizon to focus on. Bucky knew that I loved him but didn’t always understand why. I hadn’t heard the same from him, and it was fine—honestly.

I would break off pieces of my own soul to give him, bit by bit, if it would give him some peace, just to let him know how loved he is.

“Have I ever told you the first memory I have of you? At the HYDRA base, when you and Steve had come to break me out?” Without waiting for an answer, a shaky laugh fell past his lips as he lifted his hand from my shoulder to comb his hair back.

“You had barreled through the door, right on Steve’s heels. HYDRA had been poking around in my brain, and I didn’t have control of what I was doing. But I was aware of what was going on around me.” His eyes met mine then, and my breath caught in my throat. “Tony was screaming from the sidelines for you to get the hell out of there when those HYDRA agents were about to storm the base. But you grabbed my hand and insisted that you wouldn’t leave me behind.”

His eyes glazed over, shifting his reality to that moment. My fingers tightened against his hands, both flesh and vibranium, letting him know that I wouldn’t leave him behind in this moment, either. Showing what I couldn’t put into words.

“I hadn’t done anything to prove to you that I could be trusted, and you were willing to lay your life on the line for me. You were the first one to speak to me after returning to the house. Other than Steve, you were the first one to make any effort to get to know me—the real me. James, not Bucky or The Winter Soldier.” His lips curved up in a genuine smile, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and scrunched his nose and brought a pinch of color to his cheeks. Something that he didn’t show a lot. “You were the first one to call me out on my shit. Everyone else was too scared to even approach me.”

The room was silent now, but a comforting silence, one that wrapped itself around us as we gazed out toward the ocean.

“I know I have a lot to make up for. Not just to Tony and the team, but to you.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he silenced me by pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of love before I met you. The team—I've noticed most of them coming around, too. The other week, Clint was going on a supply run, and he asked me to come with him. I don’t think he had spoken to me more than a handful of times before that.”

“That was all you, Buck. The others are finally starting to see who you are in here,” I brought his vibranium hand in mine to tap against his heart. “Something they should have begun to do a long time ago.”

He settled into the chair on the veranda and pulled me tighter against his chest, his hair brushing against my cheek. I didn’t push it away. We sat like that, wound together in a comfortable silence, until the ocean breeze started to send a chill up my arm.

“It’s nice,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “Feeling like I’m starting to belong somewhere. Like I have something to live for. Everyone from my past live, back in 1942—they're gone. Aside from Steve. I felt lost, for such a long time. Now it feels like the pieces are starting to fit together again—like I have people who love me in this life. Like I have a family.”

“You do have a family. We will always be there for you, whether you see it or not. And, though they may not say it, they love you. Almost as much as I do.” Laying my hand against his cheek, I gently turned his face to look at me, to recognize my words. I tapped against his heart—one-two-three, one-two. Grounding ourselves. “I love you, James. For what’s in here. I always will.”

I take it he hadn’t heard those words enough; his eyes lit up, brighter than I had ever seen, and a soft smile slowly spread across his lips.

“I love you, Laela.”

I’m not sure how long we laid in that chair, watching the tide crash against the rocks, my fingers tracing the grooves of his hand. All I remember is two arms, one flesh, one metal, hook under my legs and back and walk us back to the bed. I remember those same arms encircling me just moments later. I remember Bucky’s breathing slowing to a gentle brush against my neck as his snores softly echoed throughout the room.

I remember waking up before him the next morning and studying every line of his face, every divot of his vibranium arm, taking in every snore that escaped past his lips. I remember feeling love—his for me, and mine for him—all-encompassing in the quiet moments we had shared together.

Looking at him, finally comfortable in his own skin, relaxed in a way I knew he had never felt before, I knew I wouldn’t trade this for the world.

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ashdreams2023 · 2 years

Note

Yo, if you're still doing Marvel match-ups, could you do one for me? (if not, it's fine, love to read your other stuff as well ❤️)

I've not seen Eternals and Shang-Chi yet, so if you could avoid them that'd be awesome.

I'm a university student, studying english to become an interpreter, female, hetero. Quite tall, but smaller than most Marvel boys. My hair are short, usually purple or whatever I see fit at the moment (might fck around and make them like,,, rainbow, next) and that's probably the most noticeable thing about me, aside from being a menace when I decide that I want to get to know someone. I try not to be pushy, but I often just start asking a lot of random questions to get to know new people, like, hi what's your favourite type of a screw, because how people answer to that estimates what kinda person they are (are you gonna go on a tangent about how those like,,, crosses are better or are you gonna ask me what the fuck do i mean? both answers are good, but i got to see where to go from there 😂) I feel like I have two moods: loud tomboy or softie baby doll and there is nothing in-between.

I have a bunch of unread books waiting for me, but now I mostly watch the biggest movies that come out or horrors (but that only with someone, I'm too much of a chicken to watch them alone). I like to sing, even if not well. I like rock and punk music (a lot of subgenres here), have some posters of my favourite artists in my room. I like big cozy sweaters, stolen t-shirts, hours-long hugs, holding hands, playing with people's hair, cliché scenes in rom-coms, fluffy animals, sittings for hours with a tea in the morning to wake up properly. I like small gifts, like a rock or a button that made the person gifting it to me thing about me. I treasure them more than the expensive stuff. I have one flower that still lives on my windowsill and I will do anything for that sucker to survive. And I mean. Everything.

I really don't like when someone is ignoring me, I'd rather hear that they don't want to listen to me. I don't like people who are too stubborn to learn new things and change their mind. I absofkinlutely hate storms and other big scary weather formations. I don't like people who don't take boundries seriously. I have a big problem with people not treating retail workers, waiters etc. properly. People who don't feel protective over those that are weaker in a certain situation disturb me. If a someone's being an asshole, you need to be ready to back me up, I can't fight foe shit, but boy, I can't watch someone get treated badly.

Bucky Barnes

Nobody expected you two together, like seeing you both together for the first time is like that Deadpool meme {you know the one}

You know bucky appreciate that you’re not trying too hard and just asking bland questions at first

Either you’re being a tomboy or a softie Bucky wouldn’t treat any gentler, even if gets a bit moody he doesn’t like changing his attitude towards you

Bucky seems like the type to read those books out loud for you on a boring Wednesday

Blast rock music in the early morning and you’ll find him head popping in the living room

You can steal his clothes but he won’t hesitate to tackle you to the coach to get his sweater back if you make snarky comments

Playing with his hair makes him super relaxed and calm

Bucky knows how important boundaries are so if you keep his he’ll keep up with yours

He won’t hold you back but he’ll stand behind you to scare off whoever tries it

#bucky barns x reader #mcu matchups

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m00nycore · 3 years

Text

𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙋𝙄𝘿 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 ;; 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 .

𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 .

𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙤𝙘 (𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨)

𝙩/𝙬 : 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙞𝙣 (𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙀𝘿𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙), 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛-𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚, 𝙖𝙖𝙖𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣

𝙖/𝙣 : 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚’𝙨 𝙥𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮, 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡. 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙.

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣 𝙀𝘿, 𝙞’𝙢 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩. 𝙞 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙝𝙢𝙪 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 ❥

𝙏𝘼𝙂𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 ;; @aesthetic-el @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lord-byron @drxcomvlfx @neocityslut

Waking up was hard.

In complete darkness, Wren stared above, the curtains of her four poster bed drawn, trying to adjust her eyes to the dark. She knew it was far earlier than the others would wake.

She retrieved her wand from under one of her pillows, careful not to disturb Aegis, and removedthe silencing charm she put around her bed every night. She liked her privacy—unfortunately, being in a dormitory with Pansy Parkinson didn’t allow that.

“Bardick,” Pansy seethed, upon Wren entering the room. Freshly bathed after the feast, she had only just reached the room—save arriving first, previously, to collect what clothes and things she needed.

“Yes, Pansy?” she replied, feigning politeness as she ran her hands through her damp curls. Internally, she cursed—Pansy would be a bitch to deal with.

“How exactly did you go about cursing Draco into falling in love with you?”

Millicent Bulstrode cackled whilst Daphne Greengrass, who was seated on her bed, sighed.

“It would have been a love potion, Pansy,” she sounded bored. “Besides, it couldn’t be. Draco wasn’t falling face-first onto her during dinner. Don’t be daft.”

Wren smiled slightly. Daphne Greengrass was, perhaps, her favorite Slytherin girl in their year. Though not friends, they had seemed to form a mutual agreement of neutrality; neither of the girls wanted what they had, so it was easy to leave each other alone. Besides, it wasn’t in their characters to pick fights the way others did.

Pansy sneered. “Well, there’s absolutely no way that Draco could have fallen for that—that thing over there. She looks like she’s been starving herself! She’s let herself go—not that her resemblance to that blood traitor mother of her’s was doing her any favors.”

To Wren’s surprise, Daphne looked up at Pansy, contempt in her eyes.

“Pansy, don’t sabotage their happiness. It’s unbecoming of you.”

Wren momentarily locked eyes with her, Daphne giving her the faintest nod, before turning her attention back to the skincare products she had been examining before. Being within the higher tier of the social circle, she knew Daphne was aware of the betrothal. She would keep the secret.

“I wouldn’t want to bother you with the gory details anyway,” Wren assured Pansy, who had gone a shade of red—whether that be of anger or embarrassment, she was unsure.

She wandered into the smaller bathroom within their dorm, careful to be silent. She preferred the alternative baths within the school—especially the prefects bathroom that her friend Lara from Hufflepuff gave her the password to.

The mirror wasn’t Wren’s friend, those days.

Wren had always been beautiful, taking after her mother rather than her father. Her looks were regal, classic, and indicative of her upbringing. As a child, she looked like a porcelain doll.

After her mother died, she had declined.

Still lovely, she lost weight and developed sleep problems, causing her to perpetually have bruise-like circles under her eyes. Blaise had once told her she looked more painting than human when it got bad.

That morning, her reflection scared her.

Her cheeks were sunken, the dark circles were more prominent, and her collarbones popped out under the thin membrane of her skin.

Her engagement ring was enchanted to change size based on the size of her finger- which was growing thinner as well.

“I’m hideous,” she murmured, slight surprise in her tone. She wasn’t ugly by any means- but the sight of her was alarming. Draco and Pansy might have been right.

Dressing quickly—and flinching at the sight of her tattooed forearm—she tried to think of somewhere to go. As she pulled her curls into a low twist on the back of her head and slipped on the ring she dreaded... she realized she had nowhere to go.

Again, she was a prisoner.

Her body carried her out of the dormitories and downstairs. She briefly considered going to the forest to visit the thestrals, but she had no doubt that Filch would be patrolling the corridors with more fervor as it was the start of term.

She almost didn’t notice Draco sitting on one of the couches in the common room- one away from the crackling fire.

She hesitated before walking over quietly and sitting with him on the couch, a few feet between them. Neither of them looked at each other or said a word. After all, they’d have to talk enough just for show.

Wren shuddered, suddenly and against her will. It was freezing in the common room.

“Cold, Bardick?”

“Just a bit frozen. It’s alright, I often am.”

Draco glanced at her. “You look disgusting, Bardick.”

She couldn’t disagree. She couldn’t even respond. Her increase in sensitivity to cold definitely had to do with her decline in weight.

“It’s not doing favors for either of us,” Draco continued, contempt in his voice. “I wish you’d just eat, you stubborn idiot.”

“I can’t,” she replied, in a small voice. So small that Draco properly looked at her.

“I don’t know why, but I can’t eat. The thought of food makes me nauseated. I’ve been getting sick, and it’s all... bile.”

“You’re killing yourself,” he murmured, though it sounded like he was talking to himself.

Following their Transfiguration lesson, Professor McGonagall called Wren to stay after for a moment.

“Just leave, Draco,” she instructed. “I’ll meet you in potions.”

With a squeeze to her hand and a chaste kiss to the top of her head, he was gone.

“Yes, Professor?” The classroom was empty, and she was confused as to why she had been called on.

“Ma. Bardick,” she began, seeming genuinely concerned. “I see that you are now engaged to Mr. Malfoy, and I would like to offer my congratulations,” she gave a small, almost maternal smile. Professor McGongall had always been one of her favorite teachers.

She didn’t deserve her kindness. If only she knew...

“Thank you, Professor. It means a lot to me that you’d say that. But I have to wonder, was that all? You seem a bit concerned, ma’am.”

“Yes, well,” she began, almost seeming at a loss for words. “I haven’t had to have this conversation in a while,” she mused, looking over the girl. “My dear, you’re all skin and bones.”

Oh. Her heart dropped. Her appearance was garnering attention from more than just her peers.

“Are you eating, Ms. Bardick?” There was no stern tone- it was pure and utter concern.

She considered telling the truth, about the stomach pain, the getting sick, the weakness and dizziness... all of it.

“Thank you, Professor McGongall. I know that I look a bit... different, but I can assure you that I am not withholding myself from meals by choice,” she mentally slapped herself.

“Are you feeling physically unable to eat?”

I deserve to die, with what I’ll be apart of. You should kill me yourself.

“I’m not developing at eating disorder,” she told her teacher, sincerity in her eyes. “I know that it seems alarming, but I promise that I am alright. Draco and I are both prioritizing my health.”

Looking doubtful, she nodded. “Very well, Ms. Bardick. You’d do well to go visit Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing, dear... the rest of the staff is concerned as well. You’ve always been quite thin, but...” she trailed off.

The staff noticed. Did Professor Dumbledore? If any of them knew what was to happen, they’d smile as you waste away.

Wren smiled. “Thank you, Professor. If it gets too bad, I assure you I will visit Madame Pomfrey.”

Bidding each other farewell, she made her way to Potions.

Draco watched as Persephone made her way into the class, vaguely registering Pansy ceasing her mindless babbling to him and dissolving into an anger that he could physically feel.

She smiled, lightly, as she approached him, and looked over to Pansy.

“Do you mind, Pansy? I’d like to stand next to my fiancé.”

