#this au sounds a lot angstier than it actually is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

palpipeen · 2 years

Note

"You were supposed to be there" + "Please tell me what I can do. There has to be something I can do" with Fox? (Maybe he was supposed to stop some crime and didn't get there in time to save Reader from getting hurt?)

Showing Up

A date with Fox at the cafe. What could possibly go wrong? Rating: R for heavy language and some pretty dark themes Warnings: Domestic terrorism, anti-clone rhetoric, physical violence, Hurt with not a lot of Comfort, kidnapping Reader is AFAB/Barista!Reader Wordcount: 3115 AN: Me after writing that last prompt fill: Wowee that one sure showed my propensity to make things angstier than they need to be, I wonder if I’ll ever get an opportunity to do that again? This anon: Oh bet? :) GHSLDKGJHKJGH. I can already tell this one is going to hurt me to write. This one is also going to be Barista!Reader and is going to feature Syd and a new OC. Fuckin missed the creechur. And this one is….tentatively canon to Caf Delivery Service. This one is more canon to the AU, “And Nothing Bad Ever Happened Ever” where the war ends early and O66 never happened. There will be hints of that here but hopefully I won’t give too much away. 83c

SERIOUSLY Triggering content under the cut. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Minors DNI.

You couldn’t remember the cafe being this busy in a long time. The building was practically bursting at the seams - groups of troopers from at least four different battalions occupying almost every available table, mingling with civilians and the odd senator alike. You weren’t big on crowds, and even if the sound was a bit much, you felt like this was the right decision. It wasn’t often you went to The Coaster for anything other than work. But you were feeling a bit…nostalgic.

A year into your sort-of relationship with Fox was a good excuse, you reasoned.

“Well, lookie who it is.” The familiar sing-song voice of your favorite shift manager draws your attention. Syd gives you that wide, eye-squinty grin that always seemed infected just about everyone around them, one you return. Lucky for you, his voice carries easily over the din after they finish helping the customer in front of them. “Aren’t you off?”

“I’m meeting - someone.” You stumble over the last word, catching yourself a split second before ‘Fox’ slipped out. You glance away from their knowing eyes, shrugging, “Figured I’d go ahead and order.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, shimmying his shoulders playfully. Rolling your eyes at them, the two of you wait until you’re the next person in front of their register. Eyes narrowed in an entirely-too-satisfied smirk, Syd props their forearms on the top of the holoscreen, “Someone, eh?” When you pointedly ignore his salacious tone, Syd leans forward until his chin is resting on one wrist. “Does he happen to wear armor? Red armor, maybe? Does he also not know how to actually get a decent night’s sleep?”

“He’s doing better about that actually.”

“Yeah,” Syd chuckles, low and dirty in the back of their throat. “Yeah I’ll bet he is. I bet you know all sorts of ways to get him to sleep like a baby, don’t’cha?”

“C’mon, Syd, leave her alone.” One of your seasonal coworkers, a Twi’lek everyone called Vee, winks at you over Syd’s head when they straighten back up. “She’s got a hot date to think about without you grilling her.”

“Alriiight, two of my usual, please,” you say, a bit louder than is probably necessary and pointedly ignoring the way your voice cracks. Syd chuckles again.

“The triple large?”

“Have you met me Syd?” Or Fox.

You decide not to say that last bit out loud.

After giving Syd the appropriate amount of credits (which they then halve and you two bicker briefly about using your discount before you drop it in the donation box), you go in search of any available table. Exchanging quick greetings with some of the regulars as you do. You eventually settle on a table where you can see the entrance. Not for your own benefit.

While you wait for your drinks, you update Fox on the off-chance he’s caught up in work. Punctuality wasn’t something that really existed for Fox, not with the chaotic schedule he had to maintain.

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 01:03:47> I’m at the cafe! No rush of course - looking forward to seeing you though!

After you fetch your drinks, you settle back at your table.

And you wait.

* * *

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 02:45:14> Hey

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 02:45:15> I know you’ve got a schedule to keep up with

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 02:45:17> Just let me know later if you’ll be able to drop by the apartment, okay?

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 02:49:02> Sorry, don’t mean to come off as needy or anything, just missing you

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 03:00:13> I love you

You’re not sure what’s worse. The fact that you can’t really be mad at Fox for standing you up, or the understanding on your coworker’s faces when they see you toss your finished drink. Guilt tears at your stomach, which is also tying itself in knots. You can’t ignore where that guilt is coming from, either.

Face facts: you’re pissed.

Despite knowing that this isn’t his fault, that the whims and needs of senators and other government officials and the general public come first, it’s difficult not to be a little bit frustrated. In the past when Fox hasn’t been able to show up, his reasons were legitimate. You know it isn’t his fault. The frustration still lingers, but without the senators’ names or faces to envision, Fox’s is the only one that surfaces when you��re feeling like this. It’s selfish and you feel stupid and childish for it, and you worry constantly that he might just decide you aren’t worth the effort.

But he always shows up. Fox tries at any rate. Or at least, he makes it up to you when he can’t.

He tries and that’s more than you can say about most people. There will be other days and, little gods willing, other anniversaries.

You squash that thought the second it flits through your head. This line of thinking doesn’t suit your situation, you know. As though they can sense it, Syd catches your eye on your way to the doors, and you can see the pain he shares with you.

“Everything okay?” Their voice is quiet, and when all you can do is shrug, Syd lets out a quiet sound of understanding. “M’sorry, hon.”

“Eh,” you say, shrugging again and forcing a thin smile. “It happens. Kinda used to it.”

“I get it,” they say with a long, slow exhale. Syd glances at the line, which has shortened considerably by now. “Listen, if you wanna hang out and have a few drinks, I get off at --”

The shattering of transparisteel cuts Syd off. In unison the whole cafe turns towards the source of the sound as shards explode inward from one of the windows at the storefront. Shouts of alarm ring out when a metallic sphere arcs through the shattered window, a tail of thick, acrid smoke following it. The moment it touches the floor you see individuals from the GAR moving, feel them brushing past you, and then -

Everything goes white.

Well, that’s not quite right. You aren’t sure how long it takes you to come to, but the white is now replaced with pitch black, interspersed with flashes of white and color. Somehow you’re on the floor, flat on your back, with your head twisted awkwardly to one side.

What’s happening? You think you say that outloud - you feel the friction of something in your throat. But then you realize it’s from the smoke, smoke that fills the entire cafe, almost entirely blinding you. It stings at your eyes, making it nearly impossible to breathe when you try to push yourself upright.

Hands are on you - you flinch until you feel a lekku fall across your shoulder. Vee half drags, half leads you behind the counter, the two of you coughing and hacking the entire way. Syd ushers the two of you into the walk-in fridge, holding one arm across the lower half of his face.

“Syd?!”

“Stay here,” they croak out, and then the door shuts. The sound of the emergency lock activating nearly makes your heart stop.

“What the fuck are they thinking?!” One of your coworkers is on the door the instant the room goes silent. “He can’t be out --”

“Shh.” Vee hisses, grabbing your coworker and hauling him away from the door. All of you, cafe workers and customers alike, turn to her. Her eyes seem fit to burn holes through the door, and you stumble away from it.

Time passes strangely. You’re aware that it’s adrenaline that’s making it like this, but it’s still jarring. What feels like a lifetime creeps by, all while racing too quickly for you to keep up with your brain trying to figure out what’s happened. It works in leaps and bounds, jerky and uneven. Maybe seconds, maybe minutes pass, but you’re convinced hours have crept past by the time you piece together what’s happened.

Your manager had given you a cryptic warning during your interview. People don’t like what we do here. They think giving these soldiers common decency and affordable caf is wrong, somehow. You’d argued that they weren’t paying the rent, or fees to keep the licenses and equipment running. He’d smiled, rueful and exhausted at you. Doesn’t matter. They still hate it. They hate you. They’re going to get in your face, some might follow you around outside of this - but they’re all talk.

It’s the ones who try to keep things quiet you need to worry about.

You can hear it faintly - voices. They aren’t ones you’re familiar with. And they sound so angry. The words are difficult to make out, but you think you can make out a few words.

Mostly because they’re ones you’ve heard about a hundred times before.

Always going to be a threat, the voices say.

Ticking time bombs.

Meat droids.

Dangerous. Murderers.

And then you hear words you’ve never heard before, and you feel a ripple of panic course through everyone around you.

Burn this place to the ground for welcoming them.

Syd’s voice is raised, angry, furious. You feel echoes of it in your chest, a building pressure in your skull. But those are wisps now. Tendrils of barely there smoke.

Because what burns you now is fear. It’s suffocating, all encompassing, it’s --

“Fuck.”

Vee pulls you further back when you see it. Smoke slowly creeps through the cracks under the sealed door. Terror grips you, and you wrench away from her. The look of hurt barely registers when you turn, looking frantically around the walk-in fridge for something. Anything. That same frantic search takes everyone else, and for a few terrifying seconds, the air in the room seems to get thinner.

Then the door flies open, and at some point you moved back to the door.

And you’re staring down the barrel of a blaster. It drops a half-second afterward, and you see the familiar sight of a t-shaped visor.

“C’mon, move it!”

You can’t help it: you flinch when hands grab you again, hauling you out. The familiar helmet - Thorn, you recognize belatedly - tilts slightly to one side, minute movements. And then you’re being dragged out with everyone else, ushered with urgency and efficiency that is terrifying in its own right.

The urgency is understandable - you barely recognize the cafe through the smoke that hasn’t been sucked out of the filtration systems. The back of house is trashed, all of the product on all shelves thrown to the ground. One shelving unit has been ripped out of the bolts in the walls and blocks the way back to the lobby. Scorched pockmarks and streaks of blackened paint marr the walls, and you’re glad for the fact that the light system being off.

Because when you recognize the marks of blasterfire, you don’t want to be able to tell if the liquid splattered on the wall or pooling on the floor in places is blood.

This used to be your safe haven. You met most of your friends here. The ones that stuck around, at least. And now it looks…you’re not sure how it looks. It’s not like anything you’ve ever seen. The sight of it is so jarring, you barely notice the smoke in your lungs until your coughing makes you stumble. Someone has to help you the last few steps out. You’re on the doorstep out the back when you’re pulled in again, hard plastoid digging at your back at awkward angles.

Later, you know it was just instinct. That doesn’t make the guilt, the frustration or panic abate any after the fact. At the moment the latter are at their peak, so the way you thrash in the hold of strong arms is wild and animalistic. Your elbow connects with a gap in pieces of armor, and you feel the grip on your waist release instantly, giving you the opportunity to twist and shove before you spin around and --

“Fox?!”

“Hey, mesh’la,” he grumbles, shaking out his hand and flexing his wrist. The visor tilts in your direction in what you know is an amused look. “Anybody ever tell you that you’ve got a mean elbow? Nearly broke my --”

“Where were you?”

There’s a thick, heavy pause as he draws up to his full height slowly. It’s unbearable, and you’re not sure which is worse. The fact that you could hear the resentment, the anger in your voice, or the fact that you know it is in equal measures justified and misplaced.

You decide quickly that the worst part is he showed up at all.

“Don’t do this, mesh--”

“Don’t you boss me around like I’m one of your fucking men,” you hiss, glaring at his helmet for a few seconds before wheeling around and storming out the cafe.

Everything is a blur. You’re angry, hurt - really hurt, you’ve got a splitting headache that builds and builds and builds the closer you get to your speeder. But most of all, you’re scared, and you can’t wrap your head around any of this. You’re shaking, and you don’t notice that until you try to run your hand over your face. Lights flash and sirens blare and you cut through the crowds that have formed around the cafe, feeling the shocked and curious gazes pinned on you when they see the state of you.

It’s only when you pass in front of one of the windows that you see why. Your outfit is covered in ash, torn in more than one spot along the right side of your body. And you’re crying.

Because of course you’re crying.

It doesn’t even feel fair. This isn’t about you. You know that. This is what those people stand for, what a majority of the fucking Republic stands for. It’s sickening, and it fills you with a new kind of self loathing, but still. You’re crying.

Sobbing, really, when you struggle with your helmet, knees giving out. This time when hands reach out and catch you, you don’t flinch.

You knew he would follow you.

When he fails to bring you back up to your feet, Fox sinks down with you. His gruff voice gets a little wobbly at the end, and that wrings a fresh wave of tears out of you. Speaking low through the vocoder, helmet tilted close enough that you can hear him. But far enough away that anyone watching won’t think anything untoward is happening between you.

“I’m sorry - you have to stay.” When you shake your head, his hands squeeze gently. “Please, listen to me. We need a statement.”

