#the one with fury's big week gone wrong

[buckyalpine]

I’m going to redo this story. Here is a version I wrote that I feel is okay but I have another version in mind so I’ll write that tooo. I didn’t want to throw this away completely so maybe at least 1 person will like this 😭 @paulasocean another version is coming bb ❤️

-

"Okay, I can't for the life of me remember what happened during this mission" Nat grumbled while sitting in the conference room, catching up on paper work after Fury had demanded all mission reports be handed in by the end of the week.

"Honestly, neither can I" Steve shook his head, rubbing his temples, the past few months all melting into a blur. Everyone had been running back to back missions, prioritizing actually saving people over filling out reports. "I only filled out half of it and before I could finish, someone put it away"

"Please tell me it's somewhere in this building, I can't spend the rest of the day writing about how many time Steve jumped off a roof with zero protection" Bucky groaned, most of his mission reports consisting of all the recklessness his bestfriend did.

"Go check the records room, someone probably filed it there" Tony suggested while Bucky nodded, heading down to the very bottom of the compound where there were rooms upon rooms filled with documents on every criminal and terrorist organization to exist as well as individual cases. Steve and Nat followed, the both of them wandering through the shelves where the most recent reports were, quickly locating the latest one.

"He's this big billionaire with the most advanced technology in the world and but he's keeping records in the basement like a creepy grandpa" Nat huffed, scanning the shelves.

"You'd think he'd have these all digitized by now, given how much he loves technology" Steve snorted while Bucky remained silent, preoccupied with a different row of shelves that caught his eye. His heart hammered a little harder than usual as he looked at the five full floor to ceiling shelves that were solely for Hydra. He was sure at least two shelves would be for his atrocities alone.

"Buck, c'mon" Steve patted Bucky's shoulder, already seeing where his bestfriends mind spiraled, "Nat found what she needed, let's get out of here punk"

"Just-give me a second" Bucky murmured, opening one of the drawers and flipping through the papers, swallowing thickly at some of the agents he'd recognized, ones that had tortured him to no end.

That's when another face caught his eye.

His blood ran cold, flipping through the pages faster, hoping there was some sort of mistake.

It couldn't be.

It was your face, over and over again but under a different name.

Svetlana Petrovitch

"St-Steve?"

"What is it Buck" Steve frowned, seeing the color drain from Bucky's face, taking the file from his hands, his own eyes growing wide.

"Please tell me that isn't her"

"That's y/n" Steve murmured, not understanding where there was a file on you at all, let alone why it was associated with Hydra. Bucky grabbed the filed back before looking at others, his anxiety only getting worse. "Svetlana?"

"These aren't files on those who were taken or held captive. This whole shelf is just for agents who have worked for Hydra throughout the years. They're all Hydra agents"

Bucky needed it to be a mistake, a misprint, a file placed in the wrong section, you were his whole world, you would've told him if you were associated with hydra. His mouth wen dry, clutching onto the papers as he wordlessly made his way back up to find you.

You had been gone all morning, insisting you were just going to grab coffee but now he had his suspicions. You usually always asked him to tag along everywhere but every so often, about every two weeks, you would disappear on your own for hours on end.

He'd also hear you speaking to someone on the phone in hushed whispers but he'd never once questioned it but based on what he'd just seen, he had no idea what to believe.

Who were you.

He tossed the file onto the table as soon as he saw you in the room, the tick in his jaw worrying you. You got up, making your way over to brush his cheek, freezing when he stepped away from your touch as if it would burn him. Everyone left the room, sensing this was a private moment between you both.

"Bucky, is everything okay-

"Where were you"

"I-

"Tell me where you were this morning"

Your heart sank to your stomach, the guilt plastered on your face causing his emotional turmoil to worsen.

"I-I told you I went for coffee" Your shaky voice lacked truth, only confirming his suspicious further.

"Did you work for Hydra?"

"Bucky-

"Y/n, it's a yes or no question, were you a hydra agent or not"

"I-

The fact that you hadn't said no, the fact that you looked guilty, unable to look at him directly in the face was enough to send Bucky over the edge.

"H-how could you?!”

"James, you don't understand!-

"No. No" Bucky shook his head, tears welling in his eyes, his stomach twisting in knots. "Don't. Just don't"

"Baby, please just listen to me-

"Is y/n your name? Hm?" His eyes were red from unshed tears, a part of him still desperately hoping this was all a bad dream. That his girl, the woman he trusted with his entire life, was really who he thought she was, "Or is it Svetlana. You were part of them. You probably still are, is that why you came here? Did you pretend to love me all this time just to get me back to them? Is this what all of our relationship was to you? Find a way to get the Winter Soldier back?"

"Bucky stop!" You cried out, your voice cracking, wiping away at your wet cheeks. You couldn't get a word in as he backed away from you, shaking his head, feeling disgust and confusion at the same time. His heart yearned for you but he wouldn't be able to over come this. "Please-

"There's nothing to listen to. How-how can I ever trust you again" His throat felt like it was being squeezed shut all over again, just like the days Hydra strapped a collar on him to hold him in place every time he was wiped. "I don't even know who you are anymore. I-I love you but I can't-

"Bucky don't do this, just let me explain-

"YOU CAN'T! THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU TO EXPLAIN!" He snapped, making you flinch back. "You-you could've told me! How am I supposed to trust you?! I've told you my darkest memories and-and fuck, you would've already known, right? This was all a game to you, you would've already known everything I'd ever done. Were you part of that too? Huh? Did you also have a say in all the shit they did to me when I was under their control?"

"NO!" You shook your head, covering your ears, unable to take the words he was saying to you, never in a million years would you ever have done such a thing to the man you loved with your entire being. "Jamie, I would never, I love you, just sit down with me baby, please-

"I'm sorry. We're done. For good. I can't even look at you. You know I love you, fuck, I-do you have any way how much I love you" Bucky's voice dropped to a whisper, moving to softly cup your face in his hands, brushing away at the tears that continued to spill from your lashes. He traced his thumbs along your soft cheeks on last time, his soul feeling like it was being ripped from his body as he dropped his arms back to his sides. "But I can't do this"

He stormed out of the room without looking back leaving you torn, broken and sobbing. You ran past the others who were still worriedly waiting outside and right to your room, locking it, instructing FRIDAY to forbid anyone else from entering.

It didn't take long for you to pack all your things. You didn't have much.

You never did.

You left behind all of Bucky's Henleys that you'd stolen along with all the sweet gifts he'd bought you on your dresser; you figured he wouldn't want to see you anyway.

You had left the compound by that night.

-

Steve signed at the sight of his best friend spending another night destroying himself at the gym, dark red stains covering the leather of the nearly torn punching bag.

"No one knew?" Bucky's voice was hoarse from nights of crying and getting by on coffee and taking out his frustrations out on the gym. He'd stayed in his room for days on end, not speaking to anyone, his head and heart aching. His knuckles were split from how hard he'd been punching the bag, only to be held back by Steve who couldn't stand to see Bucky like this anymore.

"No. None of us knew anything. I spoke to Tony, those files were sent to us directly through SHIELD. When Tony ran his background checks, everything came up clear. There's gotta be more to this Buck. Why don’t you-"

"I loved her" Bucky shook his head, still feeling betrayed over all the things he didn't know. "But I can't"

Weeks went by and Bucky grew more reckless. Not having the love of his life by his side coupled by the fact that there were so many unanswered questions pushed him further and further to the edge. He hated that he still dreamt about you every night, tossing and turning in his cold bed, without you there to keep him safe and warm. You were on his mind every single day and every single part of him wanted to know where you'd gone, how you were doing, guilt starting to eat a him.

He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, jumping at you the second he thought you had strong ties with Hydra, that you were an agent yourself. He'd never even let you get a word in, breaking things off without a second guess.

To make things worse, he'd gone as far as accusing you of also being part of all the pain he'd been put through.

No one knew where you'd gone.

Except Tony.

-

"Just tell me where she is" Bucky ran his hands through his already messy hair, pacing up and down Tony's office while the billionaire sighed. "Please"

"I can't. She asked me not to and I can't break that Barnes. Plus you broke up with her, it's not like she left cause she wanted to"

The guilt that was already eating at him only worsened as he sat down in defeat, angrily wiping his face.

"Is there anything you can tell me? Something? Anything, I'll take anything at this point, I fucked up so badly"

"The most I can do is let you know if she comes back or if she wants to talk to you"

Bucky didn't press the issue more, taking it upon himself to scour the records room again to see if there was anything else on you but he came up short. There were no other files on a person with the last name Petrovitch. He never actually looked through your file properly, feeling too much anxiety from the first time he'd seen it. When he bothered to read it again, there was hardly any information, only having a few fuzzy pictures of you at the base with some other agents as well as how long you'd been there for.

There was one place he'd get his answers from.

SHIELD.

-

"Who is y/n"

"Sargent"

"TELL ME" Bucky's voice nearly shattered the glass, causing Fury to flinch while the others took a step back. After Tony didn't reveal your location, Bucky went straight to the head office, his brooding glare alone getting him instant access to the top floor. The team accompanied him for moral support but also to keep things under control just in case, everyone standing in the directors office on edge. "You kept this from me, from everyone here, I need to know, what does she have to do with Hydra"

Fury sighed, pulling out a thick file from a second safe, dropping it onto the table, shifting through papers before pulling out one of a picture from when you were young. Bucky recognized the twinkling eyes, his heart breaking all over again for the young little girl in the picture, lost and innocent.

How the hell did he think you'd been an agent.

"Y/n, y/l/n. Originally named Svetlana Petrovich by Hydra. Her birth mother had been used as an experiment to procreate more super soldiers in case the serum couldn't be replicated. The serum didn't take so she was rendered useless. Her mother was never seen again. Her supposed father was one of the many soldiers who had been given a different version of what Sargent Barnes has"

Bucky was frozen in place as Fury spoke, feeling absolute agony over the words he's said to you. Your broken face and pleading voice played over and over again, making him nauseous.

"Hydra kept the child in hopes of using training her into a weapon. She was cared for by a woman who was appointed to be her handler. She raised the child differently, without anyone else knowing. Don't ask me how she did it, we don't even have a name"

Everyone continued to listen in stunned silence while he spoke.

"Agent y/l/n wanted to escape but remained at the base to ensure no one hurt the woman who had taken care of her. She didn't go on any missions but she was trained to be one of the strongest soldiers they had, hence the images of her at the base with other Hydra operatives. She remained there until the woman's death and escaped the very same night. We recruited her a few years later"

"How do you know all this and why didn't anyone know" Steve stepped in while Bucky remained silent, trying desperately not to break down. Not only had you been born into the worst situation but you only remained there to protect the one person who was like a mother to you after you lost your own.

"I have my ways, Captain. She didn't want anyone to know. She wasn't proud of the fact that she'd been brought up in such a place. She left it all behind but wanted to use her skills for good. There's a reason she one of your top agents. She didn't learn those skills from just anywhere"

Bucky wordlessly walked out of the room, unable to sit and hear another word. His heart broke for the baby who'd been forced into Hydra's hands without a fighting chance. Yes, you had been raised by someone who wanted to love and care for you but you'd been tortured and trained more than anyone else and after you finally escaped with a life for yourself, he'd accused you of betraying him. He hated that he had come to Fury for answers when he could've just let you speak instead, letting his own anger cloud his judgement. He still didn't know where you'd disappeared to or who you'd be on the phone with but Bucky had to speak to you, no matter what it took.

-

"I'm only giving you her location because she sounds miserable and I'm assuming it's because she misses you. If she pulls a gun my head because of this, its on you" Tony mumbled, scribbling something onto a sheet of paper and stuffing it into Bucky's hand. "You better grovel your ass off"

Bucky couldn't care less about traffic laws as he swerved through the streets to get to you, his motorbike revving through the city till he reached a dingy looking apartment building. He frowned, double checking the address before parking his bike and walking to the lobby. Bucky made his way to the concierge, the man seemingly recognizing him immediately.

"Sargent, I'm assuming you're the boy she's been moping over" The man at the front desk gave him a pointed look, giving him a key and directing him to go to the top floor before he could even say anything. Bucky's cheeks reddened with embarrassment, nodding with a thank you before dashing off to get to you.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to find the peeling and dusty hall way empty with just one door right in the middle. His heart hammered against his chest as he shakily raised his hand to knock. He could hear shuffling on the other side, wiping his palm against his jeans when he hard the lock click open.

"Baby, I'm so sorry I- oh-mam, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong address-“

An elderly woman opened the door, her eyes twinkling as she looked him up and down, taking his metal hand in hers and pulling him inside. Bucky stood in confused silence as he entered the large apartment, which was a stark contrast to the mess it appeared to be on the outside. The interior was sleek; the apartment large enough to take up the entire floor. It made sense why the whole hall only had one door. A large living area was off to the right, decorated with a mix of abstract and modern art; a lot of the pieces reminding him of things that you would paint yourself-

"You must be James" she hummed, taking him into the living room while Bucky's jaw was still hanging, utterly perplexed over where he was. "Let me get your girl"

"My girl?"

Before he could get another word in, the woman disappeared, coming back moments later, dragging you with her. You stood stiffly, refusing to meet his eyes while she huffed, giving you a gentle push towards him.

"Now you both sit and talk" And with that, she left.

"Y/n" Bucky want to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive him, his heart breaking over the way you looked at him like a stranger. The eyes that used to hold so much love, so much spark were now hollow and empty and full of hurt.

"No. You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself Bucky" You kept your voice as steady as you possibly could, your throat already starting to grow painfully tight. You weren't one to cry easily, especially after years of training to repress your emotions but Bucky was your weakness.

"I know. I was wrong, I should've listened to you, it was so wrong of me, I-It's just-I'm not excusing myself, I promise, it's just-I didn't know what to think and I'd always hear you on the phone, sometimes you'd disappear for hours and you wouldn't tell me where, I-I'm sorry I thought the worst when I saw that file. It doesn't change the fact that I didn't let you get a word in. I'm so sorry angel"

You sighed, letting your heart soften. You knew Bucky came with his own baggage of trust issues and while you'd wanted to tell him about the phone calls and visits, you worried about if any of it would make him uncomfortable.

"It was my mother" You whispered, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers, "That's who I'd call and come to see. Well my adoptive mother. Handler. She was like a mother to me"

"But-I thought-" Bucky blinked in confusion, Fury had made it clear the woman had passed before you escaped, "She's alive?"

"I helped her escape with me. We faked her death so they wouldn't come searching for her. She had been captured there to work as a nurse. We changed our names. I didn’t want her living there anymore after I left. This is her place; Tony was nice enough to renovate a penthouse for me without asking questions. Before I joined the team, we'd lay low in cheap rentals. Now I know she's always safe. The concierge is a trained agent"

Bucky felt an inkling of hope when he stepped towards you and you didn't step back. He nervously brought his hand to hold yours, letting out the breath he was holding when you didn't pull away.