Draco saw Granger looking curiously at the two of them. He grabbed Persphone’s hand and kissed it, for good measure. Mudbloods needed to keep their nose out of the business of others.

Professor Slughorn entered the room, wearing brilliant robes and smiling at the students.

Draco faced his fiancée, whose attention was trained on the few cauldrons before them all. Her gaze was blank.

The two were in separate words, still aware of Slughorn’s teaching, but still elsewhere. Draco wondered, absentmindedly, what McGongall could have said to her.

As their new professor was preaching the importance of attention to detail in potions, Potter and Weasel walked through the door.

Fantastic. Slughorn was already a part of his fan club.

Draco had better to do than seeth about Potter’s sudden presence. Potion’s had always been one of his better subjects, so he hardly listened to Granger blather along about what potions there were. He needed to plan.

Until he was snapped from his haze with the mention of her name.

“Ms. Bardick, is it?”

Persephone nodded at the man, smiling. She looked incredibly small amid even the small group of students.

“Yes, sir?” she released Draco’s hand, stepping slightly forward.

“Well, I only find it appropriate for you to smell this potion given your engagement! My merriest congratulations to the both of you!” he exclaimed, clapping, which was followed by the other students, albeit weaker.

Draco watched her take delicate steps towards the cauldron, wafting the smell up to her nose. Draco saw her brow furrow.

“What do you smell, my dear?” Slughorn prompted.

“My mother’s perfume,” she said, in a very small voice. “I’ve worn it since she passed.”

Draco almost flinched, mentally, at the look on her face. The pain.

“Go on,” Slughorn encouraged, gently. He obviously didn’t want the girl upset.

“Lavender tea and the smell of a forest at dawn. The smell of cold... when the scent of winter hangs in the air? And...,” she trailed off, looking down.

“He smells crisp, of wind and dew on the grass. Fresh, as if his normalcy is new. He smells of satin and velvet, of sunshine and cold air... sorry, I’m sure you all suspected that,” she smiled, glancing down. She knew what she was doing.

“Congratulations, once more! How lovely!” Slughorn repeated, obviously happy with the answer he sought.

The two smiled at each other as she walked back up. He kissed the side of her head, mentally pleased with her performance. None of the others in the room would find it touching- no, Draco was disliked.

But they would find it believable.

As Slughorn droned on about Amortentia’s dangers, the other women in the room- Persephone and Granger excluded- drew closer to the cauldron, almost as if in a trance, before the cauldron was closed.

“Um, sir, you haven’t told us what’s in that one?” A Gryffindor girl asked, pointing towards the smallest vial on display.

“Ah, yes,” Slughorn extracted the vial from the stand holding it. “What you see before you, ladies and gentlemen, is a curious little potion known as Felix Felicis. But it is more commonly referred to as-“

“Liquid Luck.”

“Yes, Ms. Granger... Liquid Luck. Desperately tricky to make, disastrous should you get it wrong. One sip, and you should find all of your endeavors succeed.”

Draco glanced up, suddenly fully aware of the situation. He felt Persephone’s eyes glance at him, as to not attract too much attention. She squeezed his hand.

“At least, until the effects wear off,” he finished, with a chuckle. “So, this is what I offer each of you today. One tiny vial of liquid luck for the student who, in the hour that remains, managers to brew an acceptable Draught of Living Death... the recipe of which will be found on page ten of your books,” Slughorn paused, as pages rustled. “I should point out, however... only once did a student brew a potion of sufficient quality to claim this prize. Nevertheless, good luck to you all... let the brewing commence!”

Persephone nodded as they moved to their workstations.

“This is attainable,” she murmured, to Draco. He didn’t respond.

Potions came very naturally to Draco, and he began to work right away, as did Persephone, moving just as quickly as he was. He couldn’t help but notice her proficiency.

The sopophorous beans were a bit of a setback, but they were for everyone. Crabbe’s suddenly went flying across the room, with a shout.

Persephone was staring down at the bean, focused and unmoving.

“Dear?” Draco hissed, quiet enough for people not to hear the tenseness in his tone. “Why are you just staring there?” She needed to be helping, not just standing there. They needed the Liquid Luck.

Persephone didn’t respond, and a few beats later, she moved her knife so quickly that it nearly frightened him. She was crushing the bean with the side of the blade.

“Easier that way,” she hummed, giving him a small smile. “They obviously don’t like being cut.”

Walking next to Draco to the common room after classes, she wanted to say something. It was strange- she almost wanted to sooth him. She was a kind person by nature, but she didn’t deem Draco deserving of her kindness.

“There will be another solution,” she murmured, brushing her hand against his, both for comfort and for show. “How is the van-?”

“Love,” he began, obviously trying to sound kind, rather than the usual, biting tone. “I’m very tired right now. I’ll tell you my other ideas later.”

Other ideas? So he’s decided not to use the vanishing cabinet?

“Well, okay, I just-,” she was cut off by Draco walking off, to the hall adjacent to their common room. She stood, watching his retreating figure.

“Trouble in paradise?” Blaise.

She turned, relieved to see her friend. “It’s complicated.”

Blaise lazily recited the password and the passageway to the common room revealed itself. They went to a deserted corner, where Aegis was seated, sinking into chairs opposite each other.

Blaise smirked. “Wren, you look like shit.”

She half-laughed, petting her cat, and suddenly realizing how relieved she was to be with someone comfortable.

“Yeah, well, it feels physically impossible to eat these days. And McGonagall spoke to me, asking me if I need help. I’m fine, though.”

“Yeah, tell me that when you pass out.”

Saying that was Blaise’s funny way of showing concern. He was apathetic as ever, but she knew him well enough to know what he meant.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?” He asked, staring at her. “I don’t think you will, but I may as well ask.”

She sighed, and she felt the resolve falter, just for a moment. She felt her face change, revealing just how tired, just how sick, just how depressed she truly felt.

As quick as it had happened, it was over.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

#with all of my stupid heart #draco #draco angst #draco imagine #draco fic #harry potter #harry potter angst #harry potter fic #harry potter smut #draco malfoy #draco smut #draco x oc #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you

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goldenkamuyhunting · 3 years

Text

Manga vs Anime: Episode 30 “Bad Sign”

So let’s start with Ep 6 of the 3rd series… which is the 30 Golden Kamuy animated episode.

Some data first.

This episode last 23:40 minutes and has an opening and an the ending. It covers 3 chaps and a half of the manga, chap 163, 164, 165, & half of chap 166 for a total of around 69 pages (I’m discounting the covers) basically covering half of Vol 17.

The episode is titled ‘Bad sign’, which is actually the title of chap 164, chap 163 being ‘Wanted poster’, chap 165 being ‘Flag bearer’, and chap 166 being ‘Request’.

NB: I’ve noticed the subs in this episode diverged in some points quite a bit from scanlations and official translation (like Yuusaku saying he was avoided by others in the barraks when it was more that OGATA was avoiding him or similar things). Japanese is often vague enough to allow for both meaning even if one is more obvious than the other to who knows the plot. I didn’t cover them in this analysis as I focused only on the animation and voice acting but consider yourself warned.

And now into the anime.

ASIRPA’S GROUP

Manga & Anime: Asirpa checks the wanted poster Ilya had, which matches with Kiro. Kiro tells her of his involvement in the facts of Saint Petersburg and of how Wilk was involved as well.

There are just some minor differences:

- In the manga we see Ilya throwing up blood before dying, while in the anime this scene is cut, possibly because they showed Ilya throwing up blood previously.

- In the anime, after Shiraishi says the guards were after Kiro, we see an image of a clearly dead Ilya. This wasn’t in the manga.

- In the manga Shiraishi comments how it’s not surprising the Russians are angry. In the anime this is cut.

My two cents: I’ll say this bit is well done. Not only the images are faithful enough to the manga but the way they’re presented gives the scene the right rhythm and atmosphere. The colouring, which gives in the idea of a flashback, is a nice touch and is also nice to watch and the final panning on the statue is a good idea. The background too is very nice. If anything the only thing is that apart from Kiro and Wilk people are absolutely still and will remain absolutely still. I get animating them would take more work but they really feel like dolls. On a positive side I loved how they handled Asirpa discovering Wilk was involved. The revealing of Wilk face alternated with Asirpa seeing the poster,

the rhythm of the scene, the music… well it was very good… and since they didn’t want to animate the people around them I think it was a clever trick to show all that smoke around Kiro as he carried away Wilk so as to cover the other people and make unnecessary to draw them. The panning on the statue was also a nice touch.

Oh, since the anime had sunset happen in the previous episode now the characters are shown with the colours implying it’s night. To be honest I should praise their eyesight as it seems pretty dark but I guess it was clear enough to allow Asirpa to see the poster.

THE OPENING STARTS HERE

VASILY KEEPING WATCH

Manga & Anime: It’s night. Vasily keeps on observing who he thinks to be Ogata but can’t catch him moving or breathing. Plus his hiding spot is bad as he could easily be seen, which isn’t a mistake he believes a veteran sniper like the one who killed Ilya would make so he decides to keep on observing.

My two cents: The anime well transposed this scene in animation. Not only it’s faithful to the manga but it gets you in the right tension.

KIRO’S GROUP IS WAITING

Manga & Anime: Kiro’s group is waiting for Ogata. Shiraishi, holding what was likely Ilya’s Mosin-Nagant, comments Ogata is late and wonders if they should go to back him up. Kiro says since Ogata told them to let him do it on his own they should just believe in him and wait.

My two cents: This is also well transposed. As Kiro’s talk was long they even redrew him in a different position and even had him move. Well done!

PREPARATIONS FOR THE HUNT

Manga & Anime: Vasily keeps on studying his opponent. Sunset comes and Vasily notices tracks near the body of his adversary. He follows them and see they lead to an Orok casket. He then assumes this means what he had been observing is just a scarecrow made using a corpse and Ogata is actually hidden in the casket therefore he shoots at it, the noise waking up Asirpa’s group. Only it turns out he was wrong, Ogata was really under the cape and now it’s his turn to shoot. He hits Vasily’s jaw, causing him to fall on the ground then tries to move but fall on the ground, panting.

There are just some minor differences:

- In the manga there’s an explanation about the battle of two snipers during the battle of Gallipoli. This is cut in the anime.

- In the manga Vasily shoots 6 times at the casket, in the anime only one.

My two cents: I would have said this is a beautiful transposition as not only it’s faithful (actually cutting the explanation allow the tension to rise more) but it pays good attention to the characters’ expressions and to the rhythm of the scene. Ogata moving slowly and then the shoot hitting Vasily is great as a choice,

the bullet hit Vasily in a scene that delivers what had happened without being too gory and even the splatter of blood work.

Ogata’s colouring hints at how he’s already feeling ill, well combined with the way he breathes.

They even darkened his eyes to make them more faithful to the manga

and his fall as well as the way he pants are also well done

so it would be a great scene if it wasn’t for an AWFUL mistake. Vasily didn’t shoot just one time to the casket, he shoot 6. The whole point wasn’t just to make him shoot first, but to make him shoot all his bullets so that Ogata, who only had a single shoot rifle could use that at his advantage. I really, really hope they’ll add the sound of those 5 more shoots in the dvd version because this is a pretty bad logical mistake. On a positive side this time, differently from the previous episode, you can see the traces in the snow and the colouring is very nice.

CHAP 163 ENDS HERE.

BACK TOGETHER

Manga & Anime: Asirpa notices Ogata is back to where the Orok/Uilta are waiting so they reach him to discover he looks really pale and has a fever. Ogata tries to wave him out as him merely eating too much snow when, looking at them, he hallucinates Yuusaku.

There are just some minor differences:

- In the manga Kiro says it looks like everything had been taken care of. In the anime this line is cut.

- In the manga Shiraishi crouches down to look at Ogata when he says Ogata looks really pale, his expression surprised and a little worried. In the anime he’s standing and looking normal.

- In the manga Asirpa isn’t in the panel when Ogata sees Yuusaku, even though she was standing right in front of him. In the anime she’s present.

My two cents: While the previous scene was good this one isn’t that great for various reasons. Shiraishi doesn’t sound really like he cares here, while in the anime he seemed to do so. While Tsuda Ken well deliver Ogata is not feeling well, the anime had Ogata raise his eyes before he finished speaking. It can work in the manga, where time works differently but in the anime we’ve the impression for 5 second he wasn’t seeing anything abnormal then BANG he hallucinated Yuusaku, combined with ghost sounding effect. The ghost yuusaku effect is nice but the worst thing the anime does which will be a mistake through the whole of it is that they add Asirpa to the scene when Ogata was instead hallucinating that Asirpa was Yuusaku (in fact even though she was standing right in front of Ogata till a moment before as soon as Yuusaku appear she suddently disappear and only Kiro and Shiraishi remain), something that in the manga ties well with the ending of Ogata’s fever dream but that doesn’t do so in the anime.

HALLUCINATION

Manga & Anime: Ogata hallucinates being on a sled trained by ghostly reindeers, Yuusaku leading it, turning to him and asking him if he feels cold. This causes Ogata to remember of the time when Yuusaku was alive and they went to visit a brothel together. Once he suggested Yuusaku were to have fun with the women there, Yuusaku refused, apologizing and Ogata let him go, making sure he wasn’t seen by others.

There are just some minor differences:

- In the manga, when Ogata asks Yuusaku to come with him, Yuusaku blushes. In the anime he doesn’t.

- The anime adds a scene in which one of the women caresses Yuusaku’s hand.

- In the manga Yuusaku sweats before answering to Ogata. In the anime he doesn’t.

My two cents: Okay so I liked the run on the ghostly sled, with that odd red colouring which I think was inspired by the cover for vol 17.

Even the idea of Yuusaku’s blood spraying all around is somewhat well done in it’s creepiness.

The transition to the flashback is well done with the camera moving on Ogata’s eye which close and open and then we see Yuusaku in the flashback.

