#i didnt mean for it to get this long

[bcksbarnes]

between a dream - final

pairing: tws!bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky barnes has just found out his entire life has been a lie. that his life as the winter solider has been nothing but mind control. instead of running off after his fight with steve, he returns to the avengers tower where he trusts no one. everyone takes turn on watch, and this time it's yours.

word count: 9.2K

read the: previous chapter

a/n: thank you all for the love and support with this fic! this has been such a wonderful series to write for. i hope you all like the last chapter! + shoutout to whoever sent in this prompt

To say that Steve was angry after he found out what happened in the training room was the understatement of the year. Steve rarely got upset … unless it had to do with someone on his team getting hurt, then yeah he was pissed . 

You had been called into Steve’s office a few minutes prior, blindsided by his immediate anger. The office was more modern than the man himself, though the exposed steel beams reminded him of the industrial life in Brooklyn he once had, a personal touch from Tony. But, the floor to ceiling windows, the cool grey and blue tones, and everything feeling high tech made him itch. 

The vein that ran down his neck popped, strained from how red his face was. You had been through hell and back with Steve out there in missions, there was always a chance you’d get hurt, but for some reason this ? This seemed to tick him off.

“You could have died!” He yelled, though he didn’t mean it in a way to talk down to you, but more in a way where he was concerned for your safety. “We had one rule! One !”

Steve’s hand slams down on the table in front of you, the loud smack echoing in the room and ringing in your eardrums causing you to wince. You weren’t exactly sure how he found out about Bucky’s lapse of judgement in the training room, you certainly didn’t tell him because you knew he would act like this, you knew he would get upset.

“Goddamnit!” Steve snapped again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathed out your name like a curse. “We’re pulling you out of there.”

“No!” You quickly interjected, standing up from your seat so fast that you didn’t register it had fallen back until you heard the soft thud against the carpet. “No, you can’t pull me out of there. It won’t happen again.”

“I told you when we talked about this that if he did anything out of line we were pulling you out of there. Did I not make myself clear?” 

“Steve –.”

“I said, did I not make myself clear?” He cuts you off, his voice thick with emotion and anger.

Of course you remembered what Steve had said, it was the sole reason you didn’t run to tell him about Bucky’s … episode. How did he expect Bucky to come to his senses in a week? 

“You’re not pulling me out of there.” You said back, your voice cracking slightly. The anger rose in your chest; you could feel it stick to you like honey. “A week is not long enough to train anyone. One session was not enough to expect him to snap out of this. You know that.”

Steve wants to argue with you, he wants to knock some sense into you and make you see his fear. Bucky’s not well and he knows it’s hard for him to even admit that about his best friend, it was the very over complicated truth. But the way his eyebrows raise at your words tells you that he’s momentarily reconsidering. 

It was your chance to persuade him again .

“Come on, Steve. If no one took a chance on you then you wouldn’t be here.” You remind him, taking a step forward. “I was never expecting this to be easy, I know he can snap at any moment, but someone’s gotta help him. He has to trust one of us.”

Steve’s anger had seemed to simmer for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gently swallowed all his anxiety.

“And, I know my limits, I know what I can handle.”

It seems like this entire week has been you begging Steve to see your side of things. You understand his hesitancy, the way that he wanted to protect you and Bucky, but you knew that treating him like a vicious animal was only going to end up hurting him more.

“I’ll go talk to him.” You say, standing your ground. “We'll figure something out.”

Steve lets out a sigh, a silent cue that he’s been persuaded by your efforts. He knows it’s not worth the argument, because you’re going to do what you want anyway. Gesturing vaguely towards the door, Steve watched as you quickly made your way out of the office, bending down to pick up the chair you had dropped.

All you could think about on your way back to the dorm room were one very important question: how did Steve know about the incident?

You shake your head as you push open the door; the room was dark, silence lingering in the air and you could just make out Bucky’s outline under his sheets. It was comical how giant he was in comparison to the size of the bed, but you were in no laughing mood. 

Using the darkness to your advantage, you quickly got ready for bed tossing on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. It felt like your mind couldn’t stop thinking like it was running a million miles a minute.

How the hell were you going to try and train Bucky without him killing you?

It seemed impossible the more you thought about it because, unfortunately, Steve was right. Bucky could overpower you in every scenario. 

You didn’t even know where to begin with working with someone who is clearly in need of an intensive psych eval, which no one would be able to perform until Bucky got his temper under control … which was your job. A vicious cycle that all pointed back to you.

You approached your bed with a sinking feeling in your chest, the anxiety eating you alive as you pulled back the covers, sinking down onto the mattress. The sheets were cold from the lack of body heat, and a bit scratchy, making you more uncomfortable than you already were.

You can’t help but let out a loud sigh, your palms pushing into your eyeballs as you try to not let the weight of the last few days linger too long. 

“You’re doing that thing again.” 

The voice startles you, your hands pulling away from your face almost immediately. 

It was Bucky.

His voice was a bit muffled since he was facing the wall, his way of shutting you out, but the room soon filled with sounds of the blankets shifting as he turned on his other side to face you.

“Doing what thing ?” You asked, a frown on your features though he couldn’t see it.

“Overthinking.”

It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, because did Bucky even know you enough to know the signs? You didn’t think so, though he would argue otherwise. Because despite how quiet and reserved he was, Bucky paid attention.

“Lucky guess.” You mumble, shaking your head. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Yeah, and I thought you were grabbing a drink.” He says quickly, like he was waiting for a fight.

Another sigh leaves your lips, you could feel him staring at the side of your face, but refused to turn your head to meet his gaze. You could understand that he didn’t appreciate your little white lie, but deception wasn’t your motive here, you didn’t need him getting involved in this conversation with Steve.

“Steve’s right, you shouldn’t be training me anymore.” He breaks through the silence, his voice unwavering.

“What the hell do you know about Steve being right? You couldn’t stand the guy yesterday.” Your response is quick and snippy, even if your brain was telling you it sounded harsh there was no stopping you now.. You were wound up like a rubberband, and you were ready to snap.

“Isn’t that what you went to do? Go talk to Steve?” It sounds like a question he already knew the answer to.

“I’m not answering that.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He presses for more.

“Bucky, it’s not important what I went to do. Okay? Let’s drop it.”

You really weren’t in the mood to have this conversation, especially not now. 

Staring up at the ceiling, you run your hand through your hair gripping it a little tighter than normal as if you wanted to rip it out of your head. Frustration seeped into your bones at this feeling that nestled itself deep into your bones. Bucky didn’t need fixing, he needed someone to guide him and all you wanted to do was show him that he’s more than the monster inside. Kinda hard to do when the monster had already showed himself.

“I told him.” 

And there it was. The answer to the nagging question you had all night. 

A chill suddenly runs through the room, the crackling of silence lingering in the air as you let out a shaky breath. Bucky had done nothing but talk about how little he trusted Steve, but the second something went wrong in your training session he ran right over to tell him. It felt like a betrayal, a knife right to your back.

“You what ?” You ask, feeling taken aback by his admission. Sitting up in the bed and turning your head to face in his general direction, you can feel the anger clawing at your chest again.

“I said , I told him.” Bucky repeats himself as he mimics your position and sits up now, the sheet slides off his torso as he swings his legs to hang off the edge of the bed.

Maybe it wasn’t his best idea to go to Steve, but after that training session all he could think about is how easy it would have been to press a little bit harder on your back and cut off your air supply for good. 

Actually, a part of him wanted to.

The Winter Soldier did not want to stop.

It scared the fuck out of him.

