#[ when the bigger than life character reveals moment of weakness....

[pirateborn-a]

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     actually gives this clip its own post to save it because i think about it a normal amount

[holylulusworld]

Jerk next door (6) - Two new players

Summary: You move in next door to a jerk after a bad breakup.

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Characters: Destroyer!Chris, Captain Syverson

Warnings: angst, mentions of past domestic violence (implied), mentions of divorce, mentions of past physical abuse, scared reader, mentions of past alcohol abuse, rueful Andy, mentions of murder

A/N: It's been a while, huh.

Jerk next door masterlist 

<< Jerk next door (5)

“No,” you violently shake your head. “I won’t set foot into his house. Let Quentin come and kill me. It’s better than being under the care of this man.” 

“Miss,” Chris sighs. He’s fucking tired of taking care of other people’s problems. “I’m tired, my head hurts like hell and I haven’t slept for a week. Please give me a break.”

“Oh,” considering his words you look at the stranger in your house again. He looks tired and sick. “Wait, have a seat. Do you want some water? I got not much food left, but I can make you a sandwich.”

“I came here for a reason, miss.”

“Y/N,” you offer a weak smile. “I’m sorry for barking at you. It’s his fault, not yours. You only try to help me.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and takes the offered seat in your kitchen. “I get that you are mad at Barber. He’s a handful.”

“So, uh-Mr…” you furrow your brow. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Just Chris,” he takes the glass of water you placed on the table and chugs it down. “I’m sorry too. It was a rough month…or rather year.”

Chris closes his eyes for a moment and sighs deeply.

“Maybe you should stay out of this shitshow. I already packed the most important things. I’ll try to start anew somewhere else.”

“He will follow you everywhere you go, miss,” Chris opens his eyes. His blue eyes hold your gaze as you try to find a way to keep him out of your problems. “Quentin Beck is the kind of bastard not letting go. He doesn’t love you but won’t let you live your life without him.”

“He will kill me,” you whisper. “Quentin told me so when I finally found the strength to file for divorce. I embarrassed him by revealing what he did to me. Though, no one was there to help me. They all turned a blind eye to my injuries and his behavior.”

“No man should put their hands on a woman,” Chris sneers. “I will make sure he’ll never get close to you, Y/N.”

“Quentin won’t give up.”

“Let him come,” Chris gets up from his chair because you’re rubbing your arms and your teeth chatter. “You’re freezing.”

“I-I’m scared, is all,” you reply. 

“No. You’re cold,” he shrugs his jacket off and puts it around your shoulders. “You need to calm down. I know Andy was a jerk, but he’s our only chance to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want to hide at his place,” you sniffle. “He’s as bad as my ex-husband.”

“Andy would never hurt a woman,” Chris softly speaks to you. “Laurie got him good. She broke something inside of him. Jerk or not, he will do anything to keep you safe.”

“Promised?” You look up at Chris.

“Promised.”

“Bedroom, bathroom,” Andy nervously points at the bed in his bedroom. “I’ll take the guestroom. This one is bigger.”

“This is ridiculous,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. “If only you left me alone. I didn’t do anything wrong to make you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, sweets,” he sighs and runs one hand down his face. Andy is fucking tired too. “Please let me at least try to make things up to you.”

“You put me in harm's line!” You throw your hands up. “I finally found a peaceful place and you had to ruin it for me. Even if he believes I left town, Beck will come back. If he sinks his teeth in your flesh, you are his next meal.”

Andy smirks. “Let him come. I’m not the tame and friendly lawyer if you fuck with me.” He cocks his head and watches you sit on his bed. Andy clears his throat and softens his voice. “I changed the sheets, and in the bathroom are fresh towels. I brought all your clothes into the walk-in wardrobe. It’s right through that door.”

Andy points at the door next to the bathroom.

“You can put them on the left side. It’s…empty,” he shrugs when you watch him with curiosity. “A habit.” He adds. “My ex-wife used to occupy the left side. I kinda never changed that. It’s empty since I moved in here.”

“I did the opposite,” you admit. “Quentin used the left side, and I put the silliest things on his side.” You grin. “He would so hate it.”

“Hmm…” Andy nods thoughtfully. “We removed any trace you lived at your house. A friend of mine will take your place. I had an emergency meeting with all the neighbors. They know about you, and Beck. Doris and Peter offered to have an eye on the house.”

“You make it sound so easily,” you wipe your wet eyes. “I used my real name, Andy. Sooner than later Quentin will find my employer, and I’m done for. He will come when I least expect it and…”

You look away. 

“He won’t,” Andy suddenly stands in front of the bed. “I don’t give a shit that he’s a cop. I’m an attorney lawyer, Chris is an ex-cop, and—” 

“And I was the leader of a special forces unit,” another man casually walks inside Andy’s bedroom. “Hello, sugar. Andy told me so much about you.”

“Hi,” you choke the word out, unable to think while crowded by the two of them.

The man holds out his hand. “Oh, she’s shy,” he hums and steps closer to look down at you. He looks even bigger than Andy and Chris. His blue eyes are soft, but his large hand promises more than a friendly handshake if you mess with him. “Captain Syverson, or Sy to you.“

„Hi,“ you squeak as he grabs your hand to shake it. His grip is firm, but you know, this is only a fraction of his strength. “I’m Y/N.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” he smirks, still holding your hand. “Andy told me so much about you, but forgot to tell me that you are the sweetest dame I ever laid eyes on.”

“Sy, can you just not?” Chris joins the party. He immediately glares at Syverson, not liking said man is still holding your hand. “We have a lot on our plate. Quentin Beck is sniffing around town. We got to stop him.”

“Let me break his neck then,” Sy grumbles. “Problem solved.”

“We are talking about murder in that case,” Andy ever the lawyer retorts. “We can’t just kill him, okay. All we have to do is convince him that Y/N left town.”

“All we gotta do is rip him a new one,” Chris bites back. “That piece of shit deserves to be punished for the crimes he committed. He’s hiding behind his badge.”

“I did a background check of Mr. Wonderful,” Syverson draws your attention back toward him, and away from Chris. “Y/N wasn’t the first woman he has hurt. Three of his former girlfriends reported him to the police.”

“Let me guess, the reports disappeared,” Chris makes a face. “I told you, he’s a piece of shit and had it coming for a long time.”

“Chris, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we can’t run around and kill random people. Bastard or not,” Andy stops the two men from conspiring. Both are skilled and undoubtedly able to take Quentin down. “We need to do this the right way.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock,” Syverson grunts. “The other women tried to do it the right way. No one helped them. The reports disappeared, and his colleagues made sure that they didn’t try to file another report.”

Andy scowls at Syverson. “I get it. He’s not a sweetheart and we are on our own. Let’s make sure he’ll never hurt a woman without killing him then.”

You rock back and forth while the men decide on your ex-husband’s fate.

Whatever is going to happen, you are too weak to stop them or Quentin…

Tags in reblog.

[theelderhazelnut]

Ombra's Flaws

Template belongs to lovely @neonneurons

Note: I used this list as a reference

SPOILERS ALERT

Minor Flaws

Distinguishes the character but doesn’t have any impact on the plot (Patterson).

Absent-minded: Ombra is very much forgetful on a daily basis. People should remind her several times about something she has to get done. This also makes her unreliable with doing tasks and other's requests, and it is so bothering to those around her.

Ignorant: This is close to the previous one. Ombra tends to neglect the "pointless" and "boring" activities of a normal life. She does what she feels like it at the moment, something that doesn't "waste" her time. This also implies to those around her. She often ignores her friends and colleagues' needs, worries and emotions.

Fussy: It is very difficult to befriend Ombra not only because she's an introvert, but because it's hard to reach to her standards. In her view, the majority of humans and human-like creatures have lower than average or average IQs, and they're all the same shit. She picks those as her friends who impress her with their minds, ideas and unique personalities which give her the chance to observe.

Hateful: Ombra hates children with a passion. Just keep them away from her.

Withdrawn: Being an introvert and fussy person she is, she often tends to isolate herself in her loneliness. She has a very small circle of friends, and social interactions is usually boring and time-wasting to her.

Major Flaws

Has more of a debilitating impact on the character physically, psychologically and morally (Patterson).

Stoic: Ombra tends to be so logical that it makes her bottle-up and neglect her own emotions. She doesn't recommend people to be this way. She believes that feelings must be expressed, but deep down she thinks that they're huge weak spots at least for herself.

Impious: Every moment of her childhood was affected by religious trauma. Ombra believes that religion is a weapon of manipulation, and whoever follows one is stupid and narrow-minded. She would challenge them into arguments to no end and may even tease them here and there. And if they piss her off enough, she may get physically violent.

Stubborn: Ombra's mind can't be easily played with. She made it up years ago, and it's well-preserved. She will even force her opinions upon others, if it is needed.

Controlling: Ombra suffers when things are out of her control even if it is other people's behaviors. In fact, this is one of the reasons why she can't spend time with kids - they're out of her control and she never wants to unnecessarily hurt them. Even though she is self-aware, it does affect her partnerships and her relationship with Quan Chi.

Secretive: Ombra acts strategically when it comes to revealing the facts about herself. If it is necessary, she will use manipulation to craft a whole different image of herself in people's minds. And only one person knows about her true intentions: Quan Chi.

Fatal Flaw

The major downfall of a character (Patterson).

Ombra's fatal flaw is Rebellious.

It was first commenced with rebelling against the government. She risked her whole life, including her family's. She had to emigrate to keep everyone safe. But the emigration didn't cease her. Ombra used every opportunity to fight with the oppressive government and its branches. She accepted to join the Earthrealm Defenders to gain more power which was beside risking her dream career life. Then she left behind her good friend Fujin to join the MRD in order to earn more power to achieve her now bigger goal: fighting with oppressive governments and destroying the roots of religion. As Ombra tracks her quest of finding Falkus, her doubts become certainty: The Elder Gods are liars and the entire system of the universe isn't what it seems to be. Now Ombra is going to rebel against the Elder Gods, and turn the whole universe against herself.

[unnursvanablog]

The books I read in 2023 / part 2

and what I thought of them...

Lessons in Chemistry - Bonnie Garmus: ★★ Such a tiresome read, the characters got on my nerves and just the way the story was told and even just the subject of it didn't feel strong, well thought out or deep enough and I was just bored.

Bound Feet - Kelsea Yu: ★★★★ I so enjoyed the horror and folklore elements here and the story drew me in from the very first page. The plot was thrilling and well laid out even for such a short story, the characters felt real and interesting and the sadness that is the main theme is beautifully woven into the story.

A Closed and Common Orbit - Becky Chambers: ★★★ This is a real cozy read but the two timelines that intermix within the story felt very confusing to me at first and the jump between them really made it so that I could never really immerse myself in either. But the ending, and just when the two plots start to connect is lovely, tugs at your heartstrings and feels so incredibly well earned.

The Familiar - Leigh Bardugo: ★★★ The book starts off promising, it has an interesting premise, but the story itself just kind of drags, it takes such long for things to happen and by the middle I really just didn't about what was happening. The romance didn't grab me, the main characters didn't stand out and the others were just weak, but the history that inspired this was interesting.

The Tatami Galaxy - Tomihiko Morimi: ★★★ There is fun humor present within the story, the writing has its own style and the idea behind it is really interesting. The juxtaposition between all these different dimensions and how the characters are the same and yet not at the same time is very smart, but I got quite bored of it as I got further into the story, and I think it’s just because the characters weren’t engaging to me. They are intentionally made unlikable, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing in fiction, but it doesn’t quite work here in my opinion.

Idol, Burning - Rin Usami: ★★★ An easy read with an interesting premise. The story grabs you easily, but I was expecting a much bigger or deeper examination of fandom culture and the people who engage in those things. It was more of an observation than anything else, lacking a bit of depth in parts and overall, I wanted the character to go on a bit more of a journey and come to a more impactful conclusion at the end.

DallerGut Dream Department Store - Lee Mi-ye: ★★★ I would have liked a bit more from this story. This whimsical little tale feels a bit like a fable or fairy tale that goes by just a little too quickly and really doesn't linger in my mind at all after reading it, and I think that has something to do with the depth of the characters or lack thereof.

Welcome to the Hyunam-dong Bookshop - Hwang Bo-Reum: ★★★★ An ode to literature, the space and community that is created around it. Slow and cozy, but an enjoyable read. Really captures how these small little details moments shape our lives, who we are as human beings and the theme of how we need to recharge and relax with things that give us joy during the the busyness of life is very nicely done.

Hamingja þessa heims - Sigríður Hagalín Björnsdóttir: ★★★ Although the story starts off well and the text manages to put you well into both the timeframes that appear in the book and the plot is interesting, it all becomes rather tiresome by the middle of the book. And although the historian's interpretation of the story or the sources he found is the essence of the story, as well as how these readings gradually make him gain a new perspective on things, I felt the progress and the approach of that reveal in the book comes too slowly and the story is just too repetitive, so the theme and the ending don't feel deserved or satisfactory.

A Crane Among Wolves - June Hur: ★★★ I enjoyed it the most when the pace of the story was a little slower, like it was in the beginning. As soon as the story seems to go into a different gear, I felt like I distanced myself a bit from the story and the characters because there was too much going on or crammed together into the narrative. There was not room for the story to breath. I wanted a little more emotion and more scenes that built the spark between the main characters, both while they were investigating the mystery and preparing for the coup, but also just outside of it. There was too much plot, so the romance that came towards the end didn't feel earned because of lack of buildup. However, I enjoyed how unafraid the author seemed to be highlighting the corruption that seemed to have crept into society within the story and the historical aspects and how it never felt too overwhelming or too gritty.

Squire - Nadia Shammas, Sara Alfageeh: ★★★★ Fantastical little tale that managed to show quite well how imperialist propaganda seeps into various parts of society and what it takes to break away from it in a concise, yet simple way. A great little adventure with fun characters and an important message, but I felt like the pacing was just a bit too quick at times. I wish there would be a sequel.

Skuld - Emil Hjörvar Petersen: ★★★★ A sharp and exciting final chapter to a series that has only grown and gotten better with time, just as the characters involved in it. The story is engaging, although it hits a bit of lull for a while towards the middle, but the ending is emotional and satisfying for a story like this. Icelandic folklore is carefully interwoven with the exciting modern thriller in a fun and original way.

[deprivedwithjoy]

The Clear Sight of a Blind Lady

R E F L E C T I O N

Do not ever mistake me for a fool, your backhanded compliments are well-received but disregarded. Oppress your resentment, and you shall receive a politely served silent treatment. There is no need to act like a clown performing in a circus, if you're that desperate for attention then go block the streets and have a bus filled with dumb children to run you over. Maybe this time, playing the victim would actually convince people. Before you react negatively to this post, allow me to clarify this once and for all. No, this is not about you. However, if I did hit a nerve, please go to the nearest hospital immediately and demand to be prescribed anaesthesia to ease the pain of an intentionally stabbed wound. Another option would be to lie to yourself, use passive aggression, and create imaginary arguments in your head while staring at the window for several hours as if you're the main character with an incredibly traumatic past.

During the years of oxygen consumption, the compilation of data from experiences formulated a conclusion. Ignoring the elephant in the room does not make YOU the bigger person. It only makes things worse. And by that, I mean, it only makes your resentment worse because you thought you were undergoing an intense villain arc when in all actuality, you're not. Those people are stuck in the loop of hell where they are so convinced that their beliefs are righteous and justified, despite multiple signs of inherent subjectivity. They labelled close ties to be selfish after a trivial disagreement, as they claim themselves to be the so-called "open-minded" individuals who follow ONLY the ethical rules of life. That mindset itself is ironic; they're basically calling the world flat but simultaneously, they frown upon those who are humiliated for being in the same dark side of stupidity.

Once again referring to that random elephant who is currently banging its head against the floral-decorated wall, allow me to elaborate. You can still see the elephant, it did not just magically disappear after stealing the bike from your garage. For this upcoming statement, I would like to NOT apologise in advance for certain people's entitlement and inability to accept the fact that they are not always right. Therefore, if an acquaintance of mine wishes to separate themselves from my life, then they are more welcome to do so. Pride is often useful if it is to protect the values of oneself. The moment a blunder of mine was revealed, I tend to adjust my actions to prevent any further harm in the future and I also try my best to acknowledge the wisdom in failure.

Unfortunately, not everyone has the same principles as mine. Too much pride and vanity will cause more damage than the shifting of perspectives. Either way, do not mistake my kindness for weakness. Although I'm willing to understand your situation and compromise, I will not ALLOW you to disrespect me. If our relationship is lasting merely for the reason that I'm agreeable and you reap the fruitful harvest, then our relationship is fragile and it was already meant to be broken from the start.

If you identify one of my mistakes as an envious action of betrayal to pull you down, then let go of me. Let's be honest, if that's how shallow your mindset is, then none of your relationships will last.

If you view yourself to be superior to others for your diligence and some positive traits from past achievements, have you tried looking into the mirror to check how inflated your ego truly is?

If you accuse me of someone who is verbally abusive and toxic for learning how to stand up for myself, isn't it "a tad bit" hypocritical since you are willing to do much worse to me just to cross my boundaries? You went so far as to get mad at me for saying "No" when it's my right to decline something I do not want. You can't even accept it, do you? No worries, I get it. We're not as self-aware and "amazing" as we thought. And sorry to burst your bubble, but you should seriously stop living in that victimhood mentality. Like no cap, that sucks. Want my reflection? Here it is. My reflection is a reflection of another person.

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Kars' Character

Hello everyone! FYI I am not ignoring your requests. I have tried for a week to get them finished and I keep losing motivation. Then I had the brilliant idea of writing something else about an interesting topic and then I’ll be able to finish a few requests! Today’s post is another character analysis. This is still a multi-fandom blog; you will see content related to other shows besides Voltron. Today’s character analysis is on Kars, the 10,000-year-old vampire. That’s funny. He, Allura, and Coran are the same age!

Overview

I watched JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures about a month ago when I became frustrated that there were only 4 seasons of Hunter x Hunter on Netflix. Remember the scene in the election arc when the citizens were casting their votes for chairperson and Hisoka walked up with his arms forming an “S”? Many people were posing the question of it being a “JoJo’s” reference and for the life of me, I never understood what they were talking about. Finally, I watched the show for the first time and by season 2 I could understand what they were saying.

I have to admit that by the second episode I was bored because the nature of season one took place in the 1800s England and nothing exciting happened. Though I worked my way through a few more episodes. I noticed a creepy stone mask on the way and how it never fell unless blood was splattered on it. I concluded the mask was going to play the role of an antagonist or help the antagonist succeed. Although this post is about Kars, I would like to take a moment and say that Jonathan’s death was very heart wrenching and it made me angry. Jonathan was unnecessarily nice to Dio and living in a privileged bubble lead to his demise. Jonathan was stronger than Dio and he should have kicked his ass once and for all. Have you noticed that after Joseph’s father, all JoJo’s (at least until season 5) could beat the antagonist in the show?

Anyway, the mask is a key tool in the bizarre adventures that each protagonist experiences.

Kars is a 10,000-year-old vampire that designed the Stone Mask and is essentially responsible for the horrific events that have happened throughout history. Dio being turned into a merciless vampire and his minions resulted from the Stone Mask. After discovering that he and his people could not be out in the sun, he concluded he needed the Red Stone of Aja to complete his transformation. Lisa-Lisa, a 50-year-old human woman, has possession of the stone given by her foster father Straizo. Kars, along with the 3 remaining Pilar Men (Wamuu, Esidsi, and Santana, can only survive in the sun if they two wear the mask with the Red Stone of Aja. After awakening, it is quite clear that Kars is on a mission to retrieve the stone and will destroy anything in his way. He was the only one wanting to live a life outside of the darkness. This was the driving force of creating so many Stone Masks and later discovering the need for the Red Stone of Aja. Kars understood the mask would only work on him partially because of his larger skull size, aka body manipulation. This created an increase in hunger. The Pillar Men did not like this at all and sought to eliminate him so he could not ruin the flow of nature. Kars retaliated; he murdered 99% of his people only leaving his friend Esidsi, and two children known as Santana and Wamuu.

Kars’ character is very interesting. A dog was about to have its life ended because of drunk drivers. I don’t know if this struck a nerve in his soul, but Kars nearly cut off the driver’s head, causing them to crash their car and the puppy was saved. After being defeated by Joseph the first time, he landed at the end of a snowy cliff, making sure he did not land on a few daisies. Given these unique interactions with nature and secondary species, Kars has some vendetta against humans. What did they do to him or his people for him to care only about flowers and animals but want to wipe out Harmon users? He insists that Lisa-Lisa drink poison instead of fighting her. Fighting women is something he and Wamuu don’t take pleasure in doing. When I heard this for the first time, I didn’t know if that was something to be proud of or if he was being misogynistic (you know the stereotypical view society has about women). Even if he genuinely did not want to lay a finger on Lisa-Lisa or any woman, his intentions are very questionable. He mimics politeness. If Kars offered to pay for dinner or a drink, run. Just run because if you don’t, you’ll probably be turned into a vampire or be eaten alive.