Yuusaku’s voice is always very kind and the music, while not great, well underlines the mood of the scene. I like the choice to make a beautiful very starry sky, which seems to imply hope. Yuusaku doesn’t blush but his joy at having been invited is evident. The scene at the brothel sets up the atmosphere perfectly, with Yuusaku greatly uncomfortable as Ogata goes on. The first clenching, the lips trembling, the exhaling, everything is perfect.

THE OROK/UILTA CAMP

Manga and anime: Kiro’s group reaches an Orok/Uilta camp of a relative of the men that were with them. Asirpa helps Ogata getting down from the sled while Shiraishi observes. Once inside the tent she uses Ainu remedies to try to get Ogata feel better. An Orok/Uilta shaman also joins them trying with his music, to chase away the illness, with Asirpa and Shiraishi helping to make the healing music.

There are minor cuts and changes:

- The anime expanded the scene in which Asirpa helps Ogata, adding Ogata almost falling then slowly walking toward the tent, supported by Asirpa.

- In the manga Shiraishi merely observes the scene, his face shadowed, sweating a little. In the anime he also lowers his head and turns away his gaze, as if torn.

- The anime added an image showing Shiraishi and Asirpa listening to Kiro’s explanation.

- In the manga we see an image of Ogata sweating and, next to him, Yuusaku. In the anime we see Ogata sweating and then, among the steam, appears an image of Yuusaku all curled up, and then Ogata’s eyes.

My two cents: The scene of Ogata having troubles standing is well handled, they almost had him fall and then walk really slowly which is perfect. I also like how they delivered Shiraishi’s inner turmoil. It’s also good how they transitioned from Shiraishi and Asirpa listening to Kiro to them making noise as loud as they could. Sure, the scene of Ogata saying ‘silence’ is a bit less funny as Tsuda Ken delivers it in a sick yet creepy way but it works well. I’ll even go so far as saying that the way the anime chose to make Yuusaku appear during the music scene is better than the one of the manga.

THE SECOND HALLUCINATION/FLASHBACK

Manga and Anime: We’re back at the brothel, with Ogata sitting alone with one of the girls when he’s reached by Tsurumi. At this he sends the girl away and makes his best to look proper. Tsurumi comments the rumours on Yuusaku’s personality seem to be true, Ogata counters he was probably frightened by the atmosphere and insists he can manage to deceive him. Tsurumi says if he has a strong sense of justice it would be difficult to get him on their side, after all Yuusaku comes from a noble bloodline, which pushes Ogata to reject the notion of ‘noble blood’.

There are minor cuts and changes:

- In the manga Ogata’s face is deeply shadowed when Tsurumi says Yuusaku has noble blood. In the anime it’s not but they add Ogata’s eyes widening and then lowering.

- In the manga the shading on Ogata hinted at how he was in an emotional turmoil. No such hint there’s in the anime.

My two cents: This too is well done. I must praise Tsurumi’s voice actor because he’s great in delivering his quotes and we own to him most of the success of the scene but a good moment is also when the anime had Ogata’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of noble blood, showing how Tsurumi hit the mark and then lowering, showing how that remark hurt. Good is also the pause before Ogata delivers his quote.

THE ANIME PLACES HERE AN EYECATCH

SHIRAISHI, ASIRPA AND KIRO’S TALK

Manga and anime: Shiraishi leaves the place with an excuse and manages to lead Asirpa to follow him. Once she reaches him he tell her to escape with him. He believes Kiro took them there to try to get Asirpa to remember the key and that’s why Shiraishi kept silent but now he believes it’s too dangerous to stay in Russia. Shiraishi explains her his reasoning but Asirpa insists she’s staying. Kiro joins them, explaining them his old name was ‘Yulbars’, which was his past and why they killed the emperor. They’re fighting for minorities which includes his son and the Hokkaido Ainu. Asirpa says she wants to know more about her father and that she might remember the code then wonders if the killing to get the gold will continue with an even bigger killing once the gold is found and wonders if the gold really need to be found.

There are minor cuts and changes:

- In the manga isn’t clear if they are or not but the anime showed how Shiraishi and Asirpa were still making noise, albeit more calmly.

- In the manga Shiraishi points out to how there should be someone watching them as Kiro killed the emperor 20 years ago yet the Russians were right there to wait for them and that the Orok/Uilta man had almost be killed. Plus he mentions how when in the past they asked Kiro what Wilk might want to do with the gold, Kiro said he didn’t know but it was a lie as he had to know Wilk wanted to use the gold to fight against Russia. Kiro had to know as they killed the emperor together so it’s possible Kiro’s aim is the same, which was what Inkarmat was saying. In the anime he says one Kiro is hiding things from them as he and Wilk were trying to steal the gold to fight Russia.

My two cents: I liked how they remarked Asirpa and Shiraishi were still playing for Ogata... not so much how Shiraishi’s entire reasoning got cut but I get the anime needed to cut here and there to save time. I also like the transition in which everything turns to blood which rises toward Sugimoto’s image as well. I was curious how the anime would have handled this and I’ve to say they did it really well.

CHAP 160 ENDS HERE.

BATTLEGROUNDS

Manga and anime: Russo-Japanese war. Yuusaku, holding the flag, encourages men to march forward. Later Ogata is alone shooting Russians who wanders on the now empty battlefield. Tsurumi approaches him telling him Yuusaku is brave and everyone loves him. Ogata summarizes he doesn’t have to kill him.

There are minor cuts and changes:

- In the manga the two panels showing Ogata during the battle show him aiming. In the anime only the second does and between the two there’s an image of Yuusaku.

- In the manga we see Ogata shooting then a Russian falling, Ogata recharging, then another Russian falling then Ogata recharging. In the anime we see a Russian falling, Ogata shooting, another Russian falling, Ogata recharging.

My two cents: The transition here is a tad abrupt. I’ll admit the anime managed to deliver the general madness of the war, with soldiers drunk on the belief they won’t get hit due to Yuusaku. Sure, I would have appreciated less still scenes during the battle but whatever, at this point I guess the anime thinks they’re cool. The transition from the battle to the empty battleground work well and the dialogue between Ogata and Tsurumi is well done. I’ve to admit I like very much the contrast between Tsurumi’s voice and Ogata’s but it might be just me.

AT THE OROK/UILTA CAMP

Manga & Anime: Ogata is sleeping, Asirpa cheeks his forehead and comments his fever has gone down. As Kiro thanks the shaman Asirpa is gifted with a protective charm for Ogata. They give a protective charm to Shiraishi too, for a child’s penis.

There are minor cuts and changes:

- In the manga a box explains what the headband is for. In the anime it’s Asirpa who does so, saying it seems to work.

- In the manga the protective charms are shown in a box. In the anime the shaman shows them.

- In the manga Kiro says that they’re going to give that charm to Shiraishi because he was staring at a woman’s breast while she was feeding a baby. In the anime this is cut.

My two cents: Not bad. They’ve to adapt some things as they decided not to use the narrator but I’ll say it works just fine.

THE LAST FEVER DREAM

Manga & Anime: It’s night and Ogata and Yuusaku are walking on the now empty battleground, ogata leading Yuusaku somewhere. Yuusaku worries they’ll get scolded if they’re discovered. Ogata shows him a prisoner of war completely tied, then points out since he got there Yuusaku had never killed anyone and wonders if he’s using his role so as not to get his hands dirty. At Yuusaku’s denial asks him to kill that man and Yuusaku explains him his father told him not to kill so he would become an icon that would give them courage because killing fills others with guilt. Ogata says nobody feels guilt, they’re merely faking it, everyone doesn’t and is the same as him. Yuusaku hugs him and, crying, tell him he’s sure Ogata feels guilt as it’s impossible for people who not feel guilty when killing to exist.

There are minor cuts and changes:

- In the manga Ogata’s face is shadowed as he asks Yuusaku if he had ever killed someone with a darker shadow falling on his eyes. In the anime it’s not.

My two cents: This too is a good transposition. It’s faithful to the manga, it well used the corpses around them to make atmosphere, the voice actors generated a nice contrast between Yuusaku being so emotional and Ogata so calm and flat… yet as if he had something bubbling under the surface. If I’ve to nitpick I can say I’m a bit annoyed at the anime using a still image again when showing Yuusaku in ‘action’ and that Yuusaku hugged Ogata a tad too slowly so it felt a bit odd. Also the background music is nice and fitting but it would probably work better if it was on a higher volume as otherwise it can go unnoticed. Still, this is good.

THE END OF THE FEVER DREAM

Manga: At the next charge Yuusaku gets shoot from behind, the implication being Ogata did it. Yuusaku falls. However he’s then standing again and turning toward Ogata. Only it’s actually Asirpa as Ogata has woken up from his fever dream.

Anime: At the next charge Yuusaku gets shoot from behind, the implication being Ogata did it. Yuusaku falls. However he’s then standing again and turning toward Ogata. Ogata wakes up and Asirpa turns toward him.

My two cents: And this is where the anime screwed up BIG TIME. The whole implication of the scene wasn’t that Yuusaku, despite the bullet going through his head and the fact he had fallen stood up again to turn and look at Ogata… it was that as Ogata was about to wake up he saw Asirpa turning toward him but at first he exchanged her for Yuusaku turning toward him. How anime viewers are going to understand Ogata’s meltdown on the ice if they aren’t told Ogata has subconsciously superimposed Yuusaku and Asirpa’s images? I could give the anime a pass for not figuring it when Ogata started hallucinating Yuusaku, as that one wasn’t that easy but this wasn’t so damn hard to get, the page with Ogata and Yuusaku and the page with Ogata and Asirpa are drawn so similar exactly because you have to get this point! Really, if it wasn’t for this single one mistake this episode would be SO GOOD! Why did they have to mess up this? When Asirpa turns and Ogata is staring he doesn’t look like he’s surprised to see her, it looks like he had been frozen there ages ago and isn’t defreezing yet. -_- Well… at least they understood the Yuusaku who turns isn’t real as he starts to have the red tinge of the hallucination. Ogata’s pose as he watches him though is a bit unnatural and if it was made in an attempt to mimic the one he had in the manga, in the manga his pose was hardly visible so it could work while here it feels off.

CHAP 155 ENDS HERE.

FORTUNETELLING

Manga & Anime: The Orok/Uilta divine the fortune for Kiro’s group using the shoulder blade of a reindeer. The result is someone is coming from behind. Shiraishi wonders if this is a good or bad sign and Kiro says it’s good then shows him the shape the crack should have to point out someone is going to die.

There are minor cuts and changes:

- In the manga they showed the various cracks all in a box, in the anime the showed them on the screen one after the other.

- In the manga Asirpa has a doubtful gaze (Asirpa has a long story of not believing in divination), in the anime she’s just serious, then seems to squeeze her eyes a little as if in thinking.

My two cents: It’s nicely done, except maybe for the lack of Asirpa’s disbelief but I fear the ones behind this episode might not remember it (or since they made that horrible prophetic dream at the end of ep 24 they want to retcon Asirpa as believing in this sort of things).

THE TRAVEL RESUME

Manga & Anime: Kiro’s group is ready to leave the Orok/Uilta. Kiro apologizes for the troubles then tells Shiraishi he’ll remain there as yes, staying with Kiro would put him in danger and he doesn’t need to escape from him. Ogata agrees they’ve no reason to stop Shiraishi and Asirpa thanks him for what he did and says goodbye to him. Shiraishi watch them leave, thinking a smart move would be to join Tsurumi but… ultimately ends up running after them as Sugimoto told him he was counting on him to protect Asirpa. Shiraishi joins them saying he thinks in Russia there could be many pretty girls waiting for him and that if penis were to hurt he can use his charm. As he says so the shoulder bone crack further, showing the sign that was meant death of one of them.

There are minor cuts and changes:

- In the manga Kiro looks a bit sad when he says Shiraishi doesn’t have to run away from him. In the anime he’s just serious.

My two cents: I really liked the way Asirpa greeted Shiraishi. Her expression was sweet and her voice actor did a good job. The musical background this time was more noticeable and worked better. They also took care to keep Shiraishi moving and expressive as he explains his plan. Shiraishi running after them is a beautiful moment (too bad the flashbacks aren’t up to the same quality but whatever, they’re from the second series) and Asirpa’s expression and voice as he sees him is beautiful. I like how they showed Kiro smiling too and the way he asked Shiraishi if he changed his mind. The ending with the bone cracking came out powerful so it’s really good.

TO SUM IT ALL

I think this is probably THE BEST GK episode of the 3rd series, if not of all the series. Not only it’s a good transposition of the story, but it’s one that’s not rushed and that uses the times in the right manner, with a good animation and a good care of the character expressions plus a good storytelling and an attempt to use the music that needs to be improved but shows an initial care. Really, a good work. So I really hate how they missed the tie between Asirpa and Yuusaku, which was an important part for the future developments. I could pass over how Vasily didn’t shoot 6 bullets, it’s not clever but whatever, it does no harm if Ogata tempts fate more than necessary or if Vasily is actually more careful than in the original but this.... this wasn’t meant to end here but be tied to the ice field scene and now... not it won’t be, which makes me wonder if the writers are regular readers of GK or just read the bit they need to transpose, and so it’s harder for them to figure out the characters and what they’ll do. Whatever, except for this, it was a good episode, I would love if they were to fix the mistakes in the dvd version though I don’t dare to hope they’ll do it in this case and now I really, really hope the series will manage to keep this standard and, if possible, to improve it.

And also that it won’t completely and utterly screw up the ice field episode. Really. Please, no.

#Golden Kamuy #Ogata Hyakunosuke #Asirpa #Kiroranke #Shiraishi Yoshitake #Hanazawa Yuusaku #Hanazawa Koujirou #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Sugimoto Saichi #Golden Kamuy Manga vs Anime

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ikeromantic · 4 years

Text

Doll

Day 9 of Ikemektober

I chose Jonah for this one. Sweet and fluffy! Approx. 1200 words.