“You know what happened in there could have been much worse. You’re lucky I didn’t break your neck or kill you for God’s sake.” Bucky says, his own emotion rising in his chest. He extends his arm as he talks to make his point.

“I’m a professional, Bucky!” You say back, your tone suddenly sharp. 

It was one thing to be concerned for your safety, it was another to completely undermine your entire career and ability.

“And?” He snaps now, his tone growing more agitated. “You’re not supposed to get killed in a training session!” 

“Lucky for me I didn’t!” You say.

You throw the covers off of you as you swing your legs over the bed, your feet hitting the solid ground, standing in one swift motion. 

While Bucky is still sitting the two of you are eye to eye, and despite how dark it is in the room you can both feel how tense your gazes are on one another. 

You so badly wanted to scream at him, to tell him that you were capable of handling yourself and you didn’t need him or Steve to step in and protect you. Especially not when you were supposed to be the one protecting him, helping him.

Bucky, on the other hand, wanted to shake some sense into you. It didn’t matter how trained you were, he was an unstoppable force. His brain was hardwired to kill. Point blank.

“Yeah, dumb luck.” He spits back at you. “What aren’t you understanding?” Bucky feels like he’s grasping at straws now, trying to convince you to listen.

“Don’t talk down to me like I’m a child.” You snap back at him, taking a step forward. 

It’s all bubbling in your chest, this unfamiliar feeling of anger with him. Not only did you make sure he felt safe on that first night, but you stuck your neck out for him, convinced Steve to give him a shot before they went poking and prodding with doctors.

Now all Bucky was asking you to give up? To let someone else step in? Not happening.

“I will when you stop acting like one.” 

Bucky slowly rises from the edge of the bed, his stature looms over yours in a way that still feels intimidating as it did the first time. The air is electric, crackling like lightning was about to strike, as if Zeus himself is waiting for a moment to throw the bolt.

Both of your eyes adjust to the darkness, it’s the only way either of you can make out the other's features. You can see the way his jaw is set and his nostrils flared; Bucky watches as your lips turn down into a frown, your eyebrows creased together as you refuse to back down. 

Why couldn’t you see what either of you were trying to do? 

Protect each other.

Bucky only thought about how you were the only person he could trust, and that included himself. So what was he going to do if he eventually hurt you? Or worse killed you? How would he ever look at himself again?

“You have a lot of nerve.” You growl.

Your hand coming up to poke his chest, it’s solid from the sheer mass of him, and he’s unyielding, but you poke him again to hone in on your point. Bucky does all that he can to ignore the tingling sensation that erupts through his veins at your touch, the same way he did when you touched his shoulder a few nights prior.

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. I’m here to help you, whether you like it or not, Bucky.”

Your voice wavers slightly again, feeling the emotional moment between you and Bucky pouring onto you. A second of silence passes allowing you to collect your thoughts and emotions, clearing your throat you’re about to continue but Bucky cuts you off.

“Fine,” he growls out, his hands curled into fists at his side. “And when I either try to kill you again or you get called to another mission that’s more important than I’ll make sure to hold back my ‘I told you so’s’.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You quip back.

Bucky opens his mouth as if to speak but he decided to shut it instead. It wasn’t worth the argument anymore. He had gotten out what he needed to say and that was that. 

He writes off these feelings that bubble deep in his gut as … confusion. He’s starting a new life, his brain is all fucked up, the anger and sadness he felt about you was confusion, that’s all. That’s all .

“Forget it.” Bucky mutters, his hands moving to run down his face as shakes his head, a piece of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he does so. He wants this conversation over with.

You don’t want to forget it. This anger lives inside of you now and it wanted to surface, you needed Bucky to understand that you weren’t giving up on him, but the words won’t come. They get stuck in your throat.

“Fine.” You manage to say instead. “I expect to see you in the training room tomorrow morning. 7am. Sharp.”

Neither of you speak as the tension dissipates leaving an air of awkwardness in its wake. The room feels like it’s spinning as the two of you quietly climb into your respective beds, turned away from each other, completely closed off and not looking forward for what was to come.

The next day was … interesting to say the least. Bucky had shown up at 6:58am to be as punctual as possible. If you weren’t going to heed his warnings then he would be prepared, a good soldier. God, he hated thinking about it that way.

You decided to pausing on sparring for the time being, instead putting him through a vigorous workout routine that included enough cardio to knock out a horse, and strength training that would make Heracles’ knees buckle. Bucky didn’t break a single sweat, which was quite impressive. 

Then came the mental aspect of all of this. You needed to push his boundaries and see how far you could go before the Winter Soldier mask slipped back on. You were trying your best to break him.

There were a few close calls during some of your sessions; one of your boxing sessions while he was doing a few rounds with the punching bag. You must have said something that triggered a memory because one second he was hitting combinations and the next second it was flying off the chain it was strung by, landing loudly against the concrete wall. 

The impact was enough to make you both stop, your jaw slacked in awe as you turned towards him. Bucky’s chest heaved heavily, his shoulders rounded as he could feel the anger coursing through his blood.

Don’t attack. Do not attack.

Those are the only words flowing through his brain. You didn’t turn on the same switch as his trigger words, but there was always that instinct in the back of his mind when his rage simmered too close to the surface.

It happened again a few sessions later, but this time while he was running on the treadmill at full speed. He could feel the itch to protect himself, to make you stop shouting things to infuriate the beast  within him. His metal arm was itching to get you to stop. But, the guilt of hurting you again is what held him back. He ran so hard and fast, his feet making loud thumping sounds on the belt that he ended up breaking the whole machine.

Bucky wouldn’t admit this to anyone but every night before he fell asleep, all he could remember was the sound of you sputtering for air as his knee dug into your back on that day that you two sparred. It ate him alive to know that he was capable of such things, it hurt even more to know how badly his brain couldn’t discern you from an enemy.

He knew you were equipped for this, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t scare the shit out of him to think of how fragile you were in comparison to him. He was a super soldier, an assassin, and as much as he wished he could assure himself that you were safe around him, it felt harder and harder every day.

Though the weeks passed quickly, you were seeing significant signs of improvement within Bucky that maybe he couldn’t see in himself. 

They weren’t all related to his training either. 

He would talk to Steve more, trying to make small talk when he saw him in the tower (though he still shied away from him when he brought up any mentions of the ‘30s, not feeling ready to delve into those memories yet). 

Or after your training sessions, he’d bring you a cup of coffee - light and sweet - exactly how you liked it; either as a way to thank you for your time or an excuse to see you again that day, the jury was still out on that.

And by the time the six month mark had passed, Bucky had seemed to be flourishing, the two of you falling into a rhythm. The mornings were filled with training, your nights spent checking in with Steve on Bucky’s progress, and any down time trying to make him feel like he’s not some prisoner locked away.

“Hey,” you said one night as you entered the dorm room, your eyes immediately falling on him. 

“Hey.” He responds back, his head tilting up to look at you. He was laying on top of the bed with his new cell phone, trying to figure out how to use the damn thing. Who invented such stupid devices? 

“Come with me.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raise at your words, and watches as you wave him over towards the door, gesturing to him to follow you. You don’t need to tell him twice. Tossing the phone onto the mattress he climbs out of bed to keep up with you.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited about the idea of spending more time with you. He found solace in those early morning training sessions, it was doing wonders for his mental health to not feel like he was going to snap every second. Plus the added bonus of getting your attention all to himself.