"Please forgive me baby, I-I should've given you a chance to explain, I'm so sorry" Bucky squeezed your hand, his thumb coming to brush away the tear that trailed down your cheek.

"You hurt me" You whispered, sniffling. "I'm not upset that you got mad or felt hurt and confused. But you thought I was an agent Bucky. You-you thought I'd do something to hurt you" The last word barely made it out as the first sob escaped. You were able to take Bucky's hurt and confused but no the fact that he'd doubt your love for him, "Did you think I-I didn't love you?"

"No! I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry baby. For everything. For everything you had to go through, for everything I said. I shouldn't have acted like that. I should have trusted you, I know you love me, no one's ever loved me the way you do doll"

“How could you not trust me. Why didn’t you at least let me explain it to you Bucky”

“I know baby, m'so sorry" Seeing your walls crumble made Bucky's heart ache, his body moving on its own to wrap you in a protective hug. He hated to be the cause of your tears, understanding why you'd been nervous to tell him about your past. Of course you came with your own traumas from Hydra and even though he endured similar things, it still wasn't easy to open up about. "Will you please come back home? You don't have to stay in our room, you don't even have to forgive me, just- please baby"

You melted into his embrace having missed his warmth, his scent, his safe arms.

"I should have told you. I-I was scared-

"Shhh, I understand. You don't have to explain it, m'sorry i didn't know and lashed out. Please come home baby" He whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head while keeping you pressed to his body. You nodded against his chest, too lost in hugging him back to notice your mother's watery smile or happy sniffles.

"Take me home, Bucky"

-

Of course after you'd come home, Bucky continued to earn your forgiveness, making sure you understood he'd never doubted your feelings for him. He starts to join you as well when you go to visit your mother, blushing when she calls him handsome. Butterflies erupt in his tummy when she give him her blessing while he fidgets with a ring he'd bought, keeping it safely in a velvet box for the right moment.

During vulnerable nights there are times where he needs you to hold him and nights where you need him just as much. He loves that he can comfort and hold you too, letting you pour your heart out when you feel like it or humming soft lullabies till you fall asleep when you don't feel like talking. One thing that is for sure, he'd never push you away from him again. There no one else on this earth that he loves and trusts more than you.

Once again, this version was meant to be trashed so. pls.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #marvel angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x freader #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky x freader #bucky x you #bucky x f reader #bucky x angst #bucky x female yn #bucky x fluff #bucky x f!reader

[grandline-fics]

Hi :3 i just watched the new episode and i want to hit that girl she had to touch zoro and sleep wit him 💔

So may I request zoro xs/o about seeing him with the girl maybe some angst and fluff in the end?

DESCRIPTION: After an unplanned separation, you feel insecure about your new relationship

WARNINGS: angst to fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 1,852

A/N:  Thank you for this request! I think I rushed the ending a bit but I hope you're happy with it

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

Things between you and Zoro were new, incredibly new. There was still a lot you both had to come to grips with, sorting out your feelings and boundaries with each other and still in that moment of not knowing whether what was happening between you both was just lust or if it was going to lead somewhere real. So far you’d both been content to just enjoy the time and moments shared while keeping it all a secret from the crew, deciding it was better to wait before letting them know your personal details. That had been the plan, then it all went wrong in Zou. 

You’d been standing too close to Luffy as you all discussed saving Sanji who was in Big Mom’s territory. Because of that, you were one of the ones he wrapped his arms around and leapt off of the enormous elephant. From there started the longest time you’d both been apart as a couple-albeit a secret one- but you knew Zoro would be just fine in Wano. You just had to do your part and help get Sanji back so the crew could finally be complete again and wasting time thinking about a certain swordsman would only just jeopardise the safety of the crew. 

The entire trip and rescue had been an ordeal you never wanted to go through again. The fractured relationship between Sanji and Luffy had taken its toll- even though much of what Sanji did was to protect everyone- and the battles you had to endure too. You didn’t feel like you could properly breathe any sigh of relief for most of the journey. Yes, you’d all been successful but the loss of Pedro and knowing that as soon as you reached Wano it wouldn’t be long until you were brought straight into another monumental burden of fighting and defeating an Emperor of the sea and his followers. You felt like your head was swimming and stomach was going to be twisted into knots from it all. The only thing that kept you from showing your worries to the others was the thought of seeing Zoro again after weeks of being apart. 

So imagine your shock and hurt of the first seeing him again was seeing him and Sanji interfere during the aftermath of an execution. It wasn’t the fact that he saved a child or that he immediately got into a shouting match with Sanji that got under your skin it was that he didn’t even seem to look for you in the crowd where you stood with the others. Then as fast as you saw him, he was gone again; running to safety with a beautiful woman in his arms. You told yourself you were being ridiculous, that while it seemed like they knew each other Zoro was only acting on instinct to save someone and not because of some other desires fuelling his actions. 

At least that’s what you told yourself at first but as you and the others in the crew ran to escape Kaido’s lackeys you had to listen to Brook gleefully inform a heartbroken Sanji that he had walked in on the sight of this same beautiful woman sleeping contently with Zoro. While Sanji screamed loudly at the revelation you internalised all of your hurt until you were safe and alone, finally able to take out your fury and heartbreak on some random tree in the dense forest with your weapon until your body was too exhausted to move let alone care anymore. In the coming days of preparing for the raid on Kaido’s banquet you kept to yourself, doing all you could to focus your mind on the reason for being in Wano. Still you couldn’t help but numbly rationalise Zoro’s actions. 

Of course the weeks apart would give him insight into how he truly felt. Of course he would have realised he could do better than you. Of course you both only got together in the first place because on the ship, you were the alternative to having any needs he had go unmet. You had to face facts, this was just a fling for Zoro and nothing more. It just killed you inside to realise that you felt so strongly for him, you wished things had ended before it had gotten this far for you. The only thing you were glad of when Zoro finally reappeared was that he had a new sword to hone and train with so he stayed away from you. If there was to be a conversation you wanted it to be after the fight with Kaido, a clouded mind would only lead to mistakes and in this situation it would have been fatal. 

However on the night before the planned fight while the crew had finished their preparations and were beginning to turn in, Zoro walked towards you in the quiet night. He knew you had been keeping your distance from him so he could train and he appreciated that you were so understanding that when he was focused, he needed space. But now there was no more training he could do in the short hours before things would start so he wanted to properly reach out to you. He’d missed you during the time away but to see that you were completely unharmed was a relief. If you’d come back to him with so much as a scratch he would have killed the stupid cook because at the core of the matter it would have been his fault. 

Zoro frowned when you glanced his way and immediately moved to gather your things and find a new place to rest. His hand dropped to your arm but you surprised him when you quickly and sharply twisted from his touch. Then he remembered you two were still a secret. He glanced around the space and smirked to see the coast was clear, but even if the others were still up and about he wouldn’t have cared, not after the time apart. Still if you were still worried about telling the others he’d respect that. “We’re fine. It’s just us.” He spoke lowly to reassure you but it seemed to have the opposite affect when you snapped your head up to glare at him.

“Us?” You repeated coldly, expression melting into one of mock confusion. “There’s an us?”

“Wh-” Zoro was genuinely thrown for a moment and then he became worried that you had been injured in the time away and lost your memories of him. “Of course there is! What happened?” Again he reached out for you but this time your hand slapped his fingers with a sharp snap while the fierce glare returned to your eyes.

“Oh nothing’s wrong with me, I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Last thing I’d want is to get cosy with someone else’s man.” Your tone was scarily even and Zoro still didn’t know what you were talking about. He didn’t even know how to fix whatever it was that was bothering you. Thankfully you clarified by lightly tapping the hilt of Enma that was against his hip with his other swords. “It’s cute she knows the right gifts to give you so early in the romance.”  Despite the sweet words, the venom in your voice was unmistakable and Zoro finally saw the pain dimming your eyes as you regarded his new sword.

“Hiyori?” Zoro asked startled that you’d even think there was anything romantic going on there. She only gave him the sword as an exchange that was it. “There’s nothing between us. Definitely not ‘cosy’ trust me on that.” At that you let out a short, hollow breath of laughter which worried Zoro even more when he was so used to your laugh being filled with warmth and joy. 

“Well the way Brook tells it, the whole situation seemed very cosy…” Slowly you stepped closer to him, finally for the first time in ages and dragged your fingers across his chest while your other hand slid up his arm, drawing your body further into his space. Your head tilted up, purposely letting your nose gently skim against his throat until you could peer up at him with your guarded gaze. “Something like this, if i’m remembering right. You don’t call this cosy?” Zoro was stuck, if he said yes he was screwed, if he said no he was also screwed.

“Don’t worry about it Zoro. We had our fun while it lasted, right?” You forced out in as light a voice as possible. “You should get some rest while you can and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time.” When you moved to pull away you were immediately caught by Zoro’s reflexes. While you were fast, he was faster when he wanted to be. You let out a gasp to be pulled impossibly close against his chest as his arms locked around you, holding your body against his. 

You wanted to fight against the hold that was strong, secure, and -as much as you hated it- comforting. Even now with your heartbroken mind racing, you always felt safe and warm in his arms. You tried to open your mouth to tell him to let go but you couldn’t. Part of you didn’t want to  because the last thing you wanted now was for your voice to be a pitiful, weak tremble but another part knew that even if you managed out the words, he would have listened. So you kept your mouth closed. “I’ve missed you. I wished you hadn’t gone after that cook with the others.” 

Your body tensed at his words, hearing how sincere they were made your knotted worries and spiralling hurt begin to loosen slightly. You didn’t regret helping with Kanji’s rescue but you did also wish you’d gone to Wano with Zoro. “I’m sorry you were made to think the worst. I promise you there wasn’t anything going on with her or anyone. There is no one but you.”  

“Don’t say that.” You whispered, trying not to melt into his embrace. Even with him telling the truth it didn’t stop the fact that your insecurities had surfaced and with them came concerns about everything. “Compared to someone like her I’m-”

“Perfect. Mine. Everything.” Zoro interrupted fiercely before pressing a kiss against your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes to get you to believe it. But first-” You staggered when Zoro let you go and began stomping towards the Sunny. “I’ve got a skeleton to kill for causing you to hurt.” Bewildered by the immediately bloodlust rolling off of his frame you had no choice but to chase after him to stop him from killing another member of the crew while shouting that you believe him. When you finally caught up to him you pulled him into another tight hug with shaking hands. While things were still new between you two and it was clear you both had a lot to work out you now knew that for as long as you wanted him, Zoro would be there. 

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fic #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x reader

[earthtooz]

BABE I HAD AN IDEA- Reo Mikage ANGST where he calls reader a gold digging whore in the middle of an argument, ultimately affirming all of her insecurities so he has to figure out a way to show that he didn't mean it and that he's sorry without using his disgustingly abundant wealth 💔 anyways ilysm hope you take care of yourself

NO YOU ARE LITERALLY DISGUSTING FOR THIS (affectionate) YOUR MIND >>> YOU ARE SOOOOO RIGHT. SHUT UP THIS WILL LITERALLY BE THE MOST SCRUMPTIOUS FIC EVER BECAUSE I AM LITERALLY ABOUT TO PUT MY WHOLE EARTHUSSY INTO INCORPORATING THIS IDEA SOMEWHERE !!! BUT FOR NOW, TAKE THIS SNIPPET I WHIPPED UP IN ONE SITTING.

girl feel free to come back into my inbox WHENEVER and giving me your juicy ideas bc holy shit i loved this.

CW: HURT/COMFORT - A LOT OF BOTH, SWEARING, UNEDITED - I WAS GOING THRU IT WHILST WRITING THIS DON'T LOOK AT ME!

IMAGINE THIS: it's been a rough night for both you and reo, he's been through a lot in the past weeks because his dad just had to during the middle of soccer season to lecture reo about how to run a big business. the transition process is beginning to happen since father mikage is about to retire and although your purple-haired boyfriend has been preparing for this his whole life, having gone to business school part-time and graduating with honours, there's still a little part of him that feels weary from all the responsibilities.

all this accumulated stress needs to have an outlet eventually, right? welp, you just happened to be there at the right (wrong) time. you were simply delivering a platter of apples to your boyfriend who had his head in his hands, hunched over an endless pile of paperwork that was beginning to irk him with each passing second. countless images of him shredding up the paper flowed into his mind, a fury that manifested into his reality, except the paper was you D,:

one thing evolved into another, reo's endless stream of venomous words didn't stop flowing out of him as he spat poison after poison, burning you with the intensity of it all.

"you're so overbearing, can't you see that i'm fine? unlike you i can handle myself when things get hard," he spits, eyeing you with fury in his eyes, one that makes you gulp thickly.

"reo-"

-but you wouldn't know the first thing about fighting for what you want right, you fucking gold-digger."

that stops you in your tracks, silences you effortlessly, causing you to let your hands drop limply back to your sides as you stare at your boyfriend blankly. you're sinking into an abyss of hurt and insecurity, it's getting harder to breathe because of the way your chest swells with anger.

reo only continues, not noticing the way you physically and emotionally drop. "even if you don't give me attention for one second of the day, i won't forget you exist, so stop being so clingy and unnecessary! my money isn't going anywhere either, you don't need to occupy majority of my day so leave me alone. go shop online or something."

that was it. was that all reo perceived you to be? a dent in his money, the expenses of his bank account?

"fine. goodbye," you simply mutter before slipping through his office door, out in the hallway.

"don't bother me whilst i'm in here," he says with finality, one last declaration before you shut the door behind you.

the luxurious walls of reo's penthouse look down at you mockingly, the spacious area caging you in, chanting 'gold-digger' over and over again until it's all you hear.

staying here feels wrong.

so, you grab your purse and leave, as quietly as possible. slipping down to the garage where your (second hand) car was parked, you start the engine up and begin reversing out of the parking lot.

you begin to reflect on your relationship with reo. you love him, you really do, you love him because he's reo, the man who was always capable of making you smile, laugh, and make you feel like you were on top of the world. his money and fame was an added bonus that you truly didn't care much about.

but ever since dating him, you've had your own insecurities that have been forced on you by other people. there were crowds calling you a 'gold digger' who was only with reo 'for the money', and although you were sure of yourself and your intentions, your armour breaks down sometimes.

what reo said tonight was the final jab that allowed it to fully disintegrate.

you had a stable job of your own and finances to your own name, money wasn't something you avidly chased, sure having a few zeroes in your bank account was nice but that was all you really needed. as long as you could buy necessities and spoil yourself, it was satisfactory, and you could provide that for yourself!

reo loved to spoil you, showering you in luxurious gifts that you never knew how to accept. it would take a great deal of convincing for you to take what he bought you, and when you promised him to stop buying them for you, he agreed before buying you more material stuff.

as you pull up to the parking lot of the apartment complex that you resided in, you get into the elevator with a heavy heart, pressing the button to your floor with a lot of emotions.

the ride is silent. everything is so silent.

your apartment is even more silent. it's unused, slightly barren. your furniture was still there, except some dust had gathered on the tables and cabinets from how long you've neglected it.

the only reason you were able to keep your apartment was because you had no expenses outflowing since reo took care of almost everything. anything you needed, he bought it, groceries, bills, whatever, were charged on his card. for a period of time, your bank account merely grew and never decreased.

and since you hadn't been here for a while, electricity and water bills never bothered you too much.

you flop onto your made bed with a sigh. it wasn't as soft as reo's but you didn't find it in you to care, you just needed some well-deserved shut eye.

well, 'shut eye' occurred for merely an hour before your phone started vibrating violently.

with a groan, you shove your face back into your pillows before blindly reaching for your phone.

you already knew who it would be without looking at the caller id. of course reo would be looking for you, noting your obvious absence in his penthouse.