With a title like the Queen of Hearts, you would think the eldest Clemence would have one. But no. Instead, he lords over hearts, seeing them as worthless trinkets bought and sold with fancy gifts or five minutes of faked affection. It didn’t matter that he was beautiful, with his perfect little lips. His brilliant amber eyes. Hair that fell like liquid silver.

Alice swallowed. He was an arrogant, demanding, gorgeous, frustrating jerk! This was the bent of her thoughts as she sat and waited for Jonah in his room.

Everything in here was so perfectly Jonah. Elaborate, over-decorous, and stiff. Except for the tray of macarons. Those were pretty good. Not a patch on Luka’s baking, of course, but still sweet. She snagged another one from the back of the tower, hoping the Queen wouldn’t notice how many she’d eaten already.

Her fingers weren’t as deft as she hoped, and one of the macarons next to her target teetered and fell. It rolled along the floor like a little puffy wheel, leaving a trail of frosting to its final resting place, just under the edge of the bed.

Alice set the cookie she’d grabbed down and walked over to the giant four poster monstrosity. It was easily big enough for three or four Jonahs. The velvet coverlet was a deep red, and edged in little gold tassels. She could just see a crumb from the macaron beyond them.

It was tempting to just scuff the sugary smear leading from the table to the bed, and leave the cookie for someone else to clean up. She entertained a brief fantasy of Jonah waking up to a bunch of ants in his sheets, but even though it made her smile, she couldn’t do it.

Alice knelt down, pushing the ruffles and layers of her skirt to the side so she could get under the bed. It was pretty empty under there, and dark. She spotted some dust bunnies before her eyes landed on the cookie. And just past the escaped macaron - a, a doll?

All she could make out was a stitched arm and leg, stuffed and stubby. It looked like it was wearing a Red Army uniform too. Maybe someone else left it in the room. A soldier’s child on a visit or - well, anyone other than Jonah. Alice snagged the cookie and then reached back under the bed for the little, stubby arm of the toy.

“What are you doing under my bed?”

Alice blushed. Jonah had that effect, even when his voice was sharp enough to slice carrots. Without looking up at him she said, “I dropped a macaron.” Honesty was the best policy, even when it was embarrassing.

“Just leave it. I’ll get it later.”

The words were rushed, and . . . Alice considered this carefully but . . . nervous? Had he hidden the doll here on purpose? But that would mean he knew it was here. That it was his. She grinned wickedly, and pulled the doll the rest of the way out.

“Oh, I already got it. And this.” Alice held the doll up, getting her first good look at it. The doll was definitely wearing a Red Army uniform, with stiff white pants, red striped, a white jacket with little, gold buttons, and little leather boots on its feet. The face was adorable - big, dark button eyes and a shy little painted smile. With purple hair, made of thin yarn and pinned to the side by two white clips.

Jonah’s eyes went as round as tea saucers. “What? Alice! Put that down!”

Alice declined to follow that order. She held it up, considering. “Is this - you know, I think this looks a lot like Luka.” She glanced at Jonah. His porcelain perfect face was flushed with embarrassment.

“Just give it here. And forget you saw it.” He held his hands out for it.

“Mmm, I don’t think I will.” Alice held the doll by its two little arms and wiggled it in front of her. “It’s so cute. Does Luka know you have a doll that looks like him?”

Jonah’s mouth opened and closed without a sound. He reached for the doll, but Alice lifted the doll above her head. This might have worked if she was taller than the Queen, but he topped her by more than a head. She backed away from him, still trying to keep the Luka doll away. Right into the edge of the bed. That didn’t stop the Queen. Jonah kept coming, and the two of them tumbled onto the the velvet coverlet.

“You are the most nosey, stubborn, irritating woman,” he growled. Jonah grabbed the doll, but Alice wouldn’t let go.

“I think most of that is true, but you’re one to talk! You arrogant, beau- beastly jerk!”

Jonah stopped tugging at the doll and met Alice’s gaze. He was so close their noses almost touched. “Beastly? Really?”

“Well, yeah? You tackled me to the bed and now you’re wrestling me for a doll. My hair is mussed, my dress is wrinkled -”

“And you got crumbs on my bed,” he grumped. Jonah let go of the toy and sat up, still straddling the prone girl. “Will you just give me the doll? Please?”

Alice smiled. “Well, since you asked me nicely instead of ordering me around - yes.” She handed him the doll.

Jonah smiled at it sadly and set it on his pillow. Then he stood and held out a hand to Alice to help her up.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why do you have a Luka doll, Jonah? I know he’s your brother but - it just seems like an odd thing to keep around.”

The Queen sighed heavily. “Does he say anything about me? Does he talk about me?”

Alice shook her head. “Never. He looks grumpy when your name is mentioned.”

“Still.” Jonah looked so sad as he said this, that Alice felt all her built up aggravation at him drain away. “I wish he would talk to me. I want to at least understand why he left.” He looked at the doll as if it might answer him.

“Is that why you have it? Because you miss Luka?”

“Yes. Sometimes, I really just want to talk to him. Like we did when we were little. I - I know it’s just a doll but . . . it makes me feel a little better.” Jonah looked back at Alice, his eyes shining with held emotion. “You won’t tell him?”

“Of course not.” Alice took the Queen’s hand. “Your secret is safe with me. And . . . if I get the chance, I’ll let him know you still miss him.”

Jonah’s face lit up with a sudden smile. It was so unexpected, and so different from his usual, icy expression, that it took Alice completely by surprise. Her own lips twitched into a smile, the first real one she’d given Jonah, just for being himself.

“You know, you’re really very pretty when you smile like that,” he said. His fingers brushed her cheek.

Alice felt her heart begin to race. Traitor organ. “I could say the same thing to you.”

Jonah gave a rueful laugh. “I am supposed to be seducing you, Alice. Not the other way around.”

Though she didn’t say so, Alice thought today, he’d made a good start.

#ikemektober #ikemen revolution #ikerev jonah #ikemen jonah #jonah clemence #queen of hearts #otome #otome guys #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff

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anakinthetrashking · 4 years

Text

How’s the Heart?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871853/chapters/65565265

Somehow I made it and it is FINISHED!!!! This is my fic that I wrote for @batfam-big-bang !!!!

The biggest of shoutouts and THANK YOUUUUS to my incredible betas: Ace, Skye, and Em!!! @toomanyfandoms21, @timmydrakewings, and @geekinthecorner !!!! I’ve never actually had a beta before, but for this i had 3??? You guys were so kind and patient with me and my last minute tendencies. Thank you for all your suggestions and edits!!! [heart eyes]

and then!! ARTISTS!! you guys really put your heart and soul into the pieces you made and i just,,,, want to cry,,,,THAMKKKKK YOUUU!!!! keep being awesome! im love u: Butter, Dean and Lucy!!!!!! @heybabybird, @greenbean-riverdean, and @houser-of-stories !!!!!

Its a Tim-centric 3+1 Three times Tim is helped or comforted by his family, and one time where he's doing pretty alright. (TW: Depression, Anxiety, Suicidal thoughts, etc! full tags on ao3)

1) Here I am to Share the Fear (Tim & Damian & Dick) Bruce is back and everything seems to be going well- so of course old fears pop up again. Damian notices his absence and tries is best in his own way to offer some comfort.

2) Fly Towards the Calm (Tim & Steph & Cass) Steph notices that Tim's failing at basic self care again, so she declares Movie Night. She and Cass try to remind Tim that he needs to take the time to care for himself and not just continue pouring himself out on behalf of others.

3) Night Will Come But Not to Stay (Tim & Bruce) Turns out catching the Clench and loosing his spleen have more lasting effects than they thought. Tim tries to ignore and push past his new found limitations, Bruce notices that something is off and is there for the inevitable breakdown.

+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale (Tim & Alfred) A rare event of relaxation, the Waynes have a picnic at the manor. Alfred worries about his family, but for now, it seems like everything is alright.

Read it under the read more or on AO3 !

Here I Am To Share The Fear

Too much. Everything was too much.

Bruce was finally back, and Tim was glad that everyone was so happy - despite them all being wrong.

Wrong.

WRONG.

He shook his head and put a light smile on his face, trying to focus on the conversation in front of him, but Dick was so loud. And there were far too many people in the mansion - in the same room - Tim swallowed and grit his teeth against the feeling of his organs crawling up his throat.

There were eleven people in the room.

Ten roses in the flowered centerpiece on the buffet table.

Nine cups scattered about the room.

Eight candle flame shaped light bulbs in the chandelier.

Seven white socks (why was Dick only wearing one?)

Six voices in variating clarity.

Five… Five? Five fingers on each hand.

Four windows, none open.

Three lamps, all unlit.

Two doors.

One exit. Viable exit, at least.

Zero people looking at him. Perfect.

It was time for him to go, so he took his exit as quietly as possible, noticing the volume of the crowd drop as he walked out. No one stopped him. No one seemed to notice. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Good. That- that was something he could deal with.

As he fled to his room, he couldn’t help but notice how alive the manor was. So many lights were on, even in empty rooms. Little things littered the place as if people actually lived here. A book on the table here, ready to be picked up and read from where they left off. A suitcase full of clothes there, waiting to be unpacked. Doors open instead of closed and locked. Bed covers turned down, ready to welcome them home.

Tim reached his door and saw the life that had flooded there as well. Posters, pictures of family and friends covered large portions of his walls. Little trinkets given to him were lovingly placed around his desk. It was more than he could take, so he ran. He ran and ran through hallways and past open doors until the warmth of the occupied portion of the Manor turned to the chilly halls of the guest wing. Back in the furthest unused room is where he finally stopped, willing his heart rate to slow down.

The room looked like something out of a book, everything covered with sheets and layered with undisturbed dust, no signs of life. The evening light cast the room in cool tones of blues and greys, shadows soft and hazy. The attached bathroom was much the same, cold tiles sucking the heat from his feet.

Sitting down, he hugged his knees to his chest, letting the lines of the sink cabinet dig into his back. Tim stared for a while, trying not to think, and letting the clock tick a rhythm into his head.

The clock sounded so loud, and his breath seemed even louder. Nothing felt ok. Exhaustion pushed at the edges of his vision while panic seemed to well up inside of him and claw into his throat. Everything felt like it was closing in on him so he pushed back, laying on the floor and stretching his arms and legs as far as they could go. The cold seeped into him and he vaguely wondered if that’s what it felt like to die. To let your warmth bleed out into the universe. Death… was a calming thought. As humourless as that was, it forced a short laugh out of his throat.

Death would be preferable, he thought, to whatever feeling this is.

Bruce had been back for a month, and for a little while the triumph of bringing him home had been, well, satisfying. Relieving. Exhilarating.

But now, somehow, he was left feeling empty. Hollow. Carved out. His skin was pulled taut over his bones and there was nothing inside. Each day was an empty victory. A consolation prize. An uphill battle against an unseen enemy.

Eating, drinking, getting dressed, sleeping, showering, all done out of the necessity of existence. But most of the time he didn’t feel like he existed at all. Just a doll or a robot - there, but not really. Tossed aside until needed again. Some sort of empty, semi-existent thing. It felt too much like being five again and waiting by the phone for that occasional Sunday call from his parents.

A single tear slipped out, unbidden. It left a quickly cooling trail in its wake.

Everything is so stupid. Tim thought, frustrated by his own stagnancy, willing himself to just do something, instead of just lying there considering the logistics of several stupidly lethal ideas. He was working on kicking out the thoughts when he was distracted by the sound of light, purposeful footsteps. Damian. With footsteps like that it meant he was trying to be considerate. Creepy.

“What do you want?” Tim sighed.

“Drake.” Tim could feel rather than see the curt nod Damian gave him. “Pennyworth brought out those blueberry scones you seem to favor. However, you were not present. So I…” His self-assured tone faltered.

Tim turned to look at him for the first time. “You came looking for me?”

“I would hardly call it looking. You frequent a few spots and the conclusion was obvious by the number of people that are currently within the Manor.” Damian sat cross legged on the floor, pushing a scone into Tim’s hands.

“But why would you…?” Tim sat up, arching an eyebrow.

“It is only natural to know your enemy, Drake. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Damian sniffed and waited for Tim to take a bite. Then he continued. “Then you will best know how to poison them.” A (dare Tim say it) friendly smirk showed itself on Damian’s face.

Tim snorted, and for once they seemed to have gained a sort of mutual understanding.

They lapsed into silence again. Damian shifted, obviously wanting to say something but didn’t know how. The expression on his face looked so scrunched that Tim almost wanted to laugh.

Instead he asked, “Is it still unbearably loud out there?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “With Grayson in the room? Obviously.”

Somehow Damian seemed even more frustrated. There was a good chance that any moment now he would jump up and leave, but not before throwing out an insult to cover his wounded pride at having to retreat. In his own way, he was trying to offer an olive branch, and as tired as Tim was, something in him couldn’t let that opportunity pass. He could almost hear Dick’s voice in his head, telling him that if he would just talk with Damian, have a conversation, maybe they could find common ground.

For once, he could see the clumsy effort that the brat was making, and he knew deep down, more than anything they both yearned for warmth. Not the sort of warmth that contrasted the grounding feeling of the cold tile beneath him, but the warmth of human connection. The numbness that had been growing in him twisted at that thought and he decided to take a chance.

“It’s nice to have everyone around, but…” he glanced over to try to gauge a reaction, “I can’t seem to settle into it.”

A sort of recognition, reflection, sparked in Damian’s eyes at that, and some of the tension began to leave his body. Tim continued.

“I guess it’s just that there’s always been something. If I do well enough in school, maybe my parents will take an interest in me. If I become a better Robin, maybe Batman will go back to normal. If I bring Bruce back, maybe we can all be happy again… But it never works. It’s never enough, and now- now there’s just… nothing.”

A few moments passed, and Damian’s own internal battle ended as he found the words to reach out in return.

“I, too… Mother’s time was very limited. I trained and studied hard for any extra moment of time or nod of approval she could give… and after Father denied me, it was much the same, trying to rework standards and limits for his approval. Not having something specific to work towards does indeed seem… disconcerting.” Tim searched his face and found sincerity there, though his eyes seemed to be distant as he turned away.