You lead Bucky down the hall to the elevator, pushing the button to the top floor. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Bucky’s gaze tries to remain in front of him on the metal doors. He so desperately wants to look over at you, to try and catch a glimpse into what you’re thinking; he barely understands his own mind, but he needs to know yours.

“Where are we going?” The hoarseness in his voice shocks him for a moment, clearing it as he flexes his metal hand. He seemed more fidgeted around you these days, like there was an itch that needed to be scratched.

“Somewhere different.” It’s vague, but it’s a response.

The elevator doors open up to a room built of glass, the warm lights lining the bar and the overhead steel beams. Hundreds of bottles of liquor line the wall and the floors are covered in a dark carpet that despite its years still looks brand new. It was something right out of Architectural Digest , a billionaire’s dream lounge room, but this wasn’t the place you wanted to take Bucky, it was only the passage, not the final destination.

“No one’s usually up here when it’s not the weekends” You explain as you lead him through the room. Bucky’s hot on your heels, never more than a few steps behind. “I figured since you probably haven’t had some fresh air since you’ve been here that it’d be nice to get outside.”

When you approach the door, all it takes is a swipe of your badge and the small beep to signal that it had unlocked. Pulling it open, you and Bucky are greeted with the balcony that overlooks the helipad landing at the tower, but more importantly the entire city right in front of you like a deck of cards. 

Bucky didn’t realize he missed the fresh air until he found himself walking past you to stand at the railing, his eyes closed, sucking in a deep breath. His lungs fill up and it feels brand new. He might not have been free from the demons, but this new found freedom had given him so much to live for. 

His hair blows softly in the wind, the night sky is dark above his head, and all you can do is stand back and watch in awe. He was so different from the night you first met him, maybe still closed off but not nearly the same person who wouldn’t eat his food in fear it was poisoned; now he was relishing in moments, enjoying his peace.

The warmth of your body standing next to him is immediately welcomed by Bucky when he hears you approach, his eyes flickering open and looking at the scene in front of him. It hits him all in that moment that he doesn’t remember the last time he took in the view? It had to be decades, maybe longer. 

“Fresh air, hm?” He asks, his arms resting on the railing in front of him.

“Are you complaining?” You can’t help but tease him a bit, it was fun to poke the bear.

“No.” He stares out ahead of him, his eyes watching the streets below, the faint sounds of car horns and people talking hit his ear despite how high up it was. “It’s nice.”

“When I was a trainee they refused to let us out of the building, scared we were going to never want to come back in.” You chuckle at the memory. “Maybe they were right.”

Bucky chuckles with you. “Yeah, I can see how tempting that is.”

“I’m sure you haven’t had much downtime in a while.”

“No, not really.” He says, shaking his head. “Maybe since the war? Probably before it. And any time I get here is full of figuring out what the next thing is going to be.” 

He speaks candidly with you because he knows he can. As much as he was trying to warm up to Steve, and he knew there was a soft spot inside of him for the man, he could be a little rough around the edges to talk to. Not that Bucky was delicate by nature, but it was different.

It takes a moment to find the courage within him before he speaks again.

“I’ve been really trying to remember who I was before all … this.” He vaguely gestures. “There’s been a lot of big gaps in my memory, but from what I can remember I was never this … this volatile man. I never felt out of control and now it feels like every second of the day I’m on the verge of some breakdown that is going to make it hard to snap out of.”

It’s wildly authentic and heartbreaking to hear Bucky’s words. You watch the side of his face carefully, you can see the way his emotions are written all over his features, the way he can feel the tightness in the back of his throat. 

“You don’t see the improvements you’re making.” You say quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe not.” He swallows a bit, his fingers tapping on the railing. “Or maybe you and Steve see something in me that’s just not there.” 

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

“I told Steve what happened on that first training session because I was terrified that if I killed one more person than I had no chance of ever recovering.” He admits, his head bows slightly before he turns to face you, his hands grip the railing a bit tighter. “ Especially if it was you.”

The admission makes your features soften, your eyes searching his face for something, you’re not entirely sure what. But all you can find is a man who is terrified, who is chipped – not broken, as fragile as a piece of porcelain. His blue eyes are a bit brighter than when he first came in, and if he looks in a certain light you’re positive that they glisten. There’s a faint scar on his forehead, a stark reminder of the pain that he inflicted when he felt like it was all too much.

“I never thought you were going to kill me.” 

Was this sentiment good enough to even explain to him how absolutely fucked up this whole situation was? This man had a kill list that was miles long, but you? You were the one he couldn’t hurt.

“That’s not the point.” His tone is firm. 

You knew it wasn’t, but what were you supposed to say?

“The point is that if something happened to you… if I did something to you…” Bucky’s voice breaks as he speaks, turning his body towards you. All the emotions were so unfamiliar he didn’t know how to handle them. “Then there would be no purpose in trying to help me. I’m too far gone - the Winter Soldier won.”

Panic settled in your chest as you watched Bucky bare his soul to you, the simple matter of fact was he was terrified, of himself, of how much he trusted you, and of the world.

“Hey, hey.” You can’t help but take a step forward, only letting a few inches in between the two of you. Your hand moves to rest on his shoulder like it did that night he had a nightmare. It amazed you how warm he was under your touch. “That’s not true. You’re not too far gone.”

All of the training sessions the two of you had together slipped into both of your minds. Bucky saw his failures, the moments he was so consumed by his instincts. You saw all his accomplishments, the moments after his failures where he pushed forward and continued doing the work.

“What if I am?”

Your eyes catch his and the both of you stand in silence. You can’t help but rub circles into his shoulder gingerly, something about the tenderness of the moment making you want nothing more than to comfort him. 

Bucky’s heart stammers in his chest at your kind touch, the only real thing that lets him know he’s alive and not in some fucked up dream. Bucky doesn’t think anyone has ever touched him so carefully before.

“Then we keep trying.” You whisper, there’s a desperation in your tone because you want him to believe you. You need him to. “We don’t stop trying until you're better.”

Would Bucky ever truly be better? He’d spent a lot of time over the last few weeks wondering about that exact question. There was a point in this recovery where he had to accept that he was a tortured soul that would not be able to ever go to bed again without seeing the faces of the innocent victims he killed. 

But you’re so convincing, your words make him feel something he hadn’t felt since the 40s when Steve found him tied down in that basement being experimented on; hopeful.

“When I sleep at night I don’t just see the people I’ve killed.” Bucky’s jaw tightens as he admits this to you. “I see all of the people who …” He can’t bring himself to say it, shaking his head. “...Who hurt me . I didn’t know what they were doing because the shit would get zapped right out of me and they’d put me on ice again.” 

Bucky swallowed his emotions, trying not to let the memories come back too clearly in that moment. He’d always wake up more and more a shell of himself than the last.

“ Torture . They’d torture me then use me as a pawn to hurt innocent people.”

“How many do you remember?”

“All of them.”

Your heart sinks in your chest at the idea that he could still hear their screams, or their begs for mercy, or worse … their last breaths. 

“I saw Steve and it was like someone punched me right in the gut, and turned back time. I saw him then I saw myself. Then I met you and I knew I had to figure this shit out.”

It’s unexpected for both of you, but Bucky brings his metal hand up to yours, wrapping it around your wrist. It’s cold against your skin, the material is smooth and polished despite the many divots that coat it. You want to run your fingers on it, to see how it moves and retracts with the heat of your touch, but he quickly snaps you out of that thought. 

Bucky watches your face carefully as he moves your hand until it rests against his cheek.

“Bucky …” Your voice is soft, his eyes closing to relish in the moment and your touch.