“Of fucking course,” you spit out, trying to shove Fox’s hands away. Your skin crawls under your clothes - his touch has never made you feel like this. But is it really him? Or the minutes spent in that fridge thinking you’d never see him again? Which also makes you feel selfish, because everyone was scared, and everyone could have died and -

“Cyar’ika?” Fox sounds rattled, which isn’t something you’ve ever heard coming from him. His hands fall away after a moment as you feel him desperately trying to search your expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Syd.” Your unfocused vision sharpens when it lands on the entrance, and to your complete horror you see a stretcher being pulled out. And it’s covered. “Syd, is he - where are they?” Fox’s helmet turns away from your sharply after a beat, and now you reach out to him. Fingers scrabbling at his armor as you try to pull yourself closer, but he stands abruptly, leaving you in a heap on the duracrete. “Fox - please. Please, tell me they’re okay.”

“I can’t, mesh’la, I don’t - the regs.”

“Fuck the regs!” The world spins wildly on its axis when you stand up, but you don’t care. Your heart is thundering in your chest, your whole body quaking with something you cannot and dare not name. It’s something like fury, but it’s also terror. But deep down, you know.

You just know.

“Please, just come with me, and we’ll - I’m going to find him, mesh’la.”

“So they’re not dead?” There’s another pause before he turns his helmet away from you, the rest of his body following the movement as he storms back to the ruined shell that was once the cafe. Moments ago you wanted nothing more than to run away from him, and now you find yourself stumbling over your own feet to catch up to him. “Fox, come on, give me something, anything. They’re my best friend, I need - please, I just --”

You don’t get the rest of the words out, your knees buckling again as you fall for the second time that night. But this time, Fox is there to catch you. It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s too late.

“We’re going to find him.”

Fox’s voice comes from far away - but you can almost feel the sincerity in his words. His hands squeeze at your shoulders before he lifts one, and he goes silent for a while. You stare vacantly at the juncture of where his blacks don’t cover the underside of his jaw, the sliver of skin that shows between the seals. You reach up and run the back of your knuckles against his skin.

He’s warm - the safe kind of heat. It twists at something under your ribs, equal parts cruelty and a soul-deep affection. This wasn’t about you - this was about him. About his brothers.

But now they’ve dragged your friend into it, and nothing makes sense anymore.

“You were supposed to be there.”

Fox is holding you. Holding you in a way he never has. Like you’ll break. But you’re already broken.

It’s funny - now you two have that in common, too.

“I know.” His voice is off again, but now it comes from his throat in a dry, achy rasp. “There was - something happened. I can’t tell you. But I wanted to be here, mesh’la, maybe then I could have…I wouldn’t have…” His chest lifts and falls sharply, and the words come from Fox so low you know he’s turned off all of his comm channels so only his vocoder picks up his voice. “Please tell me what I can do. There has to be something I can do.”

“Bring Syd home,” you say, though it sounds more like you’re begging. Fox stares at you in silence for a few moments, then nods with a sense of finality.

He sits with you where you fell until they let you go home, and when the artificial sunlight filters through the blinds the next morning, he’s still holding you.

Neither one of you slept.

Taglist: @seeking-kharis, @lackofhonor, @jabbas-lightsaber, @rain-on-kamino, @thefanficsideblog

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#Caf Delivery Service #Commander Fox x Reader #Commander Fox x Barista!Reader #Syd #Vee #Barista!Reader #boohoobitch.txt #ouch.txt #this one took a lot out of me #idk if I'm out of hiatus but shrugs #thanks nonners

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the-amazing-spider-bi · 2 years

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what are your thoughts on spidey!viktor hargreeves au?

an ask about my two blorbos? on the blorbo blog? thank you so much

i’m really intrigued by this because at first, viktor doesn’t seem like the most likely spidey!hargreeves. his relationship to his powers is more like the ones wanda or jean grey have (in season one he was pretty much the trope of the powerful woman with emotion-based powers out of control). but actually, he’s closer than any of the other tua characters to the initial characterization of spider-man in comics (with peter parker as a “Midtown High’s only professional wallpaper”). plus it asks the interesting question of: what if viktor had had powers that weren’t wildly overpowered and (initially) unpredictable?

i think viktor — as a teenager probably still going by vanya — would be angstier than peter parker about it. initially he wouldn’t want to use his powers because he doesn’t want to be more of a weirdo: he already feels like a freak every day, no need to climb up walls on top of that.

then his great responsibility moment happens. maybe his beloved uncle pogo dies. or maybe it’s something different. maybe in this universe too he meets leonard. leonard finds out about his powers by accident, and tries to convince him to be a superhero. he’s viktor’s first friend, and he’s talking about how he’s not a freak, he’s special, and why not believe him, right? and then it goes the way spider-man stories go: he gets his hands on a sample of viktor‘s blood somehow, by persuasion or by trickery, and he turns into the green goblin, and he dies tragically, because that’s what heroes need. after that, as a hero, viktor becomes wildly unpopular for causing the death of an innocent high schooler who did nothing wrong, but he also becomes spider-man. (probably a lot of gender elation comes with the media calling him that, which is tempered by the fact that half of these articles seem to hate him.) his identity remains secret, but he starts being spider-man for real. (and more importantly, he starts being viktor.)

other thoughts: i hate to say it, but sissy is like, textbook his gwen. also it would be really fun if the other hargreeves were either 1) part of the avengers which spider-man is weary of because they keep taking him for a villain or 2) in an fantastic four-style group that spider-man worked with occasionally and envied for their good publicity (unlike his terrible one). i’m thinking ben, klaus, five and allison in fantastic four and luther, diego and the sparrows in the avengers. as for reginald…. well, he would make a great kang, wouldn’t he?

also not featured: in spider-gwen, listening to music helps her deal with venom so that she can actually have that universe’s venom on her without going all murderous and stuff. it would be so fitting for viktor’s spider-man and a way to incorporate music and sound in his story in some way. plus, viktor in a band. come on.

#thanks for the ask babe!!!!#tua #the umbrella academy #spiderboy #léa talks #asks #ask #anon #also not feature: five as mr fantastic; ben as mr invisible or the thing; klaus as the torch; allison as… ms invisible or the thing?#i think ms invisible is more fitting for umbrella!ben but the thing doesn’t quite fit allison either #maybe she would be an avenger then #maybe luther would be…… a good the thing #or a captain america—but hot take: allison as cap. that’s it that’s my take #diego would be great either as a hawkeye in the avengers or as a daredevil #mayhaps in the defenders with lila <3

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13solo · 3 years

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Oh!! I really like Belphie and Rene having a toxic friendship! I feel like that's not something that's done often. Talking to each other through dreams is also vv good. I think maybe if the devs weren't so hesitant to like define character abilities we could've had that in canon and it would've been s w e e t. Does their relationship ever improve? In the Rene x Belphie au is that a healthy relationship? Does he still murder her in the au?

When did Rene first know she liked Mammon? Did she make the first move? What's she like when she has a crush?

Does she grow out of her apathy? V valid if she doesn't of course. I'm enjoying thinking about the dynamic between a apathetic mc and Mammon!

(okay yes this is more questions, you don't have to answer them if it's too much skskssjd. I am so curious though!!)

NO FORREAL I LOVE LIKE. mc relationships with belphie before his sudden change of character after lesson 16 @cosmosrival has a really good mcbelphie ship with a similar premise and i love it to death. making him worse instead of better ❤️

but yes! their relationship does improve a lot, but it takes awhile. like. a Long while. belphie doesn’t actually kill her in her canon, but he gets super close. lesson 16 pans out a lot differently in my head just because of a lot of changed lore i tossed around for her to try to make her stand apart from solmare’s interpretation of mc.

the thing about rene is that i intended her to be a sort of foil to belphie? theyre both strong carriers of sloth, they both lost someone close to them, they both have extremely tumultuous relationships with their family, and they’re both at this stage where they kind of stopped caring enough to try to improve their lives and instead remain stagnant in their misery because its something they’ve grown too comfortable in.

i think what changes about that is rene actually comes out of her shell bit by bit thanks to the brothers, so she ends up learning the value of putting one foot in front the other. after the confrontation with belphie (which happened cus she tried talking him out of his whole “ruin the exchange program” plan, something she actually encouraged throughout their interactions but like thats a WHOLE nother can of worms), they kind of have like a hard reset where they both try to start from the beginning and help each other through their mutual toxic traits instead of feeding into them

also her ship au with belphie is pretty. um. chaotic. its a lot more similar to canon than not, but the huge difference is how they start having romantic feelings for each other throughout the whole mutual enabling cycle, which ends up making them spiral way worse than normal. im actually really not sure the direction this au goes because it goes a LOT of different ways depending on my mood when i think out scenarios, but its definitely my more angstier one.

btw i really hate how much i accidentally made them sound like veronica and jd from heathers here?

but about mammon, rene is JUST as stupid and in denial as he is BFMXNFK. it probably takes her Awhile to actually pinpoint what her feelings are and realize that she has a crush on him. i dont know if an actual verbal confession happens on her end, but she’s a lot more open about her crush than he is. she’s more touchy and openly affectionate with him, and WAY more violently protective of him than is probably even remotely necessary. like one of the brothers could sneeze on him a few rooms over and she just busts in like

and about her apathy, yes! she becomes a lot more visibly relaxed and happier as the exchange program goes on and she starts creating new bonds and coming out of her shell. shes also Just as chaotic as the rest of the boys are and has a lot of fun causing mischief with them. she smiles more too, which is really noticeable because her resting bitch face was literally glued into a >:/ for like most of the gotdam year

her personality is still sort of largely the same though. i feel like the best way to describe it is you can tell she’s visibly happier by her actions rather than her attitude ? the devil-may-care attitude stays, and she’s still really lethargic and lazy. she’s just a lot more in control of herself and way less self-destructive and hateful, if that makes seeense?

#also thanky ouu for tjaking interest i actually wasnt expecting anyone to read it #which is actually completely fine like i said i just needed to throw my Thots out on a keyboard so they arent about to explode in my head #but the fact that anyone actually read and took interest was 😭🥺#btw i love u.#rene

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andrea-lyn · 3 years

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instead of six sentence sunday, accountability check in on fics:

jamie & ted lasso gen fic - edited, needs a touch of format cleaning and will be posted (tuesday? I think)

pynch hands fic - done! needs editing, voice checks, and formatting clean up; hoping to post in the next two weeks?

cowrites - chugging along, both malex, both ideas I love

old guard canon divergence au - this one’s a long haul fic because it’s going to transpire over the last 1000 years, and it’s an au take on ‘what if Joe settled in Tunis and Nicky settled in Genoa and didn’t see each other for 900+ years’ and as much as I want to just condense it, it deserves to be long

pynch dream baby - also a long fic that I will just keep feeding snippets to christi for. angstier than it sounds, because it’s meant to explore ‘we are not our fathers’ as a general theme in practice. involves a lot of ronan + fox way and less adam than you might think

trc inception au - it’s canon compliant! it’s...another long fic, because I guess I want to torture myself with them. whatever, I love it, adam’s a forger, gansey’s the architect, ronan’s the mark, it’ll be fun

ted lasso crackfic - I don’t want to give too much of this one away other than to say it has my favourite piece of dialogue since I wrote ‘booker is a very tired salmon’ in the prose of the gay bar fic

miluca fic - the meta that I have wanted to write about how the love triangle could’ve been an actual love triangle in s1 never quite happened, so I’m gonna write it in fic instead

malex fic - YEAH, I had an idea, I’m shocked too. it will involve deep sky, jealousy, and undercover

trc canon divergence - you know I love me some canon divergence. this one is a look at ‘what if declan saw the writing on the wall and bolted before niall’s untimely end’, with matthew ending up at monmouth instead. it’s still very new and see above re: long fics that will take me forever

and you know, my two original novels. for that, the in progress one still needs cleaning up on chapters 2 & 3 before I can write more, plus some character work and the other one just needs a proper outline beyond my notes about ‘ghost murder mystery + ghost lottery’

#sunday is for writing #or just talking about writing #lbr #yes I like to ramble about these #better than writing #am i right #not listed here is the joe/nicky crackfic I haven't decided if I want to write

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pocketmouse18 · 3 years

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Thank you so much to @herosofmarvelanddc @cloudypaws and @mtab2260 for the tag! This was so much fun to think about :)

(fair warning, I wrote too much for many of these...)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Just 2 :)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

450,577 if I did my math right!