Damian once again found himself at a loss for words, so he thought about what Grayson would do in such a situation. A hug was… out of the question, but- he lay his hand in-between the two of them, palm open. This, he supposed, he could do. Tim took it, surprising them both. Damian’s hand felt almost unbearably warm after the cold of the tile floor.

They sat again, together, in silence. It was more companionable, though still awkward and stilted in ways neither knew how to fix.

“There’s nothing more I can do for this family. There’s nothing I can think of.” The silence stretched before them, and Tim hesitated to put his fear into words.

Finally, he whispered, “ There’s no excuse for me to stay now.”

Damian’s face whipped around to face him. “As usual, you are wrong, Drake.” He scoffed, “Don’t you know you can’t choose who your family is?” pausing, he let go of Tim’s hand and stood up, turning to leave. “You’re stuck with us whether you like it or not.”

Quick but light footsteps sounded out in the hallway.

“Grayson!” Damian called, “Come fix Drake before Father requires his assistance again!” Nodding to Tim he left without another word.

Dick then came skidding around the corner into the bathroom, one socked foot sliding out against the tile. “Tim! Are you ok? What’s wrong? Why are you here of all places?”

Overly warm hands, distant eyes, honest feelings? Tim let out a deep sigh. “You should be more worried about the little gremlin. I think he’s got a fever.”

Dick tensed as if to sprint off again, and Tim held in a sigh of disappointment, knowing that Damian would be the priority, yet again. But instead of running off, Dick simply pulled out his phone and sent off a text, settling down into the spot on the floor that had been recently vacated.

“Bruce is on it.” He glanced out the doorway as if he could still see Damian storming past. “Did he-?” The question of his behavior went unsaid but not uncommunicated.

“No, we had a completely civil conversation. One might even call it a heart-to-heart, by our standards.”

“Therefore, he must be sick?”

“Other signs, too. But yeah.”

The buzz of an incoming message confirmed it, but Dick put his phone away instead of typing out a reply.

“A heart-to-heart, eh? I always knew you guys could get along if you just tried talking.”

“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” Tim shot a glare at Dick who was failing terribly at trying to look affronted at the very thought, “but it does seem like we are a lot more alike than I realized.”

“Who would’ve known?” Dick teased.

“Never mind, just say I told you so next time.” Tim grumbled. “Anyway, it seemed like he was really trying, and that he wanted to help in some way. I guess I just couldn’t ignore that.”

“Yeah.” Dick had his proud big brother face on. “I'm glad you guys are finally getting along. What did you talk about?”

“Oh, you know, feeling worthless without having something to focus on, questioning our places in people's lives, the usual. “

“That does seem to be a common theme in our family.”

“He called me family,” Tim murmured. “Or, well, he implied it. But for him, that’s basically saying it.”

“Tim, that’s…” Even Dick looked astounded.

“Unbelievable?”

“No, not unbelievable.” He chided. “But definitely surprising.”

“That’s one way to get me out of a bad mood, I guess. I was so surprised that it jarred me right out of my own downwards spiral.” Tim closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “Most everything still sucks, but that’s a bright spot, at least. My therapist keeps telling me to look for those. I guess I have another one to add to the list.” He turned his head to share a small smile before standing up to stretch. “That and Alfred’s blueberry scones. I sure hope there’s some left.”

Dick matched his smile with a blinding one of his own and reached over to ruffle Tim’s hair.

“You know, if you ever need to talk-“

“I know.” Tim bumped his shoulder into Dick’s. “Thanks, Dick.”

Fly Towards The Calm

“Think fast!” Stephanie’s entrance was about as subtle as a stampede. She must have been hanging out with Jason lately. As the door behind her swung closed, she tossed a tightly, carefully wrapped package at his face. He caught it with one hand as he finished reading the last paragraph of the proposal he was looking over.

“Evidently I’m the Wayne family errand boy now,” she whined as she jumped up to sit on his desk. “I drove the brat home from school and got enlisted by Alfred to deliver food to your sorry butt.”

“You could have said no.” he muttered. Peeling back the folded wax paper revealed a tuna fish sandwich, exactly how he liked it, though a bit squished from being thrown across a room.

“Refused? Alfred? Are you joking?” she asked, over dramatically taken aback. “Besides, I was rewarded with my own delicious sandwich and not one but two cupcakes.”

“Two?” his eyebrow raised.

“Well, he only gave me one, but generously allowed me to snatch a second. I didn’t eat yours because I’m nice.” She dropped the rest of his lunch on his now closed laptop.

“Indeed, I shall never be able to repay your kindness,” he said around his own mouthful of sandwich.

“You got that right. Anyway, Cass and I are gonna have a night on the town tonight, wanna come with?”

Tim hummed in agreement.

“Great! I’ll text her. You should probably get a nap first though. Come on, you can eat on the way.” She popped the last bite in her mouth and hopped off the desk.

Gathering his things, he glanced at her in amusement. “Alfred put you up to this, too?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you even have to ask?”

Looping her arm in his, they headed to the door. He noticed a slight hesitation in her steps and turned to find her looking at him funny. But she just shook her head and let whatever it was, be.

Until they got in the car, of course.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she sped down the road she asked, with a tone he couldn’t quite decipher , “Did you use my dry shampoo?”

His mind ground to a halt. Of all the questions he thought she’d ask, that was not one of them, and for the life of him, he couldn’t reason out why. They constantly borrowed each others’ things without issue, and for that matter, so did the rest of their mismatched clan. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he needed that nap after all.

It had been a minute, maybe he should answer the question.

“Got my own bottle.” He said carefully, “Seemed useful.”

“Hmm.” God, now she sounded like Bruce. How many odd habits had she picked up from them?

“Tim…” she sounded soft and hesitant, as if he were fragile. He hated when they did that. “When’s the last time you took a shower? Or ate a full meal?”

He contemplated it with a hum. “Patrol,” he said finally.

Stephanie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel for a moment. “Has it been bad lately?”

“What? …Oh.” Oh. “Not… really? It’s just been numb. Quiet. A bit like the way everything is muffled when you’re underwater.” A bit like drowning, he left unsaid.

She nodded and made a sudden U-turn. When he looked at her in askance, she shrugged. “We’ll patrol together another night. I’ll update Cass when we get to my apartment, but go ahead and text Alfred now. We’re going to have a self-care night with movies and facemasks and whatever other dumb indulgent Pinterest crap I can think of.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue but found he was too tired to care and yawned instead. “Nap first?”

“Shower first. Then nap.”

[BREAK]

He woke the moment she opened the door and turned his head to meet her gaze as she poked her head in with a grin.

“Ca-“ he broke off in a yawn, “Cass!”

With a quick glance behind her, she continued into the room, holding out a steaming mug. Tim sat up in bed, gleefully accepting it as she sat down next to him.

“Coffee,” he sighed in delight.

“Coffee.” She agreed with a solemn nod.

The silence was comforting as they sat there, leaning against each other, Tim soaking in the rare precious moments where he wasn’t rushed, or pulled this way and that. Reaching the bottom of the mug, he set it aside, wrapping his arms around his sister instead.

“You are a blessing upon humanity,” he said, “we don’t deserve you.”

She laughed and tightened the hug. The moment felt just like flying free above the streets of Gotham, and the thought of staying in for the night felt right. Cass pulled away just enough to look at him face to face, an amused twist to her lips.

“You smell like a Steph!” Squeezing him once more, she slipped away and was halfway out the door again when she turned as if she had just remembered something. “Oh!” her smile turned sly, “Decaf!”

“Hey!” He jumped out of the bed to catch up with her, but when he rounded the hall into the living room he was stopped in his tracks.

It seemed that somewhere in between dropping him off at her apartment to take a nap while she met up with Cass and “gathered necessary supplies”, and returning with said supplies, the original objective had been lost.

“It looks like you brought back half the manor’s supply of blankets and robbed a concession stand… and is that the old DVD case? I thought I got rid of that.”

“Yeah. Me and Dick saved it! Having everything digital may be convenient, but having a physical folder of DVDs just feels right!”

Tim suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and decided to leave the debate of Digital vs. Physical for another day.

“Anyway, you’re up just in time to help us set up the blanket fort!”

An hour later found the living room unrecognizable under the piles of pillows and draped sheets. Tim and Steph stood in the kitchen sorting snacks and discussing the night’s activities.

“-and then there’s this green tea and honey one that’s really great, very soothing-“

“Steph, you don’t have to explain them all to me, you know I’ll always let you test your facial concoctions out on me,” he cut in.

“Of course I know that. I’m not rambling about them for my benefit- I’m rambling about them for yours”

A head tilt was his only reply.

“Ok, let me try to explain this in a different way.” she put down her phone to look at him. “Tonight, Cass and I are going to attempt to teach you how to take care of yourself.”

“I know-”

“Not in the way that you’ve done or that you know. Your version of taking care of yourself is to fool the cameras, the public, to fool Batman into thinking that you’re at your best.” she shoots him a look. “You’re not. You’re running on fumes and you can’t fool your family.”

“Taking care of yourself is NOT finding the lowest number of hours of sleep that you can ‘function’ on.” She makes quotes in the air with her fingers. “It is not replacing a meal with a power bar, even if the calories are the same! It’s not only taking showers when you have to leave the house, or shutting yourself in to do casework all the time!” her hands fly up in the air and she huffs.

Taking his hands in hers she looks him square in the eyes before saying more softly, “Self-care is eating full, balanced, Alfred-cooked meals as often as you can. It’s doing your laundry every week and brushing your teeth twice a day. It’s taking naps even when you would literally rather be sorting through the 5-year backup of paperwork in R&D. Or better yet, getting a full 8-10 hours of sleep regularly! It’s looking in the mirror and saying to yourself, everyday, ‘I am good enough. I am worthy of and deserve all the love me friends and family try to give me.’

And tonight! Taking care of yourself is having a spa night with Cass and I while we watch anime movies and eat copious amounts of junk food, because we all know that patrol burns an extra 2,000 calories anyway! Plus, we can look at the Affirmations board I have on Pinterest! Cass likes practicing saying them while she beats up bad guys. Says the look on their faces is priceless.”

“Funniest one, I said, ‘I aspire to be a blessing and an inspiration to others.’” Cass recites popping her head out from the mass of blankets, “Guy completely stopped! Then I punched him.”

Night Will Come But Not To Stay

“I cant- I can’t do this anymore! I won’t do this anymore!”

“Promise?”

“…What?” his tears paused for the barest moment, before overflowing again. Bruce was crouched in front of him, tear tracks staining his face.

A moment ago Bruce had been standing with his back to him, untouched by Tim’s words, or perhaps instead, disgusted?

But perhaps that conclusion was wrong. As Tim searched his face now, it looked more like he was the one in pain and exhausted beyond belief.

His lips were moving, and Tim struggled to catch up.

“What?” he repeated, softly and sniffly, a cord of self-disgust lashing out within him at the pathetic sound of it.

Not just tear tracks, it seemed. Bruce was still shedding tears as he repeated himself.

“Do you promise? That you won’t do this anymore?”

Tim’s mind felt like sludge as he tried to piece together how that request could possibly fit into the context of the last few minutes.

They had been training, not so long ago. Bruce had reached out to Tim first, this time. Offered to train together like they had in the past. Tim had jumped at the chance. He should have known better.

It had been going fine, at first. Great, even.

But his insomnia had been worse than usual this past week, and his other symptoms had been acting up, too. In response to the lack of sleep, maybe, or just the continued pattern he had observed, gradually worsening over time.

Honestly, it was probably a great big mix of things.

But he hadn’t been willing to cancel - not the first thing that he had actually been looking forward to in… too long to think about.

So, he’d shown up anyway, his body begging him to just rest.

They’d warmed up and started sparring.

Well.

It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes of sparring, and his body went from begging to outright rebellion.

He went down and couldn’t get back up.

And for some stupid reason, Bruce had decided to yell at him to get up.

So, he yelled back.

Yelled.

Screamed.

He’s not even sure what all he said, just that this last added bit of disappointment piled atop the ever-building terror of symptoms and lit the fuse that exploded within him and stole the earth from under his feet. It ripped through him and tore out his throat, multiplying as his view was constrained to the back of the man he respected most, seeming to be utterly unmoved by it all.

His obvious confusion and continued silence spurred Bruce to try to explain.

“Promise me that you’ll stop running yourself into the ground. Please.” He tilted his head to try and catch Tim’s eye. “I know you’ve been struggling, and not just lately. Alfred said you’ve seemed like you’ve been having an especially difficult time for quite a while. He said he had been meaning to bring it up to me before… and that he had tried to talk to you while I was gone, but that he couldn’t get you to stay in one place long enough to broach the subject. I know something’s going on. Tell me about it. Let me help.”

“Something’s going-? Help?” his laugh was incredulous and desperate as he dug his fingers into the mats beneath him before forcing them to relax. “No. You can’t- you can’t help me.” He scoffed. “Was this-“ he waved his hand around to try to indicate this situation that he couldn’t find words for, “this, supposed to be helpful?”

“Well,” Bruce looked a bit sheepish, “when you get stressed, I know you tend to internalize all of it. Direct it all at yourself. I thought if you had something outside yourself to direct it at instead… It had worked for-“ he cut himself off. “Well.” He said again, letting it rest a moment before continuing at a different angle. “What do you mean I can’t help you?”

“I mean, you can’t. I- I already researched it. There’s nothing- I mean, I sure had enough time. I had thought, with how tired I am, that maybe it’d help with my insomnia. You’d think so, right? But no. No. I’m still awake, but now I’m lying there, and I can’t do anything. Because I’m too tired! I’m so tired, Bruce. I thought- I thought I knew what tired was.”

“Tim, you’re not making sense. What’s going on? Why are you so tired?” he shifted to sit down and lifted his arms to give Tim a hug but stopped short, holding there, offering.