Your thumb caresses his cheek and he leans his head into your palm. His face is scratchy, yet exceedingly warm in contrast to the metal. He lets out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he was holding, but maybe he had always been holding it in. 

You were his comfort during these times, the only way he stopped himself from losing his goddamn mind.

Your touch reminds him of the day he found out you weren’t coming back after your first initial meeting. 

Steve had explained it was for a mission, he knew it was important, but you had been the only thing tethering him down to earth. It was hard to cope with the fact that he didn’t know when he would see you again, so he tried to stay busy, to stay out of his own head. He failed miserably.

Bucky had needed your comfort during that time, needed someone grounding him to earth, but he would settle for it now instead.

“I want to be better. I want to get better.” 

He knew this awakening was deep inside of him, this need to move forward, and now he was ready to bridge that gap. To start fresh. But below that need was another feeling, one that was not regret nor hope. No, this feeling was foreign to Bucky, an intense aching  want. For what? For love, of course. For who? Guess.

His eyes open and he doesn’t realize he’s taken a step forward until the two of you are pressed together. His hand that rests around your wrist tightens slightly because he’s afraid that if he lets go that you will slip away.

“I never thought you were coming back after that mission. Now I’m finding it really hard to let you go.” His voice is sweet like honey despite how deep it is.

A blush creeps onto your features because it seemed the soft spot you had for Bucky was now only making room for the feelings that were starting to grow. 

Your eyes swept over him taking in the fine lines by his eyes, down to the little marks he had on his cheeks. Despite being so close together in your sparring matches it had seemed like this was the first time you had really seen Bucky. Like really seen him.

“You know, you’re not allowed to say things you don’t mean.” You teased quietly.

“And who said I didn’t mean them?” He asked back.

A pair of matching smiles graces both of your features as he does. You swore for a half second you saw him gaze down at your lips, but by the time your brain had a chance to catch up he pulled your hand off of his face, intertwining your fingers together at your sides.

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here.” You whisper.

That remainder of night ended in a way neither of you had expected, hands intertwined together until the very moment you two climbed into your separate beds across from each other. Bucky could feel his skin tingle at the way your fingers slide across his as you unravel from each other. He thought about it all night.

A few more months had passed, and time seemed to have flown by in a blink of an eye because it was now a one year from that day Steve had brought Bucky back to the tower, changing his life.

Bucky was determined now more than ever to get himself help; he didn’t lash out during training practices and he actually allowed Steve to set up some doctor’s appointments for him. Physicals, therapists, neurology shit; he didn’t even care at this point.

You made sure if you couldn’t be there for all his sessions that you’d at least check in with him afterwards to see how he was doing. You and Bucky had moved out of those dorm rooms, you were back in your old room - a much more spacious area that felt more like a one bedroom apartment. 

Bucky was moved back to his room as well, which happened to be at the other end of your hallway. He hated the memories that came along with being back here, the vividness of him slamming his head against the wall always made a chill run down his spine. There was still a dent where it happened. But, he was happy to have a bigger bed to sleep in and stretch his body out. 

He hated how you weren’t an arms length away anymore.

Unfortunately for him, Bucky’s heart seemed to have grown tenfold after that night on the rooftop. He had opened the floodgates and it left him tingling from head to toe. 

When there were team meetings he found himself glancing at you more than actually listening to Steve. When he saw you in the common room reading a book, he couldn’t stop himself from asking what it was about just to hear your voice.

The hardest times for him to concentrate were the sparring practices. 

Initially, Bucky had begged you not to start them up again, he was fearful that the voice would creep back and he didn’t want to have a repeat of your first time together. 

He was able to persuade you for a while, always coming up with a new excuse why it would be better to focus on something else, but eventually it was time. Bucky had to prove he was capable of doing it.

The first few practices were slow and simple, working on carefully building a rhythm and never taking it too far or letting it get too heated. In those moments, Bucky felt like there were specific ways that his body moved that felt instinctive of the Winter Soldier; he avoided those for a while.

But, as most things did as those months went by, the sparring picked up to an easier flow. It soon, to his dismay, became Bucky’s favorite way to spend time together. Not only was it the intimacy in the time together, early in the morning when the sun was still rising, it was the moment that you and Bucky were the closest, where your touches mattered. Walking a fine line between a beautiful dance of two trained professionals doing what they knew best and two people looking for something more. 

His hand would brush against your arm trying to grab you and win, not for the sake of the kill, but the sake of the competitiveness that was now inside of you. Except, it was that exact moment he touched your arms that would throw him off the attack. His brain would be all consumed by the feeling of you that made him hesitate; you used the leverage to grab his arm and flip him onto his back, your foot resting on his chest as you had effectively won.

“Oof.” He let out a puff of air again, because this happened every time.

“I swear, Buck, you’re letting me do that now.” You said to him during this practice. 

It was exceptionally early in the morning, the windows showed a dark city skyline. Neither of you had been sleeping well since you had left your shared dorm rooms, and now this felt like the best way to get out some of that pent up energy.

“You don’t get to call me that.” Bucky says, his hand on his chest as he panted. “Steve barely gets to call me that.”

It made you happy to see the way the two friends had reconnected again. Bucky had remembered so much of their time together; two estranged brothers making up for lost years. 

You chuckle as you hold out your hand to Bucky, wanting to help him up off the mat. He eyes your hand for a moment, slapping it playfully a few times; he didn’t want to get up yet. 

“I feel like I’ve earned the honor, you don’t?”

“Hmmm, let me think about it.” 

Bucky places his finger on his lips, tapping on them as he feigns being in deep thought, wanting to tease you.

“No.”

“Asshole.”

Bucky’s features soften letting a smile creep onto his face as he grabs your hand, pulling you down onto the mat so that your shoulders were touching. His head turned to face yours, the lighter feeling in his body evident by the smile that lingered on his features, so opposite of the darkness that consumed him when he had first arrived.

“I’d rather be an asshole than a killer.” He says. 

Although it’s meant to be a joke, Bucky is still walking the line with learning how to be funny again; it comes across more as awkward humor. You crack a smile though as you turn your head, your cheek resting on the mat; the least you could do was pity him.

“I still kicked your ass.” You taunt.

His hand is still holding yours, actually he maneuvers it so that he can intertwine your fingers together feeling the way they lock like puzzle pieces. If there was a time where two heart beats synced together - it would be in this moment.

“Dumb luck.” The familiar words don’t make you angry as they did the first time he used them, now they made you laugh.

“You really underestimate my abilities, Barnes.”

“I don’t.” He shrugs a bit, his thumb now tracing patterns into your skin. “I know you’re more than capable of kicking my ass. I just think you have an unfair advantage.”

“And what’s that, hm?”

“Mmmm,” Bucky hums, his eyebrow raising a bit. “It’s already an unfair advantage, now you want me to tell you? So what? You actually know what it is and use it against me even more? Not happening.”

You laugh loudly as you playfully kick his shin, biting down on your bottom lip afterwards as you try to keep your composure. Neither of you were too sure when the change in your relationship went from trying to get Bucky to a state of not losing his mind to … this but neither of you were going to complain either.

“Ow.” He squeezes your hand as he feigns the injury, gently knocking his foot into yours back.

“I should never have given you two free access to the training room.”

Steve’s voice calls out as the delayed click of the door signals his arrival. You and Bucky sit up, your fingers slip out of each other's grasps. Bucky doesn’t want to let go of you though, so he keeps his pinky pressed against the side of your hand making sure you’re right there.

Footsteps echo in the room until Steve approaches, his arms crossed over his chest, his normally tidy blonde hair damp from the shower he must have taken. Bucky flexes his metal hand as he looks up at Steve, giving him a short nod.