This is off topic but I wanted to pose this scenario. After watching Battle Tendency for the 10th time, I always like to bring out the “soft” side in villains. Being a sucker for Fluff isn’t helpful. I know that’s defeating the purpose of villains and antagonists, but I can’t help and wonder how it would show in Kars. As I’ve previously stated, Kars seems to care for animals and plants more than humans...so there’s a soft spot somewhere in there. I had a rather amusing and odd thought involving Kars and Lisa-Lisa. Since Lisa-Lisa is the leader over Caesar and Joseph and Kars is the leader over the remain few Pillar Men, I can’t help but wonder how they’d react to each other. When Lisa-Lisa is ordered by Kars to stay at their hideout while Joseph retrieved the Stone, I know she didn’t stand there like a statue for nearly 12 hours. I imagine Kars offering a drink, water, or juice just to get her talking. I mean, she has to warm up to him or it’s going to be a horrible 12 hours. Then he’ll try to engage in conversation and will only try to flirt with her to see how she responds. He may make a comment about how clear her skin is, how perfect her makeup stays intact, or how her legs look better than his (well, duh, you’re 9,950 years older than her!). This way, he can exploit anything he deems as a weakness, but she is a smart woman. She would reveal nothing about her that could be used against her. As OOC as this seems, it could be something he’d do. Remember, he mimics politeness; he has a trick up his sleeve. Although that may be true, at the back of his mind, he really admires how young and enchanting she looks.

Although Esidsi, Wamuu, and Santana are Pillar Men, they are ancient humanoid superhuman beings who lived on the American continent. They have supernatural abilities that leave them invincible while the sun is down. They look similar to humans, but they are much bigger and muscular. Among the 3 remaining Pillar Men, I seem to gravitate to Kars than the others. Before you judge me, I’ll explain. Kars, like many male characters in this anime and others, has a unique character design. Contrary to popular belief, I like Kars better in his head wrap or while he is wearing his hat and cape. That outfit reminds me of a ghost/monster from the remastered Scooby-Doo series in the 70s. The one thing in particular that stood out to me was his eye shadow and mascara. The earrings didn’t surprise me as every time I draw my male characters, they automatically get a pair of earrings. While being physically fit, he can make ANYTHING look excellent!

Just like any villain, Kars and Joseph are equally arrogant and can exploit their opponent’s weaknesses against them. Making jokes about Lisa-Lisa while she is unconscious nearly sets him over the edge and while Kars thinks he has defeated Joseph, he is launched into space.

Last but not least, I noticed how the first two protagonists form an unusual bond with their enemies. As many of you have seen, Dio calls Jonathan JoJo but does not acknowledge Joseph or Jotaro in the same way. He does twice towards Jotaro but not after that. Kars refers to Joseph as JoJo and I have to believe that even if he knew his real name, he’d still refer to him as JoJo. Wamuu stated that fighting Jospeh was worth his time as he did not waste it and fight fairly. Throughout their battles, they somehow remind me of childish games with the name-calling and all. I wish Kars was not a “onetime” villain. I wish he could roll over to the next season. This is a preference, as I hate seasonal villains, like Chrollo Lucilfer or anyone similar.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading!

[laiqualaurelote]

ship ask game

thanks @darntootinvladimirputin​ for tagging me in this! funtimes

1. First ship: Mulan/Shang from Disney’s Mulan (1998). I think I wrote post-canon fic for this in crayon on coloured paper. IDK I was like seven

2. First OTP: Éowyn/Faramir from The Lord Of The Rings. The scene on the walls! “It reminds me of Númenor” set the gold standard for pick-up lines for the rest of my life. 

3. Current favourite ship: Ted Lasso/Trent Crimm! One and a half fics deep, baby

4. Your ship since the first minute: Aziraphale/Crowley from Good Omens. I don’t think I even had a concept of what slash was when I first read this book but I was like “something is going on with this and I am here for more of whatever it is”

5. Ships you wish had been endgame: Frank Castle/Karen Page from Daredevil/The Punisher. The OTP that brought me back to fanfiction after a five-year hiatus! I near wept when Daredevil got cancelled without this ship ever having come in. I guess my weakness is good onscreen depictions of journalists, with a side of their strange relationships with their newsmakers. 

6. Ship you wish was canon: Arthur/Eames from Inception. I guess we can only dream a little bigger, darling.

7. Ship that most of the fandom hates but you love: I don’t think I have a ship like this, though I do have a number of rarepairs that most of the fandom just never thinks about, e.g. Sahra Guleed/Michael Cheung in Rivers Of London (I think I was and still am the author of the only fic with this ship in existence). 

8. You don’t even watch the show, but you ship it: James Bond/Q. I hadn’t seen a Bond film since 2006 and was converted solely on the strength of this fic, it’s that powerful.

9. Ship you wish had a different storyline: Grace Burgess/Tommy Shelby from Peaky Blinders. I loved them in S1 and I’m still not over what they did to her character in S2, let alone the travesty that was S3. 

10. Favourite ship that’s endgame: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson from Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries. I spent most of the year here and wrote six fics for this ship. If it hadn’t been endgame I think it would really have put the ‘murder’ in ‘Murder Mysteries’.  

11. Ship you initially didn’t think you would get into: Ted/Trent. I truly never expected to be here - I was just waffling along, appreciating Ted Lasso as a nice thing to watch on weekends, aware of Trent Crimm, The Independent’s existence but taking no particular note of him beyond observing that as on-screen journalists went, he was an above-average specimen - and then came the Midnight Train To Royston reveal and I got more exercised about this than a gym membership and ranted about journalistic ethics to anyone who would listen (not a whole lot of people), and THEN one week later that idiot’s got himself fired just so he can have significant moments in the parking lot with the man he tanked his career for, I was in tatters, I had never felt so seen by an ongoing TV show. I’m still in shock about the whole thing.

12. Ship you lost interest in: Kylo Ren/Rey from the Star Wars sequels. I think after writing my Sherlock Holmes crossover I had exorcised all my feelings for this ship, and it didn’t help that The Rise Of Skywalker was so unrelentingly dreadful. I mostly don’t keep tabs on that fandom any more, with the exception of this Civil War AU of nearly 110k words and counting that I’m oddly invested in seeing to the end.

I tag: anyone who would like to give this a go! 

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 18:

иα נαємιи

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @whathamelon @curieouscapt @silent-potato @gjheaaa @ajhdr @mrcarbonatedmilk @unknown5tar

warnings: Jaemin not knowing what an erection is 😭, fluff, fluff, fluff and angst, not proofread forgive me 😞

“There she is.” Doyoung pointed out, looking directly at you, gracefully walking down the hall. “Her name is y/n, she’s 12.”

“How long will I have to stay with her?” Jaemin stared at you with curiosity.

“If everything goes right, until her soul is ready to abandon her body.”

“What do you mean if everything goes right?”

“There have been some angels who have given into this world’s temptations.” He shut his eyelids, his frown growing deeper as he spoke. “You shall never give into them, Jaemin. I heard loosing your wings causes a great pain, physical and mental.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“Never reveal your true identity to her.” His hand gripped Jaemin’s shoulder. “You’ll be able to observe her in your real form, but she’ll never be able to see you, unless you allow her to.” Jaemin nodded, mentally taking notes of all the rules he had to follow. “If you wish to communicate something directly to her, you can disguise yourself as one of her relatives.”

“I have one more question.” Doyoung patiently waited for him to keep talking. “Aren’t guardian angels assigned to humans when they’re born?”

Doyoung remained silent, deciding wether to tell him or not the truth.

“Her former guardian angel fell in love with her.” Jaemin’s eyes went wide, how could an angel fall for a human? “He tried to show himself before her, but we stopped him on time.” Doyoung sighed, a glint of sadness in his voice as he resumed the story. “Unfortunately, he was vanished from heaven. The pain of losing his wings was greater than his love for y/n, greater than his will to live apparently.”

“Well that’s sad.” He pursed his lips. “I promise to do a good job protecting her.”

“I’m sure you will, Jaemin. You’re a good angel.”

“Jaemin, watch out!” His string of thoughts was cut off by your hand around his wrist, tugging on it aggressively to stop him from running into a bike. “Pay attention while walking, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“Worried about me?” He smiled at your concerned features.

“Shut up before I kick your ass.” Despite your sometimes aggressive behavior, Jaemin knew you were a softie. How could he not know when he literally spent every moment with you, even if you were not aware of his presence sometimes. “Will you come help me unpack after classes?” Your fingers suddenly laced with his, a habit he’d discovered a few months into your friendship and never failed to make his heart race.

“Sure.”

You didn’t expect him to appear at your front door with a bunch of house supplies.

“What’s all this?” You helped him get everything inside your messy apartment. “This is really too much, but thank you.” You pulled him into a hug, your palms stroking his back tenderly.

Jaemin wanted to push you away, he wanted to stop his heartbeat from increasing, but you were intoxicating. It was useless to deny he felt something for you, but as long as nor you or another angel knew, everything would be fine.

“Are you wearing something under your shirt?” You frowned, feeling something shift below your palms.

Jaemin pulled away, internally scolding his wings for trying to show themselves.

“Let’s unpack.” You didn’t mention the topic again, but he knew you weren’t gonna forget about it.

He helped you move some furniture, hang up a few posters and fold your clothes to fit them inside your new closet.

“Wait!” You tried snatching the box of your underwear out of his hands, but it was already too late. He held your red, lacy thong right in front of his face, examining it before realizing what it was.

“Sorry.” His face was flushed as he put the piece of clothing back into the box, a bulge growing inside his jeans. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care. Truth to be told, he’d never experienced pleasure, therefore, he wasn’t aware of the reaction your thong had provoked in his weak human body.

You didn’t make a comment on it, deciding not to humiliate him. After an hour of folding clothes, you decided to take a break, ordering some takeout food and letting Jaemin pick a movie to watch.

“It’s getting late, you should stay over.” You picked up the remains of your food and saved them in the fridge for later. “You can take the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“Why don’t we sleep together?” The words slipped past his lips before his brain could register. “I-I mean-”

“It’s okay, as long as you don’t kick me I think we’ll be fine.” You smiled so naturally at him, as if your heart wasn’t rapidly drumming against your rib cage. “I have a few of my brother’s shirts, you can grab one of those.”

He tried calming himself down inside the bathroom. It was the first time he’d sleep with you in flesh and bone, not like he usually did, in his true form with his wings around your body, keeping you warm.

He was expecting for you to crawl into his arms like you usually did in your sleep, but you didn’t even bother to spare him a glance, too concentrated on your phone. A burning feeling started growing inside his chest, definitely not something an angel should feel. He snatched your phone away.

“Hey!” You tried getting it back, accidentally hugging him on the process. “Give it back.” Your nose was almost touching his.

His deep, brown orbs stared into yours, his pupils growing slightly bigger at the sight of your.

“Jaemin...” You whispered, his erratic breath fanning against your cheeks.

None of you moved, afraid to do something you’d later regret. But his lips looked so tempting, so kissable, you couldn’t resist leaning in, your lips almost brushing before you spoke.

“Is this okay?” You were so painfully close. He knew the right thing was to push you away, but how could he when you were looking at him with pleading eyes? Those eyes that made him want to lay the entire word at your feet.

“Yes.” He was the one to pull your face closer to his, bringing his hand to the back of your head to hold you in place, just like the main characters of the corny movies you loved did.

He wanted to cry right there, the thing he’d been fantasizing about all those years was finally happening. For a moment, he stopped thinking about his wings, stopped worrying about the fact that he’d probably be punished for his sinful actions.

“Your lips are so soft.” He whispered, cupping your cheeks with delicacy pulling away only to leave random pecks on your lips, enjoying the warmth of them. “Like small, pink clouds.”

You giggled at the comparison.

“I like you, Jaemin.”

“I like you too, y/n. So much.” He wanted to say ‘I love you’ but he figured out it might be a bit to early for you.

He continued savoring your lips, pecking them as if he was trying to memorize every little texture of your plump skin. Your hands went to his sensitive back, unknowingly caressing the spot were his wings were hidden.

It all happened too fast, his large wings ripping through the borrowed shirts and showing themselves to you. The look on your face was of pure shock, your arms falling limp to your sides as Jaemin’s stomach stirred with fear.

“Y/n...” He called you at least five times, your eyes fixated on the silky, white feathers.

It was all too much to process. Was he pranking you? No, fake wings wouldn’t move the way his did.

“Say something, please.” You noticed how his wings fell slightly, as if mimicking his emotions.

Drops of salty tears falling into your cheeks awakened you from your trance, your best friend crying on top of you as his hands held your face dearly.

“How?” Was the only thing you could pronounce, your mind still trying to work through the situation.

“I know this looks bad, but I swear, I never meant to deceive you. I wanted to protect you from afar, but I couldn’t resist meeting you. You’re the brightest human I’ve ever seen, and I don’t deserve to be with you. I am a liar, a cheater who used his powers to get into your life.” He began rambling, your mind slowly connecting the dots until you finally had an idea of what he was.

“An angel?” You asked, voicing your inner doubts.

“I don’t deserve to be your guardian...” He ignored your previous question, tucking his face in your neck.

His wings timidly pressed against his back, moving the slightest as your fingers danced over them, mesmerized at the soft texture.

“I feel like I’m dreaming.” Your voice didn’t sound angry, in fact, he could almost see your smile as you spoke. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?” Your hands forced his face up, making him face You. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, Nana.”

“They might’ve found by now, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I am willing to lose my wings as a punishment for those amazing moments I’ve spent by your side.”

He was about to incorporate, about to leave you and never come back, but the sudden crash of your lips against his had him frozen at the spot.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble...” You whispered against his lips. “But neither do I want you to leave me. I'm a selfish human that wants her angel to give up everything for her, I'm sorry.”

He smiled, euphoric at the words he'd only heard in his wildest dreams.

“Then I guess I'll have to oblige.”

Jaemin spent the night curled up with his loved human, wings protecting her from any danger while Doyoung watched everything with confusion. He knew it was the right thing to punish the young angel for his sinful actions, but there was nothing sinful at the unfolding scene. If anything, it was the purest thing he'd seen from his vast years on earth.

“Good luck, Jaemin.” The black-haired left unnoticed, letting his friend fulfill his duties as your guardian angel until the last breath of life left your body.

[cosmicjoke]

One thing I want to discuss right now, even though I haven’t yet reached this point in the manga of SnK, is Levi’s choice to let Erwin die on the rooftop in Shinganshina.  I’ll go more into it in detail once I’ve read the chapter where this happens, but I have watched the anime, and read some panels from the chapter already, so I’m just going to go into a little bit of my thoughts here.

One thing I haven’t seen discussed much is how much Kenny’s words to Levi right before he died impacted Levi’s decision here, even though there’s direct, visual correlation between the two, with Levi thinking back over Kenny’s words as he makes his ultimate choice.

Levi is sitting over Erwin, syringe in hand, ready to give the serum to him, when Erwin’s arm flies up and accidentally knocks Levi’s hands away, before he starts muttering incoherently about his father.  

Kenny’s words to Levi before he dies, about how everyone is a slave to something, that everyone has something that drives them, has a big influence on Levi’s choice here to let Erwin die, and that’s acknowledged, but I don’t think it’s always delved into just WHY Kenny’s words make such a big impact on him.  Kenny, in the end, let his final action be one of selflessness, by giving Levi the serum and letting himself die without realizing his dream.  This ran contradictory to everything Levi had ever known about Kenny, which was that he was a totally self-serving man who would do anything to keep himself alive.  In that moment, with Kenny’s final act, he shows himself to be more human that Levi had ever seen him before.  No longer the probably larger than life figure Levi had always seen him as, as a man who saved him when he was a child from starvation, taught him how to fight, and then selfishly abandoned him to survive on his own.  

Now, how this connects with Erwin, and Levi’s decision, is that similarly to how Levi finally saw the frailty in Kenny, saw the human weakness and fault in Kenny, Levi saw it also in Erwin, up on that rooftop, probably for the first time.

I think in terms of Levi’s view of Erwin, he saw Erwin as a person who, as Isyama said, was “an existence bigger than his own”, as someone who could see something he couldn’t, could understand something more profound about the world than he could.  Had a greater vision and scope than Levi, or anyone else.  In a lot of ways, I think Levi almost hero worshipped Erwin, saw him as an ideal human being, of altruistic, selfless character, willing to do anything and everything to ensure the survival of humanity.  But, of course, when we hero worship a person, we tend to become blind to their faults.  I think that’s why, when Erwin accidentally revealed the true motive behind his actions to Levi, Levi looked so shocked, and was later so upset.  He realized Erwin wasn’t the perfect man he thought he was, that he suffered from human frailty just like everyone else, and that he was just as subject to selfish whims as the rest of them.  Before, Levi looked at Erwin as the ONLY person capable of leading the SC and gaining humanity their ultimate victory over the Titans.  To him, Erwin was the only person who could achieve this, the only person with the scope of vision able to achieve such a seemingly impossible task.  And even after Erwin reveals the true motivation behind his actions, even after Levi’s perception of Erwin as this altruistic, superior person begins to crumble, Levi STILL believes Erwin is the only person capable of leading them to victory, of saving humanity with his mind, etc...  Levi still sees Erwin as completely necessary to humanity’s success.

But... I think, up on that rooftop, in that moment when Erwin knocks the syringe away and begins muttering incoherently about his father, it’s in that moment that Levi’s last remaining idealized perception of Erwin slips away, and he’s left only to acknowledge that Erwin is, after all, just a regular man.  He sees, exposed fully for the first time, Erwin’s frailty and weakness as a human being, his faults and shortcomings.  How, in many ways, Erwin is still like a child, longing to right the wrongs of his father’s death, to give his father redemption by proving him right, driven by a childish need to enact revenge on those who tortured and killed his father by exposing their lies.  This is what Erwin was a slave to, just like Kenny spoke about, and it’s in that moment that Levi really realizes it for the first time.  That Erwin isn’t above that kind of very base, human compulsion.  Essentially, that Erwin isn’t perfect.  He isn’t all-knowing.  That he doesn’t have a scope of vision beyond everyone else.  That he isn’t a god, or a devil.  He’s just a man.  One who’s been suffering a long time with the burden of his position and the guilt of what’s really driving him.

I think, in that moment then, as the veneer of Erwin’s perfection is stripped away, Levi is forced to face the reality that what he’d believed all this time about Erwin’s “higher existence”, and how that lead him to believe in Erwin being essential to the success of humanity isn’t, actually, true.  I think when Levi realizes that, when he realizes that Erwin was a major piece in them getting where they have so far, and in the success they’ve had, but that he wasn’t ever this unshakable guiding light or perfect, unerring leader that Levi had believed him to be, it also allows Levi to realize that he can let Erwin go, that he can end Erwin’s suffering, and that the Survey Corps, and by extension, humanity, will still be able to go on.  Will still be able to fight, and succeed, even without Erwin there.  He realizes that he can show Erwin mercy, and finally let him rest, without destroying humanity’s chances of survival.  That someone else can step in and lead them there.  Even if Erwin can’t be replaced, they can still function and succeed without him.  It gives Levi the ability to let Erwin go, to give him peace.  He wasn’t going to let Erwin die before because he still believed they absolutely NEEDED him, because, despite Erwin’s motives being selfish in nature, his ability to see a more far ranging vision than anyone else was still intact.  He still, Levi believed, had a superior mind and ability.  But then in Erwin’s most vulnerable, exposed moment here, muttering about his father, Levi saw in Erwin what Kenny had been speaking about, that human obsession and need, that human frailty and fault.  Erwin was no longer the perfect, unerring leader Levi had built him up to be in his mind, was no longer the unshakable presence or force they needed to save humanity.  He was just a man, suffering, in pain and burdened by an awful guilt, and Levi understood in that moment that he could let Erwin go, let Erwin finally have peace, and still the rest of them would be able to continue on.  Hope wouldn’t be lost without Erwin, because Erwin was just one person, one piece in their success, and they could and would find a way without him. 

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 3 (6-15): “That wasn’t supposed to happen” | Reconciling with Tim | Autistic!Damian

Note: at this point, this is just "Damian cries and Dick hugs him" week. Someone send help. I love these two so much.