Tim fell into his arms and Bruce gathered his son as best he could.

“Turns out The Clench has permanent effects that the cure couldn’t reverse. They’re only just beginning to research it, but I’ve been tracking symptoms. Chronic fatigue and pain, nerve damage, migraines- other things they aren’t sure are connected. There isn’t a cure, and it’s gradually been getting worse. I’ve tried the suggestions though it's hardly any change: diet, exercise, rest, the basics. But it’s all just maintenance, and I can’t-“ he went limp as his eyes filled with tears again. “I can’t do the things I used to be able to. I’m barely making patrol- the rest of the day I’m in bed. I can’t do classes. I had intended- I was going to finish High School, or maybe get my GED. But I have to lay down after taking a shower. I can hardly think anymore. I have to drag myself out of bed to go to the bathroom. I used to be able to do everything, and now I can’t do anything! I can’t help you anymore! And you can’t help me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bruce pulled him closer to his chest and rested his cheek on his head, rocking them back and forth. “It’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out.”

“No, it won’t! It’ll never be ok again! Can’t you see? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think! I can’t think, Dad! What use am I now?” his voice broke and Bruce felt his heart break with it.

“Tim,” he gathered Tim’s hands in his own from where they were clutching his shirt, and planted a kiss on his knuckles, smoothing over them with his thumb. “Son, listen to me. You were not born into this world to be useful.” He stopped him before he could interrupt. “I know you like being useful. I like being useful, too. But I need you to listen to me. You are more precious to me than all the stars in the sky. Nothing will change that. When I say, “We’ll figure it out”, I’m not talking about a cure, or some way to make sure you are, quote unquote, “useful”. I mean that we’ll figure out a way for you to live a happy life. A successful life in whatever capacity that it may mean for you. When I say “it’ll be ok”, I don’t mean that I have a fix, I just mean that no matter what, the others and I will be here for you, however you need us. I mean that no matter what happens, you have a place here. You are my son. I love you.” Bruce cradled Tim close again, and their tears mingled where their cheeks pressed together.

“It’s ok. I’m here”

(+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale

Despite still being in the middle of setting things up, the picnic mood was already in full swing. Large blankets were being weighed down by pillows and baskets of assorted snacks. Tables were being laid out to hold the main meal, soon to be a large potluck. No matter how much Alfred insisted on being the one to cook it all, each attendee persisted in bringing something to share. He faintly wondered if they would run out of table space again this time ‘round.

With the majority of the tasks already accomplished, and the remaining tasks hijacked by the ever-enthusiastic young people, Alfred found himself with nothing pressing to do. He made his way over to where Tim sat, transferring water bottles and pop cans from cartons to coolers.

“As much as I appreciate the help, I do so wish they’d stop flinging cutlery across the lawn.”

Tim looked up to watch Steph and Duke and Jason for a moment, trying to suppress his own smirk at the sight of them gleefully tossing said cutlery to each other.

“I mean, it's just plastic, right?”

Alfred sighed as he sat in a camping chair set up next to the coolers. “Yes, but that’s not quite the point. The job is getting done, though, I suppose.”

They sat a moment in pleasant silence, watching as their family milled about, more relaxed than Alfred had seen in years. He hated to break the quiet, but with the entire family around lately and as busy as ever, he had hardly had a decent conversation with any of them. He worried about all of them, of course, and their shared inability to ask for help, but Timothy was an especially quiet lad, when it came to facing problems.

“How are things?”

“Well, all the drinks are already chilled, and we have plenty of ice.”

He shrugged a little at Alfred’s pointed look. “I think they’re ok.” He fiddled a bit with the boxes and tied a fresh garbage bag to the back of a cooler. “Not great, but ok. The weight, the fog… It’s lessened, somehow?”

“Your medication is helping?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a big part of it. But more than that, the way that I think about things now, it’s- I mean, obviously, it’s taken months, and ‘better’ isn’t a word that I’d use- but there’s been progress. And for once? It’s like I can let that progress just, be? I’m not sure how to explain it, really.” He leaned back to stare at the sky. “ I’m still working on things, and putting effort into it, but I guess I’m not expecting things to be fixed completely and immediately.”

Alfred hummed in response encouraging him to continue.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s still frustrating to no end. Trying to ‘let go’ of perfectionism and the control issues… Sometimes I feel more like I’m chopping off parts of myself with the issues rather than just ‘letting them go’. But I’ve been finding new ways to define myself, and it’s been more manageable lately. I can work with manageable. And when it’s not, I have people who make it bearable.” He looked off to where Bruce was welcoming their first guests. “That’s more than enough for me.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred waited until Tim met his sincere gaze, “I am so proud of you.”

The small smile Tim shot at him reminded him so much of the shy grins that were common when young Timothy had first entered their lives. Alfred’s heart ached for the many children whose smiles he had seen stolen over the years. The moment was cut short as Jason stormed over demanding,

“Tim, Steph is insisting that the 2005 Pride and Prejudice is better than the 1995 version. You have to tell her she’s wrong.”

Steph came bounding over with Duke. “What's wrong with you? Do you hate Kiera Knightley or something?”

Jason took a dramatic step back with his hand on his heart. “You should know better than to ask that question! But the 1995 version is still the better version. It's more faithful to the books! The delivery is stunning! The banter is unsurpassable! And it has Colin. Firth.”

Duke breaks in, “I mean, he’s got a point. They took the time necessary to keep as many details as possible from the book. Elizabeth’s take down of Darcy is unparalleled. When it comes to banter that’s definitely the one to watch. Also, the 2005 Mr. Bennet is kinda creepy, not gonna lie.”

“See? Duke here is a man of taste.”

“But the aesthetic!” Stephanie cried, “The finger twitch! Darcy looking like a sad puppy in the rain! Elizabeth kissing Darcy’s hand!!! 2005 is a masterpiece! Tim, you tell them!”

“Don’t look at me, I think they’re both great. Besides, I like Jane Eyre better.” Tim says.

The other three stop and stare.

“You know, that makes sense.” Duke said with an assessing look. “Personally, my favorite is the Count of Monte Cristo.”

Jason threw up his hands in defeat. “You guys aren’t even talking about Jane Austen anymore!” They all turned as another car came up the drive. “Oh thank god, Babs is here! She’ll take my side.”

Their conversation faded into the distance as they paraded back across the lawn, dragging Tim into their argument as they went.

Bruce watched them fondly out of the corner of his eye as he approached in turn.

“The Kent’s are here, save Clark. Lois says he tried a new recipe and wanted to run it past Martha first. Diana’s running a bit late, but for the most part it seems that everyone else will be here in an hour or so. How are things coming along?”

Alfred knew he was asking about more than just picnic preparations. “All is well, Master Bruce. For once, all is well.”

#bbb2020 #batfam big bang 2020 #batfam #batfam fic #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Stephanie Brown #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst and fluff #holy crap i cant believe this is finished #tw depression #tw anxiety #tw suicidal thoughts #also talk of chronic illness #part three might hit a little too close to home during current events sorry #shout out to my fellow chronic illness peeps who are grieving the loss of health #i def cried while writing it #tim drake gets a hug #also everyones in therapy btw #all is well alfred says until clark shows up with that accursed sweet tea and restarts their ongoing battle over tea #please imagine the intense eye contact across the lawn as clark sets down the sweet tea at the drinks table smugly #it wouldnt fit in the fic but it fits in my heart #also u better believe that Dev is there!!!#im just too shy to write him

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capitaine-bucket · 4 years

Text

Pillows

Bucky Barnes x reader

My Masterlist

After Bucky asked you to move in with him, in his room at the tower you were so excited. He even said you could re-decorate to make it feel more like your space, and not just his. This was where you had a problem. Bucky had never been to your room, you always went to his, so he had no idea of what you thought good decore was. You may have been a highly trained assassin but under that hard exterior you were soft, Bucky just didn't know how soft.

Your room was, for lack of a better word, a cloud. You had soft cushions, and fluffy rugs, and fairy light around the room and all over your bed frame for when you read at night. You wanted to move in with Bucky but wasn't sure how he would react to your decorating style, so you didn't change anything. Bucky didn't say anything at first, thinking maybe you were planning out the space and wondering what to get. But after a month he was wondering if you were second-guessing moving in with him.

"Doll," he came at you one night while you were both lying in bed cuddling while watching a movie. "If you're not ready to move in yet, you don't have to, I will take this at your pace."

"What makes you think I don't want to move in? who said something? was it Nat?" You responded quickly.

"No one said anything, you just haven't moved anything, or tried to make this space ours with your own personal touches, it still feels like I am here alone, except you sleep here every night," he said softly.

"I like your style, and don't have any suggestions on the decore, it looks great," you said while gesturing around his room, that very much looks like a bachelor pad.

"But doll, I want your stuff here too," he whined, "you can't tell me this is what your room looks like"

"Well, no," you meekly say

"Then on the weekend, when I'm out on the mission please bring some of your stuff up here, and decorate how you want, and if I don't like it when I come back we can make changes, but I'm sure it will look great."

"Fine," you say and turn back to the movie which is almost over.

"Thank you" He whispers in your ear, giving you a kiss

The next morning you wake up to a note on the bedside table.

"Don't forget to bring your stuff up”

Love you Doll"

~Bucky

"uggghhhh", you roll over and flop back onto the bed.

After getting up, throwing on one of Bucky's sweaters you trudge on down to the lab coffee in hand to look for some boxes to move things with.

You find Tony exactly where you expected to, hunched over the computer, talking to J.A.R.V.I.S.,

"Hey," you say and put the coffee beside him.

"Its morning already?", he states.

"Yes sir, I told you to go to bed about 8 hours ago," J.A.R.V.I.S responds

"Tony go to bed, J.A.R.V.I.S. save and shut down whatever he is working on"

"Yes, madame" as the screen turns off.

"Hey, I was working on that," Tony says as he reaches for the coffee you left. You quickly grab it.

"None of that, you are going to bed"

"Why, your not the boss of me, actually I'm the boss of you, get out of my lab." Tony quips back, while trying to grab the coffee.

"Do I need to tell Pepper," who was away on a business trip.

"No," Tony says defeated, and heads out of the lab, hopefully to bed and not the kitchen for coffee.

Now you begin you search for boxes, as you walk into the back closet you hear

"Not in there."

"Pardon?" you ask looking around for someone until your eyes land on Bruce, over in the corner.

"I don't know what you're looking for but it's not in that closet unless you want radioactive material, which I won't let you take." He says without looking up from whatever he is working on.

"I'm just looking for some boxes," you tell him

"Over by dum-e, there should be some," he shakes his head in the general direction and dum-e waves.

"Thanks"

"So you and Bucky finally moving in together"

"Yeah," you respond, sounding a little more disappointed than intended.

"You don't sound enthused"

"Well, he wants me to re-decorate, but I don't know if he will like it,"

"I'm sure it will be fine," Bruce, says looking hopeful "You two are both dark and broody, how different could your styles be?"

"I guess you say" heading back upstairs, "oh, thanks for the boxes," you should back down. You don't catch what he says back, but it was probably along the lines of "no problem"

You wander back to your room, you haven't been here in a few days so there is some dust on the shelves, but your bed is still as fluffy as ever. You jump into it landing face-first into a pillow. You hum in contentment, sleeping with Bucky is great, he is your own personal space heater, but he isn't as fluffy as your large collection of pillows.

You get up and look around the room, and start to throw stuff in the boxes, starting with clothes, Stark had made everyone's closets too big in the first place so yours and Buckys clothes will both fit in his closet. It's mostly black, no surprises here, except the super fluffy black bathrobe, you finally get all your clothes in a box, tossing in the last sweater. And Grab the boxes to head up to Bucky's room.

As you are closing your door

"Want any help," of course America's righteous man would show up, when you need assistance, it's like is spidey sense to know when anyone in the tower could use help.

"Sure," you say accepting the offer, knowing he won't let you decline, as he is already picking up 3 boxes.

"You, leavin' us or something," He asks following your lead to the elevator

"Nah, me and Bucky are just moving in together," you say as you struggle to push the button to his floor.

"Congrats," he says "So why is this happening when he and Sam aren't here?"

"Welllll, he wants me to re-decorate, and I didn't want him around when I did it so it would be a surprise," man you can lie on the fly.

"Cool, well let me know if you need any more help," he says unloading the boxes onto the floor by the closet.

"Gotcha, capsicle"

Steve slips out the door, off to defend whatever justice next. You start to put your clothes in the empty side of the closet, slowly you get all your clothes hung up and put in drawers, once you're done you step back and realize that between you and Bucky there is almost no colour in this closet at all, it's like a black hole, and you love it.

After stopping in the kitchen for some quick leftovers from last nights dinner, you go back down to your room.

Staring into your empty closet, you feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you got so much done this morning, you decide to take a break and flop amongst the pillows on your bed, and open up the book that was left on your nightstand.

After a few hours, you drift off to sleep snuggling your stuffed shark.

You wake up with droll on the side of your mouth, as you wipe it off you think "wow that's hot". You look at the clock, 11:00 blinks back at you through the dark. After careful consideration, and a quick consult with J.A.R.V.I.S., you decide everyone is tucked in for the night and it's safe to move some of your pillows and lights to Bucky's room. This is a secret mission, no one can know about your terribly soft side, Bucky is already aware that you like to cuddle, but he doesn't know what you cuddled before him.

You grab a few pillows and head up to Bucky's room, you aren't going to take them all in case this is too much and he finds it overwhelming, you still have some of your dignity.

You throw all of the pillows on the bed and consider taking some of them back to your room, maybe its too much, but as you go to open the door you hear someone in the hallway and decide to call it a night. You grab a quick shower and hop into bed.

It smells like Bucky, you grab your shark and snuggle into the pillows, enjoying being able to sleep amongst all the fluff that you missed.

You wake up early due to the nap from yesterday, you will have to work fast to get all the lights up before Bucky gets home today. You grab a cereal bar for breakfast and run down to your room, and start coiling the lights around your arm, you carefully place them in a box so they don't tangle, and throw a few of your favourite books and your super fluffy carpet.