“Afraid we’re going to hog it?” You ask, feeling Bucky’s finger wrap around yours.

You swear in that moment your heart drops. It takes everything in your body to not let your gaze drift over to him.

“A little bit. We have a new class of trainees coming in this morning, the last thing I need is to have them find you two goofing off. We’re a serious team, you know.”

Despite how stoic Steve could be at times, and you were sure his statement was serious, there was always a bit of playfulness in his tone. 

“We didn’t think anyone would even be awake yet.” 

The clock on the opposite wall said 6:25am which was early even for you and Bucky. Steve cracks a soft smile as if he knows that the two of you would be searching for a way to be alone.

“I’m kidding .” He reiterates what you already know. “ But you two do need to leave, I need to prep the room for the recruits.”

Bucky sighs as he stands up, brushing any dust off his pants before he outstretches his hand to you. You clasp onto it, Bucky helping you up off of the ground in one swift motion. You mimic his movements and brush yourself off once you’re standing.

Your hands drop from each other, though Steve catches right away how they linger for a moment before they do. He’s not naive.

“Don’t go too hard on them.” Bucky calls out as the two of you make your exit.

“Oh I will!” Steve calls back, laughs leaving your lips as the doors open to the hallway. 

“He’s ridiculous.”

“You’re just figuring that out?” You say, tempted to elbow him.

“No, unfortunately when my memories came back all his stupidity came with it.”

Laughter filled the hallway as you two made your way to your respective rooms, caught up in chit chat and banter that seemed to fill most of your conversations now. 

Your brain doesn’t even realize that you’ve made the wrong turn and followed Bucky to his room until you’re standing in front of his door. His arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back, his eyes never leaving you.

“Stalking me now?”

“Oh please.” You roll your eyes, playfully reaching out to shove his shoulder. “What can I say? When you’re not brooding you’re actually pleasant to talk to.”

“Mmm.” He hummed. “I should be offended.”

“No, it is actually fun to watch. It’s like you can’t stop yourself from pouting.”

“I don’t pout.”

“Oh you absolutely pout.” 

Bucky chuckled as his hand wrapped around the door handle, letting it slowly turn as the door opened behind him.

“I don’t pout.” He argued with you as he nodded you into his room, a silent invitation.

The situation is so natural like the flow of a waterfall, fluid. You enter his room like you’ve done it a million times.

“Bucky, you absolutely pout.” 

It’s all fun and games now as you hear him close the door behind you, this connection the two of you have built has made this transition a lot easier. Bucky had put in the work, you had done your job, and now it felt more like two friends who were enjoying their time together.

Bucky’s room is dark aside only broken up by the light from the lamp in the corner. The shades on the windows are closed and he seemed to have gathered some more personal belongings; his leather bound journal sat on his night stand, the string unwound letting you know he had probably used it that morning, and his phone sitting at the edge of his bed probably filled with dozens of missed calls and unread texts.

You don’t think he ever managed to figure out how to use it.

“I don’t pout, and you’re getting on my nerves.” He teases as he moves past you. 

Bucky made his way over towards his closet, his hands gripping the end of his t-shirt as he slowly pulled it over his head, tossing it over to the chair next to him. It didn’t even cross his mind that you were seeing him without his shirt on, he couldn’t see how your eyes were fixated on him.

Now it was all that consumed you. His muscles were taut, you knew the serum kept him in shape, and golden for someone who had barely seen the sun in a few months.

It was as if someone had molded him right from stone. 

But it’s the weave of scars that wrapped around his back and shoulder that really caught your attention. They were red, raw and dug deep into his skin. The metal around them was a stark contrast. Man and machine sewn together.

There was an ache deep in your chest to touch him to fix the wrongs of all people who hurt him. His past was etched into his skin and you wanted to erase every single part of it.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder at you, still covered in a thin layer of sweat and he needed to take a shower. He catches your eye and tries to tell himself you’re not looking at him the way he thought you were. The way he hoped you were.

“Plan on watching me the whole time?” He asks, his eyebrow raising.

You want to make a funny joke, start back and forth with him that would make both of you feel at ease, but the words die in the back of your throat. 

Instead, you step forward until you’re standing behind him. Warmth radiated off him like the sun, but you knew you wouldn’t burn the same. Your hands shake as you bring it up to his shoulder, your eyes intently watching yourself skim your finger over his scars.

Bucky’s head feels dizzy at your touch, his head bowing as he sucks in a deep breath. Your name leaves his lips; he’s warning you to not go further and pleading with you not to stop.

Finally, Bucky turns his body so he can face you, his eyes closing at the tenderness. The two of you seem to find yourselves caught in these moments of tenderness that never push the envelope. Maybe it was time to start.

“I’m fine.” He says despite there not being a question asked. You don’t believe him, and the way the frown on your features tells him that. “I mean it, I’m fine.”

“They hurt you.”

Your fingers trace the scars, your throat tightening at the idea of how much torture he went through. Decades. 

When he fell from that train Bucky was dying, he thought he was being saved and instead he was brutally tormented. All he got with his second chance at life was PTSD and these scars. 

Bucky’s breath shakes again at your touch, you made him believe, even if just for a second, that he was worthy of such kindness. 

His eyes flutter shut as he grabs your wrist like he did on the night you two spent on the rooftop. Bringing your hand away from his shoulder and pressing it to his cheek, he does something this time that surprises you. Turning his face, Bucky presses his lips into the palm of your hand, his eyes opening now to watch you carefully.

He sees how your features soften, though he doesn’t realize how your heart beats a little faster or feel how your shoulders relax at his touch. 

Every single second over the last year has led the both of you to this moment, it had all fallen so perfectly in place. Now was your moment.

“I’m fine.” He whispers against your palm.

Bucky’s hand grabs your wrist as he pulls your arm over his shoulder, his lips sliding down to your wrist then your forearm ending at your bicep, peppering trails of kisses as he mumbles I’m fine after each one.

The words are a mantra, a promise to himself all while pleading with you. He was fine.

Your body is begging you to call out to him, but instead you wrap your hand around the back of his neck threading your fingers through his hair. He had barely any time to cut it since that day at the river so it was a bit longer than he liked to keep it, brushing right above his shoulders. You thought of how you wanted to tie it up for him, get it out of his face. 

You wanted to take care of Bucky again, not in the way you had with these training sessions. 

No, you wanted to care for him in the way a lover would. The way soulmates did.

Your name leaves his lips as he leans his head down now only inches away from yours, it immediately snaps you back into reality. You breathe out as you realize how close the two of you are, the warmth spreading through your body like a wildfire. 

His chest rose and fell rapidly, the very last of his control slipping in the back of his mind trying to stop himself from crossing that line. He thought of his therapy sessions, and how he was told he needed to start thinking about what he wanted in this life. 

He wanted nothing more than you. 

Bucky whispered your name again. His hand moved from your bicep to your neck, holding it tenderly as his thumb rubbed circles into your soft skin. 

Life never prepares anyone for these moments; you know, the moments where the world spins a little faster and two souls feel like they’re intertwining. No, life never prepared you for the moment, but you never really cared what life threw at you.

You reached out to cup Bucky’s face with both of your hands pulling him forward until both of your lips pressed against each other; like it was a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled.

There’s no gasps of surprise or moments of shock because this was not surprising at all; actually it was the most instinctive thing either of you had done with one another. A song and dance that blended in perfect harmony. 