"hello?" you mutter.

"y/n? where the hell are you?" comes reo's frantic voice from the other line. he sounds genuinely concerned.

"doesn't matter."

"i'm sorry for everything i said. please, come back."

"reo, i'm tired, i can't do this with you right now."

"i'm sorry, i'm really really sorry."

"i don't want to hear this right now."

"i love you."

you sigh and you're sure reo can hear it on his end. unsure of how to respond, you just hang up on him before throwing your phone away. normally, you would feel bad about the way you left him, but that wasn't the case this time. you just needed to sleep on this.

but, it was reo you were talking about, and the last thing he was going to let you do was sleep without him.

at 1:24am, there's a series of ferocious knocks on your door, followed by screams of your name.

oh my god it was so embarrassing, you literally shoot out of bed as soon as you register what was happening and dash for your door. you don't want to disturb your neighbours' sleep and let them hear that the pathetic grovelling of your boyfriend. the entire hallway could hear reo and his shouting.

you open the door, pull him in, and slam it shut behind you again, leaving the purple-haired to stare at you with a bewildered expression.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss.

he looks at you the same way a puppy does when its owner kicked it out of the house.

you should've known that merely telling reo 'i don't want to hear this right now' would not be enough to pacify his determination and the fact that you hung up on him only intensified his pettiness. the purple-haired always sought you out, pulling himself into your orbit like a magnet. where you went, reo followed, even if it was to the ends of the world.

he had the money to do whatever he wanted, you suppose.

"i wanted to make sure you were safe," he pouts. "i didn't know whether you'd be here or not."

"well, i'm safe, and i'm here. so."

"i can see that," he leans against the back of your couch. reo looks so out of place in your small apartment, awkwardly playing with his hands. "so... should we go to bed?"

the audacity. "what do you mean 'we'? go back home, reo, i'll see you some other time."

as you turn around to go back to your bedroom, reo's quick enough to round around you, blocking you from the hallway with his larger figure.

"but you are my home. please, i'm really sorry about what i said, i didn't mean it," he pleads, grabbing your face so you could look him square in the eye.

you step out of his grasp easily, shaking him off. if you were in your right mind, you would've seen the look of heartbreak on reo's face.

"sure, if you didn't mean it then you wouldn't have said it in the first place, mikage."

you swerve around him to reach your bedroom and he follows you the entire time, trailing behind you, desperate for an ounce of your attention.

"i know i fucked up, but i didn't mean to hurt you and project my frustrations like that onto you when you were just trying to care for me." you sit down on your bed with a sigh and reo takes a seat beside you. "you know i love you right? like, a lot."

that's right. if there's one thing about reo it's that he loves you to an endless degree.

"thank you for always caring for me. i know you don't do it because you're after my money or fame, but because you want to ensure that i'm healthy and not rotting in all that i have to do," his voice cracks. is he beginning to cry. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

you let a beat of silence pass by before dropping your walls. he was always going to smash through them no matter what.

"i've always felt insecure in our relationship," you confess, no louder than an exhale and if reo wasn't holding on to every action of yours, he wouldn't have heard you. "being called a gold digger became normal when i started dating you and i didn't really care. well- i tried not to care."

you continue. "i don't want to let these comments get to me, but then you said it and... i don't know, it just felt horrible."

you feel an arm sneak under your leg, and another hand come to your elbow, both of which simultaneously pull you to straddle reo's lap. you don't look him in the eye- something he frowns at.

"i love you for you. you're the best i'll ever have, reo, but sometimes i-"

"-please don't finish that sentence," he murmurs, breath fanning against your face.

you meet his gaze. he's crying freely. tears are running down his cheeks like streams and you instinctively bring use your thumbs to catch the drops. you hate it when he cries.

"i don't want it to be anyone else but you," confesses the purple-haired. "i hate it when we're separated, i can't stay away from you too long or i think i will go insane."

his statement causes you to giggle a little.

"you laugh but i'm telling the truth."

"i laugh because you make me happy."

his arms wound around your waist, keeping you pressed against him, leaving you with no room to escape or part from him. just what reo likes.

"i'm sorry for what i said," he says against your collarbone. "when i didn't see you in our home, i didn't know what to think. i got so scared for a second because i had no idea where you could've gone so i started spamming your number-"

"-yeah wait, was calling me 24 times necessary?"

"i was going to keep calling you until you picked up so it could've taken 24 or 1000 times or more. now let me speak." you nod wordlessly, smiling a little at how silly reo can be. "and when i realised that you went back to your apartment, i felt horrible that i drove you out."

he looks up at you with glossy eyes.

"you came here because you wanted to prove me wrong, right? because you bought all this by yourself and don't need me, right?"

"well, kind of, but i also didn't want to be around you so i came back here."

reo frowns before leaning in to press delicate kisses to your neck. "please don't leave me. i need you by my side," he inhales before whispering his next statement. "even if you don't need me."

a hand of yours go up to thread through his hair. "don't say that," you use your other hand to direct his face away from your neck, pressing a kiss against his puckered lips. "i absolutely adore you, my love. you're my favourite person ever."

he smiles before leaning in again, kissing you with more fervour and passion. you can feel another tear slide down his cheek.

"lets go to bed, reo," you say when you part and he simply nods, laying you on the side of the bed before laying beside you, arms naturally finding themselves around your waist as reo tugs you as humanely close as possible. "sorry if this mattress isn't as comfortable as your twelve grand one back home."

"i couldn't care less," he whispers whilst tracing patterns on your bare skin.

so long as it's you he's next to, reo doesn't have a lot to complain about.

#bro when i say i literally wrote this in one go #I WROTE THIS IN ONE GO #reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x reader

[givemea-dam-break]

hi my love, can you do anthony lockwood x reader

possibly with prompt 17 or 24 from the angst list?!? ive been craving some lockwood angst recently and i love your fics so who else could i ask to fulfill my needs

a/n: yes yes yes i have been dying for angst it’s my favourite thing to write. i'm so glad you like my fics! feeling honoured rn. this is shorter than some of my other fics, but i hope you like it!

warnings: angst, language prompts: "You're not my friend anymore, remember?" and "You left, you left, and now you have the gall to come back like nothing happened." gn reader

Your day couldn't have gone worse.

Originally, your plans for your first day off in weeks had been to spend your time in the library nearby, listening to the rain on the tall windows as you read in your favourite seat before stopping off to grab a takeaway on your way home.

Of course, things can never go to plan in a world haunted by ghosts.

To preface, the Visitors aren't the problem, not today at least.

You've reached a particularly good chapter of your book when things start to go wrong. You're completely content just reading away, sipping on some tea in your travel mug, when a shadow looms over the pages, making it hard to read.

Looking up, slightly irritated, you say, "Hey, do you mind moving, please?"

Then you see the face, and the irritation melts into something more: fury.

Anthony Lockwood stands before you, soaked with rain and dripping all over the floor. His hair, usually neatly brushed, looks like a wet rat, and his cheeks are flushed from the November chill. From the way he smiles, they remind you a little bit of apples. You like apples considerably more than you like him.

"What do you want?" you ask.

Lockwood points at the free chair next to you. "Can I sit?"

"Absolutely not."

"Right." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat. "Can we talk?"

"Also, no," you say, returning your attention to the book. "Goodbye."

A sigh. "(name), please, it's important."

"Important enough to bug me on my only day off? No, I don't think so."

You hope for a moment that he'll turn and walk away, but this is Anthony bloody Lockwood, and when does he ever listen to you? He moves, sinking into the seat beside you, and crossing his legs. You make a point of ignoring him, continuing to read the last paragraph you were on.

"We need your help."

No response. You keep on reading.

"(name), please. It's a big case, and we could really use your Talent."

Again, you ignore him, silently mouthing the words as you read them. Your focus on him strays, and for a minute it's as if he's no longer there, but the scent of bitter tea and citrusy shampoo lingers, taunting you.

Swiftly, you shut your book and stand, grabbing your bag. The action seems to shock Lockwood, and his daze gives you enough time to slip the book back into its slot on the shelves and storm out of the library.

Alas, Lockwood has long legs and catches up momentarily.

"I don't want to talk to you," you grumble, pulling your hood over your hair as you step out into the rain.

"I know, and that's my fault, but, please, listen this once. We -"

"Need my help. Yeah, I got that." Squeezing through a crowd of kids heading into the library, you continue, "But, thing is, I'm not an agent anymore. And, even if I was, you're not my friend anymore, remember? You gave up that right months ago. I wouldn't help you even if my life depended on it."

That stops him short. You keep on walking, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

"You're not an agent anymore?" he asks, catching up once more.

You scoff. "Haven't been since that last case we went on, and I don't plan on becoming one again."

Judging from his expression, he hasn't taken the news lightly. He almost looks betrayed, and that makes you want to strangle him. He's got no right.

"Why not?"

"Because," you say, stopping at the side of the pavement, out of the way of other people, "you left. You left me there, Lockwood. And now you have the gall to come back like nothing happened! You don't just do that."

His frowns. "I didn't leave you."

You want to scream at him, to pull your hair out. It feels like you're about to explode from the rage you're feeling.

"Yes, you left. I was left in that goddamn maze of a mansion by myself while you and George, what? Went to go have some celebratory doughnuts? Not all of the sources were secured, Lockwood. I almost died trying to get out of there."

"I didn't -" His face blanches, and he looks like he's going to be sick. "We thought we'd secured them all."

"Well, you didn't. Want to know why I didn't go back to Portland Row for a week before getting my stuff? I was in the hospital recovering from ghost touch. Took my a month to regain full use of my right arm, you know. I almost lost my arm, in fact. But you didn't ask, you just stood and watched as I packed my stuff."

That makes him angry. "What was I meant to do? There was no stopping you."

"I wanted you to try," you say, and your voice wavers. His expression softens. "If you'd tried, I might've stayed. I might've forgiven you. But you just watched. You never asked me where I was for that week. No, you were busy revelling in your success and hiring other agents."

"We needed another agent, anyways."

"You should've checked on the one you had!" Your breathing is heavy, and your head hurts from the myriad of emotions swirling around. "I'm not - I'm not doing this right now. Today was meant to be a good day. Goodbye, Lockwood. Don't come see me again."

You start to walk away, but his hand clasps around your wrist. Scowling, you tug it from his grip, looking at him incredulously.

"I'm sorry, (name)," he says. In his defence, he's being genuine, but that doesn't mean that you're having any of it. "I am. About all of it. Please, can we talk it out?"

Thank god for the rain, because it hides the tears in your eyes. "No. I - I'm going home, and you're going to leave me alone. I don't want to see you again."

Lockwood's jaw goes slack. "Please, I'm sorry. I can't lose you."

"The minute you left me alone on that case, you lost me," you say. "I don't care how sorry you are. It does nothing. It doesn't stop me from seeing the moment I almost died every night when I sleep. It doesn't change the fact that I don't trust you anymore."

"(name) -"

"I pray that your new agent, Lucy, 'the Superstar' - that's what you called her on live TV, right? - I pray she doesn't have the same fate. I hope things work out well for you, Lockwood, truly, but that doesn't mean we'll ever be friends again. Now, I'm going home."

"Please don't go." His voice is a little shaky. It's the most emotion you've seen from him other than that fake smile he gives to the press. "Please, I'll do better."

You shake your head. Then, wordlessly, you turn and make your silent, miserable trek home.

#lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #george karim #lucy carlyle #fanfiction #x reader #givemea-dam-break

[fuckyeahfightlock]

Whumpril 2024

-18- Broken Glass

For no real reason, Harry assumed it would take his family ages to come clean out his flat. They'd have the wake and funeral to cope with, and that must take nearly a week. Then finding someone to let them in the building, give them a key to his door. At least a day arguing about who would do it (his mum would say it was too much but that his dad should pack up everything and bring it back to her; his sister would say she was too busy with her kids, and she probably was; his brother might volunteer because he'd always been a bit morbid). From the time his body was taken away, he reckoned he had at least ten days. Maybe longer; the rent was paid through the end of the month.

He and Adam let themselves in on a dreary late morning, a week after his body had gone away, alone, in a van.

"Where's all my things?" he protested, feeling violated, like he'd been burgled. The furniture was there, of course. The telly on its stand, plates and pots and teacups in the kitchen, wineglasses hung by their feet beneath the cupboards. But where were his books? He'd only had a few, carefully chosen, which he kept because he wanted to read them again. One had the author's signature in it.

"Someone cleaned it," Adam offered, looking sorry, for some reason trying to gentle him. It made Harry angrier to be coddled; he had reason to be fucked off about it. "Your family? So soon?"

Harry shouldered past him, a rough brush of their chests that made Adam step backward half a pace. Harry was glad of the chance to get physical with someone, even the wrong someone. It was the same in his bedroom. A new, clean mattress on the bed. His clothes gone from the cupboard and chest. There'd been socks on the floor, a water glass on the bedside table, a blanket he'd liked enough to move from flat to flat ever since he left home. He knelt and looked under the bed for a box full of ticket stubs, foreign coins, his passport, letters from people who'd cared enough about him to send letters at all. Worse than burgled; he'd been deleted.

"No one cares," he muttered, getting to his feet and storming through the flat. Adam stood helpless and silent by the open bedroom door. "No one cares that I was ever here."

"Harry."

"Why is it like I was never even here?" he raged, and his vision blurred with tears. "I'm here for my things. I'm here!" He yanked a wine glass from where it hung from the rack in the kitchen, and hurled it across the flat. It smashed against the big window, an explosion of shards and specks, a satisfying brittle sound. He threw another one. And another. Adam reached his side as he kicked the TV to the floor, grabbing for his arm just as he was about to take a swing at a mirror hanging on the wall above it.

Holding Harry's fist in both his hands, Adam loudly said, "That's enough," and stood between him and the mirror, though Harry didn't want him there, didn't want to look at him just then. "That's enough, you'll only hurt yourself."

All at once, Harry's fury deflated, and his breath caught on a sob he worked to swallow. "Do you think they were here--my family--and we didn't even know?"

Adam was still holding his hand, and worked to loosen his fist, cradled Harry's hand to his chest and looked at him with soft eyes. "I don't know. Maybe." He shrugged a little, shook his head.