Warnings: angst and tears and Damian being a ball of separation anxiety.

---

The smell of sea salt mixed with the pollution of Gotham's coast is almost close to nauseating. If Damian hadn't already been feeling anxious and sick to his stomach, he would definitely be now.

And the thing is, he doesn't even know why.

It's been this way all night. It started before tonight, even. He's convinced himself it's probably something he had for lunch, but even a child would know that's a weak grasping of straws. No one ever gets sick from the food made in the Wayne Manor, not when Alfred is there to cook it.

But he tells himself it's because of that anyways. He feels sick to his stomach because the lettuce in his sandwich must have been old. Not for any other reason. And certainly not because his father has been off-world for the past month and Richard is once again holding the mantle of Batman while he's away.

"What do you say about heading home early?" Richard asks from where he stands besides Damian. The word home grates on Damians nerves for reasons that he... cannot bring himself to comprehend.

Damian nods his head, not saying anything. It's been a quiet night in Gotham anyways. His nerves feel fried from the constant anxiety pressing in his chest and he's sure the moment he gets to his bed he'll pass out.

Or at least stare blankly at the ceiling until he does.

The ride back to the manor is silent between Damian and Richard. Almost a month ago, it used to be loud with banter whenever he and Richard had a minute to themselves. They'd get back at the manor and Alfred would be there to pester them into taking care of themselves. Cassandra and Duke would enter and leave as they wished with the occasional appearances of Timothy and Jason. The only time they had to themselves was inside the batmobile, as there's not much private banter you can have while defending the streets either.

But it's silent now. Damian's chest and stomach hurts and no words seem to want to come to his throat, but he's not usually the one to start the conversations anyways. Something is keeping Richard silent as well. The thought that, for whatever reason, Richard doesn't want to talk to him makes his anxiety spike just the same as the thought of conversation.

It feels like the second they pull into the cave Damian's jumping out of the car and stalking towards the changing rooms. Alfred let's him stride past, lifting an eyebrow as he does, but he doesn't stop him. Alfred simply walks over towards Richard and offers him a cup of tea from the metal tray he's been holding.

Damian can hear the low rumble of words beginning to be exchanged between the two, but he's already too far away to make sense of them. He doesn't care to listen anyways. He just wants to get dressed and go to bed without anyone talking to him.

Without anyone asking him what's wrong. They must notice something is wrong, right? What would he say if they do ask? No. No one knows anything is wrong. Because nothing is wrong. Everything is okay.

He dresses into a clean pair of pajamas that feel fresh from the dryer and heads straight towards the exit of the batcave, not sparing Richard or Alfred a glance as he does so.

Everything is okay. He ate something bad for lunch.

That's all.

He manages to get all the way to his bedroom without running into anyone. Cassandra and Duke must be busy tonight, and he can't think of any reason why Timothy and Jason would be here at this hour of night. It's not surprising he didn't run into anyone. Why does he almost wish he had?

He shakes his head and closes the door behind him. Whatever is making him feel this way, it will go away if he rests. He's sure of it.

Wordlessly and single-mindedly, he removes the decorative pillows from his bed and pulls down the sheets. In a few practiced and fluid movements, he's under the covers and glaring at the ceiling, his stomach clenching.

There's glow in the dark stars above him, made of plastic and held to the ceiling with fun-tak. His eyes drift to a bigger glowing figure, it's circular and there's swirling patterns that mimic the global storm of Jupiter's surface. Another has two rings, like the planet in Treasure Planet.

Richard put them up the second month after Damian first came here. Damian had expressed... desires... to study and learn how kids who weren't raised in the League of Assassins lived. Glow in the dark stars was something Richard very much enjoyed getting off of Amazon that night, saying they were all the craze when he was younger. Every friend he visited had them in their bedrooms. His own childhood bedroom still has some old and dim ones hanging on the ceiling from when he convinced his father to get him some.

He didn't understand the appeal of them then. Nor does he now. Perhaps it's something to do with children in Gotham never seeing the actual stars because of the light pollution. All he knows is that in the desert he grew up in... these fake green plastic decorations do not compare to the galaxy he used to see as if the only thing separating him from the universe was a single pane of glass.

He turns away from the fake stars, closing his eyes, before they open again to glare now at his bookshelf, filled to the brim with books of all kinds and Cheese Viking figurines. There's a collectable coin there too, one Richard accidentally won way back when he decided to buy a mystery box from some website. It turned out to be pretty rare. He gave it to Damian and Damian got curious enough to look up the game.

It's his favorite game now. Because Richard found him a random gold coin.

Richard. His stomach clenches. Why won't it stop hurting? He has no reason to be this anxious.

No reason at all.

There's a soft knock on his door. Damian shifts so he's holding himself up on his elbows, watching as the door opens to reveal none other than Richard. His hair looks damp from a shower, which makes Damian wonder how long he's been glaring at random things in his room. He's dressed in an old Gotham Knight's tee-shirt with mustard stains around the right breast. Damian went to a game with him when he was wearing that shirt. He accidentally got shoved into Richard in the crowd, looking for their seats, when Richard was holding a hotdog. It got all over him, but the mustard is the only thing that persisted multiple rounds in the washer.

"Dami? You up?" Richard asks. Damian reaches over and turns on the dim lamp by his bedside.

Richard's eyes settle on him, and he smiles. It looks strained though.

That festering, lingering anxiety spikes.

"What is it?" He asks.

Richard walks into the room, then sits down on the side of Damian's bed. Damian bends his knees to allow room for him. He brings his pillow in front of his body and hugs it.

"Did I do something wrong?"

The question shocks Damian, as he didn't mean to ask it. It seems to startle Richard as well, because he goes stock still and looks at Damian with wide eyes.

It shocks them both, but it must be the reason if a bad lunch isn't.

Then, Richard breaks into soft laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was about to ask the same thing, actually," he says, once the laughter dies down.

Damian frowns. Has Richard done anything wrong?

No. The answer is immediate. Richard hasn't done a single thing wrong. He's been nothing but his usual annoying and loud and pushy and kind and loving self since his father left and he came to keep the suit warm.

It almost feels like the beginning all over again. Waking up in the morning and smelling sweetened mocha instead of straight black coffee. Sketching in the afternoons by the fireplace in the family room and being interrupted by Richard barging in with a portable speaker, blasting the newest trending pop song. Going to bed with a goodnight hug. Bandaids snuck into Alfred's first aid supply that have cartoon and Disney characters designs. He's wearing a Frozen 2 bandaid now, on his knee.

If his father hadn't left with the rest of the Justice League, the band-aid would be a normal tan color and the day would be close to silent and alone.

It's feeling normal again, he realizes with horror. Because whatever mood Richard brings into the manor isn't normal. Normal is Bruce Wayne silently checking up on him throughout the day and calmly helping him with homework and giving tips on sketching techniques. Normal is leaning against the strong shoulder of his father as he tests those tips while his father reads a book, the only sounds to interrupt them being the ticking clock on the wall and the crackling of the fire.

Normal is... Normal isn't...

It's not this. He likes the time he spends with his father. He enjoys the wordless love and reassuring squeezes to his shoulder.

Normal isn't the loudness and silliness of Richard's affection.

And just like that, he finally knows what's wrong.

It feels the same as it used to be. Back when they thought his father was dead. Back when Richard seemed to be the only trusted adult in his life, and the daily interactions he had with him almost promised to be infinite.

And then they found out his father was still alive, just stuck in time. With the help of Timothy and others... They managed to bring him back.

And.

And.

And Richard left.

And Damian was left.

And.

And that wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?

He hasn't allowed himself to think about much. It was something neither of them had acknowledged or mentioned. Richard once said he considered adopting Damian if his father was dead. Damian didn't stop himself from taking comfort in that.

And it feels like history is repeating itself. His father is away. Richard is Batman.

However, now Damian knows that the second his father returns, Richard will be packing his bags and leaving. This isn't normal. He can't get used to this again. He loves his father. But Richard...

It hurt enough the first time, watching him go.

And it will happen all over again. He'll get comfortable with Richard and his daily hugs and laughter, and then he'll be gone.

Separation anxiety. He has separation anxiety.

"Oh buddy," Richard coos, wrapping his arms around Damian and bringing him to his lap to hold him better.

He's crying. Tears are running down his face and it's stupid, because he knows that when Richard leaves again, it won't be like he'll never see him again.

But he's crying, and it hurts. Hurts more than if he had eaten something bad. He clutches to the pillow between them and let's the tears fall.

"Tell me what's wrong," Richard soothes, probably the only person in the entire universe to not freak out when he cries. Probably the only person in the entire universe Damian would allow himself to cry like this to. "What can I do to help?"

"It's stupid," Damian says, through it's through a hiccupping sob, which makes it sound very not stupid to someone like Richard. He sniffs and rubs his eyes on the pillow, forcing his breathing to go normal and to stop crying. "It's nothing. Father will come back, and- and you'll go back to Blüdhaven, and everything will be normal again."

Richard stills, then sighs. "So it's about that," he says softly. Of course he immediately knows what Damian means. He tightens his hold on Damian. "You know when your dad comes back, nothing will change between us, right? Even if we're on the opposite side of the world."

"I don't want to be on the opposite side of the world," Damian snaps, shoving himself away from Richard and glaring. "I want- I don't-" he presses his face into his pillow and groans.

Dick is silent, then he shifts closer and wraps his arm around Damian's shoulder gently. "I know. I don't either. But... it's just the way things have to be. You know this. Just like you know that... that if you ever really want to, I can clean out my guest room."

Damian shakes his head, his feelings feeling so all over the place and raw. "I just- when father came back, I didn't expect you to just leave. I don't want to choose. I-"

"I know," Richard whispers. "I know. I love Bruce. He's my dad too. But, you know us. If I move back in, we'll be at each other's throats. I'm a grown man now, Dami. I have to be on my own. He's... Protective. He still sees me as seventeen years old. And he's your father. You should be with him."

Damian sniffs. He doesn't nod. He doesn't shake his head. Agree nor disagree.

Simply understands.

It's just the way things are.

He stays silent as Richard continues. "And you know that I'll always be there for you, if you need me. I'll drop everything for you. Just say the word. I'll be running, even if I'm on the other side of the world."

Now Damian nods. Let's the cotton of his pillowcase soak up his silent tears.

He doesn't feel much better, but he doesn't feel so awful anymore either. He supposes that's the best it will get in this situation.

So he just sits there until his head begins to dip with exhaustion and Richard pulls him in so he's laying against his shoulder. His eyelids droop, and they stay there, together, like they used to.

It's scary to allow himself to become attached to things, but he can never help himself with Richard.

The best that he can do is enjoy it while it lasts, and make the most of it.

Richard will be gone when father comes home, but for now he's here, and he's warm, and he's solid.

Damian falls asleep, and Richard doesn't leave that night.

[sepublic]

Kikimora’s Motives?

            I wonder if Kikimora is motivated to access Belos’ secrets, and that’s why she hates Hunter and tries to kill him?

         Like, it’s obvious that Belos has a LOT of secrets and all sorts of weird, hidden knowledge… Kikimora could be like other characters in that she’s extremely fascinated and curious with magic, and/or powerhungry, so it makes sense that her obsession to learn more would drive her to latch onto the Emperor- The mysterious Emperor, with his inexplicable abilities and skills, who can hear what the Titan has to teach!

         That might be why Kikimora prizes herself and wants to be Belos’ confidant so much… She wants in on the secrets, she wants to learn more- And someone like Hunter gets in the way of that. Kikimora knows that Belos isn’t invincible nor infallible, he’s struggling and needs help, he can’t do this on his own and needs a person he can trust with most of everything…

         So, Kikimora offers herself up- To take advantage of this closeness and trust by Belos, by someone who has no choice but to rely on and trust someone with that… And that’s what she does, for a few decades! Belos needs people to help him with things, his most personal rituals and whatnot… So he needs Kikimora, and by her involvement, she inevitably finds out a LOT of things!

         Belos may or may not be aware of Kikimora’s desires, and he might tolerate it simply because he needs someone to help him, anyhow… And Kikimora doesn’t seem interested in betraying him anytime soon necessarily, just being that confidant by his side, who can access Belos’ knowledge and plans as a requirement for her role. But, maybe Belos was wary of Kikimora, which would then influence a later decision in life…

         And so in comes Hunter! This young brat, who lived at least a few years before being ‘found’ by Belos… So it’s even less than sixteen years ago, when the Golden Guard came into the picture and usurped everything! For decades, Kikimora has been faithfully acting as Belos’ right-hand witch, she’s schemed and fought and worked to achieve this, those precious secrets, she’s acted as the Emperor’s proxy for him in public!

         And this is how he thanks her- By replacing Kikimora with Hunter, this little brat? This nephew, who showed up out of nowhere, because why now, why now does Belos suddenly fall back on this elusive family that he ignored for so long as Emperor? Maybe Kikimora knows the real reason as part of her aforementioned understanding of a lot of things…

         But with Hunter, with Hunter as a kid who feels dependent upon Belos, whose entire life is revolving around pleasing his uncle because he actually cares for him, unconditionally… Hunter is more useful and trustworthy as a secretkeeper and a proxy, then. Hunter knows nothing else and seemingly has no desires of his own, he feels obligated to take care of his last family member- So Belos won’t have to worry about Hunter rebelling, he won’t have to worry about Hunter using his position to find forbidden knowledge.

         And even if Hunter DID do so, it’d at least be for Belos’ sake, not his own… So, Belos replaces Kikimora with Hunter. Kiki still does her normal duties and legislation, but when it comes to personally caring for Belos? Being trusted by him, being privy to his deepest, darkest moments of vulnerability? Hunter gets in on that, too… That ruins the pride and prestige for Kikimora, as the ONLY one Belos trusts…

         But now, Hunter isn’t just with her here- He’s completely replaced her! Hunter is leaving Kikimora out, because he doesn’t trust this gremlin despite her decades of actual experience and willing, ruthless murder for Belos… Because Hunter is ‘family��, so obviously that means more!

         And Kikimora is resentful… Hunter doesn’t see Kikimora as truly in it for Belos’ sake, so it’s better to keep her out of the picture, now that someone better-suited for the job is here. And Kikimora, she’s angered by that- She found pride in being the only person that the invincible Emperor could, and HAD to be vulnerable around...

         It gave her a certain power, a special superiority- To know that she’d seen Belos at his lowest, and he had to trust and need her for this! So even if it’s not a literal position of power at the top, in a way… Kikimora feels above even Belos, as someone whose health isn’t deteriorating, as someone he’s dependent upon, as someone who takes care of him- And she derives plenty of power from that realization.

         Having Hunter come in, taking that special power, that prestigious role away… Taking away Kikimora’s power over Belos, the most skilled witch of all- That displaces Kikimora and knocks her down at least two pegs. And, because Belos has found a new confidant, he doesn’t need to let Kiki in on his later plans and ideas anymore… Effectively barring Kikimora from the knowledge she so craves and desires.

         Does Belos not care for Hunter at all, and does Kikimora recognize this? Or at least, understandably believe the Emperor doesn’t care… She overheard everything that went on, so it’s likely that Kikimora is aware of Belos’ physical abuse. That’d motivate her to believe that Hunter isn’t TRULY important to Belos, he isn’t really attached… Meaning there’s less risk and repercussion in being found out, if Kikimora had Hunter killed.

         And then Hunting Palismen occurs as we know it- Belos is vulnerable, he needs to let someone in on this moment of dependency, this deep and dark secret… And Kikimora instinctively goes along out of the habit of decades, only to be rudely reminded when Hunter makes it clear that Belos no longer needs her for that, that Kiki can no longer have this kind of leverage over the Emperor in a sense, of being needed by him- Of Belos having no choice but to let someone else see him, and know his weakness.

         Kikimora hates that… She likes lording power over others, like when she taunts Lilith- And she likes having information and dirt on others. She likes that sensation of leverage, of knowing something that others don’t, something a person is trying to hide. Kikimora likes to snoop around and know people’s secrets, and wave that in front of them in her arrogance- She’s a little gremlin who controls a huge and powerful dragon, Kikimora potentially has a Napoleon Complex like King… So she compensates through knowledge and other forms of leverage.

         Kiki likes to feel better than people, to have her thumb over beings that should theoretically outclass her- Lilith, her pet, Hunter, even Emperor Belos himself! And Hunter is an outlier she can’t control, someone she doesn’t really know, who just sort of showed up out of nowhere- So out he goes! And now Kikimora knows that Hunter was the one who sabotaged her Palisman delivery, and Hunter doesn’t realize that…

         Hunter might have his own dirt on Kikimora, he can confirm that Kiki’s Handragon attacked him, it’s no secret that it belongs to her! That could land Kikimora into trouble, but presumably out of his innate mercy and chivalry, Hunter doesn’t tell this to Belos… But still. With how her eye narrows and its pupil shrinks, you can tell Kikimora is up to something- And she plans to weaponized it, no doubt… Because she likes having things as insurance in general.

         So if Hunter tries to put her back in line by threatening to reveal her assassination attempt by Belos, who knows? Kikimora might reveal her own hidden ace in the sleeve… And that’ll put the two at a tense stand-still as they try to figure each other out, and navigate. Hunter sees himself as protecting his uncle AND himself, now- And Kikimora is trying to defend her power and sense of control, at being relied upon and needed by others, because she’s needy that way.

         As for Belos? Maybe he thinks the competition encourages ‘growth’, he sure likes pitting witches against each other, after all- Hence competition to join his coven. Maybe he’s secretly aware and is amused by it… Maybe he was actually the one who put Kikimora up to the task after all, to ‘test’ his nephew and his resolve and power! Maybe Belos and Kiki are mutually aware of their own selfish desires…

         But because they need each other for that desire, because Kikimora prefers the subtle power of being Belos’ confidant –openly being the Emperor would paint a big target on HER back- they can sort of, weirdly, trust each other… Trust the other to act in their own self-interest, which includes their own benefit;

         So while they’d gladly sell the other out for a corn chip if the opportunity came up, Belos and Kikimora know it probably won’t ever, so they’re content in their little adversarial alliance! They can count on the other to serve their self-interests, which includes one another out of necessity in the end.

         It really is nothing personal, so they don’t take it that way- Belos is using Kikimora, Kikimora is using Belos! But with the Day of Unity, with the ‘Titan’ having plans for Hunter… Well, if Hunter is already here and truly loyal, why not make use of him instead? Belos is cracking down on loose threads and preparing for a merging of worlds, there’s a pivotal moment approaching- So he should play it safe and confront the liability that is Kikimora’s self-interest.

         With the likelihood of Hunter betraying Belos and siding with the protagonists, for his own gain, or possibly being rejected by his uncle for petty reasons… Who knows? Maybe we’ll see Hunter demoted but still kept around for whatever plans that the ‘Titan’ has, and Kikimora? Depending on how things turn out, she’ll carefully watch and play her cards, for the right opportunity, and hitchhike off of whatever happens for herself!

         She might not have to do much at all, really- Belos might just get rid of Hunter for her, after all! Because Hunter might care, but he’s fettered by the morality that forms the foundation of his concern… And THAT might be the bigger liability after all, unlike Kikimora’s lack of morals. So Belos might recognize that this is playing into what she wants, but so what? She’s more useful to him anyway, and Kiki recognizes this vice-versa and goes along. It’s nothing personal in the end, so it doesn’t hurt to be well-mannered with one another in the mean time, when things are still good.

        Maybe Belos and Kikimora will even come to a mutual understanding in regards to their suspicions of Hunter… And THAT will bring back that power and special privilege of being a secret-keeper, that Kiki always wanted! Especially with her knowledge on Hunter being the one who fought her, and the possibility of his palisman being discovered. Kikimora and Hunter have their pro’s and con’s, so Belos has to figure out which is best for him in the end, and Kiki seems more aware of and involved in the competition than Hunter anyway- So points for actually trying!

        In Slavic mythology, Kikimora are house demons that can enter through keyholes. Maybe listening at keyholes or going through them plays into Kiki’s desire and ability to eavesdrop on others, unnoticed- And in a scene where she DOES eavesdrop on Belos and Hunter, the doors to his throne room have no keyholes. Which, they originally did in Agony of a Witch, which makes me wonder if Belos is wizening up to Kikimora.

        She does seem inquisitive when it comes to Lilith’s bias towards Eda, so what with catching her off guard, and Kikimora might be the kind of person who has a tendency to stick her nose in things and snoop around, much to the detriment and annoyance of others- And she resents being left out as a result. I guess it’s like King’s feelings of abandonment, except way more sinister.