The kiss isn’t rushed despite how wanted it is. Bucky’s hand grasps your neck a little tighter, needing to feel your skin under his touch. You don’t realize he’s backed you up against the wall until you feel the smooth surface, the soft thud of your body joining the sounds the two of you were making.

“Don’t do that.” He mumbled, nipping at your bottom lip playfully.

“Don’t do what?” You ask.

“Make me want you more than I already do.” 

You don’t have time to respond with a moan or even a chuckle because Bucky’s leaning down to grasp your thighs, picking you up effortlessly as you wrap your legs around his waist. There was a desperation in the way you two touched each other as if both of you had been starved and now you were served a feast.

There’s soft murmurings that fill the room while the two of you continue to kiss:

  I need you

You’re the best thing that has happened to me

Never leave me

Neither of you knew which voice said it anymore, because at this moment you are more connected to Bucky than your own body.

The sounds of breathless moans and pants fill Bucky’s room as you're soon carried over to his bed, your back hitting the mattress as he loomed over you. Contrary to how intimidating his size once was to you, you see him in a different light now. He’s softer, kinder, and full of this amazing wonder that makes you excited to see what the future has in store for him. 

He stares at you like you hold the secrets of the universe.

He places his arms on either side of your head as he brushes his nose against yours, causing your head to tilt up and press your lips against his once more. It’s a quick kiss this time. His hands running up and down your sides while yours rest on his biceps; these touches felt like they took a lifetime to get, now neither of you would take them for granted.

“I told you, I’m fine.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I met you and I’ve been fine ever since.”

Your heart aches in your chest as you squeeze his arms tenderly, the smile on your features growing. You knew deep down that you had made a promise to yourself that you would always care for Bucky, but it was right then and there that you also promised yourself that you would love Bucky until your dying breath.

Don’t worry though, he had already made those vows to himself for you long ago.

“Promise me one thing.” You whisper back to him.

“Anything.”

“Don’t start pulling your punches now when we spar.”

He laughs at your words before he leans down to peck your lips again a few times, trailing them down to press against your jaw and collarbones. He couldn’t get enough of you now.

“You have nothing to worry about. You will kick my ass fair and square.”

He looks up at you as he rests his chin on your chest. There’s a brief pause and you watch each other, all of the moments you had shared in the last year had now been neatly wrapped up in a bow. He presses one more kiss to your skin before nuzzling his head on your chest; he was home.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, feeling the way he relaxed against your frame.

Bucky Barnes was in front of you, not a perfect man, but a new one.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

you mean nothing to me

[cozylittleartblog]

i thought naming myself this would be really funny. and it Is. every time i get into a match i think about gabriel playing Miku Rhythm Game

[98chao]

ever told a lie? then we've already met!

shadowvanilla week - day 3: truth/lies

[lilybug-02]

Pain is a great motivator…

Part 26 || First || Previous || Next

—Full Series—

Meanwhile Toriel:

(Loud noises don't wake her up usually.)

Artist note: I’m so proud of this :))) I know it’s a lot of dialogue and reading, but dialogue is grueling work for me. I’m glad with the art and for the amount of pages I made in such a relatively short time span -w- page 5 was super fun to work on. A lot of blood, sweat, and hours here... :) The backgrounds were a big bore tbh, but I finished them! Yippie!

[nina-ya]

oh.......

Is my longest fic going to be this Zoro smut 👁️👁️

[star-felled]

literally everything having to do with ron delite is hilarious. doesn't know what he's talking about ever. became a criminal to fuel his wifes shopping addiction. so pathetic that he gets declared innocent for a crime he's guilty of. when asked a question by his own lawyer he asks phoenix what HE thinks. admits to a murder he didnt actually commit several times on accident. found a dead body and instead of calling the cops his immediate, innate reaction was to hide said body. when asked why he hid that body in the safe his response is that it wouldnt fit in a drawer. confesses to being a criminal but the court cant do shit about it because of double jepordy. uses his freedom to run a rehab center for thieves, only to sell heist plans to said thieves. also uses his freedom to team up with his wife to continue stealing. flirts with another man in front of his wife and also an entire courtroom

[chickadeethoughts]

reread this post and maybe this is an unpopular mclennon opinion? but i think they both didn't actually understand each other as well as they thought they did. i think both of them believed the other could read their mind and then filtered their subsequent actions as a conscious slight. like. john should know that paul is someone who keeps his feelings very closely guarded, who will always choose to keep the peace and to put on a good face when he's upset. but throughout the breakup, when paul seemingly stays as productive as ever, staying distantly polite to yoko while urging john to keep writing, keep beatling, everything's fine, time to put on a show, john takes it that paul doesn't care one way or another about their partnership dissolving, he's a perfectly capable one-man band hit machine anyway. this is seemingly confirmed by paul announcing the breakup to "sell a record," effectively ending all hope of quietly reconciling and supporting john's theory that paul was done with the beatles (john) anyway and had been on his way out once he learned he could write a #1 song without anyone's (john's) help. all he cares about is hits and money and his new perfect family and farm.

meanwhile. paul should know that john wasn't handling the pressures of the beatles well. he should know that he needed more support. but paul seems to be someone who gets stuck in his ways of thinking about people (see also: george), and doesn't seem to have ever shaken the image of john as the older, cooler teddy boy on the bus who he'd do anything to impress. he thinks the world of john and spends the 60s thinking they're in a friendly competition, not realizing john has started falling into the paranoia that he's losing. you can see it in get back. paul is waiting for john to write his next great song, to set a new bar for paul to push himself to reach. paul got john by impressing him with his music and when he's losing john he doubles down on it because he thinks that's the only valuable thing he has to offer. he might have offered the support john needed instead if he knew what that was, but he didn't. but mid-60s john, who still thinks paul understands him, thinks paul knows he needs him but chooses to spend his time flitting around swinging london instead, which deeply hurts him. john clings to yoko because she's a breath of fresh air from the constant race he's been running for a decade. a creative partner he doesn't have to chase down. someone who needs him as much as he needs her. a woman he can marry, can have a real commitment to. he can be everything to the person who is everything to him. but paul sees this as john finally outgrowing him and finding someone better.

paul also should know that john often speaks first and decides whether he believes what he said later. but it seems he only ever takes john at his word. when john leaves the beatles that's it, no negotiation, because if paul has lost john to someone more interesting, more artistic, then that's that. when john starts to talk publicly about paul's muzak and granny shit that must be true too, it's why john left after all. and granted john just wont stop shit talking him and it's not like he just fell on a keyboard and how do you sleep came out. but this is how you get a paul who starts to see himself as a villain and questions whether john did love him. he doesn't think too many people was that nasty compared to what john was saying about him in interviews because he doesn't realize that one of john's biggest fears is that he's incapable of being a great songwriter without paul. so to john, the lucky break line is paul admitting he agrees with that assessment and twisting the knife. but paul wouldn't see it that way because he's only ever had john on a pedestal.

so by the 70s, on their worst days, john thinks paul is cold marble statue who knows he's better than him and delights in it and paul thinks john is entirely out of love or use for him, if he ever had it in the first place. and of course, they could never talk about any of this openly because neither of them were willing to face the pain of confirming that their love really was one-sided.

[sharkylad]

Thinking about the fact that Mabel and Dipper didn't know they had two great uncles.

Yeah they are 12 and at 12 I had a shotty understanding of my family tree- But really? Nobody brought up their great uncle? Stanley? Especially since they'll be staying with his twin brother, Stanford?