"I could have--" Harry started.

"No." Adam shook his head. "Don't think about that." He released his grip on Harry's hand and held him by the shoulders, then touched the side of his face. "Anyway, maybe it wasn't them."

"That's worse," Harry said. "Bad enough to think they were right here, and I never knew. But maybe they couldn't even be bothered."

Adam pulled Harry's head down onto his shoulder, caressed the back of his head, kissed him and whispered beside his ear. "You're loved, Harry. Nevermind." Kissed him once more. "You're loved."

#writing is easy #ficlet #whumpril 2024 #whump #All of Us Strangers #Harry #remind me to never again whump the same two characters every day for a month

[kess-in-the-perthchimzone]

“Mini” fic: Kang and the terrible, horrible, no good, absolutely perfect day

No one asked for this, it’s entirely self-indulgent because I’ve been obsessed for days with the thought of how Kang would propose. (This isn’t my number one headcanon — which is that Kang would plan an elaborate day but Sailom would figure it out and beat him to the proposal two seconds before Kang could — but Sailom has already gotten to be the competitive romantic asshole this week so it’s Kang’s turn)

The travel agent who convinced him that horseback rides are romantic would need to be fired immediately upon his return to Bangkok, Kang decides two hours in. He’s hot. His legs hurt. He’s probably dying of thirst, because every time he tries to drink out of his bottle, water splashes down the front of his shirt. This is the closest to torture he’s ever willingly subjected himself to.

At least Sailom looks happy. He’s been smiling out at the views of mountains surrounding them since they started, occasionally pointing out a glimmer of water in the distance.

The views long ago stopped being interesting to Kang. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of what will be waiting at the top of this mountain for them — a surprise picnic, with as many of Sailom’s favorite foods as he thought might keep in the heat, to be washed down with a bottle of 2016 vintage Dom Perignon. The champagne seems a little presumptuous given he has yet to ask the question, but he feels as confident that he could be that Sailom will say “yes”. He really freaking hopes Sailom says yes.

A bird comes tearing out of the underbrush in a furious blur of yellow and orange. Kang’s horse startles at the sight. He isn’t ready — he’d barely been holding the reins while he got lost in picturing Sailom’s reaction — and the motion sends him flying. He hits the ground hard enough to knock all the air out of his lungs. The arm he’d landed on burns with the scrape of dozens of tiny rocks.

“Kanghan!” Sailom yells.

It takes him a few minutes to dismount, but he’s at Kang’s side before Kang manages to clear all of the spots out of his eyes. Kang feels Sailom’s fingers press gently against his elbow.

“Are you okay?” Sailom asks, sounding frantic.

“I’m okay,” Kang grits out. He starts to try and sit up, only for Sailom to move a hand to his chest to stop him.

“You’re bleeding,” Sailom tells him.

His eyes are so big and so very dark with concern. His lips have gone flat, colorless where they’re pressed together.

“I’m okay,” Kang repeats, trying to convince himself as much as anything. He glances down to see not one, but four or five different scrapes marring the skin between his elbow and his wrist.

“I have some bandages in my—“ Sailom begins.

“Let’s get to the top,” Kang insists. He thinks longingly of stretching out on the blanket. Of a cool pitcher of water. Of maybe feeding each other some chilled grapes — feeling the press of Sailom’s fingertips at his lips. “We’re almost there.”

Sailom frowns at him. “Kang.”

“Please,” Kang says. Sailom is welcome to spend as much time as he likes tending to Kang’s wounds once he’s wearing Kang’s ring on his finger. “We’re almost there.”

Sailom reluctantly agrees, but he insists on taking up the rear for the rest of the ride.

Which means Kang is first to crest over the top of the mountain. He’s first to see the pristine open area, with its sweeping views. How empty it is. How there isn’t a fucking picnic set up anywhere in site.

“What?” he demands. He scrabbles to dig his phone out of the little backpack he’d donned for this trip. The screen shows an ominous NO SIGNAL.

Kang jumps down to the ground, feeling a sharp throbbing in his arm in the process. He looks around wildly, as if he might be missing something, somehow on this tiny plot of land. He paces a lap, looking down over the edges, on some frantic hope everything might have blown over — caught on some branch. There’s nothing.

“What’s wrong?” Sailom calls.

Kang ignores him as fury rises inside him. This had taken weeks of planning. He’d called three times this week to make sure everything would be here. His entire plan had hinged on having this picnic. Today was supposed to be the day he finally proposed to Sailom. Now, he’s going to have wait. And who knows when he’ll get another chance with both their work schedules.

He kicks at a rock on the ground, sending it flying. The motion reveals another stabbing pain in the hip he’d landed on. Kang swears loudly but stubbornly kicks again.

After a few seconds of that, angry tears threaten to spill over. He lifts his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

Suddenly Sailom is there, carefully pulling down his arms. Kang blinks against the influx of bright light to see him standing close, hair a sweaty, tousled mess and cheeks flushed a dark pink. He’s the prettiest person Kang has ever met, he thinks a little hysterically.

“What’s wrong?” Sailom asks, although it comes out more a gentle order than a question.

“There’s no champagne,” Kang tells him.

Sailom clearly has to bite down against a laugh. He removes one of the hands he has around Kang’s wrist to card his fingers against his scalp. Kang can’t help tilting his head into the touch. “Did you hit your head when you fell?”

“No,” Kang protests.

“Will you let me look at your arm now?” Sailom asks. He shakes his head at Kang with unmistakable fondness.

Kang holds it out dutifully. He feels the tentative press of Sailom’s fingers — sees him carefully adjust Kang’s forearm to better meet the light.

When their gazes next meet, it feels a little like falling again. Kang goes breathless in the face of the love and care he sees in every fragment of color in Sailom’s eyes.

“We’re going to have to clean these when we get back to the hotel,” Sailom tells him.

The final traces of anger deflate as quickly as they’d come. At once, Kang feels almost shy.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Sailom quirks an eyebrow at him. “No joke about taking a bath together. Are you sure you—“

“Will you marry me?” Kang interrupts. He doesn’t consciously decide to say the words. They just come rushing out of him, in a torrent as strong as the waterfall they’d seen at the start of this terrible ride.

The question strikes Sailom visibly speechless. He goes entirely still, except for the quick bob of his throat as he swallows.

Kang feels compelled to fill the silence, but the entire speech he’d planned has gone flying out of his head so he finds himself babbling stupidly. “I know we’re going to buy a house together. I know we have our tattoos, and those are more lasting than a ring. And I don’t even really know what would be different, but I love you so much and — “

This time, Sailom interrupts him. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Kang repeats incredulously.

“Yes!” Sailom says.

Kang finally processes the enormous smile splitting Sailom’s face, but he doesn’t have long to enjoy it. Sailom uses his grip on Kang’s wrist to pull him forward into a kiss.

(Kang spends the entire ride down watching the way the sun glints off the metal on Sailom’s finger as he holds the rein. This time, he enjoys the trip a whole lot more)

((And I wholeheartedly second @godamnarmsrace headcanon that Kang would have had something custom made, and it would probably be something like this ring that spins!))

((Want your own mini fic? Show me proof that you submitted a question or feedback to the Dangerous Romance Celebration hosted by @criticallyobs before midnight your time on this Thursday and I’ll tackle the Kang/Sailom prompt of your choosing))

#Kess sometimes writes fic not meta #kanghansailom #dangerous romance

[ellestra]

Space Adventure

I already saw The Marvels and it was pretty much exactly what I was hoping for - light, fast, fun. I will keep this vague since it's only Wednesday but it was really fun.

The action flows nicely and we get really cool dynamics between the three Marvels. I love Monica confronting Carol about her abandonment and it was refreshing that they didn’t let their issues distract them from the fight. I liked how Monica was the responsible adult and became the voice of reason. I loved how quickly she and Kamala fall into a big sister - little sister dynamic. And of course Kamala was the best one with enjoying the adventure and world saving. And fangirling over Carol. And then Monica. And of course Fury too (she’s basically going all Fury at the end). Also I loved their training montage.

I liked how Carol is confronted with her failure to deal with stuff that can’t be solved just by punching through things. She tries to fix it all alone because she broke it. But at every step she is shown she can’t really do it alone. She needs friends who can both help and call her on her bullshit - whichever she needs at the moment. And sometimes solve the issue because they have necessary abilities or capabilities. Not just Monica and Kamala but also Fury, Goose and a certain royal.

The villain of this is driven by hurt and anger and Carol is responsible for all of it. It's a classic story of good intentions gone horribly wrong because just kill the evil leader is rarely a solution that ends wars. Most civilisations are not Chitauri. Dar-Benn has some understandable goals but, as always happens in such cases, prioritising revenge doesn't end well. And hubris doesn't help either. Still, I could see why she would not want to believe any offer from Carol to be genuine. And it's nice of Marvel to give both Zawe Ashton and Tom Hiddlestone a big moment this week.

Also , there is a flerken bit that, for me, was alone worth the price of admission. It’s horror for the participants and it’s comedy for the audience and the music makes it so much better. I see myself watching it on repeat once it hits the internet.

You don’t need to watch any of the TV series (they catch you up on the important parts). Sure it’d be easier to care about Kamala’s family dynamics if you’ve seen Miss Marvel but even that is skippable. If you watched certain D+ series you’d also be more excited about one of the teasers at the end. For the other Multiverse of Madness is a template.

#the marvels #carol danvers #monica rambeau #kamala khan #nick fury #goose the cat #flerken #goose the flerken #captain marvel #miss marvel #dar benn #kree #marvel #mcu

[lyak12]

You’re doing great

Summary: Nat is new to the team and making a mistake affects her more than anybody thought.

Genre: fluff, comfort

Word count: 1,3k

Warnings: sleep deprivation, let me know if I should add any

A/N: Here is my second fic. Thanks to @goldenempyrean for the idea! If you have anything you’d like me to write please send in a request! I don’t bite and I’ll do my best to fullfill it quickly. Also thanks for all the love on my first fic! I’m really glad you guys like it!

Nat was still fairly new to shield. You were both send to kill each other but you decided against taking that shot and so did she. Instead you brought her in and she defected to shield. It has been a bit of a bumpy ride, especially since Nat keeps mostly to herself but if someone would be considered close to her it’s you.

It has been one of the first missions Nat has been on together with the rest of the team as she makes a small mistake. Nothing fatal, no one got hurt or anything but it still got talked about. None of you thought it was a big deal, you’ve made mistakes like that almost every mission, especially in the beginning. You didn't think Nat would think much about it but boy were you wrong.

Nat was not used to make mistakes and since she was still partly in her red room mindset she threw herself into training. Working herself harder and harder to never make that same mistake again. Where she came from mistakes would end with painful consequences and she didn't want that.

At first you didn't notice but soon you could see Nat pushing herself to the extrem, training harder, longer and more often. You could tell she’s exhausting herself, so one evening you brought her dinner to her room, having not spend much time with her all week.

As she opened the door you could tell that she just came back from another session in the gym, once again working herself almost to the point of exhaustion. „Hey, we haven’t spend much time all week so I figured I make dinner and we can maybe watch a movie or something?“, you asked hopeful. She looked at the food and saw that you made her favorite dish, pasta Alfredo. A small smile played across her lips as she lets you in. Cuddling up on her couch you put on a movie and just chat a bit. 

You were happy she ate. 

„You’ve been training a lot this week, make sure you don’t overwork yourself. Everything okay?“, you asked softly but you could see her closing off immediately. „I'm fine, everything is okay, don’t worry“, she said softly but you got the memo to let it go.

You could tell that she was lying, being able to read her a little but you weren’t going to risk the trust you build by pushing her to tell you what’s wrong.

It went on for two weeks, Nat continuing to work herself harder and harder and you could tell that she was exhausted. It pained you to see her like this, she'd work herself to the bone if you couldn’t get her to stop. You kept an eye on her, gently trying to nudge her into taking a rest, maybe taking a day off but without any success.

Slowly you were at a loss at what to do. You didn’t want to get on the wrong side with her, especially since you did not only have a slight crush on her. You would never act on your feelings though, pretty sure Nat didn't feel the same way.

What you didn't know is that Nat did feel the same way but all of the feelings she felt for you were all new to her. It confused the hell out of her and to drown those feelings out she worked herself even harder.

The others didn’t notice, they were not very close to Nat but you did. But since there was nothing you could do without her closing off completely you just had to watch. At least you could keep an eye on her.

Until Fury send you on a three day long solo mission. The worry about Nat didn't leave your head for one second. And as you came back exhausted and sore you knew why. 

Nat was at her breaking point, it was clearly visible to you. The dark circles under her eyes let you know that she barely slept while you were gone and as you saw her walking into the kitchen she held onto the wall slightly to keep herself upright. Her strong and flawless front was crumbling right in front of your eyes. Talking to Tony she keeps messing up names and as her eyes landed on you she asked „Hey Maria ehh Y/N how was your mission?“.

That was it. No matter what would happen between you and Nat now, you needed to step in.

Walking to her you held her by the arms softly to keep her upright as you look into her unfocused eyes and say „It was good. Nothing special pretty boring actually“. Your eyes moved to Tony as he shot you a worried glance, seeing how out of it Nat is. 

You needed to get her somewhere more private so you just wrapped your arm around her shoulder and guided her to your room. Making her sit down on your small couch, you can tell she’s slightly disoriented and confused barely, having realized you moved her to your room away from the others. 

Getting her a bottle of water you sat down next to her and said „Nat you gotta stop pushing yourself this hard. You need rest, you can barely keep yourself upright right now“. „I have to get better“, she mumbled resting her had in her hands. That’s when you realize what’s all this about, the small mistake a couple of weeks ago.

You gently place a hand on her cheek and make her look at you and listen. „Listen we all make mistakes and we learn out of them. I know this was your way to deal with things before but it's not necessary anymore, Nat. Listen to me when I tell you that nevertheless you did great on that mission. Working together as a team takes time not you working yourself to the bone. You deserve to just rest sometimes, Nat. You're doing a great job", you said softly looking deep into her eyes,. You could see a flash of relief in her eyes but could also tell that she didn’t believe it fully yet, it would take time, she’d need to get used to it. „Thank you“, she mumbled softly and gave you a small smile.

Nat was exhausted, you were tired and in desperate need of a shower but you weren’t willing to let her out of your sight yet. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower now and then we’ll watch a movie together”, you said and there was no room to argue for nat. You could see a look of amusement in her tired eyes as she just accepts the plan.

Grabbing your things for the shower and a change of clothes for Nat you point your finger at her, hand her the clothes and said “You’ll better still be here when I come out of the shower, Romanoff”. A soft tiny smile was playing on her face as she nodded and you quickly went to clean up.

As you came out of the bathroom she sat curled up on your couch in your clothes barely even awake still. She of course woke up as you sat down next to her and turned on the movie but you could tell she wouldn’t last long.