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Officially? Just 1 - Agents of Shield (two, I guess, if you count MCU as separate, since I use characters from both...). Off the record, many more than that! I have lots of bits and bobs from other fandoms that I tinkered with when I was younger, still getting the hang of writing, not brave enough to post things, etc. etc. Some of those include X-Men, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, the Fosters, Star Wars, the Hunger Games, the 39 Clues, and a few others I can’t remember. None of those will likely see the light of day, mostly because they’re unfinished, not very good, and just not reflective of who I am as a writer anymore, but they were fun to play around with at the time :)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I just have the two, but The Important Thing is to Try wins, hands down, with 1227. Shoulder to Shoulder has 95, though, which I’m also very proud of! Important Thing has a definite advantage, being as long as it is, so I don’t know if that’s really a fair comparison between them.

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! Or at least, I always try to! I just can’t believe someone would be kind enough to take the time to tell me what they thought of my story, so I always want to take the time to thank them and return the favor :) Plus, as I’ve learned, it’s a fantastic way to get to know some really lovely people!

6. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Well... I technically only have one story that has an ending, at least on Ao3, and it’s not an especially angsty one, since it ends in Phil and Melinda getting married :) I have some angsty chapter endings in Important Thing, if that counts? I’m not even sure if any of my unpublished fiddlings have angsty endings (most don’t have endings at all lol)... I don’t mind writing angst, but I don’t know if I’m capable of making something without a happy (or at least hopeful) ending.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've ever written?

Not really, unless you count AoS/MCU crossovers (which I guess technically count, but also I would argue it’s not a true crossover since (and I will die on this hill) AoS is a part of MCU canon). When I was younger I was a fan of playing around with crossover AUs more so than the actual characters crossing paths (so like, what if these characters from XYZ were demigods or went to Hogwarts or what have you, and not so much what would happen if the X-Men met Luke, Leia, and Han on one of their space adventures). I started writing a crossover between AoS and the Marvel Rising cartoon once (which again, not sure if that’s a true crossover, since Daisy was in Marvel Rising, but I digress), where Coulson tasks Daisy to work with Kate Bishop and Rayshaun Lucas to collect and train a team of young Inhumans, starting with Kamala Khan, but I ran out of steam pretty quickly when it got too plot heavy.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t think so. I’ve had some people not understand some choices that I made, but they asked it in a way that I thought was perfectly nice, and I was happy to talk about it with them. Sometimes people get “mad” at me when I cause pain and suffering, but I know that’s all in good fun :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope, not for me. I don’t read it or write it, personally. Writing a kiss is hard enough!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge! Important Thing is probably too long and unwieldy to ever steal :P

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone once asked me on FFN if they could translate Important Thing to Russian, which was basically the coolest thing I’ve ever been asked!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

A fic, no. I’d love to try sometime! I had a friend in college who I co-wrote with A LOT, though, so I know I enjoy that process, given the right partner. We wrote several short plays together (ranging from ~15-50 minutes in length, including one that we wrote in a single afternoon!), selected scenes from a larger (unfinished) play inspired by historical letters we found in an archive that were sent between a man from Massachusetts serving in the American Civil War, his wife, and his 8-year-old son, and several scripts for TV sitcoms (2 pilots for 2 different shows, plus additional eps for those pilots, and a couple of later eps for a different show that a classmate of ours wrote the pilot for - we were trying to practice what it would be like to be on a staff with a showrunner haha). The sitcom scripts in particular I’m very proud of, and could talk somebody’s ear off about if asked (one’s about ghost hunters and one’s about a DnD party!), but maybe that’s better saved for another post ;)

13. What's your all-time favorite ship?

That’s a very hard question for me! Mostly because shipping stuff is usually one of the last things to register for me when I’m thinking about shows/books/movies I like haha... I’m always a sucker for Philinda, and younger me was rather taken with Percabeth, I suppose.

14. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Hmm, several, really. The aforementioned AoS/Marvel Rising crossover I think could be really cool if I got it to work, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. I also have a WIP that’s like an angstier version of a Hallmark Christmas movie AU where Daisy has to come home to her small town right before Christmas and figure out what she wants out of life, but I’m a little stalled out on that one, mostly because I’m waffling on who the charming love interest should be and because I don’t have enough of a plot, just lots of feelings about coming back home to a place you thought you had left behind lol.

I’d put Important Thing and it’s (as of yet) untitled sequel on here as things I want to finish, but I’m much more determined to see those through, so I don’t think they qualify for the “never will actually write” part of this question :)

15. What are your writing strengths?

I don’t know if other people agree with this, but I think I write pretty decent dialogue. My “training” (if you can call it that) is in, as you might have figured out by now, script and screenplay writing (those were the only creative writing classes I took in college). So having a sense of the rhythm a conversation needs to have and how to write dialogue that sounds mostly like how people really talk (but shined and tightened up enough so that it’s not actually like verbatim dialogue, which is far less interesting to read!) is something that I feel like comes pretty easily. I also think I do okay with similes and metaphors - my brain tends to work in that way. It’s easier for me to think of stuff (feelings, especially) in terms of comparing it to more familiar things than to just think of the thing directly, if that makes sense?

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

If I was being honest, this would be a very long section, but I know it’s not fun to read a big ol’ paragraph of someone self-criticizing, so I’ll keep it to one or two items ;) A big one for me is pacing, I think. I tend to write more than I need to and to over-explain things, so my chapters get very long and sometimes don’t really go anywhere? Until all of the sudden, they DO, because things need to HAPPEN! I’m a pretty rigorous self-editor, but I do have a really hard time cutting out sections (unless they’re really just not working), so even if it would help the pacing to leave out this conversation between character A and character B, I often can’t make myself cut it. I also think I struggle sometimes with balancing my ‘showing’ and my ‘telling,’ especially in the sense of me over-explaining certain things - like when it comes to feelings/facial expressions/etc, for example. I compensate for that in Important Thing by making it a part of a few people’s POV, but it’s not really a good habit to have in general. Also spelling! I’m really bad at spelling and run my stuff through robust spellchecks and text-to-speech before I post anything to make up for it :)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I do it with some regularity, although I always get nervous about doing it wrong! It’s hard to avoid in AoS, where characters are spies and should (in theory, at least) have a working knowledge of multiple languages (”We’re spies, I thought we all learned languages?!”). Even in an AU, where characters aren’t spies, I like to try and pay homage to that, plus pay homage to certain characters’ native languages or just general multilingualism. I’ve spent a fair amount of time around people who speak more than one language, so I feel like it’s a natural part of groups of people to have more than one language spoken. I have a pretty good handle on written Spanish, a patchy idea of French, plus I know some Russian phrases from my dad and some German words from my grandfather, but I do rely on internet translation a lot. I usually run stuff through google, then run it backwards to see just how far off the initial translation was, then consult some actual, like, language learning sites to see if there’s particular idioms or common phrases that use different words than what google will give me, then run those words through backwards in the place of the original words to see if I can massage the whole thing to sound reasonably competent. Languages like Russian or Mandarin (which have their own alphabets/characters) are the hardest, since I have to also try and do a transliteration. I always try to put an apology/disclaimer in the notes any time I write in a language that isn’t English, because I’m sure I make lots of mistakes.

Also, I tend not to italicize words that are in other languages, because it looks weird on the page to me to set the other language apart like that (and because I italicize mainly for internal thoughts or emphasis, and usually what’s being said in another language isn’t internal or being emphasized). I put a rough translation at the end so we don’t have to pause the story for a parenthetical translation, but because the translation’s not right there, I try to either put in enough context clues that a person can still understand what’s going on, or I make sure that what’s written in another language isn’t critical to the overall understanding of the scene.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Officially, it’s AoS, since that’s the only fandom I’ve published for. I think the first true fandom I wrote fic for was probably either Harry Potter (entirely populated with OCs lol, I just liked using the world/setting), Percy Jackson (a mix of OCs and canon characters), or X-Men (all canon characters). I was a bit of a latecomer to fanfiction, though, like, I wrote a ton as a kid, but mostly original stuff, because I didn’t know that fanfiction in its current form was even allowed until I was in high school lol.

Oh! I almost forgot one! I’m not sure if this really counts as a fandom, but it’s definitely the earliest version of fanfic I wrote haha... I was like 12 and I wrote more than one story of an OC joining Robin Hood’s band of Merry Men, and then also one of that same OC becoming a knight of the Round Table, so like... do what you will with that information haha.

19. What's you're favorite fic you've written?

I can’t choose between my two darlings :( I mean, okay, technically it’s probably Important Thing. That story’s my baby. It’s huge and I’ve been working on it for almost 2 years, and I’ve poured a lot of my heart and soul into it. I’ve fallen in love with the universe I built in it, so much so that I wrote an entire prequel and have very concrete plans for a lengthy sequel. But I can’t not crow about Shoulder to Shoulder (the aforementioned prequel!), too... I’m just really proud of that one - it has a lot of firsts for me. First completed story. First romance-focused story. First foray into expanding the Important Thing universe. But yes, if I have to choose, then Important Thing wins. That’s a story that I started writing exclusively for myself - to give myself characters I could relate to and to explore a style of AoS fic that I loved reading - and that’s a story I will always and forever be proud of.

I think most people have probably answered this tag game at this point, so I don’t want to accidentally retag anyone! If you haven’t yet, and would like to join in, please do! This is your invitation <3

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queen-iduna-of-arendelle · 4 years

Text

Forgotten

@marimancusi You wanted to see it, here it is. Although in my head it was way angstier than I was able to type down...

Major Spoilers for Dangerous Secrets! AU where Iduna let Pabbie make her forget about Agnarr.

AO3 ff.net

After nearly freezing to death and having had dreams of her childhood, Iduna was glad to still be alive and that the Trolls found her. She was still on a mission after all. “What are you doing out here, dear?“ Asked Bulda worried. “It's too cold for humans.“ No kidding...if she didn't find this cave she would've been an icicle right now.

“I was looking for you.“ Said Iduna, looking at Pabbie. “I want you to make me forget Agnarr.“ The Trolls all gasped in shock about her request.

But it was again Bulda who talked. “But why? Did you forget what we told you? You'll marry and have two daughters...“

“Stop that!“ Iduna yelled frustrated. “Stop. I don't believe anything you say! Agnarr has to marry a princess! That's what the council wants. And I know I can't stand there and let it happen.“ She just knew it. Seeing Agnarr with someone else would break her beyond repair. “I want to forget. We knew our charade needed to stop eventually. This secret relationship of ours meant nothing!“ Liar. She was a liar. This relationship with Agnarr meant everything to her. But it's because of this that they needed to stop right now! The king and princess of Vassar will come here and maybe she'll be the one Agnarr will marry. Or he'll entertain countless princesses till he found the one. It could never be her. “Please, just let me forget!“

The Troll's looked at each other worried, but in this moment Iduna really didn't care. It's her decision after all. “Is this really what you want?“ Asked Pabbie worried.

“Yes. Please.“ The old Troll looked into her eyes for a few seconds, before giving in.

“Okay...“ Bulda and the other trolls weren't very happy about it though and started arguing. But Pabbie told them that if Iduna was sure, they shouldn't stop her. At least someone was on her side. They fell silent as Pabbie came closer to her. “I can remove the memories of him in your head, but not in your heart.“ Yeah, she remembered what he once said to the ice harvester that day...“It's still going to hurt, like a phantom pain but you won't know why. And if you see him it will only get worse.“ He warned her. She knew the risks. But this was the only choice.

“I know. It's okay, though. We both need to move on. I'm just taking the first step.“ A drastic step. But what else was she supposed to do? They will get hurt eventually, so not forgetting him will only delay the inevitable.

“It can be possible that your heart makes you remember if you're confronted with too many memories...“ He kept warning her and Iduna tried not to roll her eyes at that.

“Agnarr won't come to my place, I'm sure. He thinks I'm gone for good. And even if, he'll back off once he sees I can't remember. This is the only way for us to have a happy ending.“ Iduna argued, ignoring the worried looks from the Trolls.

Pabbie sighed and took a step closer to her. “Okay...come closer.“ Iduna leaned down for Pabbie to put his stony hand on her forehead. She closed her eyes and already felt the changes. Something's being removed from her memories. Instead of all the memories where she hung out with her best friend, she only remembered being all alone. As soon as Pabbie was done, Iduna felt a weird pang of loss in her heart. It hurt. She's never experienced this kind of pain before.

The girl opened her eyes and looked around the group of Trolls. “What...am I doing here?“ She asked, trying to remember why she left her home and was now in a cave with the Trolls she once encountered.

“You got lost.“ Said Pabbie with a sad voice. “We found you in time.“

Iduna had no other choice but to believe him. She did remember going out of Arendelle in a hurry, but she couldn't remember the reason for it. “I see. Thanks for your help.“

The old Troll nodded. “You're welcome. Now go home, before another snow storm comes.“

At his words, Iduna grabbed her belongings and got on her wobbly feet. “Yeah...thank you.“ And with that said, she left the little cave and made her way back to Arendelle.