[ynscrazylife]

Begging you to write a super angsty Nat x reader fix where the reader has a near death experience and has to deal with the ptsd after w Nat!!

You’ll Get Through This

Summary: After suffering a near death experience, Y/N develops PSTD symptoms and her girlfriend Natasha does her best to try and help her through it.

Trigger Warning: Being stabbed/near death

Note: I do not have PTSD. I have researched how to write characters with PTSD symptoms to write this accurately to the best of my abilities. I would never want for this to offend or hurt anyone so PLEASE let me know if my portrayal is offensive and I’ll fix or remove it.

When writing this, I did my best to accurately write symptoms of PTSD and triggers that I have researched. Here are some of the sources that I used: 1, 2, and 3.

* Thank you to @nyx-aira who nominated this fic for “Best One-Shot — Angst Fic” in The Tumbies 2021!

No one saw it coming. 

Literally. 

The Avengers were on a mission and they had been fighting some aliens. 

And one alien, apparently, had the ability to be invisible. 

One second Y/N had been fighting and the next she was letting out a bone-shattering scream as she fell, and an alien revealed themself, having stabbed her in the stomach with a sword. 

Natasha could never forget hearing her girlfriend mustering out a weak whisper over comms. Those desperate words would haunt her dreams forever.

“Guys . . . I’m down. Stabbed.” 

And then silence. She had passed out. 

Natasha lost it. She yelled. She cried. She ran as fast as she could and hissed out orders at everyone else. The fearless woman had never been so fearful. The woman who everyone thought was emotionless had never been so emotional. 

Of course anyone close to her would know that she was fearful and she did show her emotions, but they could never be prepared for this.

Days later, Y/N was stabilized. Weeks later, she was able to leave the hospital and stayed, resting, at the Avengers Tower ever since. 

Everyone was worried for her, especially Natasha. Y/N was numb to the world. She barley talked and when she did she was angry. Who or what she was angry with? No one knew. But she was angry. And normally, Y/N wasn’t angry. 

When Y/N had approached Natasha, saying that she had wanted to be in her own room rather than their shared room, Natasha respected her wishes. However, the redhead couldn’t deny that it broke her heart. All she wanted to do was help and support her girlfriend, but she also didn’t want to push her, so she let her be, let her move into her old bedroom. 

Everyone was trying and failing to think of ways to help their friend and teammate. Y/N was distancing herself from everyone and she refused to talk about what had happened. 

The Avenger was sitting in her old bedroom now, immersing herself in a book she always loved to read. However, she heard a knock on her door and it made her jump slightly. After a couple deep breaths, she quietly said, “Come in.” 

The door slowly opened and Natasha poked her head inside, offering her a warm smile in hopes of comforting her. “Hey. Do you have a minute to talk?” 

Y/N thought for a moment and nodded, putting her book aside. Natasha’s smile got a little bigger and she stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her. There was silence as she sat down on the bed next to Y/N. 

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing? If you need any support?” Natasha said softly. 

Y/N bit her lip and shook her head ‘no’, looking away. “I’m okay,” she murmured.

She missed the slight tears that welled in Natasha’s eyes before she blinked them away. “Y/N, I . . .” Black Widow hesitated before continuing. “I’ve dealt with PTSD. I know the symptoms and-” 

Y/N stood up, facing the wall and cutting her off. “I’m fine, Natasha,” she hissed. 

Natasha looked up at her, internally sighing. “I don’t want to push you. I want to be there for you if you’d like,” she started to say in a broken voice. 

Y/N turned around to face her girlfriend, enraged. For half a moment Natasha thought she was going to be yelled at and prepared herself to take it, but was surprised when something else happened. Y/N was clearly mad, but she was holding it back, and because she held it back, tears came instead. 

“I appreciate it and I know you don’t want to push me but I just can’t talk about this. I can’t think about this, Natasha. I’m trying not to think about how much it hurt and how I thought I was dying, okay? I know someone, maybe not you, but someone is gonna try and talk to me about it and I don’t want to remember it! It’s painful,” she interrupted, before letting out a noise of frustration and exhaustion, and walked out of the room, leaving Natasha speechless. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A couple days after that, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner stood around a table in Bruce’s lab. That table had the sword that Y/N had been stabbed with, scrubbed of the blood. The two men wanted to study this sword, for it was unlike everything they’ve ever seen (it was alien, after-all). They also hoped it would give them information on the aliens they fought on their mission. 

“Tony,” Bruce said, staring down at the sword. The billionaire hummed, prompting the scientist to continue. “We've gotten everything we can out of this sword - it isn’t much. If we want to know more, we’ll need to ask Y/N.” 

Tony turned to him. “Y/N? What could she tell us?” He asked, confused. 

Bruce sighed. “She was the one who was stabbed with it. She got a good look, felt the, er, sword, and was the only one who saw the alien who stabbed her. Maybe she can help us find them? Or she can give us a hint on why the alien stabbed her if a different alien was fighting her?” He reasoned. 

The two Avengers shared a look, both conveying regret and hesitation. Despite wanting and, well, needing to know more information, they were reluctant to ask Y/N, and were doubtful she’d want to tell them much of anything.

After their silent conversation, Tony made a decision. “FRIDAY, please tell Natasha to come down to Bruce’s lab if she can,” he said to the A.I. 

Two minutes later, the redheaded spy appeared. She furrowed her eyebrows seeing her teammates, wondering what they needed her for, but her eyes widened when she saw that damned sword.

“What are you doing?” She asked accusingly, crossing her arms. 

“We need to talk to Y/N about the sword. Has she been talking to you?” Bruce asked. 

Natasha frowned. She sighed and opened her mouth to tell the men of what happened the last time she and her girlfriend spoke, when a voice interrupted them.

“Hey, Bruce, can I-?” All three Avengers turned around to see Y/N, entering the lab and in the middle of asking a question. She cut herself off abruptly, getting a clear view of the sword, and stared at it momentarily.

All those memories. All those memories she had ignored. She was now being forced to remember them, as that sword was right smack in front of her. 

She stumbled back, starting to breath in short, ragged breaths, and feeling the need to get out and get out now. She had to get away, away from the sword, away from the pain, away from the memories. You’d think she had superspeed with how fast she moved, practically running from the room and looking for any safe space. Subconsciously, Y/N went to that safe space. She went to Natasha’s room, formerly both of theirs, and sat on the bed, trying to calm herself or distract herself or do anything.

As soon as Natasha had seen her girlfriend there, and saw her face transform into that of like a deer in the headlights, and saw her turn around and run, she panicked. Turning back to Iron Man and Hulk, Black Widow ordered, “Get the sword out,” and followed her girlfriend. 

She kept going until she saw Y/N enter their bedroom and followed her in after, catching the door before it shut. She then carefully shut the door herself and focussed her undivided attention on the love of her life. 

Y/N sat on their bed, hands clamped on her head. Natasha could tell she was trying to take deep breaths and calm down, but it wasn’t working. She had shut her eyes closed, tightly, and Natasha lowered herself to be in front of Y/N and at her level. 

“Y/N,” Natasha said softly, gently cupping Y/N’s face. “Follow my breathing, okay?” 

She began to take deep breaths and after a few moments, Y/N did too. They kept that going for nearly five minutes until Y/N spoke up. 

“I’m so tired, Nat, and overwhelmed,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. 

Natasha nodded. “I know, love,” she said, and then moved to sit next to Y/N on their bed. “I’m sorry about our . . . what happened the other day. You’re going to get through this, though, okay? I’ll give you my full support if you want it. Whatever you need, whatever you want, I’m here for you.” 

Natasha wrapped an arm around Y/N who leaned into her arms, nodding. “I missed you,” she said. 

The former agent smiled, resting her chin on Y/N’s head. “Me, too. We can also find a therapist if you want it, yeah?” She said, and then added. “I love you.” 

Y/N smiled a little and nodded again. “I love you, too.”

[sunlightdances]

Time Has Brought Your Heart to Me (Soulmate!AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, feat. platonic Steve, platonic Tony and a brief cameo by Agents of SHIELD. Rating/warnings: T (for language), mentions of PTSD and anxiety, a little angst. Many of our characters being adorably dense. Words: 14,418 (literally why am I like this) Summary: Bucky Barnes’ soul mark appeared on his left arm when he was seventeen years old. His injury and HYDRA took it from him, but does the mark have to physically exist for the connection to take hold? Author’s Note: Post-CA:CW. Assume Tony helped Steve and Bucky get out of Siberia and finds out the truth about his parents from Steve. AU after that. This idea literally came to me when I was shampooing my hair and I wrote a good chunk of it immediately afterwards. This idea has been done before, but I hope you like my take on it! Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky Barnes, or canon elements from the movies, tv shows, or comics. All of that belongs to Marvel. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites without my permission. Reblogs are encouraged!

When Bucky Barnes is seventeen years old, a charcoal black swirl of ivy and leaves appears on his left arm.

He spent a lot of time panicking and then trying to find his soulmate, feeling disappointed almost every time he left a date with flushed cheeks and a charming smile only to remember that they didn’t have a mark, or had one that didn’t match his.

He forgot about it as soon as the war was on - bigger things to worry about then.

He enlisted because he wanted to make something of himself, but there was always the possibility burning in his mind that he might meet them. No matter what persona he tries to put on, he’s a romantic at heart. The singing under his breath, buying flowers for pretty girls, romance paperbacks in his back pocket type.

There’s no semblance of romance in war.

His days are never ending - walking, walking, brief bursts of combat. Shouting orders at his platoon, all of them trying to pretend they were feeling more courageous than they were. Still, he spares a few thoughts for his soulmate. When he takes a bullet to his shoulder in France, he hopes they can’t feel it.

He thought that was the worst it could get. He was wrong.

When he’s half conscious in the snow after falling from the train, praying for someone, anyone, to come looking for him, he feels guilt, and regret, and then doesn’t feel anything at all.

It happens in flashes - a medical exam table, a German accent, a shock to his entire body when all he does is repeat his name, rank, and serial number.

In a brief moment of lucidity, he lifts his left hand. He tries to see the mark, one more time, tries to orient himself with the one thing that’s remained constant for almost the last ten years of his life.

It isn’t there.

His arm, gone. The leafy scrawl with it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, to no one, to someone, and then it all goes black.

.

The sun streaming in the floor-to-ceiling windows of the guest room you’ve been assigned is the first thing that wakes you, followed shortly by a disembodied voice calling your name. You have a brief moment of panic, sitting upright in bed, until you remember where you are.

Avengers Tower.

“Miss?” The kind voice inquires again.

“Sorry. Yes, I’m here, sort of,” you reply, looking-- where do you look when you’re talking to an AI?

“Captain Rogers is requesting your presence in the third floor kitchen.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in a half hour,” you reply.

“He said to tell you no matter your response that you have fifteen minutes.”

You scowl. “Awesome,” you mutter, swinging your legs over the side of the plush mattress. “Tell him I’ll get there when I get there, and he’ll just have to deal with it.”

FRIDAY is silent, but you suspect the message has been delivered. Yawning, you walk to the en suite bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. Hair? A rat’s nest. Skin? Could not look more dull. You really need to get more sleep, you think, but apparently that’s not going to start today.

Twenty minutes later, you step out of the glass elevator and into the brightly lit kitchen. There’s not many people milling about, and you discover why when you come across a clearly agitated Captain Steve Rogers at the large table, leg bouncing and chewing on the end of a pen.

“Morning,” you say when you get within earshot.

“You’re late.”

“You never told me we had an appointment,” you point out, swiping a muffin from the large plate in the middle of the table where he’s sitting, and slide into the seat across from him.

“I asked you to come here for a few days, didn’t I?” He looks up, revealing dark circles and day-old stubble. He’s got a pile of papers on the table in front of him, and a cup of half-drank coffee off to one side.

You hum in agreement, “And you’ve been very secretive about it all. Barely gave me time to pack a bag.” A wink, so he knows you’re (mostly) joking. “Not very gentlemanly, Captain.”

“Bucky’s arriving today.” He blurts, and your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Steve--” You breathe, suddenly understanding his nervousness.

“I sent Sam to get him a week ago, if he even wanted to come back to New York.” He smiles, but it’s weak. “Figured it might do some good to have someone… non-partial around.”

“This is…” You shake your head, “Wow, Steve. This is good, right?”

He exhales. “It’s-- yeah. More than good.” He meets your eyes, “I need you to give him a physical, just a regular check up. Protocol.”

You’re already nodding. “I’ll get the lab set up, although are you sure you don’t want Dr. Cho--”

“I want it to be you,” Steve explains, “You’re-- well, I think he’d like you, that’s all.” You must be blushing because he quickly backtracks. “I just mean that you’re a friend! My friend. He’ll trust you because I do.”

“Jeepers, Steve,” you tease, “Getting my heart all aflutter.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll have FRIDAY let you know when he’s settled? Don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You nod. “I get it. Just let me know.” Impulsively, you get out of your chair and hug Steve from behind, sort of wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m really happy for you.”

He squeezes your hands, a long breath leaving him like he’s been holding it for awhile. “Thank you.”

It’s hours before you’re summoned, and you feel strangely nervous. You don’t really know what to expect. Sure, as trauma-nurse turned Avengers in-house care, you obviously know who Bucky Barnes is, and what he means to Steve Rogers. You were beginning to think you’d never meet him, though.

You follow voices until you get to your “office”, which is really just an open-air lab not dissimilar to the one Dr. Banner has for himself down the hall. Yours is less tech-savvy, though. You have office hours like any other doctor, and typically don’t live at the Tower unless a mission is wrapping up, or you’re on call.

You semi-retired after everything went down with SHIELD, but had been part of Steve’s team there, so you’re sort of contracting for the Avengers whenever things are scary enough that they need a full time physician.

Turning a corner, you see the back of Steve’s head as he sits in a chair across from the imposing figure that must be James Barnes.

You clear your throat and try to make your footsteps a little louder so you don’t interrupt them, but then remember they’re both super soldiers. They definitely have already heard you coming.

Steve greets you by name and introduces you to Bucky, who surprises you with a quick smile and a handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, his voice somehow gruff and gentle all at the same time.

“You too,” you say. “Steve’s filled me in on the basics, but this is just a physical so we have your information on file. Nothing invasive, no needles, and nothing gets touched unless you say so, okay?”

He looks like he wants to smirk at your wording, but you can tell he’s a little tense and nervous too. You’ve thought about what to say to him and how to do this exam. You know he’s spent most of his life doing things without his consent, including receiving whatever poor medical care he was given.

“Whatever you say,” he agrees, and hops up on the exam table when you ask him to.

The entire exam only takes about ten minutes, until the only thing you have left to ask about is the arm. You sneak a glance at Steve, who’s chewing on his bottom lip. He gives you a small nod, so you take a deep breath and turn back to Bucky.

“I have to ask you a few questions about this.” You tell him, gesturing towards his left arm.

He flinches, barely noticeable if you weren’t standing right in front of him. “What do you want to know?” He leans in, voice conspiratorial, and whispers, “This isn’t my real arm.”

You’re momentarily stunned, but a breathless laugh escapes. Okay. Maybe this isn’t going to be as awful as you worried it might be, for him or for you.

.

Later, you’re in the kitchen with Steve and Sam, a glass of wine in front of each of you as you pick at your dinner. The rest of the Avengers are on a small mission, Falcon and Cap staying behind to look after the newest member of their team.

They don’t say it, but they’re worried.

“Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY interrupts, “Sergeant Barnes is experiencing some distress.”

The three of you stand, but Steve waves you off. “It’s a nightmare,” he says. “I’ll take care of it.” He takes a few steps and stops, not turning around. “FRIDAY will let you know if I need help.”

Sam’s face is tight with worry when he sits back down with you.

“What’s your take on this, Sam?” You ask, “Really. Honest assessment.”

“I think he needs help,” Sam says, and for a second you’re not sure if he means Steve, or Bucky. “He’s been through a lot. He’s a lot better physically, and some mentally, too. But there’s still-- it’s PTSD. He’s been a combat soldier for 70 years of his life, a POW. You can’t recover from that in a few months or even a few years.”

“I’ll try to help if I can,” you reassure him. “If he’ll let me.”

Sam stands up to leave, probably to check on Steve. He squeezes your shoulder as he walks behind you. “I know you will. Thanks, kid.”

You don’t respond, not even to dispute him acting like he’s so much older than you. Your brain is too busy trying to figure out what to do next.

.

The next few weeks go by in a similar fashion. You take up semi-permanent residence at the Tower.

Bucky sticks to his room a lot, though you see him sparring with Steve or hanging out with Sam in the common room a few times.

He doesn’t seek you out, and you don’t bother him except for subtly asking FRIDAY to let you know if he’s experiencing any distress that requires medical attention.

Now, you’re in the kitchen with Steve, eating at the large island and watching him warily. “Steve. You’re pacing.”

“I know I’m pacing.”

You set your fork down. “Why are you pacing?”

“I’m taking Bucky to Brooklyn today.”

You blink, eyes wide. “Whoa. That’s-- wow, that’s great! Was it your idea, or--”

“It was his, actually.” Steve stops pacing long enough to meet your eyes. “I’m a little worried it might be too much once we get there. Once he sees how much has changed…” He trails off. “I remember when I first went back. It was too much all at once.”

“Can I offer you some non-professional advice? As a friend?”

Steve still looks wary, but he nods.

“You gotta have a little faith in him, Steve. He’s been through a lot, yes. You’re still learning who he is right now. But he was in Wakanda for a year. Recovering only half of that time. He’s had time to catch up, to figure out how to be a person with agency. If he says he wants to do this, he probably does. You have to trust him.”

A movement from the doorway catches your attention and you flush when you see Bucky come into the kitchen slowly, looking a little sheepish. Damn these supersoldiers and their stealth. “Uh-- sorry to interrupt. Bad time?”

Steve smiles, though it’s a little shaky. “No, just talking to Doc here about coming with us to Brooklyn today.”

Your eyes widen as you whip around to face Steve, who sends you a pleading look quickly before Bucky sees him.

“Oh.” Bucky looks a little disappointed, but you don’t take it personally.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you say, “I know you had plans with Steve,”

Bucky waves a hand, “No, it’s fine, really. Could probably use someone around to make sure we don’t kill each other.”

You and Steve both freeze, and Bucky looks back and forth between you. “That was a joke.”

You’re the first to smile, and you’re doing it mostly for Bucky’s benefit, but also in hopes that Steve will relax a little bit. You know it’s not healthy for him to be this worried all the time. You also know that Bucky will never truly be at ease if Steve doesn’t start treating him like his friend again.

“I guess if I’m going to get a tour, I couldn’t ask for better guides,” you say, heading out to grab a jacket and your wallet.

A half hour later, you’re getting off the subway and heading into one of Brooklyn’s old neighborhoods. Bucky appears outwardly calm, but you could see how tense he was when you were on the train, and the way his eyes darted around cooly, mapping out all the entrances and exits. It’s the same thing you see Sam and Steve do, maybe more subtly, when you go out with them.

They all do it, really. The Avengers are battle weary already, and you wish you could give that sense of calm back to them.

“I’m going to grab a coffee,” you tell Steve and Bucky as you mill about on the street. You get the idea that neither of them has thought this through very much - they don’t really know where to go first. “Do you want anything?”

“Two black coffees. Is that okay?” Steve says, looking at Bucky.

“Add a little sugar to Steve’s. He won’t complain but he’ll make a face every time he takes a drink.” Bucky says, and you snort.

“Good to know.”

Five minutes later, you’re interrupting what looks like a serious conversation between the two men with a cautious smile, and with Steve scrambling to grab the coffee carrier out of your hands before you have to juggle three cups.

“Where to?” You ask once they’re both happily sipping hot coffee, Bucky only looking mildly uncomfortable.

“I don’t really know,” Bucky admits. “Guessing our old building isn’t there anymore?”

Steve smiles. “It is, actually. We can go there first if you want.”

You follow behind them on the sidewalk as they reminisce about places they used to go, people they used to know. It’s not sad, more nostalgic, and you’re content to listen to them talk as you sip your coffee.

Bucky shoves Steve lightly as he starts to point out all the places he used to get beat up. “That alley,” Steve points, “and behind that butcher shop--”

“I think she gets it.”

You laugh, “Tony should make landmark signs. We can put them in all your favorite places,” you tease, and Steve glares.

“You’re hilarious.”

You pull on his arm when Bucky suddenly stops right in front of him, keeping Steve from plowing straight into his friend’s back. You feel the mood shift and know this must be the place.