You wanted nothing more than to take her in your arms and cuddle her, let her sleep on your chest but you didn’t want to overstep. However soon enough Nats head landed on your shoulder as she go comfortable and finally fell asleep, letting herself get some well deserved rest. You couldn’t help but smile bright, finally starting to feel at ease with her resting next to you. You rested your head on hers and fell asleep yourself, just happy to be close to her and that she finally gets some rest.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #marvel fic

[smolvenger]

I Say Nothing That Frightens Me, Part One

Pairing: Loki x fem! Reader

Summary: As a young Asgardian, you have grown to be friends and secretly pine for the younger Prince Loki. After his fury has sent him off to put himself in danger, his mother sends you on a quest to find him and bring him home. Your quest makes you cross paths with a mysterious group that calls themselves the TVA. There, your mischievous prince can be found. But it comes with a heartbreaking revelation. He loves another.

Warnings: angst a the end, mentions of Sylvie as a romantic love interest. This will be angsty (but have an eventual happy ending, so stay tuned!). Unrequited love and pining! Loki definitely isn't gonna return Reader's feelings!! hahahaha...unless...oop. ;)

Word Count: >3K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: Ah- the first fic I ever wrote for the big man himself- Loki! I realized I accidentally inspired this from Bizet's opera Carmen, minus the Punish The Woman ending and the cheating and sexism and antisemitism that can be prominent in the opera's plot, hence the title. I wrote it all the way in 2022 and realized I forgot to post it on Tumblr. For a while, it's been this one part because writer's block hit me early last year. I hope y'all like it and give it enough comments and kudos and responses so I can motivate myself to finish it. Send me good vibes to begin on part two! Enjoy!

Taglist: @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @villainousshakespeare @lovelysizzlingbluebird

I say that nothing frightens me, I say alas that I answer for myself, But no matter how brave I am, At the back of the yard, I’m dying of terror Alone, in this wild place Alone, I’m afraid, But I’m wrong to be afraid, You will give me courage, You will protect me, Lord. (English Translation) - Henri Meilhac, from Bizet's opera, Carmen.

It had been a week and there was no sign of him. No word. Nothing. His father couldn’t care less. He kept on ruling Asguard as if everything was normal. As if the only disturbance was a teapot being knocked over in the kitchen. Something simple and easily fixed and none of his business.

That was not the case for his brother or his mother.

Or most especially for you.

Thor had already gone. And there was no exact contact but whispers. People were dying. There was some grand scheme. Something about even the Tesseract and the Infinity Stones. About Midgard and then the Universe being taken over and at the center of it was your close friend and companion, the missing prince.

You sat alone that morning in the garden, watching the fountain burble. Feeling the bit of breeze and the chirp of birds. It all seemed so beautiful and peaceful. You didn’t know if it was to comfort you or if it was mocking you for your inner turbulence. If only you weren’t so worried so you could enjoy it. You were so lost in thought that a sweet, low voice pulled you out of your head.

“How long have you been here?”

Jumping, you turned and stood up, dipping into a curtsy.

“A while, your highness!” you answered.

Looking up, Queen Frigga smiled. And you smiled back.

“It’s your usual spot, I know. Every other child was training with weapons and swords, but you would run here, crying…”

“If you recall, I kept losing. And I was terrified of getting stabbed.”

“And after you had your cry you came back, and kept on…” she finished, she took a hand to smooth the top of your head lovingly.

Your muscles ached on cue from the memory. Yes, you lost often training on how to fight. Seeing the other warriors glide their swords with ease and grow up to be the pride of the kingdom. You preferred regular studies with reading and culture, history and knowledge, and science. Practice battles often had you thrown to the ground in defeat. But at least when it came to a fight, you returned.

“I had to finish it, that was school after all. It’s how I grew up…” you recalled.

She took a hand to dip into the cool water, tracing a pattern followed by the fish inside.

“You’re worried about…” she started.

“Loki, yes. Is he behind this invasion?” you questioned.

“I don’t doubt it. Loki’s been too angry, too jealous, and without a good outlet. All of his life he kept it inside of himself and now that it’s released, it’s piled up from the years of silence. He’s letting it all out at once…” she said.

“He’s…he’s going to get hurt…” you observed worriedly. Mentioning him in this place made it sadder.

You recalled the day years ago. You ran into the garden at this fountain and accidentally happened upon the dark-haired prince reading. You profusely apologized, saying that you were sneaking out of training. And Loki said that he could help you. Then you asked what he was reading. And such began this friendship between the two of you. He gave you tricks about how to fight and confessed that he enjoyed theatre. You told him what your favorite foods at the feast were.

The memories of you too exchanging books and chatting about them between your classes did not stop in your adulthood. They made you happy, and lately even happier. Thoughts of him switched to private, intimate fantasies as you were alone in your room at night.

Now that he was gone, all that was left was a bittersweet tinge in the air.

“He doesn’t hurt himself when you’re around him…” Frigga commented.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re his friend…so save him. Take him off the ledge, find him…”

“But..but I thought Thor would find him!” you argued, standing up. Remembering your manners, you returned to sitting. This could be seen as an insult to the queen, but her arm dismissed the gesture.

She was different from her husband.

“He won’t listen to Thor. Loki’s always been jealous of him, there will be too much of a fight, too much scuffling. And me, I’m his mother but you…you’re his friend. I’ve seen it. He’s too jealous of Thor. He’s mad at his father, mad at me but……you’re different. You might be able to help him. Talk him out of it…” she instructed.

She put a hand on your shoulder, leaning forward, her eyes big and a little watery.

“Y/N, I charge you, as a queen…as a mother…find Loki, find my son…and bring him back…”

You touched the hand and looked up at her.

“If my queen commands, I will” you replied dutifully.

Although a secret part of you was relieved, thrilled. Not just for an adventure. But to find him.

The queen prepared you for your quest well. There was a special sword and a dagger just in case. You couldn’t use magic yourself, but you knew that you had some strength, and being Asgardian, whatever diseases you encountered would not bother you. As you gathered, with some slight armor over your clothes and bags with an extra set of clothes and rations that would satiate you until you found something more, she did something surprising.

On the hour of your departure, the queen gifted you with a beautiful sword- the hilt was bejeweled but all sides of it were still sharp to cut a foe to ribbons. You placed it in a sheath in a belt tied tight around your waist. She gathered your face in her hands and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you…”

“To tell you frankly, I wanted to…wanted to go…go see him…” you confessed.

She blinked and then smiled. No doubt she could tell you felt warmer mentioning that.

“Really?”

“I miss Loki…I miss him more than anything…” you confessed.

She smiled. “I miss him too.”

From under her long sleeve, she gave you a necklace. Nothing but a small string with a glowing blue crystal on it.

“This will take you anywhere on Midgard. But ask for Thor. If you find Thor, you might find him. Ask if there’s any trouble…that is his specialty," Frigga said.

“I promise…I will be back here with him alive and unharmed!" you vowed.

Clutching the necklace, you touched each other’s hands as a last goodbye.

The necklace glowed.

“Take me to Midgard, please," you guided it.

There was a flash of light. You felt a little heavy for a second. It was as if you were falling, but very still. When the light vanished, you saw that you had landed on a field. The wind blew through the grass as it bowed in return. A big red farmhouse stood quietly. An old man in his rocking chair stood up and squinted at you in surprise, hands on his hips.

Midgard was a large place. It was time to start looking.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“He took the Tesseract and vanished” Thor explained.

“He did WHAT?” you shouted.

You could hardly believe the words coming through your ears. All those weeks. Searcing everything. The country took forever to get through. Eating grits, checking the news, and finding ways to get to New York City, the most likely place he would attack…and he had vanished.

“But I…I…where could he have gone?” you asked.

Thor shrugged “If I knew, I would have told you, Y/N…”

You wanted to kick something, to punch a wall. But you just leaned over the desk, your hands flat on it, and sighed deeply.

For a day, you let yourself sulk in the guest room. All of that traveling had wiped you out. You were so done. There were blisters on your feet and you could feel the grime from your smell. You spent your day bathing, wondering what on earth you could do now.

New York City was large, still reeling from its recent attack. But all in all, people seemed fine. Not too many casualties. Not zero, but not eighty. Wandering around the city, you wore a large hoodie and pants to cover your Asgardian traveling clothes. There were so many people, sights, and smells, it was dizzying.

Stomach gurgling, you wandered around. Midguardian food did not completely satiate you the way food back home did, but it was better than nothing. And it was a while since you ate, anyway.

Stopping inside, the doorbell rang. You ordered your food, chewing absent-mindedly on the crackers served right before. The wrappers crackled as you tossed them over your shoulder.

It sounded like a song back home. A song they did for dances. Once you go to a party together. Loki disliked social gatherings and preferred to hide away. You managed to talk him into coming down. Talking to one person. Trying the wine. Dancing. Saving one dance for you. He found he liked it. And he was enjoying himself, getting into little fights, laughing, flirting…

The flirting. There was a pretty red-haired boy, a woman with blonde hair, and even another person he kept flirting with that night. It must have been another heir to the throne trying to set a match that night. Even though in hindsight those matches never resulted in a betrothal, the images in your head made you want to vomit. Seeing him made you…it made your stomach turn. You tried to go to sleep that night, but your brain kept racing. Reviewing everything. It meant nothing, right? That words-he was being friendly!? Those phrases weren’t in any way romantic…right? Besides, he was just your friend! Nothing more…

. Ordering their food and drink for the first time for something new. Anything to get your brain off of your search for the misbehaving prince and your past. But it haunted you for a week. You barely spoke with him and buried yourself in school and training. But every morning, you woke up early with those thoughts, that memory still burned in your brain.

“Hey, watch it, dumbass!” someone yelled. It brought you out with a jump.

Getting out, you didn’t notice a person. Slamming into them, they fell right on the floor in their nice suit, their tray of food flipping in the air.

“My lunch! How could you?” he screamed.

“I’m so sorry!" you apologized. "I can pay you!"

"Forget it! Leave me alone!" he fumed.

You turn around to focus back on your food. But your ears could still hear his nasal, tenor voice.

“Look at that mess!” he complained from behind you. “She might as well be another damn Loki…”

Your sandwich froze in midair and you set it down in shock. Your stomach twisted in knots. The words were still forming in your brain. What…no…surely, they can’t mean…

But as you kept your ears peeled back, it occurred to you…they were. They meant it. They were talking…talking about him-him! You finished your food quickly, quietly. Then you got up and followed them through.

They went to an alleyway. Nothing but trash cans and tall brick walls. Children in the distance laughed as they played and cars honked their horns in frustration in the streets a few feet away. Unaware

All you had to do was create a distraction. Digging into your pockets, you pulled out a tiny ball. A favorite of the younger prince when you were children. Briefly, you smiled at the toy. In your adolescence, both of you would try throwing them in hallways to see which maidservant it would spook. It was harmless and would make them jump and squeal and you both would guffaw with laughter.

Looking over, you timed it carefully. The agents in their suits pressed buttons on a device and a portal opened in the brick wall. It was the size of a New York bagel when you tossed the ball- it hit the wall and exploded in a flurry of pink fireworks. The agents turned their heads, jumping when you ran fastly as you could, and jumped into the portal.

You would see him. Him! Him! And soon! At last- you could have cried as blues and yellows flashed through your eyes. You were falling through universes. And perhaps, your heart would be at peace, and you would tell this wayward prince the truth. How you felt. How your body ached for the brush of his fingers against your hand. How you worried for his safety. Despite his many flaws, if he was a poisonous well, you would still drink it. You would find Loki, bring him home, and tell him that you loved him more than life itself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

When the bright colors faded, all that was were tans. Earth tones. Browns, greys, tans, and whites but all dirtied and plain. This was far from the magnificent palace and beautiful landscape you secretly hoped for. It looked like an average Midguardian office. Except the surreal posters. But at least it seemed to be benign. There were no weaponed guards. As you walked forward, you saw that desks were pushed aside, mugs with coffee stains long since used and stinking from not being washed, and in the distance, there was old music playing and a ticking grandfather clock.

You stepped forward shyly. Just because it looked harmless didn’t mean there was a trap lurking somewhere.

“Well, I’ll be damned, Asgard fashion!” a voice from behind you cried.

Twirling around, you got out your sword. So far, you were lucky to not use it. But that time was now over. You pointed it right into the face of a man in a suit with grey hair and a mustache. He held up his hands in peace and you released them.

His mouth opened into a smile as he glanced over you, eyes trailing down from your hairstyle to your boots.

“Wait, is that…that can’t be! I think I recognize you! Are you Y/F/N??” he asked.

He walked up to you slowly as if you were a predator released from a zoo.

“I am she. Sir, do you know of Loki Laufreyson, Prince of Asguard and God of Mischief? I’m looking for him…” you asked desperately.

The man nodded.

“Like the back of my hand. He’s trying to disband the TVA right now…”

You put your sword back in your hilt.

“I don’t care about the TVA, I care about him…I need to…I need to make sure he’s okay. I need to take him back home, back somewhere safe! I’ve been on this journey forever all for him! I need him! I mean…I need him to go back to his mother!” you explained.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. You caught your breath waiting for his answer. But he said something else.

“Oh, Y/N, you poor thing….” he sighed.

“Oh gods, is he dead?” you asked.

“Probably not…or not yet…but…”

“But what…”

“I didn’t know he had…the clips showed you both together, but there was no wedding…”

“Clips? What do you mean? I don’t know what you speak of…but that doesn’t matter- where is Loki? Don’t play games! I beg of you- take me to where he is!” you cried, ready to grab the man by his collar.

His eyes went soft. You felt suddenly vulnerable.

“Do you love him?” he asked.

Bullets striking your chest would have shocked you less. An electric rush ran through you. You found yourself looking away and feeling suddenly warmer than what was comfortable.

“Love…define love…” you said.

“I can tell, you have…feelings. Not platonic, romantic ones. You have the hots, a crush for this god. That is how we are defining love right now! Do you love him?”

There was silence. The song stopped playing on the speaker and skipped to a trio of women singing about birds.

You felt as if this was a monster to fight. But not a literal one. And you were taught to be brave no matter what.

“I…I do! Now tell me where he is…” you answered plainly.

“I…I know where he is. Call it the end of the Universe and I know a way to get there but…Y/N…I need to prepare you…” he said with a deep sigh.

He walked up and put a heavy hand on your shoulder. His lips curled as if getting ready to spit out a poison he did not want to inflict on you.

“What is your name, sir?” you asked.

“Call me Mobius,” he answered.

You shook your head.

“What could possibly upset me, Mobius? He’s alive and not injured, I have reason to rejoice why would you say that? Loki is alive and once I find him, I will tell him how I feel and-”

“Y/N, he’s there with a woman he’s fallen in love with…”

It hits you like a rock. No. No no no no-no. You began shaking. The world went dizzy except for him. You began to sit down to ground yourself.

“Wha…he’s in love with someone else?”

Mobius nodded.