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

A few days later Lord Peterssen came to her house, to tell her the people will be asked questions, even about their past. Not good for someone trying to keep her past a secret. He reminded her to keep her secret at all cost, but when he mentioned someone called Agnarr, his voice was all but some background noises.

The pang she felt in her heart when she talked with the Trolls returned. She had no idea who this Agnarr was, but just at the mention of his name her heart beat faster. Painfully fast. As if it wanted to jump right out and go to this guy. “Iduna, are you listening?“ Peterssen's question brought her back to reality.

“Yes.“ She answered immediately, maybe too fast. “Yes, don't worry, I'll keep my secret.“

“That's not what I was asking you.“ He said, frowning. It was very obvious that she didn't listen to him and there only a 50/50 chance she'll guess right.

“Sorry. But don't worry, okay? Nothing bad will happen, I promise.“

Peterssen sighed, but it seemed like he's letting it go. “Okay. Be careful.“

“Always.“ She promised and followed him to the door. When he stepped out, she closed the door behind him and started pacing around her house.

Who was this Agnarr guy? Why was her heart beating so fast at the mention of a stranger's name? And why did she care so much? This was very frustrating...Though, she didn't have enough time to think about it, as someone knocked on the door. Did Peterssen forget something? But as she opened the door, she immediately saw that it wasn't Peterssen. It was another guy dressed in black and a hat pulled down to hide his eyes.

Iduna frowned at the stranger. Was this one of the guys Peterssen warned her about? Will he ask her out all kinds of things now? “We need to talk.“ He said in a commanding done and just waltzed into her house like it was no big deal. His tone already sparked some annoyance in her, but him just walking in was too much. That voice though...She closed the door as soon as he stepped in and when she got a closer look on his face, her heart skipped a beat. Or two. Maybe a lot more. Actually, she felt like getting a heart attack. Although she didn't know why. And then there's was this weird longing...Why would she react like that to a stranger?

“Excuse me?“ Iduna glared at him, annoyed beyond believe. Not just about the fact he's behaving but also her reaction to this random guy.

He turned to and took off his head, revealing his strawberry blonde hair. And for some reason Iduna felt the need to run her fingers through this mess. Then his eyes became gentler, making her heart skip once again. “I need to talk with you.“

The brunette tried to not let her emotions show on her face. “How about you tell me who you are and why you're just walking into people's houses like that?!“

The man frowned. “What are you talking about?“

“What I'm talking about? You just went into my house like you own it and I'm not okay with that obviously! Who do you think you are?!“ His words visibly hurt him. He looked at her in complete shock, the hurt in his eyes was unbearable to look at. Something tugged at her heart, like she could feel his pain.

“You're kidding me...right?“ He asked, there was still some hope in his voice. But she really had no idea that he was talking about.

“Do I look like I'm making jokes here?“

His expression became desperate and that tugged at her heart strings again. “You...really don't know who I am?“ He asked, searching her face for something. What, she didn't know.

“No. I just told you, didn't I?“ Despite the weird feelings she had and the stronger they became the longer he stayed here, he was still very annoying. He was still not telling her who on earth he was, but at the same time something in her told her she already knew him. But that couldn't be.

The man kept looking at her like this for a minute, or two. Still desperately searching for something. “Did you go to the trolls?“ He asked eventually. A weird change of topic.

“You know the trolls?“ She asked back, thinking back how she found a map in the castle after her lesson and went to their home. She wasn't quite sure what made her go there. In fact, she didn't remember what she's been talking about with them. Only that she was there alone, spoke with them and then returned to Arendelle. There was a big chunk of her memories missing there...How long has it been since she went there?

She didn't have time to think about it, though, as the stranger stepped closer to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Iduna, please don't tell me...“

The young woman frowned. Right, how did he even know her name? What kind of guy was he. “How do you know my name? Can you just tell me who you are?“

He looked broken now. Completely broken. And were there...tears in his eyes? Iduna felt her heart being cut in two in this instant. There was a strange longing to hold him. To...kiss him. Of course she did none of that. “I'm Agnarr.“ He finally said. So this was the guy Peterssen was taking about.

“Agnarr...“ She mumbled, trying out how it sounded. And it sounded very familiar. Felt familiar on her tongue. But that only raised more questions.

“We're best friends...“ He continued, his grip on her shoulders tightened slightly. “We've been together since we were kids. We have a relationship.“ Iduna frowned, not remembering any of that. One of them was definitely crazy here. “Did you go to the trolls to forget?“

She thought back to the day where she found them. Right, there was an ice harvester who wanted to forget about her husband. And she went to the trolls because...why? There was something she wanted from them. And then this snow storm happened. And she almost died out there. The next day the trolls found her and...told her to go back. There was something missing again.

Iduna was quiet the whole time, trying to put her memories in order and that seemed to confirm his suspicion. “Iduna, why did you do this?“ It looked like he couldn't hold back the tears anymore. There was that pull again. The longing. The urge to whipe his tears away and calm him. “I know I've been a jerk back in the castle...and I'm sorry! I really am! But going to the trolls...I just wanted to protect you. I know I shouldn't have said what I said, but I just wanted you to stay with me.“

Thinking back, she remembered being in the castle. Something was annoying her. Was it something Peterssen said? No...Agnarr said it was something he said. But she couldn't remember him being in the castle. She couldn't remember him at all.

So he was either just a crazy person, or what he said was true. That they actually knew each other since forever and that she went to the trolls to forget. But why would she do that? If these weird feelings in her heart were true as well, then why did she throw it away like that? “Why were you at the castle?“ Agnarr looked like he expected this question from her, but it didn't make him look any less hurt.

“Well...I'm the prince.“ At that her eyes widened. She was best friends with the prince?! Had a relationship with the prince?! What kind of relationship anyway? Platonic? Romantic? Well, the was he looked at her and the way her heart hurt, she could guess it was romantic. But how on earth did she do all this? And now that she thought about it...As a citizen of Arendelle she should know the prince, but she couldn't remember anything at all. “Iduna...please give me another chance. Come with me to the castle, maybe it can help you remember.“

Hope made it's way in his eyes, but...“No.“ In mere seconds the hope in his eyes vanished without a trace and the familiar desperation and hurt came back.

“No...?“

Iduna had to turn away from him, before her body did anything she'd regret. “Look...Whatever happened...I surely had a valid reason to forget. Whether is was for your sake, or mine...I don't know. But I surely thought it's something that had to be done.“

“Iduna—“

“Please.“ She interrupted him harshly. “Please leave.“

They both stood there for a minute —or two— in silence. Iduna just waited for him to leave, her back still turned to him. And he...Maybe he was thinking about how to convince her, what things he had to do to make her come with him and remember again. But then she heard him sigh. “Iduna...“ She waited for him to continue, but it could be that he didn't know how to say it. “I'm sorry, I can't and don't want to forget.“ He finally said after another silent minute. “I don't want to give up on you just yet. I can't. But I'll respect your decision for now. I'll uh...give you some time. But I'll be back. Please think about it...I can't live without you, Iduna. You're my light...“

His speech brought tears into her eyes. It made her think why she chose to forget if she knew all that...And at his last words, she felt the need to tell him that he's her life, but she bit back the words. Now where did that come from? He sighed at her silence and then slowly walked towards the door. “Agnarr!“ They were both surprised at her outburst. He stopped at and looked at her. There it was again. The hope. Iduna bit her lower lip to prevent herself from saying anything stupid and quickly turned away from him again. “N-nothing!“

“Okay...See you later.“ And with that he left her house. As soon as the door closed her legs gave away and she fell on her butt. She took a deep breath, but it felt like she couldn't get enough. As if she was unable to breath now with him gone. And why did she hold him back? Well now she had the time to think about it. It really made her curious why she decided to forget. When they were so in love...had a great relationship...But he was a prince. Surely their relationship was forbidden. Was that the reason? Because she knew she could never move on? It kinda made sense in a way. But the pain, the loss, the longing, everything was still in her heart. Even her body reacted on its own. Why couldn't they all just listen to her mind and forget?

But what was worse? Being hurt and knowing exactly why or be oblivious? She didn't know. Should she let him try to regain her memories or should she stay away like she obviously planned to do? Some big decisions needed to be made.

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

Just like Agnarr promised, he gave her some time to think about everything. But still, when they saw each other Iduna then she hasn't decided yet. But he came with an okay solution. “Listen...How about you come with me to the castle. Go to the places we've always been. And if it's too much for you...if you really...Don't want to remember...and don't want to stay with me...I'll accept that.“

“Yeah...we can do that.“ And there it was again. His hope. She didn't like that at all. Really, she hated having to crush his hopes over and over again.

“Okay.“ Iduna saw he was trying to hold back his enthusiasm. He looked like he wanted to drag her right into the castle and do his damn best to make her remember. But that's still a thing she'll decide later that day. The walk to the castle was already engraved into her brain, so were all her favorite places inside. But something was pulling her into the library. Well, she did love it there, but there was something else. Agnarr followed her close behind and didn't say anything. He just let her do her thing.

She stopped by the statue of Nokk and activated with it the secret from to another part of the library. Where mostly books about magic and folklore and blueprints hid away from the world. Iduna remembered having found this place by accident. By...running around the library all alone? No, something was missing. She guess Agnarr must've been there with her. “So you remember the secret library.“ Agnarr's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “We found it together.“ Just as she expected. Iduna walked through the into the secret library, Agnarr followed close behind. She remembered having spent a lot of time here. Alone. But they were all so blurry that she had no idea what she did here all this time. “We had our first kiss here.“ He continued, when he saw her frown. “We spent lots if time here together. Hiding our relationship from everyone...“

Iduna decided to say nothing, just take everything in. And then she walked out again. There was another important place for her. She heard Agnarr's steps right behind her, trying to catch up when she started running at some point. The brunette led them outside to a big tree. And without a second thought, she started climbing on it. Then she chose a branch high up and sat on it. It's just like the library. She remembered everything about it, but obviously not about Agnarr. Though, when she looked down to see him climbing up as well..she suddenly remembered a boy trying the same but failing. He couldn't even get to the first branch and she always laughed at him for being so bad at climbing. “You couldn't climb when you were a kid.“ She said, since he was close enough to hear her mumbling.

The prince looked at her in surprise, before nodding his head. “That's right. You taught me how to climb.“ She was already starting to remember again, but did she even want that? Once Agnarr said next to her on the same branch, she spoke again. “I was thinking...“ The blonde just looked at her in silence and waited for her next words. “You're a prince. I don't think a prince is allowed to be with a commoner.“

He nodded and looked away. “Yeah...that's why we kept it a secret.“ Just as she thought. That was the reason she forgot. For sure!

“Then you know having a secret relationship wouldn't last.“ Iduna caught him biting his lower lip. She was right. “That's the reason I went to the trolls then. I'm sure. Maybe you do the same. Move on.“

His reaction was immediate. “No!“ He practically screamed, turning back to her and gripping her shoulders. “I don't want to move on! And even if, you'd still be in my heart forever. Just like I'm still in yours. Right?“ He was right. But it didn't change their situation.

“What else do you want to do then?“ She asked, looking away from him. “This is better than...“

“It's not! Forgetting or moving on from my true love is not an option.“ Okay, she admitted it, he was extremely cute. And a dork.

“So what do you want to do?“ That was still the question in the room. For Iduna there was nothing they could do. Hence her drastic decision to forget. It wasn't the best idea, though since now the memories slowly returned again...

“Whatever it takes.“ He said, looking at her with such a determination that said he'll sacrifice anything. “Look, if the council doesn't want this, then so what? I'm gonna be king, I can marry whoever I want, right? If there's a law for me to marry a princess then I'll change that! I can do that, right? If nothing works then...Well, if they don't want you to be my queen...then maybe I don't want to be king.“

Iduna blinked at his speech. He's really gonna fight the council, bend laws and refuses to be king just for...her? This brought back more more memories of him joking around to change laws and making new ones. “Well...you wanted to annihilate meetings altogether, right?“

At that he grinned at her brightly. He was obviously beyond happy that her memories returned. “Exactly!“ His grin was as bright as the sun, blinding her. Iduna's body moved on its own again. Before she even realized what she's doing, she kissed him already. She felt his surprise —just like the very first time they kissed— before hastily returning it. Agnarr was pouring all his love into this kiss and all the memories of him, all the kisses they secretly share came flooding back like a dam was broken.