Wrapping up the lights took longer than expected and you realize you missed lunch, not feeling hungry you decide to skip, and just get the job done.

Up in Bucky's room, you think about where to put the lights, he has a four-poster bed, so you start by wrapping around all the supports. Then you put a different strand all around the perimeter of the room, it gives it an ethereal glow. This is why you love the fairy lights, they can make even the most basic of places look magic. Looking around at your masterpiece, you adjust the pillows on the bed, as to make it look a little better, and not like a crazy person was here, you go to the kitchen for dinner.

After dinner you wander around the common area, waiting for them to come back, they should be here by now, you had been so busy all day that you never had time to worry about the mission, it wasn't difficult by any means, but you still worry about him.

Wanda, see you wandering around the living room, moving from couch to couch.

"Dude pacing the floor, isn't going to help, want to come watch a movie with me and Pietro" you agree its no good to worry about them and go join.

After 2 hours, the movie is almost over, J.A.R.V.I.S. announces

"Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes have returned."

You look at Wanda and Pietro apologetically, and run-up to the landing bay. Sam is taking off his gear.

"Where is Bucky," you ask, starting to worry

"Loverboy wanted to surprise you, but J.A.R.V.I.S. had already announced our arrival, so I'm guessing he ran to find you.

"Thanks, Sam," you yell back at him while running down the hall, "J.A.R.V.I.S., tell Bucky to meet me in his room.

"He is already there madame"

"Damn it," you say while smashing the elevator button trying to make it go faster.

"Language," Steve says while stepping off the elevator walking towards the landing bay.

"How?!, whatever," you say hitting Bucky's floor.

You arrive at the door, it's closed, you carefully open it and see bucky sitting on the floor, still in full tactical gear, with a pillow in his arms, looking around at all the fairy lights. He looked magical, he turned around as he heard the camera click, your phone pointed at him, in his glory on the floor.

"Do you like it?" you asked softly

"Doll, I don't know what I expected but this wasn't it, this is so much better, it looks like a fairy tale in here. I refuse to ever let anyone else in again, where did you get all these pillows, we may have to get more," he can't stop smiling

"Well, this is why no one was allowed in my room, it was my secret place, and now we can share a secret, also we don't have to get more, I have more in my room," you say giving him a hug and snuggling into his chest.

"Then what are we doing here Doll, we need more pillows," he says walking with you to the door.

"No" you stop him, "No one can know that I am soft like this, I have a reputation to maintain."

"Okay Doll, we will go later, but for now we are having a shower,"

"But I don't smell" you state

"Yeah but I haven't seen you in a while and..." he doesn't finish as he throws you over his shoulder, and walks to the bathroom.

After you shower and Bucky gets something to eat, you sneak down to your old room, and you two grab the rest of the pillows and sneak back up. Flopping on the bed.

"Well I would say that was a successful mission," You say while burying yourself in pillows.

"Sure was, but one question, whats with the shark," he asks while grabbing it from you.

You sit up, "I like having a little danger in my life, also they are misunderstood, and more people should get to know them before judging them"

Bucky gives you a look "Doll, you are an assassin, and a shark pillow is the danger you want in your life"

"Yes." you state grabbing it back from him, "Now I would like to sleep now"

"Okay Doll, but with all these pillows I don't think you need me anymore"

You grab him and pull the blanket over you, "No, Bucky you are the most important pillow here, you might not be as fluffy as the others, but you are the warmest and nicest and are the best to cuddle," you finish with a yawn.

"Fine, but I get to hold the shark," he says with a chuckle, that you feel vibrate through his chest.

You snuggle in and go to sleep under the soft lighting of the fairy lights, sleeping among the clouds.

#Bucky x reader #Bucky oneshot #Bucky fluff #Bucky imagine #james buchanan bucky barnes

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years

Text

Us and Andie Ch. 15

Summary: Bucky works as an Avenger because it’s what’s right. He feels he has sins he’ll never be able to make up for, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he comes across Andie, the daughter of recently divorced Y/N. The life he had once “maintained” in hopes of surviving changes as his heart warms for a tough-as-nails nurse and her wonderful daughter.

Pairing: Bucky x Singleparent!Reader

Word Count: 3064 words

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Neither of them spoke of what happened that afternoon. It wasn’t that they were keeping it a secret or that they had gone out of their way to discuss it. It was just…

It never came up.

And why worry Y/N with something that didn’t need to be discussed?

That wasn’t to say that everything stayed the same. Some things changed. Andie went to therapy now. Sam recommended it and said it would help with the nightmares, but that it was up to her in the end. It took Bucky agreeing to see his own therapist for Andie to go as well. She claimed they were, “Trauma buddies.” And it helped make it light. Better.

Bucky spent more time at the apartment. Y/N would tease him that he had ruined the fancy couch with how often he would crash on it, but sometimes she would sleep out there with him. Or Andie. Or even both.

The nightmares slowly stopped. And what became a week…and then two…turned into a month.

A month of them practically being a family.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Shh, we have to be quiet,” she whispered. “Very quiet.”

Andie was currently sitting on Bucky’s lap, eyeshadow brush in hand. She turned towards Sam, dabbing for a bit of color from the eyeshadow palette he was holding for her. Sam was grinning from ear to ear. He watched the sparkly blue and grey colors get swiped across the sleeping soldier’s nose as if Andie were trying to create a mask. A very messy one. “Can I just say,” he whispered, looking back at Y/N as she started piling breakfast on a plate for them. “Thank you for inviting me. This has been absolutely fantastic.”

“Shush!”

Y/N smirked, pressing a finger to her lips as Andie finished her work. The tween leaned back as Sam pulled out his phone to take a photo. He wanted to save this memory for…well, for blackmail. “Do you two realize how hard it is for that man to sleep,” Y/N asked, brow raised. The two shared a look before shrugging.

And Sam took his photo.

The light flashed, waking Bucky up with an irritated grunt. Wide, bright blue eyes were wide open as he sat up. The movement was abrupt, pulling a squeal from Andie. He gripped the back of the couch with his metal arm, wild eyes and hair making him look something similar to a caveman. Sam fell back, laughing and holding his sides as Andie burst into a fit of giggles. It took Bucky only a couple of seconds to realize that, between the two and their items, he had been punked.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered, groaning and leaning back on the couch. He threw his head back, looking at an upside-down Y/N. “Seriously, Doll, you couldn’t help me out?”

Y/N barely hid her smile, holding up a plate piled high with pancakes. “Was a little busy.”

“Wait,” Sam said as he lifted Andie off Bucky and set her on the floor. She took off running, hopping on the barstool, and digging into her breakfast. He followed Bucky into the bathroom, knowing the guy wasn’t going to actually keep the makeup on his face. Leaning against the doorframe, Sam asked, “Does this mean you two are official? Since you’re calling her ‘doll’ now?”

Bucky didn’t say anything as he scrubbed at his face. Water splashed on his shirt and in his hair as his skin turned bright pink. Huffing softly, he grabbed the nearest towel and dried his face. There were still sparkly remains, but at least the color was gone. “Um…” He glanced back towards the main area of the apartment, sighing softly. “No. I call her ‘doll’ ‘cause she’s my girl and I’m serious about her. But as for titles or whatever – that’s all up to Y/N.”

Sam watched him for a second, smirking. “’M proud of ya, man. You’ve really grown into the whole domestic lifestyle.”

Bucky snorted. “Shut up.”

“Nope, not going to happen. You’re stuck with me and my big mouth.”

Bucky took a slow breath, shaking his head as he joined his two favorite girls in the kitchen. He smiled when Y/N handed him the stack of pancakes. “Are these the infamous ones?” He raised an eyebrow as he took a seat next to Andie.

“Nope, those I’m saving.”

“For…?”

“Well,” Y/N leaned against the counter. “That’s what Andie wanted to talk to you about.”

“Our road trip!” Andie grinned, quickly snatching a pancake off Bucky’s plate moments before he could dowse them in syrup. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her, eyeing the pancake like he was about to steal it back.

Until he realized what they were talking about.

“Your road trip?” Bucky looked back at Y/N. “The one – “

“Where we go visit my cousin.” Y/N smiled, taking a sip from the coffee in her hands.

He could see the steam curl and twist in the air. With her smile, it was such a simple moment, but easily one of his favorites. However, Bucky frowned, knowing how important that tradition was to Y/N. “Are you sure you would want me there?”

Y/N smirked as she took another sip, shrugging. “This one isn’t up to me.”

“Nope, every December I get to pick if someone comes with and the movie and all of the snacks.” Andie hopped off her stool, carrying her plate to the sink and washing it off.

“So do I get to come,” Sam asked, stealing her seat.

A chorus of “No’s” filled the apartment.

“Man, you guys are mean.”

Andie giggled and, with a mouthful of pancakes, told Bucky, “But you can.”

-.-.-.-.-.-

“So…are you going to go?”

Bucky didn’t bother looking up from the punching bag. He struck again and again, flashes of Ethan’s, Zemo’s, and Quentin’s faces appearing with every hit. The truth was, he didn’t know if he should. He wanted to. He wanted to share that moment, but if he did, what did that imply? What impression was that leaving on Andie? And did Y/N really want him there?

“Bucky.”

Steve caught the bag, his head popping out from around it. “Don’t ignore me.”

“I’m trying to get a workout in.”

“Good for you, but this needs to be talked about, don’t you think?”

Bucky huffed, shoulders dropping as he took a step away from the bag. “What about it?”

“You know what. I’ve been friends with you for a long ass time.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “I want to.”

“So what’s the but?”

“Y/N’s wanted to take everything slow and I have been respecting that. But respecting that also means thinking about the fact that this is their tradition. Even if it’s Andie’s choices, I need to think about what Y/N wants. One of the first stories she ever told me was about this thing. It’s – It’s her favorite moment – her only moment – with Andie that hasn’t been destroyed by some outside force.” He sat on the edge of the nearest mat, resting his arms on his knees and looking up at the blonde.

“You really think you’re going to be the guy to destroy that?” Steve raised a brow as he crouched in front of him. “Bucky, I can’t think of anybody better fit for that family. At all. I mean…Bucky, they’re what you need.”

“You think I don’t know that? I…” He snorted. “I figured that out the day we found Andie throwing M&M’s in Banner’s mouth.” Bucky ran his hands through his hair, pressing his forehead against his palms. His eyes were fixated on the ground as if it would swallow him whole or provide answers. He wasn’t sure which it was that he really wanted. Looking up, he finally explained, “I can’t tell if I’m what they need. Long term.”

Steve silently watched him, realizing just how out of their element the two of them were. “Well…you won’t know unless you figure it out.”

-.-.-.-.-

It was that sentence that brought Bucky here – awkwardly standing in the middle of the Labor and Delivery floor with a bag of McDonald’s food and a frozen coffee. He remembered what Y/N had said about the coffee and cold keeping her awake. Shifting nervously from one foot to the other, he looked around. Damn it, he was an Avenger and he was freaking out because he was surrounded by pregnant women.

A lot of them.

And for some reason that made him so nervous.

“Well, there’s a familiar butt – ow! I mean…face.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder, surprised to see Ciara there with one of the other nurses. He was pretty sure that the nurse was the one who had gotten the “ow” out of her. But as surprised as he was, he was also relieved. He would have gotten lost in this place if she hadn’t made an appearance. “Ciara, right?”

“Yup, that’s me.” She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Something he wouldn’t have been expected. Noticing his puzzled expression, she chuckled and gestured to the outfit. “Not on duty. My sister is actually a couple doors down.”

“Oh! Uh – congratulations!”

Ciara giggled, gesturing for him to lower his voice. “Careful. There’s hormonal women on this floor. They don’t need to know a beefy super soldier’s here.” She led him further down the hall. “I’m guessing you’re here to see Y/N?” She glanced at the food. “Ugh. So not fair. I need a boyfriend to bring me unhealthy junk in the middle of the night.”

Bucky smiled, remembering the couple times it had been mentioned that she was a fan of “the Falcon”. He didn’t really see why, but to each their own. Maybe Y/N was right and they could be a good fit.

“I’ll get Y/N, but for now you can wait in here.”

Ciara led him inside another room. It was clearly set up to be the lunchroom for everyone. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Just make yourself at home.”

Ciara left the room and Bucky looked around. The walls were covered with different’ things for the nurses. Motivational posters, updates, events coming up – the sort of thing he would expect. However, he still felt out of place. This was where nurses came to relax and eat, avoid patients and their crazy families. And he felt like he was intruding.

“Bucky?”

He turned and smiled when he saw Y/N step in. She was clearly confused. “I…” He held up the sack of food. “I thought we could talk.”

Y/N raised a brow, her eyes shifting from the Bucky to the food and back again. “Um…okay. Yeah.”

Silence fell between the pair as they sat across from each other. Y/N laid out the food on napkins and an apologetic smile graced her smile when she explained that plates didn’t exactly exist. It made him laugh. Why would he care? He just enjoyed seeing her. That was when it clicked.

This was what he wanted.

He wanted late night hospital visits. He wanted to take Andie to therapy and sometimes pick her up from school. Maybe create new traditions the older Andie got…

Hell, maybe even adopt Andie and marry Y/N. Someday. Maybe.

Bucky wanted and needed the long term.

“Y/N…” He already knew he was blushing. He could feel the heat radiating off his face. But he couldn’t chicken out now. “What do you want from this?”

She looked up, her hand stopping moments before she could take a bite of some fries. “Uh…I’m sorry, I don’t think I follow.” Dropping the food, Y/N interlaced her fingers and rest her chin on them.

Bucky took a slow, shaky breath. Why was this so hard? He remembered the night when he held Y/N. Then, he had talked. Eagerly and easily. Right now, he felt like he was a stumbling fool. “Andie invited me to your tradition.”

Y/N slowly nodded, grabbing the coffee and taking a sip. “Yeah. It’s Andie’s birthday. She picks the guests.”