In spite of your warrior education, you sat down on a chair and burst into exhausted, heartbroken sobs as Mobius watched. Hand still on your shoulder empathetically.

“That’s not even the strangest part about it…” Mobius added on.

#loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki angst #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #loki x fem! reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #carrie writes #angst with a happy ending #loki x fem! y/n #loki x reader fanficiton #loki tv show #loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #loki friggason #how many names does the dude have? #tom hiddleston #angst #unrequited love #or is it #angst fanfic #angst fic #angst writing

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Two Sides Of The Same Coin - Chapter 35: "All Too Well"

"I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here because I remember it all too well...."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes

Numb.

That was the only word for it.

You were numb from the very moment Fury walked you out of the Compound.

You weren't sure how things had gone so wrong overnight, but 24 hours ago, you were on the couch watching movies with Bucky's arm draped around you. And now you'd never see him again. 

You didn't even have anything to remember him by. You wonder how long he'd remain a clear picture in your memory, would his steel blue eyes fade from your recollection while the memories remained fresh in your mind? Would you remember the feeling that came in all those stolen moments? Or would you always be able to picture it? You didn't know. You didn't know anything anymore. 

You remained silent in the car as you drove away from everything and everyone you knew.

Soon you were on a small plane, flying with unfamiliar SHIELD agents and Fury as they carted you off to an unknown location. You shove your hands in your jean jacket, the one Sam bought for you your first week with him. Your first real article of clothing- You stop that thought in its tracks. You couldn't think about that because you knew if you did, you'd start crying and you weren't sure that you'd ever be able to stop.

The moment you shove your hands in your pocket, you feel an unfamiliar metal object. Flat, cool, engraved- you don't even have to look to know what they are, you'd seen them on him enough times to know what they'd feel like.

Bucky's dog tags.

You weren't sure when he'd slid those in your pocket, but the smallest smile tugs at your lips at you at being able to hold onto a piece of him.

You're only half paying attention when a hand forcefully tugs you off the plane seat. In your peripheral you see Fury scowl at the man and bark a warning, but the agent only lets up the slightest bit.

You vaguely hear someone mention that they had to check you for any personal possessions. You nod absently, keeping the metal painfully pressed against you so they wouldn't find it as they patted you down. You hear Fury reminding the agent that you weren't a prisoner and that you shouldn't be treated like one.

The frisk thankfully ended without issue. You sigh in relief, internally smiling as you'd get to keep one thing from Bucky.

Then, Fury murmured his own goodbyes, this one not so permanent, but something told you that you wouldn't be seeing him for quite some time either. Your jaw tightens as you watch him reluctantly walk away from you and you wipe away the silent tears trailing down your face.

Then another agent grabs your arm, tugging you away again.

It goes on like that for a while. A series of trade offs and unfamiliar corridors as the distance between you and anything familiar keeps increasing. No one says anything to you, offers any pleasantry, no one even asks you your name. 

Then you're lead into another corridor where a friendlier, very talkative agent greets you. She doesn't grip your arm, just gently guides you down the dimly lit concrete corridors. "You know, I've seen footage of some of your mission and I have to say, I'm a big fan. I think you-"

You offer a small smile, politely nodding along, but not quite paying attention as she recaps missions you'd actually lived. Moments you'd lived with the ones you loved most- people you'd never see again. 

"You don't have anything on you, right? I know we checked, but protocol," the agent shrugs.

You say nothing, only slightly shaking your head in worry that she'll be able to sense your lie. You needed to hold onto this, if this was all you could get you'd cling to it.

She nods, content with your answer and continues talking about your moments with the Avengers. It's clear she's well-intentioned, but the walk down memory lane feels a lot more like salt in the wound than nostalgic reminiscence.

Right up until she stops in front of an unremarkable steel door.

She scans her card, ushering you into the small room- you freeze as she walks you inside the room. The parallels make your palms sweaty, your heart race with unease- you can't help but notice: it's almost exactly the size and layout of the room from before.

“Is there any way you can leave the door open? Or can we find a bigger room?” you meekly ask, already feeling suffocated in the small briefing room. 

“Sorry,” the agent winces apologetically. “Protocol. Well, I guess you would understand that better than anyone with all that bureaucratic crap SHIELD put Wilson through the last two months with your relocation-”

“What?” you shakily exhale, the meek, polite smile on your face slowly dropping as you feel the remains of your broken heart shattering.

The agent's voice sounds distant and you've almost completely tuned out what she's saying as your mind replays her words. “I mean, he tried, but honestly the whole thing was rigged from the start. And maybe I'm not supposed to say this, but they’d really already made up their mind. The whole thing was just for appearance's sake.”

You sharply inhale, the agent unaware of the mental turmoil building in your head after she unknowingly revealed the truth. You're not even pretending to listen to the agent’s rambling as your mind pieces together the new information.

You weren’t blindsided.

Sam wasn’t blindsided.

Was Bucky blindsided? He seemed as shocked as you were, but evidently you weren’t a good judge of these things. 

Apparently, this had been a long ordeal. And you were none the wiser. 

“Anyway, someone will come by to brief you on your relocation. It was nice to meet you.”

You absently nod, staring at the wall as your mind finally allows you to think the words: he knew.

“He knew,” you whisper to yourself, your breaths quickly becoming ragged. One of your hands reaches for the wall to try to steady yourself as the room starts swirling around you, while the other flies to your chest in a futile attempt to ground yourself.

As you continue your tailspin, your masochistic, traitorous mind keeps playing it all back:

-

You wordlessly smile at Sam as he pulls up to the curb. You hesitantly open the car door as Sam ran around to the passenger side of the car. He points at the little brownstone, "At least they've got us in a nice place."

You smile, not fully understanding what he meant. He offers you another smile before nudging his head for you to follow him. You walk up the steps taking in the scenery of the bustling neighborhood. As you walk through the door with him, he says, "Welcome home."

You remember thinking that it did indeed feel like home.

-

"You really like the city, huh?"

"It's pretty."

"What, the snow?" Sam asks.

You nod, continuing to stare out the window. 

"The first snowfall is all pretty until it turns into sludge that gets in your shoes," Sam comments watching you watch the first snowfall of the winter in New York. The first snowfall you'd ever seen.

"I've never seen so many people before," you quietly marvel, watching the stone faced pedestrians tightly bundled up in their winter coats.

He smiles at your sweet, positive disposition and wide eyed gaze. "You know, you make me like the city like 100 times more. Sometimes I forget how good it can be."

-

"Ugh, I hate it down here."

"Why?" you question, your voice filled with excitement.

"Because it's nasty down here. And loud as hell."

"You mean to tell me there's a place that can take you anywhere you want in the city, at any time, and sometimes there's even people playing music for free- and you don't like it?"

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds cool as hell," he grumbles. 

"It is cool," you insist, watching the train quickly screech to a halt in front the platform.

"There's rats down here."

"Okay, a little less cool," you concede, chuckling as the two of you board the train. 

-

All those moments you thought would last forever, all gone.

And he knew the entire time. He knew you were getting sent away. How long had he known- or had this been the plan the entire time?

All your mind can think was that it was never really there, just some elaborate ruse you created because you desperately craved something you never had. That thought breaks you in a way you didn't think you could be broken anymore.

Those cracks in the foundation, no longer seemed like cracks as your final thread of sanity snaps. Those cracks now seemed insurmountable and those moments that built you, the very structure you once proudly stood on turned out to be gilded and paper thin. The moments you believed in- that you believed if you held on tightly enough could strengthen you, were all lies. It's the only thing that adds up. You fell for smoke and mirrors. 

You'd walked through hell before, but this, this was an entirely new beast. A new version of hell that you could've never imagined. 

You were simply an assignment, and he'd wiped his hands of you, just like Rumlow said he would. You were always just an assignment to him- it's the only conclusion you can come to.

And maybe if they weren't gone, they'd be able to reel you back in, to catch you before you fell headfirst into that familiar dark abyss. To tell you it wasn't true- but they weren't and all you can feel is the sharp sting of betrayal beyond any and all rational thought. 

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, because now those cherished memories aren't just gone. They never really existed. 

Driving in the passenger seat with Bucky with the music blaring and all the windows rolled down.

That night on the rooftop.

All the laughs on the Quinjet.

The countless missions with Sam and Bucky. 

It wasn't real. You were never one of them. It was all a lie.

Your stomach twists painfully as tears begin spilling onto your cheeks. Maybe you'd asked for too much- maybe they were never supposed to be your family. Maybe it wasn't normal to give pieces of your heart to people that never planned on staying. And it hurts, that there might've always been a part of him that was ready to leave you behind. 

The pain starts to overwhelm your senses and paralyzes your capacity to think straight. 

You clutch the wall, desperately trying to hold yourself up. The small window in the debrief room shatters, your emotional turmoil becoming a physical manifestation of your abilities. 

“What the hell?” you hear a guard call from outside the door, obviously having heard the loud shattering. As the handle begins jostling, a large burst of air snaps the door shut before anyone can enter. Without thinking, you crush the small keypad, leaving you without a way out or anyone else a way in. 

Locked in a small room, no one left in your life- you were right back where you started. Right back at square 1. 

Sam had told you many times in your stay with him that you weren't dumb. That you were smart and capable, but in this moment, you felt so incredibly stupid. You should've seen it. Or at least seen it coming. It was always a losing game for you. You were never meant to come out unscathed.

The masterpiece was simply an illusion.

You clutch at the sides of your head, practically pulling at your hair as your legs give out beneath you. You drag yourself back to the door, silent sobs racking through your entire body as you try to plead for someone to let you out.

And suddenly it’s like you're a child again.

You bang on the door, but no words come to mind as you silently beg, plead with your entire being to be let out. But you're so far gone, you can barely hear the thumping on the other side of the door as you continue begging.

One last bang sends large cracks through the cement wall, a large indent in the metal door where you pounded your fist. 

When you do find your voice, still no words remain, just screaming wails of desperation and hurt.

The first time, the ceiling begins to concave above you.

The second time, you bring it down, not quite burying yourself with rubble, but enough that you still can’t escape. Not that you were in a state of mind to plot much of an escape.

The third time, you can hear people screaming- about the large fire starting amongst the rubble, the building coming down. You can’t hear their warnings, still lost in your tailspin. But you can feel the temperature begin to rise around you, wind swirling as you completely lose control of your faculties.

As you lose yourself.

Next Chapter

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

#anonymityisfunwriter #anonymityisfun #grumpy sunshine trope #grumpy x sunshine #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #x reader #inspired by taylor swift #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #all too well

[agentmarcuspike]

⚠️ wip w— whatever, here they are

thank u babies @swiftispunk and @missredherring for tags!

i’m not writing much lately (blaming it on the current flu but haven’t actually written a word in… weeks), and some of these have been in my docs for months, but maybe sharing them will give me some inspo lmao. (i might even have shared these before but anyway)

my hand’s at risk (i fold)

this first one is just some lines i’ve typed down for a marcus pike series i really wanted to write, featuring him, steve murphy, and reader at a safe house

fame flame

so this is one of the illustrations i’ve made for a “dieter bravo dating app first date gone wrong based on personal experience one shot” i’ve started lol, graphic design is my passion

fists of fury

putting this up with a big fat warning because it’s uhhh sensitive: tw mentions of rape and forced pregnancy loss :) it’s a little bit personal, wouldn’t have gone that dark otherwise, but i wish joel miller had been there to avenge me, so i’m writing just that

so!!! let’s see if these go anywhere from here!!!

#wip #writingroom #ahhhhhhhh

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Third Wheel

Beefy!Bucky Barnes x plus size reader

Bedrest really sucks, but Captain America is here to make you feel better!

Warnings: mention of guns and injuries, mention of Steve’s weight

WC: 929

A/N: Take this poll to help me rewrite the MCU!

Minors DNI

It was a stupid thing really. An experiment went wrong in the lab and now, you were stuck on bedrest with a giant blue cast all the way up to the top of your left leg. You had two weeks left stuck in this stupid fucking bed and you were already over it. You had gone through all of the Netflix library and your eyes hurt from reading. So now, Steve has joined you. 

“… and then Fury put me on suspension, can you believe that!” He spoke into your plump stomach as you ran your hand through his blond hair. “You did run into a building full of enemies with only a handgun with one bullet.” You reasoned and he grumbled into your shirt. “I still don’t like it.” He held you tighter making you giggle and put your phone on the bed beside you. 

“Oh I’m sorry, pet. I know it sucks.” “Thank you for understanding me.” He glanced up at you, blue eyes shining through the hair which had fallen in his face. “Always.” He smiled and settled back down on top of you, giving a sigh of relief. “So Stevie, what did you want to get for dinner?” “Greek?” “We had greek last night.” 

He hummed. “Indian?” “Actually, that sounds pretty good.” “What would you do without me?” You giggled and bent over to give his cheek a kiss. “I have no clue.”

“Bucky!” You shouted into the apartment. After a beat of silence a very disgruntled voice called back. “What!” “Do you want Indian tonight?!” He didn’t answer back, instead the tell-tale thuds of his boots came down the hallway. Bucky appeared from around the corner, a deep frown on his face. His dark brown hair was falling out of the low bun he put it in this morning and he was still wearing the jeans and henley he put on to go into HQ to turn in his mission report.

“I was going to cook tonight.” He grumbled, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his bulky arms over his chest to look disapprovingly down at the two of you. You perked up and gave him a big smile. “Oooo really? It’s been forever since you’ve cooked Jamie. We’d love anything you made.” Bucky smiled warmly at you but Steve lifted his head again and glared at his best friend. “You can’t cook.”

Bucky scoffed. “I’ve cooked for you plenty of times. I have literally nursed you back to health on my cooking.” Steve’s eyes narrowed even more. “That was during the Depression, we’re in the future now!” He waved his arms wildly as if to prove his point. “Well I’m trying to get that one better so she can actually get out of bed instead of having a 250 pound golden retriever pin her to the mattress when he wants to whine like a toddler.” 

Steve’s lower lip stuck out in a pout and hugged you tighter. “Jamie, that wasn’t nice.” You scolded. Bucky rolled his eyes. “He’s literally in my bed cuddling my wife. I think I’m allowed to be a little pissed off.” “She was my best friend before she was your wife.” Steve countered. Reaching your left hand out, your wedding bands conveniently glittering in the evening sun, you reached for your husband. He, of course, could never deny you, so he dragged his feet over to the bed and took your hand, kissing your knuckles. 

“Give Stevie a break, you know him and Sam are going through a tough time.” “Yeah and Sam’s making it my problem.” He huffed, sitting carefully in the pace next to you, trying not to jostle your leg too much and wrapped his arm around your thick waist, resting his head on top of yours. “Oh I’m sorry baby.” You brought his metal arm up to your lips and gave each of the vibranium fingers a small peck. 