When they pulled apart to breath, she saw him with different eyes. “Agnarr...“ The prince tilted his head and waited for her to continue. Iduna gave him a playful glare and shoved him gently away. “You're terrible! You made me remember everything!“ She teased, it wasn't very effective. Agnarr pulled her into a tight hug and told her many, many times how happy he was that she remembered and made her promises that he won't hurt her ever again and that they'll stay together forever from now on. The troll's magic wasn't very consistent when confronted with the memories...

When he was done with his rambling, he pulled back slightly. “Sadly I can't call off the ball next week...The King of Vassar and his daughter will come here.“

“I see.“

“I want to invite you to that ball. I'm sure Peterssen will want me to dance with her and all that...But I'll tell them that I'm not interested in her. My heart belongs to you.“ Would it be such a good idea for her to go to that ball? Seeing Agnarr dance with a perfect princess? “Hey, stop that.“ He pulled her from her thoughts immediately. Iduna looked up at his eyes, he looked angry. “I know what you're thinking. Stop that. You're better than some princess. Whatever happens, I'd only choose you.“

His words warmed her heart. Gone was the pain from before. There was only warmth left.

#agduna #fanfics #fanfiction #iduna #agnarr #pabbie #bulda #lord peterssen #dangerous secrets #mari mancusi

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thethistlegirl · 4 years

Note

AU, 50K ish with a lot of suffering for Mac, tons of found family, a lot of world building, comfort, and recovery

Ohhhh this sounds a lot like my plans for the winged!Mac AU! I can't wait to actually dive into that one and flesh it out.

I'm excited to work out the whole pre-rescue story, because I plan to start with Jack getting the job as a guard, and go from there, instead of starting out with the actual teaser. Which means we're going to get some sad, lab-experiment Mac to begin with...and even angstier, he's not really aware that this isn't okay. But Jack absolutely is, and he's not going to let this stand.

And...I'm still working out how it's gonna happen, but Mac is definitely going to end up getting recaptured at some point. And when Jack goes to get him, breaking into an even more remote location than the first lab in the process, he discovers three more experimental winged kids, Bozer, Riley, and Leanna, and their handlers, Desi, Charlie, and Sam, who have been planning a break-out of their own, with help from James's second in command, Matty. Cue lots of found family all around, and Mac feeling less alone finding out he's not the only one like him. And Jack and Co. basically adopting everyone.

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rivalsforlife · 4 years

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For the fanfic ask: F, K, S, X, Y (whichever ones you feel like answering) <3 Love your work!

Alright, thank you!!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

oh no. Uhhh I’m probably going to think of something else like five seconds after posting it haha, but at the moment one of the dialogue scenes I really like is the dinner scene near the end of chapter 4 of The Catch-Up Game (linked here for easy reference). The... whole thing is pretty long and I like a lot of it, so I’ll just share a (relatively?) short snippet form it here:

“You did more than enough, Edgeworth,” Phoenix insisted. “If it weren’t for the Jurist System — founded upon your research — I would’ve never been able to clear up my scandal. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have gotten my badge back at all.”

“The badge wasn’t all there was to it.”

“... Maybe not,” Phoenix admitted. “It’s not like we can change that. And it’s not like I would’ve wanted you to do more. It was difficult enough to accept help as it was. Besides, you’re — you’re here now, aren’t you?”

“Phoenix,” said Edgeworth.

It’s not like it was unheard of for Edgeworth to say his first name. It just… happened so rarely, Phoenix could count on one hand the times he’s heard it since grade school. Only when it was just the two of them, never when they were in some sort of public place.

But… Phoenix really liked the way Edgeworth said his name. It wasn’t like he pronounced it differently, or anything. There was just a sense of hesitance to it, like it was something precious he was holding in his mouth, and speaking it too forcefully would cause it to shatter. His name was all soft syllables, in Edgeworth’s voice which rarely softened anything, and it made Phoenix feel like he fell back into deep water after he’d just regained his footing.

“So much has changed,” said Edgeworth. “Hasn’t it?”

“Mhm, tell me about it,” said Phoenix, sinking back into his chair, trying to stay afloat. “Maya’s the Master of her village, Pearls is looking into college, Apollo’s running his own firm while Athena’s taking on more cases by herself, Trucy’s off on tour… and you, Chief Prosecutor.” He let out a faint, self-deprecating laugh. “Meanwhile it feels like I’m stuck in place. Still the same attorney I was when I started out.”

“I don’t think that’s true, but even if it were, there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” Edgeworth asked. “I hastened towards my position, as it was the best vantage point from which to eliminate corruption. I know I’ve made great changes. I don’t regret my choices, and wouldn’t choose differently, if I had the chance to do them over. But…” He gazed at Phoenix for a long time. “There are things I missed,” he continued, barely audible. “In some ways I’m still stuck, as well, and the thought of moving forward… terrifies me.”

“... I think I know what you mean.”

“Do you?”

Phoenix didn’t answer, lowering his gaze to where Edgeworth’s hand rested almost halfway across the table. If he wanted to, he could reach out to hold it. Broad hands that he would trust the world in. But he still didn’t know what it would feel like in his, or what expression would cross Edgeworth’s face if he had the courage to take it.

Edgeworth stared at him with an unreadable expression, almost curious. “Well, you don’t have to say anything,” he said. “What matters most is that I can be here with you now.”

“... Yeah,” said Phoenix. “I agree.”

One of the major difficulties I have in writing, especially writing dialogue, is being Even Remotely Subtle at any given point, because I am an extremely unsubtle person who does not pick up on social cues! This scene though, actually most of this chapter, has to sort of subtly set up the big event at the end of chapter 5, as well as make all of Phoenix’s motivations seem sort of plausible before he actually gives the explanation a little later. Reading it over it wasn’t actually very subtle but for me I think it was a huge step in the right direction haha.

Mainly: Phoenix fears that Miles is going to leave him again, along with everyone else he loves in his life, since everyone is starting to move on ahead without him. He’s only just gotten Miles in his life in a semi-permanent way and is terrified of losing that. Miles, meanwhile, has been so focused on his career his whole life and is just now starting to realize the other aspects of life he’d been missing out on, namely developing his relationship with Phoenix, which he’s slowly starting to work up the courage to make a move on. And they’re both aware now that they love each other (even if Phoenix can’t fully admit it to himself yet), but scared to actually take that step forward, so they tiptoe around the subject even though they both know they’re discussing it... and end up taking wildly different conclusions away from the conversation as a result, which leads to the disaster at the end of chapter 5.

Also I just kind of like how pretty some of it managed to sound, somehow. The description of how Miles says Phoenix’s name is probably one of my favourite lines in the fic haha. Overall, I feel proud of myself any time I think I can pull off a dialogue scene where people don’t say what they mean haha.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Hmm prooooobably the Iris Wright Ace Attorney AU which is the one where Phoenix ends up killed by Dahlia, and to atone, Iris helps put her in jail and then takes on Phoenix’s path as an attorney... which I haven’t really written much for yet, but talked about here a little while ago.

It’s fun and angsty because Iris has to deal with a lot of guilt of pretty much being the downfall of the two people she cared about the most, but you’ve also got Miles, who has his realization that maybe what he’s doing isn’t great so much harder and faster because the realization comes with “when you ignored the truth, it set off a chain of events that caused the death of your childhood friend.”

Phoenix and Miles don’t end up as close in this AU by virtue of Phoenix being dead before they even meet, but Miles learns Phoenix became an attorney to save him -- and was in the courthouse when he met Dahlia because he was studying to become an attorney -- and even though Miles hadn’t spoken to Phoenix in ages, he was still Miles’ first friend and someone he held dear to his heart all those years they were separate (which I do think is true in canon too, but seeing him as an opponent made that less apparent in AA1-Miles), so news of his death indirectly because of Miles hits him pretty badly.

I did write a fic about Miles responding to Phoenix’s letters in this AU during the events of JFA as a way of trying to work through his grief. I was going to post it during the AU day for narumitsu week this year but ended up not doing that since The Catch-Up Game was stressful enough for people haha.

... I can probably come up with angstier stuff if pressed but AA isn’t one of the fandoms I crave a lot of angst for.

OH WAIT NO I looked through my fic ideas doc and saw one that’s basically a DL-6 But Worse AU where Miles dies instead of Gregory -- kind of like The Illusion of Control, which broke me, but plot-related stuff would probably be different. A key part is them somehow managing to solve DL-6 in seven years, so that there’s the thematic parallel of Gregory then taking in Franziska (and raising her well!)

(S I already answered here!)

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

... Apparently Miles Edgeworth? I don’t necessarily like making him suffer, I just think that you can explore many interesting aspects of his character... through his suffering... and given my fics, he’s the one I make suffer the most, so. Does it count as making him suffer if it’s canon that did it first?

Y: A character you want to protect.

Mostly the kid characters who have suffered so much more than they deserve: namely, Pearl and Trucy. Especially Trucy at the moment considering the repulsive stuff people have been writing about her in the aa ao3 tag recently.

#fanfic ask meme #asks

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sothischickshe · 4 years

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IM SO GLAD YOU'RE DOING THIS OK bc i lowkey still cant believe one i went weeks without knowing your ao3 and that im mutual with one of my very favorite fic writers ANYWAY id love bts to filing her nails (like the idea??? WHERE AND HOW) climbing up the walls (im obsessed?) and bringing down the neighborhood bc i love that fic so much i may die

Well filing her nails was partly cos I always love aus where it's still like the show but one thing is changed, I just think that's really fun to explore! A great example being your fic your eyes tell me how much you want me, where rio Is actually the bounce house guy, which I love! And I love reading brio aus (I don't think I've been as drawn to them in other fandoms), but I'd only written one and it was like fairly dark, so I wanted to try something a lil lighter.

And it's partly inspired by the fact that I feel like my rio dialogue often sounds a half inch from an old timey hardboiled detective pulp novel protag, but like... In my defence... The show yknow?

Also I'd run out of good notebooks so I only had one of those flippy teeny ones, you know like cops and whatever use in TV shows? So I got really into it 😂

So yea the nugget was basically, what if Beth had a financially successful business but the dean stuff was all the same, if she suspected he was cheating and whatnot but she wasn't financially trapped in this marriage with him, how would she react? Well I think she'd get drunk and watch Veronica Mars and decide calling up a private investigator was a good idea 😂 so ok, what if rio WAS that private investigator, how would them meeting like that go? And I thought well Beth would be an impulsive loon and rio would be a judgemental bitch but they'd be drawn to each other and also there'd be a messy dynamic but one less messy than the canon one!

I didn't intend to write more chapters, but then afterwards I could kind of see what happened on their not date, and then I was like ok well what would happen from there. Well, Beth would be an impulsive loon and rio would be a judgemental bitch and they'd be drawn to each other and the dynamic would be messy etc etc 😂 it's fun to explore how that might unfold

So climbing up the walls was after I'd written a few fics trying to answer the question of: what is going to happen to get rio and Beth working together or indeed speaking to each other after the s2 finale. Climbing up the walls is more the other camp of, ok, if you handwave that (which the show might do, lol), how would their dynamic look?

And I couldn't see rio being eager to spend time with Beth, or open to flirting with her. And Beth, being an absolute loon who goes fucking feral when rio doesn't want to speak to or hang out with her AND I think is fairly eager to avoid blame/put a happy face on things, I reckoned would be like OK WELL THE RESPONSIBILITY IS CLEARLY UPON MY SHOULDERS TO KEEP THIS UP, LET'S GO.

And I think the only like immediately post s2 rio pov fic I'd written was even the best laid plans which was so much fun, but I kind of wanted to explore an angstier take which acknowledged like trauma (I think at that point I was already fearing the show would kind of handwave a lot to get Beth and rio working together again so I was like better get this out of me first!!)

Ps I love how much you love this fic it's one of my faves ♥

bringing down the neighbourhood actually started life as a fun neighbours au! In many ways inspired by how fucking loud my neighbours are, I swear it sounds like that child is yelling inside my ear SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I WILL GO BACK TO PLAYING HIP HOP SO FUCKING LOUD I SWEAR!!! and I was thinking about it and I was like ok butttttt hold on, what if for Reasons it was canon Beth and rio and then tada

#Fanfiction #Fanfic #Writing #On writing #I guess the bigger and more succinct answer is I like writing about them being obsessed with the other #And being very upset about that fact

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ageless-aislynn · 4 years

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meta ask questions for you! 3, 5, 6, 18, 19, 20, 21 and 25!

Ooo, thanks so much for playing along, hon! I appreciate it! :D

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

You know, I really don't have one. I plan on eventually doing them all, if I can!