Bucky rubs at his jaw thoughtfully. “Huh. Smaller than I remember.” His voice is a little less confident than it was this morning. You stare at the building with him, trying to picture what it might have looked like decades ago. “This place was a shithole when we lived here--”

“Bucky!” Steve exclaims, but he’s laughing too, turning to face his friend almost for the first time all day. You’re giggling too, and Bucky shakes his head, his smile a little smaller, but still there.

“What? We were poor.” He shuffles his feet a little. “I loved it here. No better place than that apartment.” He inhales sharply before meeting Steve’s gaze, “Wait, no one-- we don’t know anyone who still--”

“No,” Steve says quietly, carefully. “No one we know still lives here. I checked when I first got out of the ice.”

Bucky nods. “I don’t-- I don’t want to know about them yet. Any of them.”

You assume he’s talking about his family, and whoever might still be alive. You feel like you’re intruding on a private conversation, so you busy yourself taking a few photos for your Instagram -- you’re not too shy to admit that this neighborhood is lovely. Old brick buildings and shops with lots of flowers blooming.

(And if you sneak a photo that has the back of Bucky and Steve standing there, shoulder to shoulder… well that’s nobody’s business)

In hindsight, you and Steve should have seen this night coming. The memories prove to be too much for Bucky, and the entire floor nearly shakes over your head when he has an episode in the middle of the night, spurred by nightmares and twisted memories of his family.

Footsteps speed by your doorway and you hear FRIDAY asking you to stay in your room, but you don’t listen. You’re too worried, despite the racing of your heart telling you that this is a bad idea.

You open the door just in time to see Steve sprinting down the hall towards the stairs. He must hear your door (or your heart, you think idly), because he turns to you. An authoritative, “No,” is all you get from him before he’s gone, apparently taking the stairs four at a time.

Not content to be left on the sidelines, you head downstairs to the lab, pausing just long enough to throw your hair into a bun and slip your glasses on, grabbing a sweatshirt off a hook by your door. You have no idea if you’ll be seeing Bucky tonight, but you want to be prepared just in case, even though you think Bruce and Dr. Cho are going to take the lead on his care while he’s here.

Forty-five minutes go by before you hear footsteps, and Steve and Bucky come trudging in. Steve has a black eye, and Bucky seems content to stare at his own feet.

“Steve--” You’re about to ask him to let you look at the bruising, but he holds up a hand to stop you. You’re suddenly filled with dread, wondering if Bucky is wholly himself, but you find it hard to believe Steve would have brought him down here at all if he wasn’t.

“I’m fine.” He smiles at you weakly, “Can you…” He trails off, looking at his best friend.

“I need something to help me sleep.” Bucky finishes, voice rough. “Preferably without dreams.”

You pause, “I can’t guarantee anything,” you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile, “But I can try.”

“Thanks.” Steve sounds exhausted, but Bucky looks worse.

“Can I have a minute alone?” You ask Bucky, but the question is really for Steve. Bucky tenses, and you rush to clarify, “Just want to chat about how we can help you get better sleep. Figured you might be more comfortable without an audience, but Steve can stay if you want him to.”

The two men have a silent conversation before Steve nods, reaching for your hand to give it a squeeze before he leaves you and Bucky alone.

It’s a few minutes before Bucky relaxes enough to talk. You busy yourself taking his vitals even though you know you could just ask FRIDAY to give you the rundown. It gives you something manual to do, so you don’t have to just stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

You look up in surprise. “Me? No, I-- you--”

“I know it-- I woke you up.”

You shake your head. “I was awake anyway.”

Bucky cocks his head in question, so you keep talking.

“I have a hard time sleeping. Did Steve tell you much about me? What I did-- before?”

“He said you’re a nurse.”

You nod. “I was a trauma nurse at a hospital nearby. That’s how Steve and I met.” You hesitate before the next part, but you feel like he’ll handle it okay. “I was working the day SHIELD fell. When he was brought in, I was in the ER.”

Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see the guilt swimming there.

You smile, “Turns out a nurse isn’t super necessary for a super soldier.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I suppose not.”

“My job mostly turned into babysitting. He kept trying to leave before he was fully healed, and we really had no idea how long he was going to be there. None of the rules applied to him, and he was way more focused on getting out to look for you.”

Bucky looks down, gunmetal hand whirring slightly as he fiddles with it. “Sounds like Steve.”

“Anyway, after I managed to put up with Steve and Sam for a whole two weeks,” you wink at Bucky, “Steve offered me a job. Thought they could use a medic around. I’d been wanting to get out of the hospital anyway. Some days were… hard.” You try your best not to let the memories get the better of you. “Turns out Bruce is a great doctor but not when he’s-- the other guy.”

Bucky nods, seemingly finding his resolve. He takes a deep breath, “I thought I could handle today. I felt good when we were there. Like I could almost forget--” he waves his hand around vaguely. “You know.”

You nod slowly. “In my experience, recovery isn’t always a straight line.”

Bucky is quiet, but you take that as a signal to keep going.

“I definitely still have days where I can’t see the lights of an ambulance without my heart rate speeding up. I have nightmares, and sometimes when the team is gone on a mission, I’m so anxious thinking about what’s happening to them I can barely breathe.” You force yourself to keep talking, “And then there’s some days where I’m calm. I can handle it, and I feel fine.”

You look up at him so you can look directly into his eyes. He’s already looking at you, and for a second, you feel a zip of awareness hit you in your gut.

“I’ve got something for you. It’ll help you sleep, but it’s really strong.” Quieter, you add, “Don’t tell Steve, but Bruce and Tony developed this for him years ago. He won’t ever admit to having nights like you’ve had. This seemed to help him.” You reach over on the table for a pill bottle and press it into Bucky’s palm. “Read the directions. Don’t take more than one.”

“Yes ma’am.” He murmurs. “Thank you.”

After a brief awkward moment, he leaves the room, and you can hear his quiet footsteps down the hall until the ding of the elevator signals him going back upstairs.

A few moments later, Steve is in your line of vision, and he doesn’t say anything, just gives you this look and it completely breaks your heart.

Wordlessly, you hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers, and he takes it willingly, threading your fingers together. Pulling him close, you stand shoulder to shoulder with the super soldier, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you both pull your thoughts together.

“I knew this was going to be hard,” he says, voice low. “I just didn’t-- I hate seeing him in pain and not being able to do anything about it.”

“I know, Steve.” You don’t have any answers, so you don’t try to give him one. “You need to try to rest.” You tell him instead.

“So do you,” he replies stubbornly.

“One day at a time, Steve.” You remind him.

“Yeah.” He sighs, wiping his free hand over his face. “Yeah, I know.”

When you get to your bedroom that night, you’re exhausted. It’s quiet above you, and you keep replaying the night’s events over and over.

Out of everything, one moment stands out to you - that potent moment of eye contact with Bucky Barnes. You can still feel the electricity crackling through you as you remember it.

That can’t be good.

.

“Any time, Cap,” Tony’s voice, out of breath, comes through the comms. You’re watching anxiously from your lab in the Tower, wondering again how you got roped into this.

“I’m busy,” Steve replies haughtily, and you hear the sound of two bodies hitting the floor. “On my way.”

The sound of fighting rings out, and you try to subtly eye the man next to you, his posture similar to yours - arms crossed, brow furrowed.

“Do they always argue this much on a mission?” Bucky wonders aloud, and you snort.

“I’ve only been involved in a few, but in my experience: yes.”

The mission is otherwise pretty smooth - Steve and Tony are more than capable of handling a few rogue Hydra thugs on their own, and you’re relieved when Tony lets you know over the comms that they’re headed back, objective complete.

You glance at Bucky next to you, who still stares at the screens.

“This must be a little overwhelming…” you start, not really sure how much you should press.

He shrugs. “Just different. The last time I planned any type of mission I was in olive drab and all I ever had to do was say yes, sir.”

You’re still surprised with how candid he’s being, willingly offering up details about his past, those he can remember, at least.

“Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers have docked.” FRIDAY’s voice interrupts your musing, and you nod at Bucky, who leaves the room to go meet them. He brushes past you, and you feel another zip of awareness when he does, shaking your head to get rid of the feeling.

He’s your patient. You absolutely cannot, will not allow yourself to feel anything other than a clinical attraction to the man. He deserves better than that, and you can’t afford to be distracted, not when he needs your help and is depending on you to get better.

Just earlier that day, you sat down with Steve and Tony for a quick briefing to better plan for the days ahead in terms of Bucky’s recovery and his place with the team.

Steve is tense, rightly so, and Tony is firm, arms crossed over his chest, eyes dark as he looks at the files in front of the three of you.

“You’re saying there’s no way to know if the trigger words are actually deactivated.” Tony asks, though it’s not really phrased as a question.

“I’m saying there might be other triggers. Not just the words, though Shuri insists those are moot. He’s got PTSD, Tony.”

“Yeah, well. Join the club.” Tony mutters, looking out the window. You can’t imagine how difficult this is for him. You know as well as everyone else does that Barnes was responsible for the Starks’ deaths. You’re surprised Tony okayed Bucky’s arrival here at all, though he does have a heart. He knows Bucky was brainwashed, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Steve doesn’t say anything. You get the idea he’s worried to say the wrong thing -- he admitted to you once that he’s obviously biased where Bucky’s concerned. He doesn’t know how to be Bucky’s ally and Tony’s friend at the same time.

“All this is, is a plan for if the worst happens.” You hold up your hand quickly, stopping Steve before he responds, “I’m not saying we’ll ever have to use this, but we have evacuation plans for everything else, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be prepared for him to relapse. Even if the Soldier is out of his head, there’s still a chance his memories will get the best of him and he’ll have an episode.” You say the last part quietly, meeting Steve’s concerned gaze.

“We don’t even know if he’s going to want to have anything to do with the Avengers,” he acknowledges. “After all this time… for all I know he wants to lay low.”

Tony nods. “If he does… we won’t have him on any field missions until we’re sure he can handle it. Until then he stays here, helps Hill with the comms and he can…” Tony gestures wildly, “I don’t know, be strategic backup or something.”

That option had proved to be more than okay with Bucky, though he acknowledged he didn’t really have any say in the matter. He just wanted to be useful.

In the weeks that follow, he fills in for Maria Hill when she’s called away for other Stark Industries work, and takes to running the team like he was born to do it.

“It’s the squad leader in me,” he tells you one day, a grin on his face. “Though the lot of you are a lot easier to deal with than Army brats.”

He even helps Steve train some new recruits when the opportunity presents itself. Overall, his recovery is on track to be even shorter than you expected. Sure, there are still moments where he loses himself in a memory or has to be shaken awake in the middle of the night when things get to be too much. But you know every single other person in the Tower struggles that way too.

You’re mostly enjoying getting to know James Barnes the person, and not The Winter Soldier, the enigma, even if it is getting harder and harder to ignore the butterflies that take flight in your stomach every time he enters a room you’re in.

You’re killing time in the lab when Tony saunters in, startling you with his Iron Man gear half-on.

“What are you doing?”

“Need a hand,” he says, drawing out the word as he waves at you, thruster firmly in place on his left hand.

“Terrible.” You mutter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just miscalculated the power of the new thruster and sort of… fused it to my hand.” He says the last part quickly, and you blink at him.

“I’m sorry. I heard that wrong.”

He grins cheerily. “Nothing wrong with your ears! Now--” He claps his hands together with a metallic clang, “-- You got anything for burns?”

Bucky wanders in sometime after you’ve finally gotten Tony to sit down. He watches warily, stopping before entering the room completely, a little curious. “Don’t mean to interrupt,” he says quietly, “but what the fuck is going on?”

Even Tony smiles at that, Bucky’s blunt tone a sure sign he’s had a decent day, as far as moods go. “Experimentation gone wrong,” he says brightly. “Doc’ll get me sorted.”

You glare at him. “I’m not a surgeon. Stop giving me surgeons’ work to do.”

You’re gently trying to pull the round piece of metal from Tony’s palm without completely frying his nerves. Coincidentally, the entire thing is destroying your own nerves in the process.

“Need a hand?” Bucky asks, pulling up a stool.

Tony snorts. “That’s what I said.”

You’re very aware of the heat emanating from Bucky’s side as he watches you work. Normally you wouldn’t let someone this close while you’re essentially performing surgery, but you think idly that it might be a good idea to have a third party here in case Tony starts complaining that you’re trying to butcher him.

“What I need--” you say through grit teeth, “-- is for both of you to shut up and let me work.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky says with a smile.

Tony raises his eyebrows in delight at the exchange, but you ignore him.

“Hold still,” you murmur after a few minutes, and when you glance up, relieved that there’s quiet finally, you see a few beads of sweat on Tony’s brow. He’s frowning at his own hand, and you think he’s finally starting to grasp how serious this could have been. “Honestly--” You huff, “Now you’re getting squeamish?”

“I didn’t think about the part where you’d actually have to yank it off,” Tony says defensively.

“I’ve got as much of the metal out as I can, so hopefully I can just…” you mime ripping it off with your free hand.

His eyes widen. “No you will not.”

Bucky sits back, arms folded across his chest with an amused grin at the billionaire.

“There’s nothing for it, Tony. Like a bandaid.”

“Can’t be worse than when I had to give myself stitches in the middle of the woods in Belgium with some dental floss,” Bucky says off-handedly, and both you and Tony stare at him, mouths agape.

“This is the twenty-first century!” Tony protests, gritting his teeth, “This isn’t the fucking Battle of the Bulge, Grandpa!”

“And, three.” You say with finality, lifting the remnants of the Iron glove off Tony’s palm, having used his outrage at Bucky’s bad attempt at bedside manner as a distraction to do the hard part. “Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.” You say primly as he hands you a piece of gauze that had been waiting nearby.

“Devious.” Tony remarks as you wrap his palm. “What’s the damage?”

“You need to keep it clean or it’ll get infected. No more experimenting.”

You let Tony go with the promise - or threat - to tell Pepper about this, and then it’s just you and Bucky there as you clean up.

“Does that happen often?”

You glance over your shoulder at him, “More often than I’d like. He thinks he’s invincible.”

The corners of Bucky’s mouth tilt up. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

You’re momentarily fascinated by how much younger he looks when he smiles, but you force yourself to look away and go back to cleaning up the tray you had supplies on. “Did you need anything?” You ask, remembering how he wandered in on his own nearly an hour ago.

He flushes, scratching the back of his neck. “Just some company.” He admits.

It sends a thrill through you.

“It’s nice to talk to someone who has no idea who I am. Or who I’m supposed to be.” He says, the last part barely a whisper.

You feel so much for him at this moment. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and still, the man manages to crack jokes whenever he can, and is, on the outside, not completely overwhelmed with being in a new place, finally in his own head.

“I think I’ll head back to bed.” He says, a small smile on his face. “This was… interesting.” He grins. On his way past you to the door, he reaches out briefly and squeezes your free hand. You think he might not even realize he’s done it.

You almost drop the tools in your hand when you realize what’s happened -- the mark on your arm, the one you try so diligently to cover up, is burning.

“Oh, shit.” You murmur to yourself.

.

You avoid Bucky for weeks after that. You see him in a strictly professional capacity, and you feel like the biggest bitch on the planet for it, but you have no idea what to do with yourself.

After he left you in the lab that night, you inspected your well-hidden mark, trying to figure out why it was suddenly coming to life after years. It was a dull pink color, like you’d been rubbing at it, and even though you refused to accept it, you knew deep down what that meant.

You have no one to ask about it. No one at all.

Soul marks are rare, and they’re rarer still among the bunch you live with. Steve doesn’t have a mark, nor does Sam. You don’t feel like putting up with the shit you’ll get from Tony or Pepper if you try to ask them about theirs.

You’ve read enough about the bond to recognize it for what it is, but your brain is still stuck on one fact - Bucky Barnes doesn’t have a mark. Not that you’ve seen, and not that he’s mentioned.

It occurs to you then that the worst case could be true - you could be his, but he might not be yours. What a nightmare. As if he doesn’t have enough to deal with after quite literally coming back to life. Throwing an unreciprocated soulmate into the mix? No. You won’t do it.

So you avoid him.

You even go out of your way to liaison with the new SHIELD for two weeks, as part of a new partnership Steve and Tony were reluctantly part of with the recently-still-alive Phil Coulson.

“Are you sure you want to go? They have a doctor.” Steve asks as he carries your duffel to the dock as you await the arrival of SHIELD’s quinjet.

“They have a scientist,” you remind him. “They wouldn’t have asked for help if they really didn’t need it.”

Steve scowls, still a little perturbed that a man he considered a friend couldn’t even let them know he was alive, let alone that he was resurrecting SHIELD.

“We need to know what they’re working on, anyway.” You say. “Plus, it’s good networking.”

Steve shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. Still. What if--” He stops himself, looking away as you reach the hangar. “What if we need you?”

“Then you’ll call, and I’ll have them fly me back.”

You hear what he’s really asking - what if Bucky needs you? You considered it. But you think you need the distance more than being around and avoiding him. He hasn’t needed you in any urgent way in weeks, anyway.

“Fine. But make sure Coulson knows he’s still on my shit list.”

“Steve Rogers!” You gasp. “He’ll be broken-hearted to hear that.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but you’re interrupted by incoming engines, and watch as the quinjet flies smoothly into the hangar.

You’re surprised at how young the team is. Not much younger than you, sure, but still. They’re watching Steve with something like awe in their eyes.

“Captain Rogers.” Coulson says, descending the ramp and holding out his hand tentatively. “It’s good to see you.” He’s sincere, that much is obvious.

“Coulson.” Steve’s tone is curt, but he shakes the man’s hand anyway.

After an awkward pause, Steve turns to you, introducing you.

“This is Agent May, Fitz, Simmons, and Daisy.” Coulson says, and you smile at each member in turn. “We’re looking forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” You grin at him. It seems impossible to be anything less than genial with Phil Coulson, though Steve is doing his best to prove otherwise, and Tony hasn’t even bothered to leave his office to greet the new arrivals.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece.” Phil tells Steve.

“The alternative isn’t an option.” Steve replies, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, that’s enough. Bye, Steve. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

His expression softens, and you know he’s just being protective in that big-brotherly way of his.

As you’re boarding the jet, you see movement out of the corner of your eye, and see Bucky back in the shadows, leaning against the wall as he watches you leave. You bite your lip in frustration, knowing that leaving after ignoring him is a cowardly move. Still, it’s the only option you can think of while you try to sort this out.

After taking off, Phil turns to you.

“He hates me, doesn’t he.” There’s something like despair in his voice.

You sigh. “They thought you were dead.”

“Technically I was.”

He fills you in on the whole story as you fly to their base, and when you land, you take the first minute you can to get Jemma Simmons alone.

“I was hoping you could tell me more about soul marks. I know you’ve done some research--”

She smiles at you, putting you at ease. “What questions do you have?”

.

Bucky watches the jet take off, a hollow feeling in his chest. He can’t figure out what he did to drive you away so thoroughly.

Steve stands there with his arms crossed for a few minutes before turning back, shaking his head.

“You trust them?” Bucky asks, and Steve pauses.

“I do.” He sighs, then looks at his friend. “Are you worried?”

Bucky scoffs. “Am I worried that she ignored me for two weeks and then fucked off with a bunch of people I don’t know?”

Steve’s grin is slow, lazy. “Careful, Buck. Sounding awfully protective.”

Bucky scowls. “Shut up.”

One thing that has absolutely not changed since the 40s is Steve’s propensity to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, and lately that’s been evident in the way he’s been trying to needle out what exactly Bucky is feeling for the good doctor.

He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling.

She’s-- smart. She’s smart and she’s funny, and she’s beautiful, but it’s not like he would ever act on it. She’s his doctor. Probably the closest thing to a best friend Steve has. Bucky’s not going to fuck that up just because he’s noticed that she smells like vanilla and when the sun hits her face just right-- well. He’s not going to fuck it up.

Besides, he clearly made her uncomfortable when he told her it was nice to be around her. That she understood him, in some way that Steve didn’t. That clearly freaked her out.

He would laugh if it wasn’t happening to him. Scared a woman away so thoroughly that she literally got on a jet and took off.

He sighs and follows Steve back to the common area where a few of the others are lingering. They want a report on SHIELD, no doubt.

Bucky is going to do some digging of his own. SHIELD, for obvious reasons, has left the taste of ash in his mouth, and he’ll never forgive himself if it turns out that they’re some kind of HYDRA cell using a familiar face to get close to the Avengers again.

Not to mention his favorite doctor would be caught in the middle of it, and he can’t have that.

He feels… he feels good. It’s unfamiliar. But really, minor episodes and nightmares aside, he feels more like himself than he has in decades. There were brief moments when he was lucid enough in Hydra to remember who he was and where he was, but he thinks being brainwashed was… not a blessing, he’s not stupid enough to consider it that, but the alternative… having to be himself while he did those things… it would have killed him.