Shermie never went to Stan's fake funeral, which to me means the twos relationship was strained on some level. If Shermie is older that means his view of Stan was poisoned in some way, that even as kids they weren't close. If Shermie is younger then he never even got to meet Stan and all he knew about him was how he failed his family. Hell, people probably barely mentioned Stanley TO Shermie.

The fact that Stan had become a black stain upon the Pines family name makes me so vividly upset. Stanley faked his death and the family just- seemingly decided to strike him from the record. To pretend he didn't existed to spare themselves the sadness and shame.

Stanford and Shermie Pines. The only children worth mentioning of Filbrick and Caryn Pines.

It was never Stanford that was lost to the world. It was Stanley, ever since he had to leave New Jersy- it was always him that had to be struck from the record. Change his name, change his state, change his affiliations, destroy the remains of ghost that was Stanley Pines. Kill him so the family doesn't bring him up, doesn't ask questions, stops asking "Stanford" about his twin.

I just keep thinking about the fact that since the day he made one single mistake all the way up until Ford walks out of that machine- Stanley Pines was killed and did not exist. And Stan himself had no one to blame, he had to play the part in his own demise- He is the only one who ever knew Stanley was alive and has been for decades.

He lives in the multitudes of every personality he's ever taken, all in the hope that he himself can stop being Stanley Pines.

[strengthgem]

chosen ones

[ronnykins-needshelp]

Cumplane has me on a litteral choke hold i will NOT stop making AUs ISTG

Where AU where Cumplane Pre-transmigration meets Moshang and Bingqiu post-SVSSS

currently Cumplane has been in a marriage for about 5 years and has been dating for 2 years. they started talking properlyto each other once PIDW had ended and Shen yuan coerced Airplane into making a new book with his exact outline from his orignal plan, offering to pay for it. becuase obviously Shen yuan isnt going to tolerate SQHs living condictions in a very beat down apartment they become roomates. as Shen Yuan is a beta reader and SQH no longer needs to worry about money, they calm down their anomosity. and after back and forth and Shen Yuan finally coming out of his very glass closet they get together.

at first Shen Yuans family doesnt approve becuase they think Shang Qinghua was a golddigger, but after finding out that Shang Qinghua was the author of PIDW, which they have heard their son rant about every single time they meet up, hey turn the tables and accept them as their son in law thinking :

Entire Family: " so thats why shen yuan started dating him! thats so sweer. "

it was kind of embarressing becuase Shen Yuans family had described in detail how passionate their son got whenever talking about that book.

Shen Yuan: " ive always hated it!! "

Mother Shen: " no honey, you didnt you were just in denial, like your sexuality. "

Shen Yuan: " Mom!! "

his family is not discrimitory, they are just happy their hermit crab is doing something with his life

they end up adopting [ bc i NEED a child to be in this ] an orphan one year into their marriage and calling him Shen binghe. no they will never tell their son the origin of his name. who was a baby that was dumped onto the orphanges doorstep. which was conveintly around the time they decided to adopt.

since they were kinda young when they took up the mantle of being parents they took every precuation to keep him safe, to the point that Shang Qinghua took a haitus to take care of his son.

they raised him to be a healthy four year old boy.

thats when Xin mo coughed up Moshang And Bingqiu, closely after the Bingqiu marriage, into their little cottage that used to be the Shen Families beach house. this was during they time they were having ' family time ' by playing simple board games in their living room when they heard crashes in their kitchen. Shen binghe is scared but Shang QInghua fishes out a shotgun that was placed behind their couch for showcase. it didnt work but it can cetaintly frighten someone.

a Frightened Shen binghe hugs his mother father waiting for some news.

Shen Qinghua [ He took up the shen name bc rich people thoughts ig]: " Ummmmm..... Baoibei you might want to see this. "

confused, Shen Yuan, holding Shen binghe protectively in his arms, walks to the kitchen, and to his complete and utter surprise, finds PIDW charaters in his home.

Shen yuan: " What the fuck?! A-Bing dont repeat that. "

his son nods when the cosplayer that looks like Luo binghe says,

Luo Binghe: " who are you to say anything of what i do? "

Shen Qingqiu: " calm down binghe, he wasnt talking to you. "

luo binghe: " ok shizun! "

that one that looks like the scum villianwas looking interestedly towards Shen Yuan, which was making him uncomfitable and he held his child closer.

Shen Yuan: " A-Hua, why are they here, who are these people? "

Shen Qinghua: " Well i think they are.. "

Shang Qinghua: " Im airplane shooting towards the sky! i already told him some emberrising shit so he knows that we are on and the same. "

shen yuan moves closer to his Shen Qinghua and Shang Qinghua frowned.

Shang QInghua: " i didnt think i would marry and have a kid! well in this timeline becuase of PIDW. "

his grouped glanced at him.

Mobei-jun: " What exactly do you mean this timeline? "

Shang Qinghua: " oh i died here than transmigrated - or moving ones soul to anothers body - after not even finishing my book which is our world! "

Shen Qingqiu: " way to lay that one out airplane. "

he scoffed, which was terrifienly familar to someone the mortals know.

Shen yuan, suddenly proccessing the words: " D-died?! "

The shang qinghua nodded, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Shang Qinghua: " Anyways, whos that twink i married? im surprised that we pulled a pretty boy like that! im used to my king, "

Shen Qinghua: " I know we are the same person, but dont talk to my husband like that! "

Shang Qinghua, puttinig his hands up mocking surrender: " i didnt think i had balls but ok. "

Shen yuan stopped listening as excitment wiggled in after the fright settled down.

Shen Yuan: " You see this A-bing? this is a Au clash! i never thought that i would be in this type of plot!! "

Shen binghe, giggling: " like one of babas books! "

Shen yuan: " thats right my little demon. "

luo binghe blinked at the nickname.

Shen Yuan: " Anyways my name is- "

Shen QIngqiu, breathlessly: " Shen yuan. "

Shen yuan, looks questionly at the man: " How do you know my name?! "

Shen Qingqiu: " Becuase im you. "

que an EXTENSIVE talk about how transmigration worked for the husbands, and how they died, and how PIDW ended. now onto the their personal lives with SHen Binghe playing with the two demon lords in a friendly game of go fish [ AKA ruthlessly beating them with no hope of survival. Luo binghe Scowls at this child self of him, no mercy!! ] and the cumplane pairs sitting in the couch.

Shang QInghua: " i cannot believe i married the Peerless cucumber, He was the one who basically cuased my death!! "

Shen QIngqiu, whacking the hamster in the back of his head: " and is marrying this master that unsightly? I should be surprised that i married you, you hack author!! "

.. well that explained their relationship.

Shen Yuan: " Not even that surprised, i dont even know how ive been with this hack for 11 years. "

Platonic cumplane: " ELEVEN YEARS?! "

Shen QInghua, pitifully and tying to kiss Shen yuan: " Awwww why does my pretty husbando think that, "

Shen Yuan, shoving Shen Qinghua away by the face: " Becuase i said so. now get off me you big oof. "

After some whining and big puppy eyes [ that Shen Qingqiu frightenly similar to luo binghes ], Shen Qinghua is is laying contently on Shen yuans laps while he brushes his fingers through his hair.

Shan Qinghua: " you know if i werent with my king and seen you how i should have, i would have tapped that ass long ago. "

Shen yuan, yeeting a pillow at top speed while blushing: " My CHILD is right here!! stop being so shameless for once airplane!! "

Shen Qingqiu, having been subjected to Airplanes shamelessness for years ignores him: " speaking of child, if you have PIDW in your world, how do you have a luo binghe here? usually at these types of senerarios in fanfics, they both cant coencide with each other. "

Shen Qinghua: " Oh thats becuase baobei refused to call him anything but Luo binghe. "

he received a slap. Shen yuan was fuming.