5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

Usually Caitlin because she tends to be the one who's lost and Eobard is either deliberately withholding things from her or is in someway messing with her and she's trying to catch up, lol! I do really love pairing her with Harry, though, too, even though their dynamic is different. :D

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

Eobard, definitely. Most specifically, I love getting into his head and getting his p.o.v., like in the "Partners In Crime" series. It's much rarer that I'll give you only Caitlin's p.o.v. and it almost always has a plot reason as to why, such as "The Thousandth and the First." Secondly, though, I adore writing Frost and Nash, especially in all of their oblivious or just straight up "don't care" shenanigans. I still have a particular fondness for "Star-Marked" which was the first time I really got in there and wrote them like that. ;)

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Heh, yes. "*With Benefits" has a completely different version out there. It was originally a lot darker and angstier. It still technically met the "friends with benefits" prompt but, well… Let's just say there's a reason why I started off calling it my "dom!Harry" fic where he's a bit more consensually dominating and aggressive than I generally write him. It still exists and I'm still considering finishing it one of these days. I'll have to decide whether to just basically write it as a second fill for the same prompt (so I don't have to worry about the similarities, since they were the same fic at one time ;) ) or to try to replot it and make it as different as possible. The tone itself is pretty different from "*With Benefits" because I wanted that one to be lighter and funnier than the first fic was turning out. But I think the other tone still has some merit to it. I dunno if anybody’s really down for that alllmost BDSM feel or not. *shrugs* The other fic is titled "Here" so you'll know it if you ever see it. ;)

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

I have a bad habit of using "very" way too often, so I always try to scour my final drafts a final time by doing a find either in Word or in the browser looking to see how many times I've used it. I also inevitably find I fall back on a similar word and over use it in pretty much each fic depending on the circumstance. Like for "Three Little Words," I didn't want to repeat "frozen" and other such icy descriptors but I didn't want to have to go far out to get some unusual/unnatural ones that probably nobody would really think to themselves. ;)

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I don't know if this quite fits but one of my writer friends asked me if it's hard to have so many variations of the same characters and honestly? No, it's not. If you look at just my original ReverseSnow/ReverseFrost pairings, "Partners In Crime" Eo/Caitlin have a different dynamic to me than "Good Day" Eo/Caitlin. "The Ghost of Eobard Thawne" is going to show us a little more obsessed Eobard than my other series!Eobards (some of the one-shots have touched on that before, though). Weirdly, in "Haunted"'s continuing chapters (I swear, y'all will get to read them eventually ;) ), Frost and Eobard have several scenes together and normally that would start pulling me in a ReverseFrost direction. BUT. This particular Frost is just so set on Nash that she's not even tempted and Eo is equally as set on Caitlin, so, while he has no problem needling Frost, Cait is never for a moment not who he has his heart and mind aimed at.

Then you've got something like the ReverseFrost pairing in the "It's All Fun And Games When You're A SuperVillainous Power Couple In Love..." series and it's like there's NO DOUBT they're meant for each other. (This couple feels actually like the more "show-current" version of "Partners In Crime," honestly. "Partners…" is distinguished by my characterization and "rules" for Caitlin/Frost's powers having been drawn more from the comics since we hadn't seen them yet in the show at that time.)

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)

Heh, I think a lot of mine would have to go to a channel where they can show more explicit stuff, like HBO or something, lol! ;)

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

Finishing it, reading it back and thinking, "Yep, that's what I wanted to say," and then getting comments where it sounds like other people enjoyed it. That's definitely the most fun in my opinion! ;)

Thanks again!

♥♥♥

Fun meta asks for writers

#fun meta asks for writers #thanks so much!#missdanielsousa #*hugs*#writing

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louhooo · 5 years

Text

Hello My Old Heart | Chap. 1

Chapter Summary: Your first night back in town

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader [AU]

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, mentions of smoking, angst

A/N: I’ve been writing this for a while, and I’m finally pushing myself to actually post something. I really wanted to make a fluffy firefighter Bucky, but then I started writing and it got a whole lot angstier real quick. Oops 😬 This’ll be a series, but how many chapters is undetermined at the moment. Also, this chapter is long, but I don’t expect every chapter to be this long.

Feedback is very much appreciated! Let me know what you think! 💘

There’s a very specific thing that happens when you return to the town you grew up in. Every change that happened since you left comes barreling to the forefront, making sure you know that life still went on without you there to witness it. The gas station on the outskirt of town finally updated the pumps from the analog to digital. A new stop sign was put near the elementary school, this one equipped with a flashing red light. And it looked like the siding on Peggy’s was new. Or, at least, painted to look new.

But, even with all of the transformations, the old still called out to you.

The marquee was still bright red and flashed the name of the movie that finally made its way to town. You’re pretty sure that movie came out on DVD a month ago. The blue and white banner hung on the back of the bleachers, reminding you that high school football was still the most important thing to the town. And the speed bump two blocks north of the city park reminded you that you were, once again, driving way too fast.

You still weren’t sure if you were sold on any of it, though.

You had taken the long way, opting to take the old highway over the interstate. The old highway was notorious for being the only road anyone over the age of 70 would take when they needed to leave town. The slow traffic always added another half an hour, at least, to the commute. But, for the first time in history, you’re sure, every senior citizen in Esterwind decided not to go anywhere today, and you got into town quicker than you would have if you took the other way.

You had tried killing time in your room at the hotel, but Clint started blowing up your phone, asking when you were going to head to Fury’s. You were tempted to feign fatigue or an upset stomach from the long car ride, but you knew better. If you didn’t drive yourself, a whole group of people would show up at the hotel and drag you out, and claim it was for your “own good.”

A soft rap on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw black aviators and a cheeky smile beaming at you. You grinned back, pulling the keys out of the ignition. One final deep breath and you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and got out.

“Well, hey stranger.”

“Hi, Clint,” he adjusted his hearing aid and you let out a sigh, “I thought when I talked to you last, you promised to get them looked at?” You raised your brows at him, “Or did you already break them... again?” He laughed and took a step before enveloping you in a hug.

“I missed you, smart ass.” You laughed and wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tighter, all of your stress melting away. At least for the time being.

“I missed you, too,” he pulled the two of you apart.

“C’mon. I promised Nat I’d get you inside, so don’t bolt on me,” he started pulling you towards the bar that you’d spent way too much time at as kids. Never to drink, just to hide in the back room and bother Nick. Well, he says you all bothered him, but he also always let you guys in whenever you came around. He said it was better to keep us inside where he could keep his eye on you and keep you all from “terrorizing the neighborhood.”

“Is…?” You swallowed and Clint wrapped his arm around your shoulder and slowed his pace.

“Him and Steve are still at the station, but they’re comin’ later,” you let out a quiet sigh. “It’ll be alright, kid.” You chewed on your cheek. Easy for him to say, you thought. You stepped onto the curb and Clint pulled open the dingy red door. The distinct smell of beer and stale cigarette smoke greeted you. Nick always complained that no matter how many times he painted, it always smelled like smoke.

You joked once that it might have been karma getting back at him for letting people smoke at his bar. He just stared at you until you stopped laughing. You weren’t surprised when he informed you the next time he needed to paint, you would be helping him.

You and Clint both slid your glasses to the tops of your heads, taking in the room. It was loud; people were laughing and Jim Croce was playing on the jukebox. It was bar policy: if you wanted to listen to something from this century, you could take yourself to another bar.

Clint led you towards the back where two familiar faces were already waiting. Sam shot up and gave his charming-as-ever smile.

“Well, shit! Y/F/N Y/L/N!” Clint moved just enough out of the way to make room for Sam. You smiled as Sam wrapped his arms around your waist, unexpectedly picking you up and spinning you.

“Oh my god! Sam!” You let out a surprised laugh as you held onto to him. He set you down and you steadied yourself, “Sammy! What was that for!?” He laughed.

“I’ve only been able to see ya on FaceTime, you’re lucky that’s all I did. My idea for a parade got shot down. Was even gonna make up shirts with your face on ‘em.” You grinned and rolled your eyes.

“Oh, glad to see you’re still dramatic. Here I was thinkin’ it was all for show.” He laughed, making your smile grow.

“Sam, move.” There was very obvious ire in her voice. Sam moved out of the way and Nat came into view, her hair seemingly redder than the last time you FaceTimed her 72 hours ago. She had a brow arched and you gave her a soft grimace.

“Hi, Nattie….” you spoke softly. You had gotten used to just ending the call whenever she started lecturing, but now you were face-to-face and slightly terrified. She rolled her eyes, her shoulders relaxing in the process.

“Oh, come here,” she stepped forward and you hugged each other tightly. “I missed you,” she whispered into your ear. Tears welled and you returned the sentiment.

“Oh, great, you got her crying, Nat,” Clint teased. You dropped your holds and gave each other an understanding look. Nat turned to Clint.

“Don’t be an asshole, asshole.” Clint let out a hearty laugh and slid into the booth section of the table. Nat followed and leaned into his side just like she always did. You watched Clint kiss her temple, and sighed involuntarily.

“I’m gonna get something to drink, you guys good?” You were met with a chorus of “goods!” and Clint telling you to get him a beer. You walked over to the bar and leaned against the counter while you waited. Happenstance had you glance down at the bar top, instantly making your stomach drop. Carved into the wood were the initials JBB and Y/I with a jagged heart etched around it.

“Ya know, if you two hadn’t of done that, I’d probably have a perfectly graffiti-free bar top,” a burly, but kind, voice reverberated in your ears. You looked up and slowly smiled at Nick. He raised his brow, “Let me guess: Bud Light for Clint and… one of those wine coolers for you?” You chuckled softly.

“Clint’s is right, but I’ll have a long island and a shot of tequila.” He gave an amused look and went to make the order. “How ya been, Nick? Any teenagers you givin’ empty threats to?” He chuckled and turned to face you.

“They weren’t empty. Ask Wilson or Romanoff how many times I called their folks. You were just roped into the bad behavior, so I let you off the hook. ” You laughed and faintly shook your head.

“Don’t you know, Nick? It’s always the quiet ones.” He grinned and slid a lime and a shot glass towards you. You shot it back as soon as he was done pouring it, then bit into the lime, putting the rind in the empty shot glass.

“How’s everything for you?” You shrugged, keeping your eyes on the beer bottle in front of you.

“Work is good.” He gave a pointed look while he mixed your drink.

“You know that’s not what I mean….” Your shoulders slumped.

“I… haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know once I do.” He didn’t say anything, just letting out a deep sigh, much like a disappointed parent, and finished making your drink.

He slid it to you, “How long you stayin’?”

“I don’t know yet. We’ll see how long Nat can convince me I should.” You grabbed your wallet, “How much?”

“For you… $9.” You grinned and laid down a twenty.

“Thanks, Nick. Keep the change.”

“$11 for a tip?” He asked amusedly.

“Well, think of it this way: the more I drink, the more likely it is that I’m gonna forget to pay, let alone tip.” He chuckled and grabbed the bill. You grabbed the drinks after stuffing the wallet into your bag, “See ya in a bit, Nick.” You headed back to the table and saw that a blonde had joined. You handed Clint his beer and sat down beside Sam.

Sam slung his arm around you. “So, any chance of you buyin’ me a drink now?” You pinched your brows and looked up at him.

“Dude, I asked if you needed anything and you said no.”

“Yeah, but that was before I finished my drink.” You snorted.

“Sounds like a “you problem” now, bud.” He reached and tugged on your hair, making you gasp. You turned and glared at him.

“Sounds like a “you problem” now, bud.” He parroted back like a bratty kid. You crossed your eyes and glanced at Sharon.

“Hey, lady,” she said with a grin. You huffed out your nose and grinned as you both stood up and hugged each other. “We’ve missed you.” You exhaled softly and squeezed her once more before pulling back and sitting back down.

“I missed you, too, Shar.” You took a sip of your drink, and then another, trying to get a small buzz before the inevitable.

Conversations flowed effortlessly. It was almost like the universe was taunting you with how easy it could have been if you hadn’t left.

Nat passed around her phone and showed off the still-in-progress tattoo she’d given to a group of bikers who passed through today. Her work had improved tremendously since you were 16, when she gave everyone the same star tattoo, effectively branding you all into some off-brand cult.

Sharon recounted the patient who heaved all over her that morning. The story didn’t go on for very long before Clint and Sam started to lose color and made her stop talking about it. You had planned on being a nurse with her, way back in high school when everything in the world was still bright and shiny.

But plans change.

You hadn’t eaten much of anything all day, not wanting to eat in the car and too stubborn to stop for food, so the one drink had already started to affect you. You giggled and smiled, almost having forgotten how it felt to be that light.