Bucky choked on the breath he had taken, coughing slightly. Y/N watched him with eyes full of amusement. “Her - Her birthday?”

“Yeah,” she dragged out. “She’s turning twelve.”

Bucky stared, completely surprised. It was her birthday. She was turning twelve. It was – She wanted him there. She…They wanted him there? “The last time we talked about us, we were trying and taking things slow. This seems like it might be more than that.” He was trying keep himself from sounding too hopeful, but that’s what he wanted to be.

“You’re asking if we’re,” she paused, trying to find the right word. “Official? Over McDonald’s?”

“I hate that word.” Bucky groaned, falling forward on the table and hiding his head behind his arms. “I swear it wasn’t this damn hard in the forties,” he grumbled against the table, earning a laugh from Y/N.

She poked his head before lightly running her fingers through his hair. “Bucky, you’re pouting.”

“Frustrated. Not pouting.”

Y/N smiled and got up, moving around the table before sitting beside him. She straddled it, crossing her arms over the back of the chair. “Bucky,” she whispered. He tilted his head, meeting her gaze as she lightly brushed his hair out of his face. Small smile crossing her lips, she told him, “We’ve been official ever since you took Andie to see Ethan.”

Bucky immediately sat up, brow furrowing. “How did you – “

“A mom always knows,” she joked, only furthering his confusion. She laughed, tilting her head as she asked, “Did you really think Ross and Stark wouldn’t tell me that my daughter broke my ex-husband’s foot?”

Bucky winced. Maybe he should have anticipated that. “You aren’t mad?”

“Oh, I was. I was pissed and ready to scream at you. Tell you to never come near my family ever again. But then I talked to Sam.” She bit her lip and he could practically see the memories playing in her head. “This was a while ago. Back when he recommended Andie go to therapy.”

“You knew this whole time?”

Y/N shrugged. “He told me about how much you’ve been worried about us. How all you wanted was to help Andie confront the guy who abandoned her, but you did it in a safe environment. Where she was able to decide what happens. I – I have never met anyone who cared about Andie as much as I do. I still haven’t, but…” She smiled, her fingertips tucking his hair behind his ear. “You’re a close second.”

Bucky couldn’t believe he was hearing this right. Y/N believed how much he cared about Andie. She knew he just wanted to look out for her. “I’m not going to ask if we’re official because we aren’t in junior high.”

She snorted, the sound turning into a fit of giggles as she nodded. “Okay.”

“But…” Bucky turned to face her, tugging her chair closer. “We’re long term?”

Y/N raised a brow. “Is that something they would ask in the forties?”

The two laughed. As much as Bucky wanted to glare at her, he couldn’t bring himself to. “Shut up,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against hers. “I know how important this tradition is for you and I wasn’t going to invite myself along if you saw me as something short term. I don’t want to mess with your memories.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Buck, you already have. I…hate thinking about a time before you were in our lives. As chaotic as it has been, I really like having you around. A lot.” She rest her chin on the back of the chair. “I could definitely skip the whole getting kidnapped, traumatic events, and seeing my daughter risk taking a bullet,” she said, trying to hide her nervousness around a chuckle. “But I like you. I like you in our lives. And I would really, really like it if you decided to come with us. So to answer your question, yes. I think we are long term.”

Bucky couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on his face. It practically hurt his cheeks with how big it was. He kissed her, unable to convey what he was feeling through anything else. His hand moved to the back of her head as she kissed him back. It was sweet. Simple. Perfect. They fit.

Their broken pieces fit.

Giggling against his lips, she asked, “So does this mean you’re coming with us?”

Bucky laughed, nodding as he brushed his nose against hers. “I would love to.”

She kissed him again. “Good. Now, I am going to steal some fries and the rest of my drink because I have to get back to work.” Grinning, she kissed his nose. “See you later.”

Bucky watched as she left the room. He knew he had the biggest, dopiest smile on his face, but there was no way in hell that he wanted to wipe it away. This was working.

When the door closed, he looked back at the mess they had made and quickly cleaned up. He didn’t need to stress out any of the nurses if they came in here to see that left behind. Tossing the last of it in the trashcan, he paused for a second. It was going to be Andie’s birthday.

It was going to be Andie’s birthday and he had nothing to give her.

“Shit…”

He leaned against the table, immediately unsure of what to do. What do you get an eleven-year-old? A girl? A mutant? His shoulders slumped as he realized just how out of practice he was. And Andie wasn’t exactly a normal kid in any sense of the word. She deserved the world. She deserved something no other kid could have.

Well, there was an option.

He pulled out his phone as he slipped out of the room. It was easy enough for him to leave the Labor and Delivery ward unnoticed despite Ciara’s teasing earlier. “Come on, pick up, kid,” he muttered as he took the stairs.

“Barnes? What are you doing calling me?”

Bucky smirked when he heard that voice. That very familiar voice. “Shuri, it’s been a while.”

“Damn right it has. And you don’t even like phone calls. So I’ll ask again. What are you doing calling me?”

Bucky grinned, glancing up the way he had come. “I have a favor to ask.”

-.-.-

@buckyssoul

@mr-robot-x

@booktease21

@amnahs9695

@lets--be-honest

@niahmariec

@purplekitten30

@mishaandthebrits

@maggyme13

@littleredstarfish

@gypsydraig

@rinthehufflepuff

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x you

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paperficwriter · 4 years

Text

A Deer Dance (Charlastor, Hazbin Hotel)

Alastor is a deer demon, and while he's never been lonely, he's not going to say no to a little doe that seems as interested in him as he with her.

Dirty Paper warning!

---

Living or dead, Alastor always did like to believe that he was one of a kind. The best of the best, and a step above the rest. And, in many ways, he was right; when he compared himself to other radio personalities, or home chefs, or, now, demon lords, that knowledge that he was better would add a skip in his step and the huge smile on his face.

He wondered if that gap that remained open between him and everyone else was the reason why his appearance was so different here. He’d never seen another deer demon before. All of the other shapes of demonic beasts were represented, certainly. Wolves. Bears. Goats. God, so many goats, it had ruined any dish with meat or milk that he might come across.

There were rumors of others, but perhaps his presence, his power, had sent them all into hiding.

That would make sense. Alastor didn’t particularly appreciate being shown up (and most denizens across the Nine Circles were more than aware of that). Just his average appearance - his dashing suit, the cloven prints of his shoes, the long fluffy tufts of his hair and his sharp-toothed grin - parted many a crowd, but in his true demonic form with its rack of horns and dead-eyed, sharp-toothed leer, most hoped to just survive the encounter.

But it was in his fairly casual shape that he went to Mimzy’s Club for a colorful event that she was hosting that particular evening. The Burlesque Revue had been all the talk across the city for several weeks before, something that was supposed to combine the lurid fantasies that were commonplace in this corner of Hell with something a little more artistic.

“Listen, if there’s gonna be stripping, ain’t nobody gonna say no to that,” he had heard one demon say as they looked at the poster of one particularly long-legged dame with a boa around her shoulders. “If they wanna make it fancy, s’alright by me, just so long as they take it all off at the end, yeah?”

There certainly wasn’t any proof that Alastor had set the unbearable dolt on fire. People combust all the time in Hell!

After all, the concept alone sounded entertaining enough for Alastor, that was for certain, but what really intrigued him the most was the rumor that the whole thing was being hosted to bring attention to some hospitality project being taken on by the Princess of Hell herself, Charlotte Magne. And if she was anything like the classical piece of art her mother Lilith was on stage, he did not want to miss this for anything.

Mimzy clearly had tried to doll up the place. There were fairy lights everywhere, and thick drapes of black and red velvet scooped down from each pillar along the edge of the club floor. An entire area had been elevated into a stage and that was littered with props and poles and bars.

“Al!” Mimzy gushed as soon as he came in, rushing over to take both of his hands. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. These people are annoying the shit out of me. I forgot how the artsy crowd could be such a bunch of divas.”

“Mim, Mim, Mim,” he tutted, “I think you just described the entire population of the here-after. The artists just happen to have practice, don’t you know?”

They laughed about that, and then someone spoke up behind him, a young, sweet voice that was so different from the raucous roar he was used to that it was almost startling. “Hey, Mimzy, I’m so sorry to bother you. Can we get a little more light on stage left?”

“What do I look like, an electrician?”

“No, but the electrician snuck into one of the dancer’s dressing rooms, and I’m pretty sure he won’t be waking up anytime soon.”

Mimzy sighed as Alastor turned to the source of the voice. “I’ll get right on it, Princess,” she groused before disappearing.

And there she was. The Heir to the Throne of Hell. What had Alastor been expecting? Someone dressed like Lucifer, probably, a mess of over-the-top vaudevillian aesthetic and an extremely untrustworthy face. And yet somehow, that horrible cretin had helped to birth the most beautiful creature Alastor had ever laid his eyes on. Even if it had just been the classy black dress, the diamonds in a cascading pattern down her neck, the silver apple tiara atop her blond hair styled in a gorgeous updo...all that would have been more than enough to catch Alastor’s attention, but then...

“Charlie. Please.” She said it like it was one of a thousand times she had insisted. And although Mimzy was already gone, her ears perked at Alastor.

Her slightly furry, tear-drop shaped ears, and a tail turned up behind her where the dress had been perfectly cut to let it out.

Another demon just like him. No, not just like him. A doe.

“Well,” he greeted with a low bow. “I’m glad I won’t be making that mistake. I will never call you by a name that is not your preference, my dear.”

She giggled into her hand, covered by a long opera glove that matched the black of her dress. “I appreciate it. And you must be Alastor. Unless you prefer ‘the Radio Demon’?”

Oh, she was a quick one. Not that Alastor was ever good at flying under the radar. “I would prefer ‘yours,’ actually.”

That got an even darker blush from her already-rosy cheeks. Her tail twitched a little bit. “That’s a title that comes with many responsibilities, Alastor,” she said through a little smile, clearly trying to keep up with him.

“Where do I send my resume, darling, because I’m always looking for a job with better benefits.”

“Well, you certainly know how to dress to impress.” Charlie bit her lip as she glanced at him up and down. Alastor knew when he was being sized up, and he let her take him in, knowing already that she was having the same response to him as he had to her. You’re someone like me, her eyes said. After so long.

“Maybe in this case,” he said quietly, stepping in close to her. “I should have left the suit at home. After all, you should dress for the job you want, shouldn’t you?”

Charlie leaned in. This close, he could see all the soft strands of fur on her ears, the pink inside. He wanted so, so much to touch them, but...not yet. There would be time and privacy for that yet. “I’d really like to continue this interview,” she whispered, “but as you can see I have a revue to oversee.”

“After, then,” he said, slipping her hand into his and cradling it. So small. Delicate. “I have a tower with an extremely quaint office overlooking the city. It’s quite comfortable, you’ll find.”

She nodded, voice breathless. “After.”

---

Charlie let Alastor take her home. If anything, Alastor thought he noticed her speed up a bit through her acknowledgements and post-show credits, now and then glancing his way. Nobody else would notice, but he could see the way her tail was flashing, how she wanted to run.

Run to him, no less.

And she did, in the huge fluffy stole that she had worn on stage after her act when her dress had been taken off and then pulled back on only as a skirt, her pale skin just showing though her breasts were hidden. He had never driven himself faster back to his Radio Tower.

The only person down in the “lobby” was Husk, and he was playing a computerized slot machine that he had won in a game with Alastor (though to be fair, Alastor let him win, because otherwise he threatened to leave altogether, and one piece of infernal technology was payment enough for service he could count on).

“Don’t wait up, Husker-chum,” he said, Charlie on his arm.

“Why the fuck would I literally ever care what you are do...do...” He trailed off in that moment. Husk had looked up momentarily from the game, catching a glance at Charlie, and his mouth just stayed in that same ‘o’ until they were in the elevator. Then, as though realizing that the moment Charlie went upstairs with Alastor it would all be over, he fell over himself running toward the quickly-closing doors. “Hey, what’s the rush?!” he asked hastily. “Let’s hang out! The night’s young! We can get some drinks or hit a bar or--” Alastor snapped his fingers, and the doors refused to open, even as he hit the button. “I’m not always great with sharing,” he said as Charlie was quietly laughing into the fur around her neck.

“Good,” she said, dropping the wrap to the red floor. She stood before him now with nothing but diamonds from the waist up, blinking at him bashfully despite the fact that she was the one who had made this quite-forward, more-than-brazen move. In the mirrored wall of the elevator, he could see her tail, soft and twitching just so. Now, now he did reach out to caress it, to run his long fingers through it. She shivered and instinctively huddled close to him. “So what were you saying about your qualifications before?”

As much as he had planned to continue their little tete-a-tete, it was hard to manage at the sight of her so natural. He pulled her out of the elevator when they reached the top floor and made quick work of getting her out of the rest of the dress. He dragged his mouth across her thigh, the little freckles there looking like the same pattern on young does.

At some point, his antlers sprang from his head, creaking slightly like branches over them, and when she sprang to his boudoir, he didn’t know how she would respond to his coming up from behind her, grabbing her waist and pressing in tight and close where she could feel the bulge in his pants.

He didn’t think she would moan and raise her tail to him, inviting him inside.

It wasn’t the only way they would have one another that night, but it was the most intense. The most instinctive, the best and only way he could imagine fucking in this form of his that he had gained. They didn’t speak, not even each other’s names, and yet he felt like he had known her for eternity before that, and that she wasn’t some mysterious woman that had just happened to fall into his life.

They didn’t even kiss until that first round was over, when she was gasping and clutching at the covers of his four-post bed, and he had nuzzled her face until it met his.

“I think,” she said softly, sometime quite a while later, her head on his chest, gold hair now free and messy all over his sheets, “we might have a position available for you.”

“Only one?” he teased as he rolled her onto her back and came back down to kissing her neck.

#my paper fics #hazbin hotel #charlastor #charlie magne #alastor #dirty paper warning #dirty paper

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