Shen Yuan: " yah whatever, i had to admit he looked quite similar to Luo binghe was described - minus the two toned hair - in the book, i could not not name him binghe. "

the two Shens nodded in understanding while the the huas just looked confused at the logical, ut whatever each to their own.

shen Qingqiu: " oh thsts pretty nice. wait please dont tell me you have mpreg in this world, i do and no- "

shen Yuan: " No! no, anyways does he look like us? we adopted him when he was around two weeks old. "

Shang Qinghua: " Now i got to admit thats sweet, i love the little family yall got, its kind of sad that this is what our future wouldve been if we didnt die. well i dont regret transmigrating into pidw, sometimes, though becuase i ended up with Mobei, who i modeled after my tastes-. "

Shen Qinghua: " -which pretty much described A-yuan- "

Shang Qinghua: " -so im pretty happy with my life. "

Shen yuan: " talking about you, howd you end up with the protaginist? "

Shen qingqiu, waving his fan lazily with a huff: " Dont get me started- "

proceeds to describe the entire lore of SVSSS. both Qighuas fell asleep at one point while Shen yuan was enratured by the whole story.

Shen Yuan: " WOw! Luo binghe was that bad at papapa? thats totally OOC! but you are still doing it every three days? "

Shen QIngqiu, Shrugging: " pretty much, hes just too cute to not say no to. what about you? idk if papapa with the author whos so clearly a virigin would be that great either, "

Shen Yuan: " oh hes not a virgin. apperently he slept around alot while in university so my poor Chrysanthemum ddint suffer like yours. thouguh he havent done it in awhile since Shen Binghe takes up more of our time "

Shen Qinghua: " awww if they get to stay, maybe they get to take care of our binghe and we get to go for a bi- "

Shen Yuan: " if you are asleep, keep pretending to sleep! dont just wake up halfway! "

SHang QInghua flinched a the fimiliar words as he had jjust woken up.

meanwhile at the kiddy table

Luo Binghe: " so um, do you have aaa?

Shen Binghe: " Three of hearts? no. go fish. "

Luo binghe mumbled under his breath as he grumpily snatches another card. he has already lost 5 times, and Mobei-jun is a lost cuase.

since Mobei-jun wasnt talking SHen binghe iniciated a convo.

Shen binghe: " your so cool looking! your robes are like the ones that my babas cosplay in!! one time when they arrived they had to give me to my grandma in order for them to go to a convention! apperently my babas book, proud immortal demon way go super popular when it finished! "

Luo binghe, raising an eyebrow: " how does this shen binghe tell the differences between your two parents? "

Shen Binghe: " I sometimes call my first baba, ' mama ' "

Luo binghe: " Fair. i call my shizun wife. "

Shen binghe, pouting: " how can other me marry mama! "

Luo binghe, defensively: " well thats becuase Shizun is not my mo- "

Shen Binghe: " -and why is my baba married to the big scary icicle!! "

Mobei-ju just raised an eyebrow which was scary for a child and Shen binghe started crying. frightening both of the adults.

shen yuan suddenly appeared holding his son and rocking him.

Shen yuan, cooing: " Are you ok my little bingbing? did the big scary men bully you? "

Luo binghe: " he started thi- "

he was silenced by a glare.

Shen Binghe: " I dont like this AU! my babas arent together!! and their weird! "

luo binghe does not want to make this child version of himself cry, becuase if he cries and shizun finds out hes sleeping on the bed tonight.

Luo binghe: " wait wait, this lo- im sorry, here look at this. "

he opened his clawed palm and produced a little demonic energy, from that he minipulated it into turning into a a black mistic bunny. the bunny jumped and when luo binghe moved his hands closer to shen binghe, it started to sniff his noise intensly. Shen binghe started to giggle and wearly pet the bunny. to his surprise it was soft.

the other three moved to the table watching this whole scene.

Shen Qingqiu: " oh thats sweet, who kew Binghe was so great with kids? "

Both Qinghuas looked at him. Luo binghe was static.

Luo Binghe: " Would Shizun like a child? this husband would love to- "

he has hit by a fan. Shen binghe started to luagh aswell as shen yuan.

Shen yuan: " See A-bing? if a man like that annoys you, hit him on the head! "

Mobei-jun: " what a pleasant lesson for a child "

everyone jumped when he spoke, basically forggetting he was here.

Shen Qinghua: " anywayss, how did you get here? "

Shen QIngqiu: " Xin Mo messing up "

Shen Yuan: " any way to get back? "

Shang Qinghua: " our ride should be here any second "

a portal opens and Sha hualing pokes her head out.

Sha hualing: " Get over here losers, you owe me! "

after much goodbyes the group left. leaving the cumplane family to lay down on the couch. SHen binghe fell asleep quickly, eghuasted by the whole debacle.

Shen Binghe, groaning: " I dont think i want to meet another AU again. "

Shen yuan, huffing out: " Agreed, "

and then the little family slept happily on the couch

[cable-salamdr]

Okay having Many Thoughts (tm) but I think while its easy for all of us to kinda make fun of the scene where Frak explains Oni and Lloyd just stands by while he calls them inherently evil and whatnot, for me it personally shows something else

I’d already had this thought since season 1 when they were at the Temple of the Dragon Cores, which is that Lloyd doesn’t go to any length to tell them much unless he has to/ that he even actively hides the stuff that could be seen as “bad”

My assumption why he does this? to avoid getting hurt, someone using it against him, or judging him for it.

Harumi did it, Garmadon did it, the Overlord too. My dude knows there is no way it would be safe to go about telling everyone (or just accidentally the wrong person) he’s the grandson of god and part dragon AND oni in a chaotically dangerous world as the merged lands.

(That and saying he’s part oni/ making them sound “not that bad” would have probably raised some alarm bells in, yk, the middle of a dragonian village.)

[ask2ps]

in the 2P takeover, alfred struggling to retain some level of consciousness while allen puppeteers him backfires in the end, as it only really allows him to be personally present for matthew's (permanent!) death at his own hands.

anyway i'm representing this through a discord meme redraw.

[joshuamj]

The Links (+ a Zelda!) from all the LoZ games I've played

[catboygirljoker]

hey hi im having swirling and spinning luxubar thoughts again. let's look at these lines.

i imagine he phrases it this way because it's a casual, laid-back way of expressing this idea. "more recently, i go by the name Xigbar, but you can call me Luxu if you want, I don't care either way." (and the fact that he doesn't have a strong preference about the name he's called still says something about his relationship to his own identity, i think!)

but absolutely i feel this can be interpreted on a deeper level, too. the question is about who he is—about his identity in isolation—but the way he responds defines him relationally—"these days they call me Xigbar, but hey, whatever suits you." a sense of identity that is fluid, dependent on who he serves, on what role he plays.

a sense of identity made even more tragic by the fact that, no, Xigbar isn't his real name, and neither was Braig, but neither is Luxu.

[this is Chirithy, speaking about the Master of Masters.]

even the name Luxu, considered his "true identity", was bestowed on him by his master. every identity we have ever known for Xigbar, every name he's ever had, has been a name he assumed in pursuit of someone else's goal. Braig and Bragi were names he acquired from his vessels. Luxu and even Xigbar were names he was given by his superiors. he has only ever been defined in relation to someone else, by someone else's past or someone else's ambitions.

[hinamie]

happy to report that after 8 years i can finally do him justice in this goddamn tank top