Steve took that moment to poke your side and draw your attention back to him. “Hey! I’m the one with all the problems, I should be getting the attention.” “Like an actual kid, oh my god.” Bucky’s head fell back in frustration while you just laughed and kept stroking the other man’s hair with your right hand while your left intertwined your fingers with your husband’s. 

A knock on the door jamb made all of you turn to look at whoever had come into your house without you or the two super soldiers hearing. “Hey um, could I borrow Steve for a minute?” Sam looked sheepishly down at his boyfriend, trying to avoid eye contact with you and Bucky. When Steve didn’t move, you brought your one good leg up and promptly kicked him in the stomach, he gave out a grunt of pain and landed on his side on the floor. 

Bucky chuckled quietly into your hair. “Go on punk, we’ll be here if you need us,” He glanced up at Sam, “And for you too, Pigeon.” Sam gave a nod of thanks and walked away, presumably out of the house. Steve was frozen for a second then scrambled up onto his feet and ran after the other man.

“Not even a thank you for putting up with him. I swear I raised him better than that.” You giggled and settled into his arms, sighing as the familiar warmth enveloped you and you rested your head on his muscular peck. “You’re such a good dad.” You joked. “Yeah yeah.” He gave your plump body a squeeze before speaking again. “So Indian?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

#beefy!bucky x plus size reader #female reader #plus size reader #reader insert #fluff #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #james barnes x plus size reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #platonic!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x sam wilson

[pinkiepiebones]

Remember that horrible angst-fest I wrote? 1) it's on AO3 now with some bonus content and 2) here is a second part (BIG WARNINGS FOR SELF HARM YEEHAW ZOMBIE DID A WHUMP)

Robert does not know what day it is. The sunlight comes and goes.

Sometimes he wakes up on his bed.

Sometimes he wakes up on the floor of the asylum.

Or in the water-logged belly of the Vesta.

Or under shovelfuls of sour dirt.

"I am enough, and I have enough" he pointedly tells his reflection, his potted plants, his empty refrigerator. When had he last eaten anything? Did it matter?

You don't deserve to eat. Say it.

"I am enough."

Are you talking to yourself?

"I have… enough."

His phone chirps a lot. Then less frequently. Then it dies. Is someone knocking? He can't tell. He's been pacing a lot. Sounds and smells are TV static on his senses, rough but easy enough to ignore.

Robert only has two mirrors in his apartment- the one above the wash basin, fastened to the wall when he first arrived, and a longer, slender mirror meant to hang on the back of a door but, ever since he bought it, just sits on the floor, leaned against the awkward span of wall opposite his bed.

He shatters it in a panicked rage when he sees Master behind him.

Robert sits for a while in the middle of the pieces. He picks up pieces and squeezes them in his fists and idly watches his blood drip and slink into the shag carpet. He giggles.

"The blood is the life," he singsongs as he licks his palms. The bits of mirror sting in his throat. It's the first feeling he's felt in days. Days? Surely it's just days. Maybe it's been weeks. Hard to tell at sea.

He picks up a particularly large shard and stares at the stranger inside it.

"He doesn't have a reflection, you fucking idiot" he sneers to the sad-eyed man. He contemplates crunching the offending shard in his teeth, curious what would happen, when someone knocks loudly at the door of his cell.

<i>No, that's not right.</i>

Robert stands up and stretches. He steps on slivers of mirror as he crosses his apartment to get to the door. He hesitates because the knob is gone, replaced by a mildewed rope he pulls to open the crate he hides in during the day. At night he gets out and unlock's Mas-

No, God damn it! Stop!

"Robert?"

Robert takes a deep breath. Rebecca's voice is right beyond the door but it sounds so far away. He fumbles with the lock, sticky dried blood coating his palms and fingers, splinters of glass still lodged in his skin.

He opens the door just a crack. He bought a little door chain at some point. Keeps the door from opening very wide. He peeks out.

"Holy fuck, you look like shit."

"Nice to see you too, Rebecca."

She looks upset. Is she upset? She's upset with you. You did something wrong. You always do something wrong.

"No one's heard from you in days. Your voicemail's full."

"My phone died."

Rebecca takes a hesitant step closer to the door. Robert stiffens and pushes just slightly, afraid to close it completely.

"Robert." Her voice is gentle, unassuming. "Are you okay?"

Robert thinks.

He is in the asylum and he is sneering at Van Helsing. Stupid, stupid little man, and his stupid ideas. He would dare to try and harm Mas-

Robert swallows and says hoarsely, "probably not."

"Probably not?"

"Been having flashbacks. 'm not grounded in, in the present. Hurt-" He looks away from the outside world, nauseated. "I've hurt myself. More than once."

Rebecca doesn't yell. She doesn't chide or deride. She simply says,

"Is it okay if I come in?"

He glances behind him. He looks at his hands. He looks at Master approaching him on the staircase at the Abbey, fury and hatred in his eyes.

"N-no," he answers. "I- L-let me, uh, pick up the, I broke a mirror, earlier, I think-"

"Okay."

Robert frowns. "Okay?"

Rebecca nods. "I'll be right here, and if you decide after you pick up that you still don't want me to come in, I won't push."

Robert picks at the skin around his fingernails. "You won't?"

"No." She gives him a stern, but worried look. "But I will have to make a call, because you have told me you hurt yourself and you might try to hurt yourself again."

Robert glares at her. He glares at Doctor Seward.

"Are you treating me like a suspect in something?"

Rebecca looks surprised and she raises her hands defensively. "No, no, fuck no. I'm here because I'm worried about you, man. You're my friend."

Robert chuckles. Friend. Sure.

Robert closes his door and unlatches the chain.

"Enter freely, and of your own will" he mutters.

Hnn, hnn, hnn, hnn, hnnnnn.

#robbie don't look #renfield #what if he wasn't actually okay when the movie ended

[mneiai]

For the DA prompts, DA:I - anything that deals with the way you can screw up table missions until the elf inquisitor to lose their entire clan. (And a table mission being the ONLY TIME THIS IS ACKNOWLEDGED OR MENTIONED IN THE GAME OMFG.) Your choice of characters but even years later I'm salty about BioWare dropping the ball BIG TIME on this and will seek out any and all opportunities to redress this CRIME OF STORYTELLING.

Omg I hate those missions! The fact there's like one right choice each time or else they and/or a bunch of other people die and even if it basically worked the last round it kills them the next time you choose it or vice versa fills me with fury every time! How are those even equivalent to shit like some Trevalyn cousins pretending to be closer to the Inquisitor than they are and everything basically working out regardless of your choice? It's like top 3 worst advisor choice moments.

Request Post Is Here

So, the first time I played an elven Inquisitor they were a female elf romancing Cullen and that's sort of always stuck in my head.

This is set immediately after the results of the last choice.

XxX

News of Clan Lavellan's fate cast a sober air across the Inquisition. Cullen still sent troops on the off chance that some of her clan yet survived, but Ellana had little hope.

She had been cautious, over and over again, choosing more often than not to avoid using their troops in case her clan thought they were under attack or the people decided to retaliate against them once the troops were no longer there, but now she wished she hadn't.

In her dreams, she sends twice the number Cullen would have. And Elven scouts before them so Deshanna was warned. A letter would be sent back, scolding her for being so overprotective, but with undertones of love.

Ellana would never receive another letter from her clan. She'd never hear Deshanna's gentle voice or the laughter of the children or....

Spread around her on the floor of her room was every piece of correspondence, every note and recommendation her Advisors had given about her clan. She could trace the horrible path of destruction and distrust, could see exactly where, suddenly, she'd had too much hope. Too much faith.

She'd been spending too long among the shems, had internalized too much of her position and titles.

"There's no telling if it would have gone differently." Cullen's voice pulled her from the downward spiral of her thoughts and she looked up to see him at the top of her stairs, Cole peeking at her through the railing lower down them.

"They would not have attacked the Inquisition! Some of these cities are Inquisition allies!" she gave the protest that had been swimming in her head for hours, since the news had first reached them.

He walked forward, kneeling on the floor on the other side of the pile before he was too close and looming too tall. Perhaps all of his time praying had made him sensitive to such things and she still had enough reason left within her to appreciate it.

Reaching out, hesitating just long enough that she could have stopped him, he took up one of Leliana's recommendations, smoothing down the wrinkles Ellana had made as she gripped it. "Though a lie might bring you comfort, I cannot offer one. You will never stop second-guessing your choices in this. The pain will become duller, less pronounced. Eventually you might go days, even weeks without thinking of it. And while it does not help now, at least you will have the comfort in knowing you were trying to do what was best, to save as many lives as possible."

"By hesitating, by using shem diplomacy when I should have shown my power," she bit out, her hand back on his final recommendation, the one she hadn't taken.

Cullen shook his head. "When this first started...do you remember, those weeks ago? I recommended sending troops in immediately," he gave a wry, humorless smile, "I fear that is my answer to most anything these days. In retrospect, I know that would have been the wrong choice. If...if it was the right choice this time--and we cannot know that--you were still not wrong to hesitate."

She let herself dwell on those words, remembering the recommendation he spoke of as she had only just reread it. He'd backed down as soon as she pointed out that her clan might react poorly to shem troops marching towards them. And she still knew she'd been right on that account.

"You each offer advice based on your expertise and I don't push you for more. You're no diplomat, but if I'd had you reach out to the other city-states instead of Josie, it might have gone differently." She knew he had close contacts high up in Kirkwall and Starkhaven, ones who might have been willing to leverage their own connections in the rest of the Marches.

"I...don't know." He wanted to say more, she could tell, could imagine him wondering if the people he knew had done less than their best because it was a stranger asking--she had not meant to give him another reason to blame himself, they both had more than enough of that.

When she'd pulled out these notes, she'd seen files upon files of other ones. All of the records of the important missions were kept in the same place, at least the ones that wouldn't give too much away if spies got ahold of them. It had reminded her of other choices she'd made, of other results they'd had.

How many people had she gotten killed over the last year, by doing what felt like the right thing?

Horribly, none of that mattered as much as this time. No one else mattered as much as her family had.

She was expected to save the world, but she couldn't even protect the people who mattered most to her.

"Ellana." Cullen interrupted her thoughts again.

His odd shem eyes were bright with unshed tears--for her grief, for her pain. She crawled across the strewn papers to push into his arms, uncaring if the hesitant thing between them allowed for such closeness. For now she just needed to soak up the warmth in his broad form and pretend like her world wasn't falling apart while she was tasked to keep everyone else's together.

#drverstehen1 #dragon age fic #ask answers

[septembersghost]

u really bouta make me rewatch bates motel omg. i .. i have a confession, i never finished the last season after the thing happened. i was just so sad and took a break that ended up taking a long time but now i think im strong enough lol

you should do it!!!

full disclosure, i finished S4 in march (i distinctly remember feeling like it should've been december, because 4x10 is the saddest christmas episode of anything you could ever watch in your life), and i still have three episodes left in S5. this is partially because i've been dragging it out intentionally as i haven't been ready to say goodbye to it, and partially because after speeding through S1-4 in like six weeks, getting to that loss - even knowing it was coming all along - hit me quite heavily and i needed to sit with it for a while rather than quickly wrapping the story up. (i CANNOT hear "mr. sandman" without tears springing to my eyes. bring me a dream...)

vera was ROBBED in never getting an emmy for her performance (freddie too, imo, not to mention the episodes he wrote!), i honestly consider her to have given one of the most affecting and multilayered performances of a female character. it would be so easy to only make norma a victim, or a villain even, and she is never reduced to that, she's so fully formed and felt and wonderful (even when she's awful. she's allowed).

there's a post i have that had the best description from a review: “I'll always remember Norma Bates at her most indefatigable. Despite her perpetual suspicion that the world was out to stick it to her and her family, Norma could rise to a challenge like few others. Remember when she first moved in to that big drafty old house? She didn’t see the cracks and the peeling paint; she saw opportunity. Norma was like that, always seeing chances where others might presume dead ends. And if she decided you were on her side, she was fiercely loyal. She didn’t let many people in, but when she did, she was all in. For all her flaws, she was a hell of a woman. Still, we come here not to bury Norma Bates, but to praise her. Because what this season of Bates Motel has shown us is that Norma was never just a victim of her own impulsive and stubborn neuroses. She was a victim of circumstance; freed from the claustrophobic air of her codependent relationship with her son, Norma blossomed. She found love and a measure of contentment, however fleeting. Even when she was denying to everyone, including herself, just how dangerous Norman was, she managed to rise above her traumas and insecurities, and build a marriage with a good man. It was a revelation watching Vera Farmiga this year. Who knew she’d been concealing a gentle and understated romantic beneath those layers of Norma Bates’ high-camp hijinks all this time? Farmiga was always very, very good: This season, she was superlative.”

part of norma's tragedy, of course, is she and norman would never be able to escape that codependency, they are bound together inextricably, and she would always choose him over everyone, and he would always want to keep her, and they would never be able to protect each other, and it would always be like fire and powder.

that said, the show doesn't take that lightly - norma's absence is felt everywhere, by everyone, it emotionally drives the season - and i don't know if you've ever seen psycho, but the way the writers took that and reimagined it is masterful. i screamed at the way the actual marion crane plot played out. also, mother is an incredible, terrifying character - all the warmth that norma had, the life in her, her love and her bravery, her fury and her compassion, is gone. if norma was the sun, mother is icy winter, shrewd and calculating, her anger a different dagger than norma's ever could have been, and even when there's some measure of anything resembling affection from her, it's wrong. it's worth watching just to see vera in that performance. freddie was also amazing and got to do so much to flesh norman out and to speak to his mental state as it unravels, as he becomes more aware of the horror around him but struggles with knowing how to stop it.

i think S4 is a perfect, though heartbreaking, season of television, and S5 directly draws from that. though i haven't seen it yet, i do know how it ends and it's fitting, and i know i will cry.

they did something that on paper sounds like an awful idea - who asked for a prequel/reimagining of a classic film, right? - and found such a cool way to tell it, to make those characters breathe, to handle it with some humor (camp, even, at times) and with gravity (especially in regards to the perspective it has on the impact of such relentless trauma that both norma and norman endure). i'm rambling, but the way they found real depths of humanity and such a beating heart in it, in its characters, in not turning a blind eye to the terrible things they do and yet never judging them for it, but digging in closer to find some understanding for them, in illuminating all different kinds of love in their power and terror and agony and beauty, in love's destruction and renewal, makes the show really affecting to me.

#it's a tough show and definitely one i'd include many trigger warnings for before i'd recommend it #but if you've seen through S4 you already know the hard parts #i love when people talk to me about it because the fandom doesn't really exist anymore! i will wax on about it ANY time #anonymous #letterbox #bates motel #norma bates #vera farmiga #freddie highmore #also nestor and max and olivia were all also so good imo

[silvfyre-writings]

Aizawa Cares Pt. 2 (MHA Fanfic)

I'm on a role with writing this apparently. Be prepared to deal with just this for a bit.