A new song came on the jukebox and it was like a movie: the door opened, illuminating the inside of the bar, drawing everyone’s attention, and time stood still. Steve led the two men over, but your eyes were focused on the brunet’s. You saw a look of shock wash over his face as you stared at one another. You looked down at your lap, suddenly finding your nails much more interesting. As if on purpose, Sam slid in next to you as he got back from the bar, effectively trapping you in between him and Clint. Well… you could always crawl out from under the table if need be.

Steve approached the table first, a dazzling smile on his face. “Hey, guys! Sorry we’re late; had to finish training the newbies,” you glanced up at him and he gave a stunned look. “Holy shit! Sam move,” Sam chuckled and moved out of the way and Steve took his spot, wrapping his massive arms around you in a bear hug. He smelled like Irish Springs and the same Crew shampoo he’d been using since discovering it in high school. You let out a surprised laugh.

“Hi to you, too, Steve.” You patted his back with the limited arm movement you had.

He chuckled in your ear, “You’re lucky you aren’t standing up, or I’da picked you up.” You laughed and he pulled back, his hands on your biceps.

“Sam already did, so might as well.” Steve laughed.

“How you doin’, sunshine?” You chuckled at the nickname that came so easily from him.

“I’m good, Steve. I’m good.” Steve turned his head towards the bar and then looked back at you.

“Come with me. I wanna get a beer.” He didn’t give you much room to argue before he was pulling you out of the booth. He sat at one of the stools and patted the empty one next to him. “So… how ya really been?” You glanced at him as you sat. That asshole had always been too perceptive when you didn’t want him to be. You sighed softly.

“Steve… I really don’t think now is the time to talk about this. Let’s just get through the night and--”

“And what? As soon as it’s all over, you’ll run out of our lives like last time? Oh, wait. Not everyone, just me and Buck.” You shouldn’t be shocked by his anger, you had been anticipating it since you told Sharon you’d come to the wedding, but the sting it left wasn’t something you had imagined.

You stared down at the bar for a few beats before Steve let out a deep sigh, “Things have been shitty without you here, ya know? We’ve all missed you, Buck most of all…. Obviously.” Nick came over and Steve ordered some local beer you hadn’t heard of, and another drink for you.

“We all made choices that night, Steve.” He turned his head and you slowly met his eyes.

“You two need to talk. This has gone on for long enough. I don’t think you both have all sides of the story.” You rolled your eyes and scoffed, thanking Nick as he slid your drink to you.

“And you only have his,” you grabbed your drink and stood up, and headed towards the back exit. You went down the narrow hallway, past Nick’s office, and opened the black metal door, the cool spring air a welcomed greeting.

You sat on one of the milk crates stacked by a pallet of wood and sighed. You set your drink on the ground and leaned back against the wall, staring up at the dusk sky. It was stupid to think you could ever come back and have things be normal while you were here. Things were definitely not normal.

The door popped open and you glanced over, making eye contact with Bucky. He gave you a half grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he let the door fall shut, and moved to sit on the milk crate across from you. You forced yourself to go back to looking at the sky, even though you could feel his stare on you.

“Hey.” It had been years since you heard his voice, but it felt like just yesterday.

“Hey.”

“So... Steve’s obnoxious, huh?” You looked at him and saw a small smirk on his face. Your own smirk formed and you huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, just a bit.” Bucky chuckled and kicked out some of the rocks under his foot. You sat in silence, the sound of the AC thrumming softening the tension in the air.

“You look good, Y/N.” You finally took Bucky in. His hair was cut shorter, and he had a few days’ worth of stubble on his face, from the looks of it. He wore jeans and a grey shirt with a black jacket, and his arms looked like they were about ready to bust out of the material with one good flex.

“You do, too, Bucky.… Even with short hair.” He chuckled and shifted on his feet, nervously running his fingers through his hair. You picked up your glass and rubbed your thumb over the rim, “How’s the firehouse?” His eyes flickered over your face.

“It’s good. Made lieutenant last fall.” Half of your mouth turned up in a grin.

“That’s great, Bucky. I’m happy for you.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a small grin.

“Thanks. Steve’s captain, so he’s a bit of a hard ass most days, but somehow I manage.” You laughed softly. “So, Clint was saying you work w-with kids? H-How’s that goin’?” Of course he did.

“I do. At an elementary school. The kids I work with are pretty great, so I can’t complain.” You slowly stood after what felt like an eternity of staring at one another, cradling your drink in your hands. Bucky straightened, standing up, and you noticed he kept clenching and unclenching his fists. A nervous tick he’d had since the sixth grade.

“We don’t--” “Can we--”

You both chuckled nervously, and you motioned for him to go first. He cleared his throat, “Uh, I was just gonna ask if could meet for lunch tomorrow? Maybe talk where there isn’t alcohol involved.” You gazed over his face.

“Okay,” you whispered. Bucky’s brows raised with surprise.

“We can go to Peggy’s? She’ll be happy to see ya….” You grinned at how eager he sounded. “So, uh, what were you gonna say?”

You glanced down at your feet, “Oh…. I was gonna say we don’t have to talk here, but you beat me to it.” You looked up at him, chuckling. His face shifted slightly.

“You still can’t lie for shit….” Your grin fell slowly, and you looked back down at your feet. Bucky could always tell when you weren’t telling the truth. Even after all this time, it seems.

“I was gonna say that we don’t have to talk and be nice about it. It’s not like things got left on the best note.” He scoffed and you looked up at him, “Yes, James, I know I’m the reason for that, thank you.” He took a couple steps towards you, and it felt like you were going to drown in those eyes all over again.

“Then, let’s fight; get it out of our system.” You gave him a bewildered look and set the glass on the stack of pallets.

“Really? You wanna get into a screaming match outside the bar? Probably wouldn’t look too good for a firefighter to get cited for domestic disturbance, don’t ya think?”

“Don’t even wanna fight when I’m bringing it up…” He shook his head and scoffed humorlessly, “Of course ya don’t. You don’t wanna talk about it, or fight about it, but you’ve got no problems up and disappearing for four years without so much as a fucking heads up!” Bucky’s voice gradually got louder and louder.

“That’s not just on me, Buck! You didn’t wanna talk either, and you just ignored the conversation until I told you I couldn’t do it anymore, and then--!”

“Do you have any idea how fucking miserable I was when you left?! Jesus… Steve and Sam had to drag me out of the house just so I wasn’t holed up in our home--”

“I was miserable before I left, but that never got brought up, did it? No, of course not. ‘Let’s just blame Y/N. She’s the bitch that left good ol’ Bucky Barnes high and dry for no reason at all. How could she do that to him!?’” You scoffed and threw your hands up, your palms coming back and slapping your thighs, “I was fucked up, too! It wasn’t like I actually wanted to leave, but we were kids, Buck! We didn’t know a goddamn thing about life.”

“We knew plenty! We--”

“No, we fucking didn’t! No, we fucking didn’t... Tell me, did you figure out I left, or did someone who actually cared hafta tell ya?” Bucky’s jaw clenched, his knuckles going white. You closed your eyes and breathed through your nose. The door popped open, and you both snapped your heads in the direction. Sam came out with a wary face.

“Uh, hey…Steve and Sharon want a group picture…?” You grabbed your drink.

“Great!” The sarcasm was palpable. Sam moved to the side and let you pass. You quickly gulped the drink and pointed to the empty glass and held it up for Nick as you walked past him at the bar. You discarded the glass on the table, “So, who’s takin’ the picture?”

“Well, let’s get one of just us girls first, then we’ll do the guys, then we’ll ask Nick if he can take the group one for us,” Sharon handed Steve her phone and grabbed you and pushed you into the booth so you sat in the middle between her and Nat. You squeezed together and smiled while Steve stood up and turned the phone sideways to get the picture.

“Alright, one, two, three,” Steve put the phone back down and started moving towards Sharon.

“Steve, take a few, and actually tell us when you’re taking it,” Steve put his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay….” He put the phone back up. “Everyone say ‘Cheese!’”

Bucky was going to hit something, and that something was going to be Sam Wilson if he didn’t wipe that look off his face.

“Buck, you--”

“For both of our sake’s, don’t.” Sam’s jaw ticked and Bucky brushed past him.

He’d known you were coming for only about 36 hours. Steve had been talking to Sharon on the phone and hadn’t noticed Bucky come into the kitchen. Bucky was refilling his mug when Steve asked if she knew where you were staying. Bucky’s knees almost folded under him, and since then, he’s been pestering his friends with information.

Sam and Steve had been the only ones who encouraged him to talk to you tonight. They even gave him pointers for how he should do it.

The conversation he planned to have with Y/N had gone a lot smoother in his head on the drive over.

When you were all satisfied with the picture, the guys sat down, Sam and Bucky coming back over as you were standing up. As Sharon took a picture of the guys, you went over to Nick and picked up your drink and handed him a five.

“Can you take a group picture of us?” He gave a look. “I know… trust me, I know. But do it for Sharon. Think of how happy it'll make her.” He rolled his eye and you knew you had him. You always had a way of finding the cracks in Nick Fury’s heavily guarded heart, even if you those cracks were left there on purpose. He grumbled and came from behind the bar and walked with you back over to the table.

“Listen, you’re all lucky I’m such a generous person,” Nick deadpanned. You all laughed and Sharon handed him her phone, “Guys, in back, girls up front.” You let out a relieved sigh and sat down next to Nat. You just needed to smile and try to convince everyone you were happy.

How hard could that be?

You were about four and a half drinks in and having a great time. Nat had snuck over to the jukebox shortly after pictures and selected a song that resulted in you and Sharon both gasping and joining Nat to dance. You were even able to get Clint and Sam on the floor for a song or two.

Song after song played, each one more upbeat than the last, and you danced with whoever was closest. You had to do whatever you could to avoid dealing with your problems. Obviously, it was the mature and adult way to handle the situation.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky watched from the table.

“You’re staring. It’s creepy.” Bucky side-eyed the redhead next to him.

“I’m not staring.” Nat raised her brows.

“Right…” Bucky ignored her and took a sip of beer. Every time Bucky tried to focus on whatever bad joke Clint was telling, his eyes somehow lingered to wherever you were. He missed the way his heart beat with you around. “Also, couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been nursing that beer for a while. It’s gotta be piss warm by now.”

It was. “It’s fine. I’m on call tonight, anyways.”

“No, you’re not, otherwise none of you would be drinking….” Nat moved closer to him, “Ya sure it doesn’t have to do with the girl over there that’s had a few too many?” Bucky clenched his jaw and finally turned to face Nat.

“Natasha…”

“James…”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

Nat shrugged, “Too bad.” Bucky rolled his eyes and turned forward just in time to watch you and Sharon spin into each other. He couldn’t hear you over the chorus of the song playing, but the crinkles by your eyes told him you were laughing.

Nat squeezed his knee and leaned into him, “Don’t be afraid to show her how you’ve changed, too.” His eyes snapped to hers, and she just grinned. It was really fucking annoying how she could always read him.

Sam came over to you while you were trying to find a new song on the jukebox. His arm draped over your shoulders, “Hey, we’ve gotta head out. Fury wants to close up for the night.”

Your brows burrowed and you whined, “But, why…?” Sam chuckled and glanced at his watch before looking back at you.

“Because it’s almost one and we’ve gotta go?” Your brows stayed pinched. You didn’t realize how empty the bar had gotten. “Are you staying with Clint and Nat tonight?” You exhaled and shook your head.

“No, I’m staying at the hotel,” you spoke louder than really necessary in an empty bar.

Sam pinched his brows, “Really? Why aren’t you stayin’ with someone?”

“’Cause no one would want me to. I was an asshole, Sam, and you guys are too nice to me….” Sam helped you stagger over to a chair so you could sit.

“Oh, kid….” He looked over you and nodded his head just enough that you noticed. You turned to where he was looking and saw Bucky walk your direction.

“Hey, Buck-o!” He raised his brow.

“Hey….” Bucky glanced at Sam and they whispered things to each other. You stood up and Sam and Bucky both immediately reacted, “Y/N, you gotta sit down.”

“I'm fine!” You tried walking back to the table where your friends were, but the room kept spinning and your coordination betrayed you. A strong hand gripped your arm and held you upright.

“Up you go,” Bucky scooped you up like it was nothing for him.

“Hey! Put me down!” He didn’t respond, and simply walked over to the table.

“Sharon, can you grab her purse?”

“Yeah,” Sharon grabbed your purse from the table and put it on your lap. She gave you a warm smile, “Lady, you gotta stay with someone tonight. Who--?” You shook your head.