Now, he finally has choices.

His first choice was deciding to accept Steve’s help and friendship, and his second choice was to trust you.

He thinks that should mean something.

He thinks back to a moment from a few weeks back, shortly after the Brooklyn trip. You didn’t treat him like he was broken, and he appreciated it more than he could say. So much so that he invited you back to Brooklyn with him, to one of his favorite diners from when he was growing up.

He’s so happy to see it still exists that he can’t wait to have a meal there. Steve is busy, and you just-- the way you smile at him when he asks you to go, he knows he’s made the right call.

“James Barnes?” The older woman at the counter looks like she’s seen a ghost.

“That’s me,” he says, trying to smile. He has no idea how people are going to react to him wherever he goes.

“I’ll be damned,” she whispers. “My grandmother… she used to tell me stories about you and Captain Rogers.”

He smiles. “Good ones, I hope?”

“Only good ones. My grandmother was Ruth Kelley.”

The name fires some synapse in Bucky’s brain that hasn’t been used in years. Suddenly he’s nineteen, sharing a malt with Ruthie at the counter while she was on her lunch break, trying to pretend he’s not pulling out all the stops to make her laugh.

“You look just like her,” he stutters, and she does - the same eyes, the same kind smile.

“Thank you.” She whispers. “Anything you want, on the house today.”

Bucky tries to protest, but you stop him.

“Let her do this for you,” you say quietly.

Bucky nods and the two of you sit in a booth, his mind still working overtime trying to believe that all the pieces of his life could come full circle like this.

“An old flame?” You ask, lifting a mug of coffee to your lips, and Bucky finds himself entranced by the playful look on your face.

“Something like that.” He murmurs. “She grew up in the same building as Steve and I. Used to come bother her while she worked. That family was the best. They’d give us free slices of pie every so often…” He trails off. “Never saw her again before I shipped out.”

You’re quiet, a look on your face he can’t identify. “You must have meant a lot to her. If she told her granddaughter about you.”

He turns to watch Ruth’s granddaughter busy herself behind the counter, her movements so similar to Ruth’s that for a horrible moment, he thinks he might cry too.

On the way back to the Tower, you loop your arm through his, so casually, the touch coming so easy for you, it throws Bucky for a loop. It’s not unwelcome - you’re warm through your jacket, and Bucky hasn’t realized how much he missed human contact until this moment.

He thinks it should be concerning, how quickly you’re inserting yourself in his life. He tells himself it’s purely professional, but he knows it’s a lie.

The annoyingly knowing looks he’s been getting from Steve and Sam seem to suggest that too, not to mention the not-so-subtle threatening from Tony.

He’s drawn to you, and it scares him a little, while at the same time it feels like it’s just… right. He tried to surreptitiously get a look at your left arm the first time he thought… but to no avail. He hadn’t seen a mark. Certainly not one like he remembers, not one that he hoped to see, as fleeting as the thought had been at the time. But he told himself it didn’t matter. His own parents weren’t soulmates, but they loved each other.

Peggy and Steve didn’t have marks either, but they loved each other til the end. It doesn’t matter. Although, truth be told, it won’t matter at all if you stop talking to him completely.

Trying to get his mind off you, he seeks out his friends, finding them in the common area. No sooner has he made himself comfortable on the couch next to Sam then there’s an alarm blaring somewhere, and all his senses fire to life.

Steve is on his feet immediately, as is Tony, tapping away at his tablet as he tries to figure out what’s wrong.

“Steve?” Sam asks, body rigid.

“Suit up,” Steve says immediately. “Tony and I will do threat assessment.”

“Already done,” Tony chirps. “Fun - intruders!”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he’s already moving, striding towards the doors to the command center and sliding a headset on his head - he feels more at home here than he thought he would.

“Check in when you’ve got comms,” he says distractedly, tapping away at the screen in front of him until he pulls up a couple cameras of the lower floors.

He spares a thought to be grateful that you’re not here right now, as he watches a team of men in black bust through the doors to the lab. “Lower two floors. I count eight, maybe ten operatives.”

“On it,” Steve says in his ear, and Bucky watches as his friend skips the elevator and instead launches himself down over the railing.

“Idiot.” He mutters.

“I can hear you.”

He smirks. “Tony, there’s a few more on the outside trying to get in,” he confirms, hearing the now-familiar sound of thrusters as Tony takes off from the launchpad outside the penthouse.

“More company incoming,” Tony replies, and Bucky can hear the sound of an engine through the comms.

Gunfire suddenly erupts almost directly outside the room Bucky’s in, the reinforced glass holding, but Bucky still throws his metal arm above his head and ducks out of instinct.

He knows this is Hydra. This was bound to happen, with Bucky living here. The Asset would never be allowed to live with everything he knows.

Bucky grimaces. “I’m going to need to get to the armory.”

Sam’s voice is next, “Negative, big guy. You’re going to stay right where you are, or else no one else has eyes on us.”

“Seconded.” Steve says firmly.

“I’m kind of a sitting duck up here.” Bucky protests. “This is seventy years of sniper training going to waste,” he adds, and Steve audibly sighs in his ear.

“Take an MG, that’s it.” He says, and Bucky snorts.

“You think I’d try to grab an alien gun? I’m not as stupid as you remember.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply as he heads out the door, eyes scanning this way and that for any potential threats. He hears the fight going on a few floors below, but so far he’s in the clear, and he heads towards the hangar where he can slip in a back entrance to the armory (hopefully) undetected.

“Two headed to you, Buck.” Steve says, sounding out of breath.

“Copy that.” Bucky says, steeling himself for the inevitable fight. He lets himself feel exhausted for approximately one second before he gets to work - his training taking over like he’s on autopilot.

He makes it to the armory door before he’s jumped from behind, though he heard them coming. He knows he can’t let them get inside. He uses their momentum to propel himself forward, flinging one man off his back and sending him careening into the opposite wall.

His other hand rears back out of instinct, delivering a sickening blow to the second man’s face.

Warily, he watches the first man struggle to his feet, a sneer on his face. “Longing.” He says, and Bucky sees red, though not for the reason he suspects the man hopes. “Rusted.”

Bucky pulls back with his metal arm, and delivers one solid punch. “Eat shit.”

Steve comes skidding around the corner a moment or two later, watching the scene in front of him. He clearly heard what the man was trying to do over comms - his face is a mixture of terror and concern.

“Bucky?”

“It’s still me, Steve.”

“Just checking.” He steps over the two men on the floor. “Didn’t need the MG after all?”

“Didn’t make it that far.” Bucky reaches down, straightening the man’s jacket so he can see the insignia for himself. He sighs. “Not going for stealth these days.”

“They’re done fighting in the shadows, or whatever.” Steve replies with a roll of his eyes. “We’ll get them all to lockup - Tony’s got the rest on the roof.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is going to keep happening. As long as I’m here. You know that, right?”

Steve’s face hardens. “Then we’ll keep fighting them. They’re not going to take you again.” The fierceness in his voice makes Bucky want to weep. This is the Steve he remembers.

He helps get the Hydra agents rounded up with the rest of the team, and then retreats to his bedroom. He feels exhausted, even though he didn’t have to do much - even the fight itself wasn’t as awful as it could have been.

He’s just tired of being hunted. He just wants to-- he doesn’t know, really. Be free? It sounds so trite. But he’s got a chance at a better life now, and he’s not going to let anyone take that away from him. Not Hydra, not whoever they decide to send after him next.

That night he has another nightmare, but this time, it’s about you. The look on your face after you see him in action - it sends you even further away from him, and Bucky knows he’ll never get you back, not after this. Not after you’ve seen the Soldier.

When he startles awake, the shame burning in his chest is a living, breathing thing.

He realizes then what you mean to him, or what you could if given the chance.

It doesn’t scare him as much as it should.

.

Jemma Simmons is infinitely patient as she explains the research about soul marks to you. It helps that she has a soulmate of her own, one who has a reciprocating mark.

It doesn’t do a thing to quell your guilt about Bucky, though. You still feel like you’d be trapping him into something. He’s never had much of a choice about anything in his life before, and you don’t want to take this away from him, too.

Trying to distract yourself, you throw yourself into research and analysis with Fitz and Simmons. In the few days you’ve been with SHIELD, you’ve helped them learn more about Daisy’s power and biology, your experience working with Avengers helpful as they try to catalog what she can do and what her limits are.

You plan to head back to Avengers Tower by the end of the week, and head to bed that night feeling like the time away from everything was just what you needed, even if you do have two letters to Steve from Phil in your bag that you’re almost certainly not going to give him.

The man is desperate for his apology to be accepted by his hero.

You’re asleep nearly the minute your head hits the pillow.

Annoyingly, you dream of Bucky. It’s not the dream you’ve had before - holding hands at the diner, or making some grand declaration. This is… darker. More real. It scares you.

Someone is hauling Bucky out of the Tower, and Bucky is nearly incapacitated. Drugged or… worse. You feel a shudder run through you as you watch him smuggled out in the dead of night, knowing there’s nothing you can do to help.

You wake with a gasp, and when you pull up your left sleeve, the mark on your arm is an angry red.

Panic slides through you like ice in your veins, and you’re reaching for your phone before you can begin to make sense of anything.

“Hey. It’s the middle of the night.”

“I need you to check on Bucky.” You tell Steve, your tone urgent.

“What?”

“Just do it, Steve.”

“What’s going on?”

“Steve.”

You hear movement on his end, and listen intently as he leaves his apartment and heads across the hall. “It’s been quiet all night,” he assures you. “We had a run-in today, but other than that…” He trails off, and that’s what sets your heart pounding. “FRIDAY, what time did Bucky leave his apartment?” Steve asks the AI, and you feel your heart plummet.

You don’t hear her reply.

“Steve, listen to me. I think he’s been taken.”

“How the hell did you--”

“I can’t explain it. I need you to come get me. I don’t want to worry anyone here, but I can help.”

“I’ll be wheels up in ten.”

A click, and then the line goes dead.

It feels like hours before you hear a knock on the door in the base, and Phil Coulson is there, looking as worried as you are, though you’re sure he’s picking up on the anxiety coming from Steve, and from having an Avenger in his secret base.

“Steve!”

“He’s gone.” Steve says rapidly, “We had a… brief infiltration today--”

“A what?!”

“Don’t worry about it now. Point is - I think they were a distraction. They needed to figure out how to get in and how to get to Bucky.”

“I can find him.” You grab your bag, trying to push past him and Coulson both to get to the door.

“Wait a minute, slow down, how did you even know he was gone? I don’t understand.”

“We don’t have time for this right now, Steve. Who knows what they’ve done to him or are planning to do.”

“Hey.” Steve’s voice is sharp, drawing you back into focus. “I need you to slow down. Explain this to me like I’m an idiot.”

You glare, but force your breathing to slow. “Something’s wrong. I just-- I can feel it, Steve.”

“How?”

“I think I’m-- his,” you choke out. “I-- he doesn’t have a mark, I know that, but I have one. I’ve had one my whole life, and I’ve never felt--”

Steve exhales hard. “Jesus Christ.” Hands on his hips, he looks back at you. “So… you can sense him? Is that it?”

You nod. “Sort of. I noticed it when we first met. An awareness, really. I didn’t think anything of it. I thought I was being overprotective while he was recovering.”

Steve’s expression clears. “The night he had an episode after we went to Brooklyn. You knew something was wrong before I heard him.”

“Steve, I-- I don’t want him to know. We just need to find him. Everything else… it doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that I can help you find him, and we can help him.”

“Okay.” Steve’s voice is sure, full of conviction. “Okay. We get him back, and we worry about the rest later.”

.

“Where are the others?” You ask as you, Steve, and Phil walk as quickly as possible towards the quinjet.

“Tony’s on standby. No point in bringing the full team until we know what we’re up against. I don’t even know where to start looking.” He exhales hard. “What do they even want with him? Without the triggers, there’s no point--”

“Hydra’s been trying to pop up all over the world,” Coulson says. “They’ve taken over several old SHIELD bases, some that we didn’t even know about. They could be trying to use the Asset to bring out whoever’s still in hiding.”

“But he’s not the Soldier anymore.” You say, fierce.

“They don’t know that.” Coulson points out.

At this point, other members of his team have gathered, and you try to keep it together before you have to explain yourself in front of everyone. You’d rather suss this out with Steve, first.

“We’re ready to help if you need it, Captain.” Coulson says, shoulders straight.

Steve watches him carefully, hands on his hips. “We don’t even know where to start looking.”

“Any chance Sergeant Barnes would try to send a signal?” Daisy asks, her voice quiet as she interrupts. “If you know what to look for, we could try to hack into any outgoing Hydra communication channels we know about.”

Steve’s expression clears. “Yeah, he might. If he’s not--”

“He’s not compromised, Steve. I can feel it.” You tell him quietly. Steve stares at you, trying to decide if he can trust this. You don’t blame him - you have no idea if this is going to work either.

“Alright, let’s get to work.” Steve says finally.

“You got it, boss.” Daisy says, with a lazy salute, and you watch, amused as her gaze snaps to Coulson. “No offense, Director.”

“None taken. I’m outranked.” He says agreeably.

You sigh in relief at finally having some help. You can’t let anything happen to Bucky. For Steve’s sake, and for your own.

.

Bucky opens his eyes slowly - his eyelids feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. Immediately he’s on edge. He has a hazy vision of someone breaking down his door, a cloth in his face and him trying to fight them off before he passed out.

Shit, he thinks, Steve’s going to be so pissed. He takes a minute to assess the situation. A dingy, dark room. He’s shackled. Not the most original way he’s ever been held against his will, but whatever.

He spares a thought for you. Do you even know he’s gone? You’re with SHIELD. Steve’s probably trying like hell to keep this from you, so he doesn’t worry you. Bucky feels himself getting angrier the longer he thinks about it - he finally thinks he might be able to work up the nerve to ask you out, or to at least tell you he thinks you’re-- well, it doesn’t matter.

None of it will matter unless he gets out of here.

He feels a little woozy. He wonders what they used to knock him out, because he knows it would take nearly five times a normal amount of anything that would render a normal person unconscious. It makes him a little nervous, but again, it mostly pisses him off.

He tests his left arm - and can’t move. A brief flash of panic runs through him, but he grits his teeth and tells himself to calm down. There’s something in the room - an EMP maybe? Something that’s taken his arm out of commission.

He tests the shackles, and his right arm pulls free.

“Huh.” Suspicious.

The door opens, and in comes one of the two men who greeted him near the armory at the Tower.

“Oh, hello.” Bucky greets.

“Soldat.” The other man says, and Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“What was it I told you earlier? Oh, right. Eat shit.”

“So the rumors are true? The trigger words no longer work. That’s alright, there are other ways to make you comply.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m done taking orders. So you’re wasting your time.”

Bucky does, under it all, wonder what the play is here. He’s basically not held down any more, and they had to know the restraints wouldn’t hold him. So what’s the point? He doesn’t know enough about the Avengers to be a threat to their security, and he’s ninety percent sure that the brainwashing won’t work.

He’s banking on it.

In the back of his mind, there’s a buzzing that lets him know he’s still not completely with it. He also has a gut feeling that Steve is already assembling, or whatever it is he calls it when the Avengers get a mission, so he just has to stall enough to catch this goon off guard and get the hell out of here.

“Well, go on then. Tell me about your nefarious plans.”

That earns him a punch on the jaw, and while it doesn’t hurt really, it pisses him off.

“Alright. I’m tired of this. Tell me what you want, or I’m going to leave, and if I have to kill you to do it, well, that’s just too bad.”

His smile is just a touch too wild to be sane, Bucky thinks, right before he presses something in his right hand. Not an EMP, then, Bucky has a second to think before it feels as if his entire brain is being electrocuted, and then he blacks out.

.

“Remind me again why I’m doing this?” Tony asks Steve the second he lands in the hangar at SHIELD HQ. “Hello,” he says distractedly to the small crowd that’s gathered.

“Bucky’s in trouble.”

“Barnes has been in trouble his entire life.”

“Tony.” You growl, a warning if he’s ever heard one. “We have to help him.”

Tony sighs. “This place is pretty cool, if a little low tech,” he says finally, looking around, his gaze landing on Phil Coulson. “Phil. You’re not dead.”

“Neither are you. Heard it was pretty close for the both of us.”

Tony turns back to you and Steve. “Why am I here but Wilson isn’t?”

“Sam’s already doing recon.” Steve says, his expression hard. “I need you to help with the hacking.”

“Hey!” Daisy protests, not looking up from her laptop. “I don’t need help--”

“I know you,” Tony says. “You hacked SHIELD. They called me about that. I think you owe me an apology.”

She raises an eyebrow. “... anyway. We were able to narrow it down to these two previously unknown SHIELD bases. They’ve been silent for months, but recently had a string of outgoing communications, one of which can be tracked to a location in New York not far from the Tower.”

“He’s around the fucking block and I flew all the way here?”

Steve glares at Tony. “That doesn’t mean it’s where they’ve taken him. Just that they’re operating there.”

“They’ve probably had eyes on him ever since he came back to New York,” you say quietly.

“Christ.” Tony runs a hand over his face. “Alright, get Wilson over there and see what he can shake out. Doc, do you have a plan if Barnes is… compromised?”

You’re quiet. Steve’s quiet. No one really knows what to do if that’s the case. You’re not sure if it’s even possible, not after all the work Shuri did with Bucky’s recovery in Wakanda, but there’s still the possibility… no. You won’t let yourself think about it.

“We could use the containment module.” Agent May says quietly, one of the first things she’s said since you’ve been with SHIELD. “It’s meant to hold the strongest inhumans.”

Tony gets out of the suit eventually and you all start pouring over audio files from the last few days to try to find Bucky.

Eventually, Steve turns to you. “He’s alright?” He asks, softly, worriedly.

You sigh, but at the pained look on his face, you have no other choice. You concentrate as hard as you can, feeling your connection with Bucky like a tether. You’d know if he was gone. Even if it was just his mind.

“I think so.”

Tony gapes. “Does someone want to fill me in, here?”

“They have a connection.” Steve says, flat.

You watch as Tony connects the dots. “Oh, sweet Christ. That explains a lot.”

You glare. “Excuse me?”

He rolls his eyes, turning back to the monitor in front of him, muttering. “Making heart eyes at each other across my lab--”

“It could be that only she has the mark. But it shouldn’t diminish the bond,” Simmons says quietly across the table, her eyes not leaving the papers in front of her.

“You told SHIELD before you told me?” Tony asks, incredulous. “I’m wounded.”

“Are they always like this?” Fitz asks Coulson, not so quietly. You can relate - there’s something about seeing that your heroes are just regular people.

“Got him.” Daisy says suddenly, voice hard. “There.” She points at the map.

“Let’s go,” Coulson directs, “we’re wheels up in five.”

“You’re staying here.” Steve tells you, and you immediately stop in your tracks.

“I’m going with you. Are you--”

“This is a rescue mission.”

“And I’m a doctor!” And I’m his soulmate, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Argue later, on the jet now!” May says sharply, throwing a bulletproof vest in your direction. You catch it before you get knocked over with the weight, and slip it on as quick as you can.

On the jet, you watch as Steve Rogers slowly disappears and Captain America takes over, giving orders and preparing for the possibility that the person they’re going to find might no longer be his best friend.

“You’re going to stay on board while we clear the place, got it?”

You scowl, but don’t argue with him, knowing it won’t do you any good. He goes around handing out comms, and everyone checks that they’re working, giving him a thumbs up. Daisy Johnson looks absolutely delighted to be on a mission with Captain America and Iron Man.

It seems like it’s only minutes before you land. Sam is waiting for you when you get there, and squeezes your shoulder as he passes you to confer quietly with Steve and Tony.

“Alright, we’re going to split up into teams.”

While Steve is talking, you’re barely listening, too focused on trying to concentrate on your newly-discovered bond with Bucky to figure out if he’s alright.

“Don’t get any ideas, Doc.” Tony says to you on his way out the door, tapping the comms device in his ears for emphasis as he goes.

You sigh - you hate being sidelined, even if you know Steve is right - you can’t provide the kind of help that they might need.

“Be careful,” you tell the three of them, plus the SHIELD team.

They go down the ramp quickly, leaving you alone with Simmons and Fitz.

.

Bucky hasn’t really been thankful for his advanced hearing in the short time he’s been fully in control of his faculties, but even in the short time he’s been back with Steve, he’d recognize the sound of a quinjet landing anywhere.