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Kaminari had learnt very quickly upon entering UA that him getting accepted onto the hero course was an absolute fluke. He didn’t know how he’d done it, but he’d somehow managed to pass the written portion of the entrance exam, and he’d managed to score enough points on the practical to get his foot in the door. But now? Now he was lucky to pass the quizzes that the teachers set for his class. And don’t even remind him about the midterms. Or the finals. It made him shudder every time to even think about his scores then. Kaminari knew that he was the bottom of the class, and while his classmates might like to remind him of it, it didn’t mean that he liked to be reminded of his stupidity. He tried not to let his friend’s words get to him, after all, they were only teasing and they teased everybody, not just him, but it was hard not to let every comment cut deep. At least Bakugo calling him ‘Dunce-face’ was just the explosive teens way of showing that they were friends.

So why was he in the men’s restroom, sitting on one of the toilets and crying after the boy had done exactly that?

He knew why of course. He wasn’t that stupid. Clenched in one of his fists was his latest test, the big red score at the top of the paper indicating that he’d once again, failed. And spectacularly at that. Kaminari’s classmates had immediately compared test scores of course, most of them cheering at how well they’d done. It’d brought a smile to his face to see Kirishima and Ashido so excited over passing the test. Bakugo and Yaoyorozu’s tutoring had done the two a lot of good. Unlike him. He’d accepted tutoring from Bakugo this time, hoping that his friend’s method of tutoring would work. And it hadn’t.

“Oh Kami…” Ashido’s face had fallen when she’d caught sight of his test score.

“It’s fine!” Kaminari had covered his test score, plastering a strained smile on his face. “There’s always next time!”

“Oi.” Bakugo had stormed up to him. “You passed that mock test I gave you Dunce-face, so what the fuck happened?”

Kaminari had tried to laugh it off. “I guess I just got distracted, that’s all. Sorry you wasted your time, Bakugo.”

Bakugo had stared at him intensely before clicking his tongue and storming off without saying a word.

“Kaminari? Are you okay?” Kirishima’s voice called out, drawing Kaminari back into the present. Quickly, he rubbed his arm across his face to try and scrub away the evidence that he’d been crying, although he was sure that his eyes were red and puffy anyways.

“I’m fine!” Kaminari shoved is test into one of his bags pockets before leaving the toilet stall, silently begging Kirishima to not say anything. “Did I miss the bell or something?”

He felt his friends gaze linger on him before the redheaded boy slung an arm around Kaminari’s shoulder, leading him from the bathroom. “Nah, you just disappeared real quick so I wanted to make sure everything was fine. Besides, one of the business course students picked a fight with Bakugo.”

“Oh my god.” Kaminari could only imagine how well that had gone down. “Evacuation?”

“Evacuation.” Kirishima confirmed with a nod. Silence passed between the two before they both burst into laughter. It wasn’t uncommon for the cafeteria to be evacuated at least once a week after someone’s quirk went off, something that Kaminari knew drove the teachers insane. Especially since most of the time it was Bakugo exploding some poor student that had wronged him in some way that set off the fire system. “You should’ve seen Aizawa-sensei’s face when he walked in!”

Kaminari shuddered as he imagined the look of fury that would no doubt have been on his homeroom teachers face upon walking into such a scene. Aizawa-sensei was terrifying when he wanted to be and Kaminari had no doubt the man could reduce villains to tears with just a glare if he tried. Who needed to erase people’s quirk when you could just stare at them until they submitted?

“Kirishima! Kaminari!” Ashido waved at them from her desk where Jirou and Sero were already sitting, eating what remained of their lunches.

Kaminari smiled and waved back, dragging another desk to make more room for he and his friends to spread out over. “So you guys escaped the chaos?”

“Yep!” Ashido laughed. “We fled the moment Bakugo went after that poor student. The rest of our class? Not so lucky.”

The group of friends jolted as the classroom door slammed open. And as if Ashido’s words had summoned them, the rest of Kaminari’s classmates trudged into the room, all of them looking irritated and miserable at the same time, water dripping from their uniforms. Kaminari’s heart panged in sympathy, having been caught by the cafeteria’s extremely sensitive fire system more than once himself.

“You guys, okay?” Kaminari found himself asking. There probably wasn’t much he could really do to help his soaked classmates, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

“We’re alright, no thanks to Bakugo.” Sato grumbled. “Yaoyorozu’s making us some towels so we can dry off. Thanks for checking on us though.”

Kaminari smiled. Making sure that his classmates were happy was the one thing he was good at doing after all. He took pride in every smile that he managed to bring to someone’s face, no matter the reason they were feeling down. Hell, if he couldn’t make them smile, then he’d just sit with them in silent company, something that his less chatty classmates appreciated. There was something about helping his friends that made him happy.

It’s hopeless. I’m never going to become a hero at this rate. Kaminari curled in on himself at his desk, biting back tears. No way would be start crying in class. No way. But the longer he stared at the test that Ectoplasm-sensei had handed back, the more he could feel the tears building in his eyes. He scrubbed a hand across his face before any of them could drip down his face.

“Kaminari.”

He looked up into his teacher’s face, watching the stern expression soften slightly. “Yes, Sensei?”

“Are you alright? You usually score better than this.” His teacher asked, concern laced throughout his voice.

Kaminari dropped his eyes to stare at his desk. “I’ll try harder next time, Sensei.” He heard his teacher hum quietly to himself before moving on to the person behind him. Kaminari bit back a sob. There was no helping him at this point, he was just too stupid to do this. He had tried so hard to study for this test. He had studied every night, going over each problem until he could finally do it, and yet when it had come to actually doing the test, he’d been unable to remember how to solve most of the problems. And it frustrated him because he knew how to solve them, but he just couldn’t remember how to when it mattered the most.

The moment that the bell rang to signify the end of the day, Kaminari was out of his seat and out the door, ignoring the calls of his friends as he fled the stifling classroom. Stupid, so fucking stupid. Can’t even pass a simple math test. Can’t even go through one heroics class without becoming an idiot either. Kaminari thought angrily as he stormed towards the dorms, the tears he’d been fighting back finally escaping, sobs tearing themselves from his chest. His whole day had just been terrible, nothing going right one bit. He could tell that his teachers were getting tired with every mistake he made during their classes, and frustrated with his declining grades. Not that he understood why they were getting made about his grades. He was already the bottom of the class after all.

Once he’d made it to the dorms, Kaminari opened the door and rushed to his room, slamming the door behind him and throwing his bag into the corner to be dealt with later. He collapsed onto his bed, and screamed into his pillow before he just broke down into sobs, shoulders shaking with each one. He was interrupted by a knock on his door. Just how long had he been crying for?

“Kami?” It was Ashido’s voice. Kaminari pushed himself up and tucked himself into the corner where his bed met the wall. “Kami, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Kaminari called back, wincing at how his voice croaked. “I’d… I’d just like to be alone for now, Mina.”

“Okay… text us if you need anything?”

“Will do.” Kaminari listened as the footsteps faded away. He appreciated his friend coming to check on him, and normally, he would’ve let her in and accepted the warm hug she no doubt would’ve given him. But there was only so much pity he could take from his friends when it came to his test scores, and right now, he’d just much rather break down in the privacy of his own room right now than have them trying to comfort him.

~~~

“He seemed rather distressed after I handed back his test today. His grades in my class have always been low, but this is the worst score Kaminari’s gotten since the start of the year. I fear that there may be something else going on with the boy.” Aizawa listened as Ectoplasm explained his concerns. In his hand was a copy of Kaminari’s most recent test that Ectoplasm had given, the failing grade glaring at him from the top of the page.

“Hmm…” Aizawa responded, flicking through the pages and thinking hard about how to approach this issue with his student. Ectoplasm wasn’t the first of 1-A’s teachers to come to him with concern about Kaminari’s grades. He placed the test down on his desk where copies of Kaminari’s tests from his other classes also lay. It was clear that the boy was struggling, but he’d never been afraid to ask for help in understanding the material before. So what had changed?

“Do you think it’s test anxiety, Eraser?” Ectoplasm asked, taking a seat at the desk beside Aizawa’s own. “He always looks like he’s about to have a breakdown whenever a test comes around in my class.”

“Could be.” Aizawa sighed. “Although it could just be mathematics that he struggles with. Mic has said that Kaminari has no issues in his class, although his grades are still poor.” Leaning back in his chair, he glanced over at Ectoplasm. “Leave it with me and I’ll talk to him when I go and do the dorm check. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

Ectoplasm gave a short nod before he stood and left the room, leaving Aizawa alone to continue to shift through Kaminari’s test results, trying to understand what had caused the sudden decline in his grades. It’s been a few months since the training camp and Hound Dog said that he hadn’t noticed anything concerning in their session… and he passed the license exam… so what’s going on with you, Kaminari?

Aizawa let out a deep sigh before he stood from his desk. Sitting here and thinking wasn’t going to help him solve this problem, so he began to make the five-minute trek to 1-A’s dorm. His colleague had said Kaminari was distressed, so he’d go make sure the boy was okay. He was sure that his student would have his closest friends by his side, as they were the kind of kids that would stick by a friend in distress no matter what. So when he entered the dorm and saw Ashido and the rest of Kaminari’s friends on the couch, a seed of worry began to bloom within him.

“Ashido.” He called, waiting for the girl to acknowledge him before he continued. “Where’s Kaminari?”

Immediately, Ashido’s face crumpled and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Sensei! Can you help him? He seemed so upset after we got our tests back from Ectoplasm-sensei today, but he stormed off before we could speak to him. And when we got back, he was already in his room, and he said he wanted to be alone!”

“I’m going to speak with him, yes.” Aizawa dodged the question of whether he was going to help Kaminari, since he didn’t even know if he’d be able to in the first place. “But first, has something happened to Kaminari recently?”

The small group of friends turned to look at each other before they turned back to him. “No, I don’t think so.” Kirishima frowned. “We did get to visit home a few weeks ago though? But Kami never said anything happened.”

Aizawa nodded and made his way up towards the third floor where Kaminari resided. Some of his students greeted him as he passed them, no doubt on their way down to make themselves dinner. There was a part of him that couldn’t believe that these teenagers were capable of cooking, considering how little self-preservation they seemed to have, and the other part was proud that they could look after themselves somewhat. Of course that didn’t mean the dorms escaped from having kitchen disasters every now and then. These were teenagers after all. Teenagers with a multitude of different quirks spread amongst them.

“Kaminari.” Aizawa knocked on his student’s door. “May I come in?”

“Sensei! Uh, sure, I guess.” Came Kaminari’s voice through the door. Aizawa carefully turned the handle and let himself into the room, taking note of the tear tracks running down Kaminari’s cheeks and the bloodshot eyes that came from crying. He caught himself before he stared for too long. His student was already embarrassed enough from the look of it. Instead, Aizawa walked over to Kaminari’s desk, pulled out the chair and sat facing his student’s bed, resting his head on a hand.

“Is there something going on?”

Kaminari looked stunned, suddenly finding his sheets more interesting. “N-No. Nothing’s going on.”

“So why are all your teachers coming to me about the sudden decline in your grades?” Silence followed his question. “If it’s test anxiety then you need to tell us. We can help find another way for you to take your tests. If it’s something personal, then tell me. I might be able to help, and if I can’t, I’ll at least listen to you. But we can’t help you if you won’t talk to us, Kaminari.”

Aizawa waited patiently while a thoughtful expression crossed Kaminari’s face. He knew that some of his students needed a moment to think before they spoke, so he was more than happy to give them that moment if it meant they’d talk to him. He would always listen to and believe his students, no matter what the situation was. His co-workers could mock him for all eternity, but the joke was on them because his method worked. His students talked to him when they had something going on. Most of the time at least.

“Sensei…” Kaminari finally spoke. “Am I stupid?”

“No.” Aizawa said without a hint of hesitation. To his shock, Kaminari teared up.

“So why do I keep failing?” A sob broke from Kaminari’s chest, the boy pulling his knees to his chest and shoving his face into them. “Why can’t I just—why can’t I do anything right? I’m just the idiot of the class that can’t do anything right! I study so, so much, but the moment it comes to a test, I can’t remember. I try so hard at training just to have to sit out because I can’t control my quirk properly! And everyone makes fun of how stupid I am, so I must be stupid.”

“Enough.” Aizawa said. It hurt to hear his student being so harsh on himself, and he wouldn’t let it continue. “You aren’t stupid, Kaminari.”

“Then what am I?”

“You’re you. You’re the one that brightens the classroom with his presence. You’re the one who knows how to cheer up his classmates when they’re having a tough day. And right now, you’re struggling.” Aizawa said with a gentle tone, getting up from the chair to sit on the edge of Kaminari’s bed. He reached out and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And it’s okay to be struggling.”

It appeared that that was the correct thing to say, for Kaminari’s gaze finally lifted to meet Aizawa’s own. And seconds later, he had a student clutching at his shirt, Kaminari burying his face into Aizawa’s chest, shoulders shaking. Aizawa wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, and just held him.

“My parents weren’t pleased with my grades when we were allowed to visit home.” Kaminari said once he’d finally calmed down. He showed no signs of moving, not that Aizawa was going to move either. He just sat there and listened to his student talk. “They’ve never called me stupid to my face, but I can tell they’re disappointed in me every time they see my grades. And it’s—it’s different ya know? Cause I know that Jirou and Mina are just teasing. I know that Bakugo calling me ‘Dunce-face’ is just what he does. But—but it hurts when your own parents give up on you…”

Aizawa brought his other arm around to wrap Kaminari into a proper hug. “Is that what started this?” He feels Kaminari nod against his chest. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You said…” Kaminari began before trailing off.

“What is it?”

“You said—you said that you could help me?”

“I did.” Aizawa confirmed.

“How?”

“We can start by doing some tutoring after school. We’ll try different methods to find what works for you. And we can also give your tests to you in a different way to the rest of your classmates. It might take some time to find what works, but we’d be poor teachers if we just gave up on you, Kaminari.” Aizawa squeezed his student’s shoulders in reassurance before pulling away from the boy, looking at the tear-stained face in sympathy.

“So I’m not stupid?” Kaminari croaked.

“No, you’re not stupid. You just learn differently.” Aizawa gave one of his rare smiles, the worry inside him dissipating as Kaminari gave him one in return. “Come see me after school, problem child, and we’ll sort out a new study schedule for you.”

“Okay.” Kaminari paused for a moment. “Thank you, Aizawa-sensei.”

Aizawa stood and ruffled Kaminari’s hair. “It’s nothing. Now I believe you have some friends down in the common room who’ve been itching to check on you. Might be worth letting them know.”

“I will, Sensei.”

“Good.” Aizawa reached over and squeezed Kaminari’s shoulder once more before quietly leaving the room. He wanted to get back to the teacher dorms so that he could plot of a way to murder Kaminari’s parents and get away with it. And also design a new study plan to help the boy improve his grades. But mostly plot murder.

#mha #mha fanfic #kaminari denki #fanfiction #writing #dadzawa #aizawa shota