He feels like he’s been knocked over the head with a hammer. His energy has been totally zapped, and he knows he needs to fight, needs to figure out how to get the hell out of here, he just can’t summon the will to get up.

There’s a commotion in the hallway near the room he’s being kept, and when the door finally bursts open, his face falls when he sees Tony Stark.

“Did you disable the power?” Bucky asks immediately, not giving Tony a chance to make what he’s sure was meant to be a dramatic entrance.

“What? No. Why are you on the ground?” Tony asks, irritated, taking a few steps towards Bucky before a now-familiar buzzing fills his ears. Bucky watches, un-amused, as the lights flicker, and Tony freezes, his suit shorting out.

It’s not the same bone-crackling energy that had rendered him virtually useless earlier, but Bucky still grits his teeth at the feeling of it ripping up whatever sensors are left in his metal arm.

“Oh, god dammit.” Tony curses. “Steve is here. He’ll figure it out.”

“They’ve got a device like an EMP. Shorts out everything electrical.” He winces, “Makes me feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears.”

“That’ll mean Wilson down for the count too,” Tony mutters.

Overhead, the lights flicker once more and then they go out entirely. The walls seem to shake with the force of an explosion, and Bucky and Tony barely have a chance to exchange worried glances before they’re plunged into darkness.

.

Inside the quinjet, it feels like an earthquake.

Jemma doesn’t look up. “That’ll be Daisy,” she says casually.

Fitz is frowning. “That didn’t feel like a quake.” He stands, heading over to one of the monitors where he tries to get in touch with the rest of the team. “Daisy? Coulson?”

You try too, pressing your finger against the comms device in your ear. “Steve?”

You get no response, not from him, and not from anyone else. You start to feel dread prickling up your spine, and you surge to your feet, not able to just sit there anymore.

“I have to go help them.”

Simmons looks up at you, “You don’t have any way to defend yourself! If they’re not responding--”

“What, we’re going to just leave them in there?”

Fitz looks like he’s weighing his options. He moves quickly, digging into his backpack. He pulls out his sidearm, thrusting it at you. “You know how to use this?”

You swallow thickly. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go.” He shoulders his backpack, and you tuck the gun into your waistband.

“Fitz!” Simmons protests. “The Captain said to stay here—“

“Tell him it was my idea,” you say. “He can lecture me after we save his life.” You take off down the ramp before either of them can say anything else, but you’re relieved when you hear their footsteps following.

Inside, you’re immediately on edge at the lack of guards. You’ve got your borrowed gun at the ready, Fitz and Simmons silently behind you. “First floor is clear,” you whisper. On a whim, you press your finger to your ears again, just on an off chance. “Can anyone hear me?”

“Daisy!” Simmons exclaims before racing towards a figure slumped against a far wall. “Daisy? Can you hear me?”

Daisy groans, opening her eyes slowly. “Shit. Simmons?”

“What happened? We thought it was you--”

“It was me, but then there was this-- I don’t know. It felt like it was scrambling my brain. Took the power out. I tried to quake a few of the guards, but it knocked me out.”

“It only knocked out the powered people?”

“It shorted out my gloves,” Daisy says, getting to her feet. “It’s like it reversed the energy I was exerting and put it back at me.”

You blanche. “Steve and Bucky.”

Fitz echoes your worry. “Falcon and Iron Man have powered suits. Might have had the same effect on them, too.”

All you can think of is what Bucky might have felt - his arm literally is fused to his nerves - and you’re suddenly angrier than you’ve ever been. Forcing yourself to take a few deep breaths. You have no idea if Bucky’s realized your connection yet, but even if he hasn’t he’s got to be feeling some residual panic. You force yourself to calm down.

“There.” Fitz says suddenly, pointing towards the one room in the building with a light on. You can hear voices inside. “It’s Coulson.”

You walk up to the room slowly, gun drawn, the three SHIELD agents at your back. Peering around the corner, you can hear what almost sounds like a casual conversation between Coulson and some Hydra lunatic.

“-- what exactly is the grand plan? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s four Avengers here.”

The man scoffs. “A lot of good they are, aren’t they!” He laughs, “Captain Rogers here doesn’t look like he’s much up for anything right now.”

You take a deep breath when you see Steve slumped against the doorway. Slowly, you reach down, checking his pulse. Still alive, you reassure yourself.

“So you’ve got a device that can take out inhumans and the enhanced. What comes next?”

“Don’t forget it disables any man-made technology that aids the enhanced. Gives us a much more level playing field.”

“This is boring,” Coulson says, dry. “There’s no grand plan? You kidnapped Bucky Barnes to… what? To get Steve Rogers here? To get SHIELD here? You had to know someone would come.”

“The more Avengers we can take out at once, the better. And once we build this machine to its full potential, we can take out entire countries' worth of inhumans and the enhanced.”

You’ve heard enough. “New plan.” You say firmly, stepping around the corner, gun raised. Your eyes narrow. “Where’s Sergeant Barnes?”

The man looks unruffled. “I assume he’s in the cell where we left him, considering he’s only got one fully functioning arm.”

You glance over your shoulder at Fitz and Simmons. “Figure out a way to power that down.” Daisy stays out of sight, but you appreciate knowing you’ve got at least one superhero at your back. Gun still pointed at the Hydra agent, they hurry around him, analyzing the panels and buttons in front of them.

“I wondered if you’d come too,” the man says. He holds out a hand. “Alex Harrison. We haven’t met yet. Well, not officially.” He smirks, “Seen you around though, with the Asset.”

“He has a name.” You growl.

“Two minutes,” Fitz says, and you’re aware of Coulson reaching for his waistband, too. Behind you, Steve starts to rouse, and you fight off the panic at him immediately springing into action.

“Even if you destroy this machine, the plans won’t be stopped.”

“You talk too much,” Coulson says, lunging forward and hitting Harrison hard with the butt of his gun, sending him collapsing to the ground.

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Had to find out about their evil plan.”

“What-- what are you doing here?” Steve asks groggily.

“Hate to break this up, but we need to find the others.” Daisy says. She looks at you, “Can you tell where he is?”

You concentrate on the bond.

“I’ve got him.”

.

Bucky thinks if he could avoid spending any extended period of time with Tony Stark again, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“All I’m saying is… have you noticed her?”

He’s been needling Bucky about you for the last half hour, and Bucky’s about had it. “Shouldn’t we be trying to get the hell out of here?”

Tony glares. “Well, considering I can’t move…”

The door to the cell suddenly bursts open, and both Bucky and Tony flinch.

“Took you long enough!” Tony crows at the unfamiliar woman, holding her hand up not unlike Bucky’s seen Tony do.

“Bucky!”

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice. You’re there, in front of him, real and alive, hair escaping your ponytail in tendrils, clad in a bulletproof vest and a pair of jeans that he thinks he’ll be dreaming about for days to come.

Also, a gun.

He’s never pondered the attractiveness of firearms until now.

“This seems backwards,” Bucky says. “I should be the one attempting a daring rescue for you.”

“He’s not good at being grateful,” Tony mutters.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the woman says, interrupting. “I’m Daisy. I’m with SHIELD. It’s an honor to meet you.” She grabs his good arm, hoisting him to his feet.

“Brought the calvary, then?” Bucky asks you, over Daisy’s shoulder.

Daisy snorts. “Actually, yes, but don’t let Agent May hear you say that.”

“We have to go quickly.” You say, moving to Bucky’s side. “Are you hurt anywhere else? What did they--” your voice is getting increasingly panicked, and Bucky stops you.

“I’m okay.” He says softly. “Let’s go.”

Getting both himself and Tony oriented is a struggle as they fight off the effects of the EMP, but out in the corridor, he finds the rest of the team including Wilson and Steve congregating. He fights not to notice the way you stay close to his side, close enough to touch.

“How did you find me?” Bucky asks Steve.

Steve glances at you. “It’s a long story.”

Outside, on the quinjet, you busy yourself checking everyone for injuries and any signs of trauma from the Hydra device. You’re in your element, and Bucky can’t take his eyes off you.

He realizes how close he came to being done for. If not for the quickness of the team - however they found him - and for the fact that the trigger words don’t work anymore, he would have been lights out without ever telling you that he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

They land quickly, promising the SHIELD agents a chance to rest up at Stark Tower before they head back to their base.

You head to the infirmary with Bucky, whose arm is still shorted out.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you back up and running, okay, Sergeant?” Your smile is gentle.

“Yes ma’am.”

He watches you work, watches the way your forehead creases as you concentrate and the way you have tiny flecks of light in your eyes.

He wonders if you’ve got someone. You’ve never mentioned it, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining all these little moments the two of you have had together. There’s the matter of the mark. He hasn’t seen if you have one. He’s put off thinking about his own - or the lack thereof - for… decades.

He decides he doesn’t care. Not when you’re smiling at him like that, and indulging his bad jokes, and making him feel like he’s a normal person, not someone to be afraid of.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” He blurts.

You look startled. “Uh-- no, I don’t think so.”

“Do you want to go out?” He takes a minute to relish in the surprised look on your face. “With me?”

A myriad of emotions flash across your face. One he doesn’t expect to see is sadness. It makes a lead weight settle in his stomach.

“Bucky…”

He’s afraid of what you’re going to say. He finds himself rushing to reassure you. “It’s not-- it doesn’t have to be anything serious. I just-- I want to spend time with you. Just us.”

You’re so still. It doesn’t track with anything he knows about you - the way you’re always moving, always taking care of everyone else.

“You want to go out with me?” You manage. “Like, a date?”

He smiles. “Yeah, like a date.”

“You want to go out on a date with me?” You ask him again, and he laughs, unable to believe that he has to explain why he thinks you’re so extraordinary.

“I’ve felt a connection with you since the minute we met. I can’t explain it, but it’s true. And the way you burst in there to rescue me, all guns and glory…” a wry smile twists his mouth. “How was I supposed to not want you?”

“Oh, Bucky.” You say, watery through your tears. But you’re smiling now, which is a far sight better than when he thought you were horrified by the prospect of being with him romantically.

He continues, feeling a burst of confidence. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, so I’m sorry if I’m out of practice. I just-- I feel like I know you. I need you to know that even if-- if we’re not soulmates, even if you don’t believe in that shit, I still want you. I don’t see that changing any time soon.” Bucky’s voice is filled with conviction, and he watches as tears pool in your eyes and start to spill over. “Oh, honey, no.” He reaches for you, but stops halfway. “Don’t cry. I’ll-- what do you need? If you need me to fuck off and never be seen again, I know a guy who can make that happen,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

A choked sob leaves your mouth, but now you’re smiling, so Bucky takes it as a good sign, though he’s still terrified you’re going to turn tail and leave him standing here. “What is it? Why are you-- please don’t cry.”

You don’t say anything, but it happens almost in slow motion. You lift up your left arm and slowly push up the sleeve, and start to take off your watch. Underneath, in faded black ink, is a vine of ivy, trailing around your delicate wrist, small leaves dotting your veins.

His entire world stops. He’s speechless. He has absolutely no idea what to say. His brain is just screaming, you belong to her, you belong to her over and over again.

“I knew I was yours, but I thought that you didn’t belong to me.” You’re saying. “I-- I didn’t want to trap you, I--.”

“Why would you think that?” His voice cracks.

You look confused. “You don’t have a mark, Buck, I’m your doctor, I saw your arm--”

“My left arm.” His voice is hoarse.

“What?”

“My mark was on my left arm. It showed up in 1934, before the war, before… everything.”

The air whooshes from the room.

“What did it look like?” You ask timidly.

He smiles, stepping closer. “Why don’t you tell me?” He takes your hand, slowly, like he’s afraid he’s going to spook you.

“If this is a joke--”

“I would never joke about this.” He says, hoarse. “I got my mark when I was seventeen years old, and all I thought about for years was finding my match.” Feeling braver, he reaches forward, cupping your face in his palm. “They took that from me,” he says. “Kind of fitting the one to rescue me from Hydra was also the one to bring my mark back to me, right?”

You laugh, a little choked through your tears, and he leans down, tracing the pattern he knows so well with his fingertips on his good hand. “There’s a pale pink flower,” he whispers, looking you dead in the eyes. “Right about here.” His thumb presses lightly at the crook of your elbow, where you know a flower sits.

“It’s how I found you.” You tell him, and the pieces start to click into place. “I dreamed about you, but I think it was more of a vision.”

“You were the one to realize I’d been taken?” He asks, feeling his heart squeeze. “Jesus.”

“Called Steve in the middle of the night. Demanded he listen to me and he came to get me from SHIELD.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, a smile growing on his face. “In a good way,” he adds. Then, quieter, “I’ve dreamed of you too.” He whispers.

You’re both quiet for a few minutes. “What do we do now?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Don’t know. I haven’t done this before.” HIs eyes are filled with mirth.

“Oh… you-- shut up.”

He grins - he has a feeling riling you up is going to be one of his favorite pastimes.

“Let me get your arm up and running, and then we’ll talk.” You eye him carefully. “I might have to get Tony for the hardwiring.”

Bucky lets his head drop back as he groans. “Anyone but him.”

You cackle delightedly. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

He brightens at the use of the endearment. He feels - it’s a dream. Seventy years of waiting, and somehow, in the back of his mind, he knew you were different the minute he met you.

He knows you have a lot to talk about - a lot to decide, a lot to work through. He feels almost invincible, though, especially after thinking for so long that he would never find his match if he didn’t have his mark anymore. He still can’t fathom how he got so lucky for it to be you.

.

You feel like you’re walking on clouds for the rest of the day. After some good-natured ribbing from the team, and from SHIELD - you promised to stay in touch with them, if only to convince Steve and Tony to come around and start working with them again; you quite like Phil Coulson - they mostly leave you and Bucky alone.

You hole up in his apartment for nearly the entire day, talking about everything you can think of. Your childhood, his childhood, even the rough parts that make his voice catch and harden… you sit right there and hold his hand through it.

You can almost feel your bond like a living, breathing thing now. It’s electric when the two of you touch, something that you’d always noticed but tried not to put any weight on.

Now, it seems so obvious.

He kisses you goodnight. It sends a flare of heat through you and nearly makes you dizzy, and you want him to do it again as soon as it ends.

He reminds you that you’ve got a lifetime to sort out what this all means.

A lifetime with Bucky Barnes sounds like a dream.

You can’t wait.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Reasons Lee was the Best

Lee Everett is one of my favorite playable protagonists in any game I’ve played. Weirdly enough, I feel like he is somehow super loved yet under appreciated?? because sure, everyone says that they love Lee and talk about how he was just the best but like.... most times, they rarely go into details of why they love him and think he’s the best. 

Well, with today’s list, I wanna go into details about why I think Lee was the best. I tried to stick to more non-determinant things, but plenty slipped through, soo... it’s fine. I just wanna talk about Lee and why I like him so much.  

Also just wanna say thanks to @pi-creates​ for helping me out with these Top 5′s once again! We discussed a lot of these points and it was a huge help! :D

5. Lee is just... so funny sometimes. 

Not gonna spend too much time on this one because it’s more of a minor reason why I think he’s the best compared to the others but...

Lee is hilarious.

Like, even from the beginning, Lee knows how to make me laugh with his little “I’d fill that teacup with some bourbon if I could” line, and the fact that he is constantly falling down. The poor guy has to have at least three concussions by the end of ep1 alone. 

Also, his flirting skills...? Amazing. I’ll never get over, “You’re small.” 

He just has such a strange sense of humor about him that feels very dad-like... which makes perfect sense, but y’know. But even when he isn’t even trying, he still manages to get a laugh outta me for being such a weirdo.

Who goes up to a fence, looks at it, and is just like, “Hmmmm. Pointy.” 

Even after he’s bit, he manages to get a few painful laughs outta me when talking with Ben... though that laughter quickly dies when we reach then end of ep5 but..... y’know. 

4. His willingness to help those who have wronged him. 

Larry is a garbage man-- I think the mass majority of us would agree to that. From the moment we meet him, he’s all huffy and puffy, accusing Duck of being bitten and wanting to throw him out while taunting Kenny. 

But, no matter what, Lee is always the one to help Lilly break into the pharmacy to get Larry his medication. Because really, Lee could’ve said “Nope, not doin’ any of this, someone else help the asshole,” but he doesn’t. 

This is just a bigger example of Lee going out of his way to help people, even if they shitheads like Larry. Hell, even after Lee gets them the pills, Larry gives him a big thank you by punching him in the face and leaving him for death. Lee can hold a grudge about this, or he can let it go and do his best to get along with Larry for the better of the group. 

Another example with trying to help Larry despite him being the worst is, of course-- the meat locker. Now, this is determinant, but I feel bringing it up is important. 

Lee choosing to help Larry, even though Larry was just taunting him minutes before and Kenny’s being a real shitbird, says a lot about him as a person. 

Another example of Lee willing to help others he may not get along with would be Kenny, depending on your choices. When Kenny’s going through the hardest day of his life, Lee can take it upon himself to take care of Duck and comfort Kenny. 

Shit, what about Lilly? After she kills Carley/Doug right in front of everyone, he can still take pity on her and not leave her at the side of the road. 

I think because I have a really hard time helping those who have wronged me, I can look at this as an admirable trait that I wish came easier to me, y’know? 

3. Mourning the deaths of people he barely knew/didn’t know at all. 

This is an interesting one that Pi brought up, but there are several points within S1 where Lee will take small moments to mourn the deaths of those he either barely knew, or didn’t know at all, showing he has it in him to be really empathetic to other people's struggles and sufferings. 

Like, think about the woman at the motor-inn, the one you can give the gun to. Lee will stay behind no matter what to be with her, and you can see it on his face. He didn’t know her, didn’t get her name or anything. 

In Jolene’s camp in ep2, when Lee looks into the tent, he can find a stuffed animal and a picture of Jolene and her daughter and again, you can see it all on his face. He gives a sigh, and a moment of silence for them. 

Oh, the woman that Kenny wants to leave alone while they’re on a run to the drug store? This one is determinant, but if Lee chooses to shoot her, he does so to put her out of her misery-- he doesn’t want her to suffer anymore than she has to just so that they can grab an extra candy bar or two. 

Another big one would be the boy in the attic. Y’know, that chilling scene of the boy who starved to death/died of dehydration, became a walker, and then couldn’t even walk because he was so weak? Yeah, that one-- Lee carries that boy out to the yard and gives him a proper burial. He didn’t have to, but he did. 

Hell, he even mourns Brie when talking to Vernon in ep4, and that Anna woman that you see on the tapes after it’s revealed that she’s pregnant and has to give up her baby. 

Oh, and Chuck in the sewers? That one you can’t skip, and no matter what, Lee will stop and tell Chuck that he deserved better. 

Last example, but the dead couple in ep5-- this is one that everyone stands around in silence because it really is a chilling sight. 

This to me just shows a lot about Lee, especially in a setting where it’s easy for these characters to gloss over the deaths of those they didn’t know or to let others hurt for their benefit [y’know... Kenny with the bitten woman]. I’m sure there are even more examples, but I do have three other things to cover.

2. Taking responsibility for Clementine.

Okay, these last two are to be expected, but we’re gonna talk about them anyway. 

Listen, when Lee found Clementine alone at her house after she saved him from walker Sandra, he didn’t have to take her with him. He could’ve left her behind so that she didn’t “weigh him down” or “become a burden” since y’know, having a child in your care isn’t easy. 

But Lee didn’t do that. She saved his life, and he knows her parents are dead and not coming back. There wasn’t even a doubt in his mind-- he was taking this girl with him to ensure her safety. If he hadn’t, she could’ve ended up just like the boy in the attic, or worse. 

I also love that moment when they’re leaving the house and Clementine takes his hand. It’s sweet and shows us that they’re in this together now, and when Clementine shares her fears of leaving, he reassures her that he won’t leave her alone. 

Lee does his absolute best to care for her and give her what she needs. Hell, you can play as Scumbag Lee and most times, that doesn’t even matter-- he still expresses his care for her. 

Like... I don’t think game would work if the relationship between Lee and Clementine didn’t work, y’know? It’s strong and one of my favorite parts of S1 when I go back to it. I love seeing them grow from Lee being Clementine’s protector to Lee teaching her to survive and protect herself. 

Again, he didn’t have to do any of that. He could’ve pawned her off onto to anyone at the motor inn and called it a day, but he didn’t, and I love that about him. 

Lee goes through so much for a child that isn’t even his blood, but considers family nonetheless... which brings us to #1... 

1. Saving Clementine from the Stranger despite being bitten by a walker. 

Sigh.

Okay. I’m sure you’re tired of me saying this but... after Clementine is kidnapped by the Stranger and bitten by a walker, he could’ve given up. He didn’t have to go after Clementine-- he’s bit, he’s dying... he’s not gonna survive this, so why bother?

Because even though Lee knows he’s not going to survive the bite, he’s going to use the last of his time and energy to ensure that Clementine is safe. He’s gonna do whatever it takes to get Clementine the away from that madman who took her, make sure she remembers everything he taught her, make sure she’s armed, and make sure she knows where to go after he dies. 

Again, Lee didn’t have to go through this. He fought like hell and suffered plenty in making it to her. His last moments were agony for him, I’m sure. 

But he did it and you can tell he has no regrets because Clementine’s alive and going to make it. 

And y’know... that last damn scene in ep5 is just... a lot. 

I love it but I also hate it, and I believe I’ve mentioned this before but I’ve come to really love the ending where Clementine leaves Lee to turn. I know everyone gets upset because that means Lee will become a walker and [?] Everyone HATED that... but, I dunno... it shows something about Lee when you pick that choice. He’s more concerned about her than himself, y’know? Don’t waste the bullet, don’t risk the noise, don’t force her to physically kill him, let her walk away so she can remember her for what he was and not what he’s going to turn into... it’s reeeeal bittersweet. 

Then, of course, you can do the other choice and have Clementine shoot Lee which is just as great at making me cry, soo... thanks. 

Lee just goes through so much during this game-- he gets a second chance and everything he did, he did to ensure Clementine and his group’s survival and just... what a man. 

Lee Everett, you are the best and I love you. 

---

Honorable Mentions

-Not dropping Ben. Again, determinant, but I love a Lee who doesn’t drop children to their death because the mustache said so.  -Struggles with doors. Relatable.  -Is voiced by Dave Fennoy who gives a fantastic performance.  -Awkward flirt. Again, relatable. 

---

So what do you think? Do you agree with these reasons, or do you have any to add? Lemme know, it’s always fun to have character discussions. 

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

Next week’s T5F Top 5 GOOD Things About Season Two

[idek20000]

I used a promt generator to find some random KanKiba thingys and I'm gonna share some that I like :)

1. They meet when Kankuro sees Kiba walk into a street sign

2. Kankuro being a batista at a coffee shop and always screwing up Kiba's name on purpose

(He'd write it as Kyba or somethin else stupid 😭)

3. Kiba and Kankuro were separated for several years for reasons they couldn't help. They finally find each other and have a heartfelt reunion

(This one makes perfect sense ^)

4. Kankuro taking Kiba out for Valentine's Day to cheer them up after their original plans with someone else fell through. As Kankuro tries their best to make Kiba happy and succeeds after only a few attempts, Kiba realizes they would have rather been with Kankuro anyways

(Ok, that was too cute-)

5. Kankuro and Kiba's child coming to sleep with them after having a bad dream

(YEESSSSSSS ^)

6. Kiba is a prince or princess, falling for Kankuro, the castle gardener who tends to the foliage surrounding Kiba's balcony

(🥺 I feel the need to write this-)

7. Kankuro letting Kiba warm their cold hands under their shirt

(I can picture this ^)

Kiba: [touches Kankuro's stomach on purpose to make him cold]

Kankuro: yOU MOTHERFU-

8. Kiba is playing a video game/reading a book/watching a show and is talking about how they ship two of the characters together because of [insert cute reason here], and then Kankuro says 'that sounds like you and me right there'

9. Kankuro and Kiba remembering their first kiss… and they have very different takes on it

(Would probably go down like this)

Kiba: It was nice

Kankuro: It sucked, your kissing game was WEAK

Kiba: IT WAS MY FIRST KISS

Kankuro: Yeah, I could tell

10. Kiba and Kankuro sharing a soft smile across a crowded room

(A w)

11. Kankuro being careful (or not at all careful) taking off Kiba's shirt because Kiba is extremely ticklish

(He would not be careful at A L L)

12. Kiba not letting Kankuro out of bed by cuddling them

(Kankuro's so much bigger than him that I could just see him pickin up Kiba and throwin him-)

13. Kiba hurt their ankle and is laid up with a cast and crutches. Kankuro is sitting next to them, doodling little hearts on their cast to cheer them up

(This is just 👌)

14. Kiba lends their sweater to Kankuro. When Kankuro is home, they realize they still have Kiba's sweater and find Kiba's iPod. Out of curiosity, Kankuro looks through Kiba's music and finds a playlist titled with Kankuro's name

(Someone please just try to tell me 'Chug Jug With You' wouldn't be in that Playlist cuz we all know it would-)

15. Them exploring each others' bodies, but not in a sexual way. Finding their different birthmarks, looking over each others' scars and sharing the stories behind them, running their hands over one another and just appreciating the feeling of the other person next to them

16. Kankuro booping Kiba's nose with their finger

(I feel like he'd do this all the TIME-)

17. Kankuro having to comfort Kiba because Kiba just encountered a very large, unpleasant bug outside that scared them

(Probably one of Shino's lol)

18. Kiba and Kankuro play Twister. Things get embarrassing and awkward fast

Kiba: Why's your hand on my ass?

Kankuro: Well it's not my fault that your ASS is on YELLOW

19. Kiba absolutely loves the taste of the chap stick/lip balm Kankuro uses, so they keep stealing kisses from Kankuro

20. Kankuro getting to go back in time and change something bad that happened in their past with Kiba

(Ngl, that shit hurted)

21. Kankuro and Kiba go to a fair/amusement park and Kankuro wants to go on the roller coaster and Kiba agrees. Later, Kiba regrets their decision and ends up clinging onto Kankuro for dear life

(Kiba would already KNOW that he's scared to death but wanted to look cool in front of everyone)

22. Kiba pressing their forehead against Kankuro's forehead to check if they have a fever

23. Kiba and Kankuro each other. Kankuro makes a spectacular drawing and Kiba's drawing does turn out to be that good. However, Kankuro keeps Kiba's drawing and treasures it

(This could also lowkey work as a father-son moment between Sai and Inojin)

24. Kiba likes stealing Kankuro 's phone to change Kankuro 's phone wallpaper into something stupid (like unattractive pictures of Kankuro 's face or doing something like picking their nose). Kiba is doing another routine swipe of Kankuro 's phone, but doesn't have the heart to change it because this time because Kankuro 's phone wallpaper is a cute picture of the two of them (like their first date together, or the only picture they have together)

(This is just precious)

25. Kankuro wants to use their laptop on the couch, but Kiba always occupies the space in their lap

26. Kankuro : guess what

Kiba: what

Kankuro : i love you

Kiba: O:

(This is too accurate)

27. Kankuro and Kiba sleeping on top of each other (in the bed, couch, where ever you prefer) when Kiba flops down on the floor

28. Kiba and Kankuro as a superhero/sidekick duo, but Kiba is constantly messing up and getting in Kankuro's way during their crime-fighting missions

(He really would)

28. Kiba calming Kankuro down when they have a bad dream

(Probably would be about his parents)

29. Kankuro and Kiba trying to hide their relationship. However, it turns out everyone knows they're dating

(Shikamaru and Temari would definitely be the first ones to find out)

30. Kankuro is about to leave for work. Kiba asks them if they've forgotten anything, and Kankuro gives them a kiss. Kiba turns red and opens their hand to reveal Kankuro's keys/wallet/etc., saying 'I meant this, but thanks.'

Ok that's it. I'll probably write an incorrect quote next so see you then!

[villainousshakespeare]

Putting It Back Together Chapter 1

Adam/OFC

Rated M (will probably change to E) - Grief, angst, eventual smut, mention of characters dead before the start of the story

Summary: Since the death of his beloved Eve, Adam had been barely living, only alive due to a promise he made to her. Then one night he meets his new neighbor, a woman dealing with grief of her own. Will they help each other heal or drive each other crazy?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1​ @poetic-fiasco​ @shiningloki​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @bookworm-christina​ @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy​ @amwolowicz​ @delightfulheartdream​ @frostbitten-written​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @tom-hlover​ @nonsensicalobsessions​

So I decided to take a crack at Adam. The plan is to have this be around 10 chapters, but that is just a guess at the moment. It starts a little angsty, but will lighten up as it goes along. Hope you enjoy!

If you would like on or off the tag list, please let me know!

It was more of a mist than a drizzle adding chill to the late autumn air as he walk through the dark streets. Even this time of night there were noises of fellow wanders, zombies he was sure, but he managed to keep from the streets where they roamed. The last thing he needed was to be confronted with the mindlessness of what passed for humanity in these times.

That was the trade off of life in the city. The need to constantly dodge others was barely offset by the convenience of shops open late and services not bound by the constraints of daylight. Not that Adam needed many services of others. He was in most ways self sufficient. He had worked for centuries to make it so. With but two exceptions - sustenance and music - he had only ever needed one soul besides his own.  

She was gone now, his Eve. Eleven years had passed since she had taken a glass of tainted blood in Tangier. It seemed like yesterday, it seemed like a lifetime. He wished it were his lifetime. Only a promise dragged out of him at her death bead had kept him from following her into oblivion. She had used every trick she possessed, every weakness she knew in him, to get him to agree to her demand, and now he was trapped, bound by a promise to another century on this blighted earth. Eighty-nine more revolutions until he could use the wooden bullet that lay heavy in breast pocket and end his grief.

He had wandered after she left him. Angry and bitter, he had left Africa and roved across the globe. Everywhere he went, though, there were memories. He saw her everywhere in Europe. The Middle East was littered with memories. Even South America echoed a life spent together.

Finally he had come back to America. She had not spent as much time in the States. It was easier here. He had considered Seattle, New Orleans, Memphis, the various musical centers of the country, but in the end New York had drawn him in. Strange, he had never spent much time here. Too many zombies too close together. And yet, he could not deny it had definite advantages, and for the most part no one paid any attention to what anyone else did.

He arrived at last at the brownstone in the East Village where he lived his weary life. He was excited, or at least as excited as he was capable of these days, to test out the Rickenbacker bass guitar that he had stumbled upon in a pawn shop. The owner had no idea how rare the model was, and had not known how to react to the large roll of cash that Adam had thrust at him for the  instrument.

Quickly shucking his black leather jacket, Adam took out he new prize and lovingly stroked the light grained wood. He could feel the decades of music that it had produced still reverberating through the body. He flicked a series of toggles and buttons to power up his sound system and plugged the Rickenbacker in. Closing his eyes he placed his fingers firmly on the frets and plucked out a rapid series of low notes, loving the reverberation and full tones it produced. Just as he began to segue into an actual song, however, a loud bang sounded and the lights, sound, and all other electronic power went dead.

"Shit!" he spit out, mood collapsing back in on itself as quickly as it had risen.

Setting the bass gently back in its case despite his irritation, Adam fumbled through his belongings until he located his tool box. After attaching his head torch and grabbing a second flash light just in case, he made his way down the hall to the ladder that lead up through a hatch onto the roof where a small shed held the electric box for his home.

"Just what I fucking need," he muttered, pulling himself onto the tarred surface.

He was just picking his tools back up when a loud creaking noise drew his attention. Just a few feet away, a second hatch door had opened, and a shape was pulling itself up and onto the roof with some difficulty, judging by the swearing. Adam watched in dismay as the shape unfolded itself to reveal a woman silhouetted against the half moon. She had a large, over bright flashlight in her hands that waved back and forth as she made her way to the shed that was his own destination.

"Who are you?" he asked, intercepting her before she could reach the structure.

"Ohmyfuckinggod!" she cried out, jumping almost a foot as he appeared in front of her.

Adam crossed his arms and waited silently for her to calm down, mouth drawn down into a habitual scowl.

"You scared me half to death!" she told him needlessly when she had regained some of her composure.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh, you know, just signaling Batman that evil is afoot," she said dryly, waving her oversized lamp back and forth.

Adam continued to stare at her, unamused, until she sighed and gave him a real answer.

"I'm checking out the fuse box. Are you from 89? You must be, I guess. So your lights are out too? It doesn't look like it's the whole block, just our two buildings. Hopefully flipping the switch will bring them back on."

"There's no need for you to trouble yourself," he told her when she finally stopped talking. "I have things well in hand. The power should be on shortly."

"Great," she said with a forced smile.

She didn't move. Why was she still standing there? Adam glowered at her, hoping to scare her off, but the brainless girl just stood there.

"Did you need something else?" he asked reluctantly.

"No, just the one thing," she replied, blinking at him. "Shall we get to it?"

"This will hardly take two," he ground out. "And I know how the system works."

He should! He had redone the entire wiring himself. The convoluted system of shorting wires and faulty circuits had been a travesty when he moved in. It had taken him almost a month to tear it out and build a more streamlined, efficient energy grid. The only problem now was when he forgot himself and pulled too much power for the subpar wiring in the wall to take. He had considered redoing that as well, but it would take time and draw attention, which he was keen on avoiding.

"Wonderful, then you can show me," she chirped at him. "After all, you may not be here the next time it goes off, and then I won't know how it works."

She was not going to let this go, he could tell from the deceptively stubborn set of her shoulders. With a roll of his eyes that he doubted her human eyes could catch in the darkness, he turned on his heel and walked over to the shed. Let her look at it, he decided. It was not like she would understand what he had done anyway.

"Woah," the nattering woman whistled as he opened the door. "That is not what I was expecting at all! It looks like some form of microhydraulics, but there's no way you could have a water source up here. What are you using?"

Adam turned and stared at her, really looking at her for the first time. She was short, even for a woman, not even coming up to his chin. Her hair was haphazardly tied into a bunch on the top of her head and looked like it would be bigger than she was if she were to let it down. The eyes she turned up towards him were inquisitive and sharp. She was pretty, he thought, for a zombie.

"How do you know about that?" he asked.

"I tinker," she said with a shrug. "When I'm anxious. Which is a lot of the time lately, to be honest. Too much energy. Sometimes it helps to take things apart an put them back together again."

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but realized he had no idea what he planned on saying. He closed it again and turned back to his contraption.

"Well, don't get any ideas about taking this apart," he grumbled, resetting the mechanism.

"No, I wouldn't," she assured him. "I only mess with my own things until I'm sure I can get them back the way they started. I learned that the hard way. This is really amazing. You are pulling in a boat load of energy. I just hope you don't burn the buildings down when it runs into the wiring. You're a musician, right? I've heard you practicing through the walls. I was so relieved you were good!"

Did this woman never stop talking? Despite his lack of response she seemed perfectly content to stand behind him, shining her flood light on the shed as he worked to get things running again.

"Oh! I see what you did there!" she commented brightly as the low hum of electricity started back up. "That should fix it. And I'm pretty sure I will be able to do that myself next time too!"

"Don't," he ordered, shutting the door with a loud clang. "If there is any problem with the power, I will fix it. I don't need someone else ruining my work."

"But if you're not here?" she repeated doggedly.

"Look, this has never been an issue before, why are you suddenly on my case about it now?"

"I didn't live here before," she answered. "I just moved in last week. This... this was my Grandmother's home. She died. Last week. I'm trying to sort it all now but..."

The light from his headtorch clearly lit up the tears that sprang to her eyes. As Adam stood there in horror, the girl's chin began to wobble and silent sobs hiccupped through her body. A moment later she had burst out crying. Adam, unable to think of anything else to do, slowly and gingerly put one arm around her shaking shoulders and patted her lamely on the back, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world.

***

Lilly woke up completely horrified. It had been a dream, she told herself. It had to have been a dream. That was the only way she was going to survive the events of the night before.

The soreness in her eyes and the streaks of mascara on the backs of her hands, unfortunately, told her the sad truth. It had been real. She had met her dark, handsome, mysterious neighbor, the one who played dark, mysterious music at all hours of the night, on a dark, mysterious rooftop. (Well, okay, maybe the rooftop hadn't been that mysterious, but still!) And what had she done? She had wept all over him like pathetic child.

This, she sighed to herself, was one of the many many reasons why she was single. Any normal girl would have played the damsel in distress, fluttered their eyes and let him be their hero. He certainly had the looks of a brooding hero, even if he seemed to lack the inclination. Of course, it might just be that he lacked the inclination because she had yammered on about anxiety and tinkering, and her grandmother's death and the cried all over him.

Groaning, she rolled over and looked at her clock, only to be greeted by blinking numbers. Of course. She had been too upset when he had finally managed to steer her back to her roof hatch and rid himself of her, lost in a combination of grief and humiliation, to reset it. Great. That meant that the alarm had never gone off. It could be any time now. A quick glance at her phone confirmed her fear. 4:00 in the afternoon. It had happened. She had become completely nocturnal.

Slowly dragging herself up, Lilly staggered to the bathroom and tried to let the hot water wash away her misery. She was tired of feeling miserable. By nature she was not a gloomy person. Anxious, yes, but not gloomy. It was just being here, in the house that once was her happy place but now held too many memories. All she could see where ever she looked was her beloved grandmother. Playing the piano, reading in the window nook, cooking in the large, renovated kitchen. Grandma Lillian was everywhere.

Growing up, Lilly had been an awkward child; small of body but big of personality Gran had said. She was always moving, either her hands or her mouth, having a hard time with stillness. It drove many people to distraction. Grandma Lillian, however, had stated quite matter of factly that she simply had a lot to do and more to say, and therefore needed to do it quickly.

Lilly had spent all of her summers and school vacations here, escaping into the city. Here, she could be herself. With all of the characters in New York City, she was far from the oddest. Grandma Lillian let her patter away happily, always taking her words seriously. She had also found all sorts of mechanical things for Lilly to tinker with, focusing her energy in a more productive direction. It was nonsense, she had opined, that girls were not encouraged more to go into the technical fields. Obviously that was the reason why nothing in this world ran properly.

She had hidden her illness from the family, from Lilly, until the very end. Lilly cursed herself that she had not seen through the excuses for the cancelled visits. A seniors cruise with her girlfriends! She could not imagine the opinionated woman stuck on a boat without someone going overboard. It wasn't until the very end, when she was had been taken to Hospice, that she had phoned Lillian to let her know that it was time to come and visit.

That was eight days ago. Lillian had held her hand at the end, singing in her tear choked voice the torch songs that her Grandmother had once made her living crooning in the night clubs of the city. It had not taken long. Less than a day and Lilly was alone, the owner of a house in the East Village and more money than she had ever imagined possessing, but much the poorer regardless.

The ensuing week was spent puttering around the brownstone, listlessly going through desks and dressers, boxes and cupboards. The memorabilia of a lifetime squirreled away into any available space. She had no need to work at the moment, which was good since she had no employment. Slowly but surely her own night owl tendencies had taken over and she was staying up until the sun streaked the horizon in the morning, only to bed down for the majority of the day. Her parents had always fretted and said it was a sign of depression. Gran had shrugged and agreed that the most exciting things happened at night.

The only excitement Lillian had experienced thus far had been the discovery that a new owner was in residence next door. For as long as she could remember there had been a constant stream of college and conservatory students renting out rooms in the building, turning over each year to the newest crop. Now though, there was one lodger only and he owned the building.

She had caught sight of him out the front window as he was leaving her second night there. Long, wild black hair that looked in want of brushing, black leather jacket, and black jeans that might have been painted on. He was tall, lean, and somehow dangerous looking. It was the way he walked, she decided. There was something almost feral in the swagger as he took off down the street. The next night she had heard him playing music.

At first she thought there were multiple musicians, but after hours spent guiltlessly eavesdropping she became convinced that it was only him. Interspersed with guitars, drums, bass, and other instruments that she couldn't name had come his voice, a distinctive low growl that cut through her sorrow to go straight to her core. She could feel the vibrations of his voice as surely as she heard the bass thumping through the walls.

She began haunting the window overlooking their stoops, hoping for sight of him. She caught glimpses a time or two, always late at night, well after dark. Rather he was coming in or going out, he seemed to eschew the daylight even more than she did. Lilly felt drawn to him, and by more than just his untamed beauty. She supposed she could write it off as one of her hyper-fixations, but intuitively she sensed it was more. She longed for an excuse to meet him.

And then she had. At night, on a roof, under a bright moon.

It would have been perfectly romantic, were she not dressed in a ratty sweatshirt and yoga pants, her hair flopped up any old way on her head. If her first words to him were not gasped out in a shriek, followed by thoughtless prattle. And the, the coup de gras, her sobbing breakdown. The look of unmixed horror on his face as he made his feeble attempt to calm her was burned into Lilly's brain.

She had to get rid of it. There might only be one chance to make a first impression, but maybe, just maybe, a second impression could in time supersede it. Never one to sit on a thought, Lilly squared her shoulders. It was six o'clock, he was bound to still be in. She would pay him a visit and apologize for her horrid behavior.

Yes, that was the plan. After all, what was the worst that could happen? It was bound to go better than last time.