“No, I don’t! I’ll be fine! I’m not even that drunk!” She gave you a look. You didn’t even believe your lie.

Sharon glanced at Bucky, then back to you, “Y/N, that’s not true, and you know it,” her voice was gentle, but firm. She tucked your hair behind your ear and you felt Bucky’s fingers dig just a little deeper into your flesh, “You need to go home with someone. You’re too drunk to be alone. I’m worried you’ll hurt yourself if you don’t.” You snorted.

“Well, you’re a nurse, I’ll just call you if I sprain my ankle again.” Sharon ignored your comment and started to get Steve’s attention.

“I’ll take care of her; make sure she’s safe. I… I’ll text you guys tomorrow.” Sharon stared at Bucky.

“Is that a good idea?” Bucky had to fight back his desire to scoff. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?

“Yeah, I think so.” Sharon studied him before slowly relaxing.

“Don’t make me regret this, Barnes.”

Bucky ignored her remark. He murmured goodbyes to those nearby and started walking out of the bar with you balanced in his arms.

“Bucky! Put me down, I weigh too much!” He let out a sigh.

“Babe, you gotta stop screaming, I’m right here.”

“I’m--” he looked at you, and you shrank into yourself, “sorry.” Maybe you were talking louder than you needed to. He sighed softly.

“You don’t weigh “too much”, Y/N. I’m gonna set you down, can you keep your arms around my neck so you don’t fall over?” You nodded and grabbed your purse as Bucky slowly started to set your feet back on the ground. He opened the door to a vehicle, “Be careful of your step. The lift’s still there.” You looked and realized it was Bucky’s truck that you were getting into. One whiff of the air freshener, and you were sixteen again, and driving all over kingdom come with Bucky. You slowly stepped up and plopped into the passenger seat.

“Do you need help buckling up?” You shook your head and grabbed the seat belt and clicked it across your body. Bucky shut the door and you watched him walk around and get into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t help but notice the two silver and blue ribbons that were still braided together, hanging from the gear stick. He buckled up and turned the engine over.

“What about my car?”

“We’ll get it in the mornin’.” He looked at you, chewing on his cheek, “I was gonna go through drive thru, would you eat somethin’?” You gasped and grabbed his arm.

“French fries! Oh my god, can I get french fries!?” He glanced at your hand on his arm and before giving you a soft smile.

“Sure, babe.” You smiled and leaned back so you were resting against the door. You folded your arms and stared out the window as you drove. Bucky started talking, but you couldn’t hear him. You lolled your head towards him.

“What?”

“Why do you think no one would want you to stay with them?” He flicked his eyes over you quickly, like he didn’t want you to notice him looking at you. You sighed loudly.

“’Cause I left, and haven’t been a very good friend. ‘Cause I hurt you like you hurt me,” tears slid down your face freely. “I really didn’t wanna hurt you. Well… I kinda wanted to, but not as much as I did. Not really! I was just so scared, and hurt, and sad, and--”

He grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers before he brought the back of your hand to his mouth. Bucky knew you were too drunk to be having this serious of a conversation. He also knew sober Y/N wouldn’t be saying any of this right now, so it was probably a good idea to make you stop talking.

He did, however, think it might be easier to get it all out there, so that when the time comes to have the real conversation, he’d have a better idea on how to do it.

“I know, Y/N… I know. I’m sorry for… everything. I was shitty to you, and I-I should’ve done more for you. I hate myself for not bringing you back home that night. For not being there for you like you needed,” he kissed the back of your hand tenderly, goose bumps rising in his wake. “I missed you, Y/N,” his voice was barely loud enough to hear over the thrum of the engine. He let out a deep sigh, “Let’s get some food, and go home, yeah?” You nodded and wiped away the tears with your other hand, too drunk to truly process what was being said.

Bucky pulled up to the drive-thru speaker and rolled down his window.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

“Yeah, can--”

“I want hamburgers, too!” you shouted at Bucky. He untwined your hands and tried to cover your mouth without looking at you, but you quickly moved his hand away. “Don’t try to shut me up; I want hamburgers!”

“Okay! Jesus!” He whispered with wide eyes, trying his best to get you to stop screaming. “Sorry about that, can I have…” You could hear Bucky ordering the food, but all you could focus on was his hand that rested between you both. Maybe if you laid yours down beside his, he wouldn’t notice, and would hold it again? Or, maybe--

“Will this complete your order?”

“Yeah.” You shifted in your seat, moving your eyes to the dash in front of you.

“Okay, we’ll have your total at the window,” Bucky slowly drove forward. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a twenty.

“I’ve got money.” You attempted to open your purse, but a big hand stopped you. You glanced at him.

“I got it,” he pulled up and the worker gave the total and Bucky handed them the money. They handed him back his change and he put it away before putting his wallet back in his jeans. They handed him the bag of food a few minutes later, “Thanks. Have a good night.” He set the food in the middle console and pulled back onto the street. You grabbed the bag and started looking for the fries. “Hey, wait until we’re home,” he tried reaching for the bag but you batted his hand away.

“I want some fries.”

“Y/N, just wait five minutes,” you pulled out three fries and popped them in your mouth, chewing happily. Bucky let out an annoyed sigh.

“You said I was the only one allowed to eat in your truck, so here I am… in your truck... eating,” you popped a few more in your mouth. You looked at him with a ‘gotcha’ look.

God, did Bucky miss you. “I guess I did say that…. Fine. A few more, then you gotta wait. You’ll just get upset when you don’t have any when we get home.” You laughed and pulled out a long one before you rolled the bag close and put it back on the console.

“Jokes on you, I’ll just steal yours.” Bucky grinned, but kept his eyes on the road. He’d gladly give you whatever you asked for, whether you knew that or not.

You pulled onto the gravel road that you knew like the back of your hand. The lilac bush came into view and Bucky turned up the drive way, the headlights casting over the blue farmhouse. Bucky parked and grabbed the bag.

“Hold on, I’ll come help ya.” You unbuckled just as Bucky came around and opened the door. You grabbed your purse, and as you went to step out, your foot slipped out from the lift and Bucky grabbed you to stop you from falling on your ass. Your hands landed on his biceps and you slowly looked up at him with a bewildered face. “You okay?”

Concern.

Genuine concern for the drunk girl almost falling out of the truck, was all you could hear in his voice. Both of his hands were around your waist, keeping you safe from falling.

“You smell good.” He blinked and tilted his head slightly before slowly grinning.

“Thanks…. You smell good, too. Ya know, once you get past the tequila.” Your cheeks flushed and you chewed on your cheek. He chuckled, “C’mon. I’ll carry you, just to be safe.” You were sure he’d make up any excuse to carry you again, even if you weren’t drunk. He kept a hand on your waist and bent down to pick up the bag of food he dropped. He handed the bag to you, and before you could stop him, Bucky picked you up as he’d done in the bar. You held your purse and the bag of food in your lap with one hand and the other wrapped around Bucky’s neck for dear life.

He walked up the few steps to the porch and maneuvered the door open. Once you were inside, he used his elbow to flip the light switch. The light grey couch and matching love seat you had picked out together were still here, and so was the leather recliner his parents had given you when you moved in. The walls had been painted navy blue since you left.

“So, you painted, huh?” His eyes flicked to yours as he sat you down in the recliner.

“I had a lot of time on my hands.” You hummed and opened the sack and started pulling the food out. Bucky continued to look at you.

He wanted to tell you that you were right, that navy was better than the teal he had insisted on. But he didn’t. There were a million and one things he wanted to tell you, and paint choices were the least important. He exhaled and went into the kitchen.

You heard the fridge open and set his food on the coffee table and tucked your feet up and opened a burger. “Here,” Bucky handed you a bottled water, “drink this.” You set the burger back in the wrapper and took the water from him. “Thanks,” you swallowed and twisted the bottle open, taking a small sip. You were thirstier than you realized and drank more as you watched Bucky sit down and open up the box with his food. He had his own water sitting on the coffee table. These positions used to be reversed years ago.

You looked around the room, taking it in. It seemed almost exactly like it did when you left… except not, at the same time. Just another reminder that time didn’t stop just because you left. You noticed a pink sweatshirt on one of the hooks by the door. “You got a girlfriend?” It wasn’t accusatory, you were genuinely just asking, your drunk brain blurting out your thoughts for you. Bucky choked on his food and quickly reached for the water and took big gulps.

“What?!” He coughed out. You pointed to the sweatshirt and he followed, “Oh, that’s Bec’s! She left it here the last time she was in town.”

“Oh, Becca! I miss her…! How is she?”

“She’s good. She’s comin’ home for the wedding, so you’ll see her next weekend.”

“Don’t let her kill me,” you spoke with a mouth full of food. Bucky raised a brow and picked his burger back up.

“I won’t let her, but she won’t want to. She’ll probably cry when she sees you.”

You fell into an awkward silence, both of you trying to find a way to start a conversation. You were finishing your fries when Bucky cleared his throat, “So… uh, are, are you seein’ anyone?” Bucky hated himself as soon as he said it. What if you say yes? What if--

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’. You didn’t finish the other burger and offered it to him. He glanced at it and stared at it for a beat, debating on if he really needed another burger, before taking it. He’ll just eat a light breakfast. You put the leftover fries and wrappers into the bag and stood up. Bucky tensed like he was ready to catch you. “Relax. I’m just throwin’ this stuff away,” you picked up his wrappers and walked into the kitchen and pulled out the drawer that had the trash can. You stumbled back into the living room and could feel Bucky’s eyes on you.

“Uh, I’ve got some clothes you can wear so you don’t have to sleep in jeans and…” He moved his finger around, pointing at you, his cheeks getting redder. You glanced down and realized you had more skin showing than you intended. Your cheeks got hot and you adjusted your top and nodded.

“You could’ve just taken me to the hotel, ya know? I would’ve been fine.”

“You’re too drunk to go to a room by yourself. Somethin’ coulda happened.” You rolled your eyes, but didn’t say anything. You rested your head on the back of the recliner and slowly felt yourself start to drift to sleep. You felt an arm go under your knees.

“Bucky, stop carrying me. I can walk,” you rolled your head and looked at him.

“You think you can handle stairs?” You stared at him, narrowing your eyes.

“Yes.” He snorted.

“Well, then let’s go, toots,” you rolled your eyes and scoffed as you pushed yourself up.

“Call me ‘toots’ again and I’ll deck ya.” Bucky chuckled and walked behind as you went upstairs. He guided you to a room and flipped on the light. He walked you to the bed and had you sit, and you watched him go to the closet and grab a white v-neck and grey sweatpants and set them beside you.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch. Do you need anything?” You blinked and slowly shook your head as you looked at him. “Alright. Well, if you do, holler. Uh, I’ll let you change. Goodnight.” He walked out and shut the door swiftly. Bucky stood in front of the door as he collected his breaths. He steadied himself and went downstairs to finish eating and try and get a grip.

You looked around the room as you toed off your shoes. The Ikea dresser you picked out sat in the corner still, along with the mirror hung above it that you just had to have. Bucky wasn’t surprised when you came home with it; he’d long accepted your need to decorate with second-hand items. He was, however, surprised when you didn’t get the groceries you had told him you were getting. The whole purpose for going into town in the first place. You told him you were just too excited to show him the mirror. He just laughed and told you to get into the truck, and you went to the store together.

You stood up and touched your fingertips to the small hardened pink nail polish stain on the white comforter. You remembered being so mad at yourself when it happened. You changed into the white t-shirt of Bucky’s and pulled back the covers. You turned off the lights and sank into bed, softly inhaling Bucky’s scent that clung to the sheets.

Bucky finished eating and cleaned up. Maybe he should go check on you and leave some water for when you wake up. He grabbed a glass and filled it from the tap. He walked upstairs and lightly tapped on the door.

“Y/N?” He waited for a response, but when he didn’t hear anything he opened the door.

You were laying on his side, hugging his pillow with your face buried in it. Half of his mouth tugged up in a grin when he heard your soft snores. He used the hallway light to see and set the glass down on the nightstand. He went into the adjoining bathroom and grabbed two blue pills for the hangover you’d absolutely have when you woke up. Then he took one last look before heading back downstairs, turning off the lights as he came down.

Bucky sent Sharon a text that you were asleep in bed, and that there was nothing for her to regret. You could have gotten a hangnail and Sharon would have found a way to blame Bucky.

He kicked off his shoes and grabbed the fleece blanket off the back of the couch and laid down. His mind was racing as he stared up at the ceiling.

How are you gonna get her back, Bucky?

How are you gonna not fuck this up?

How?

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Masterlist // Next

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky x Reader #Bucky x You #Bucky x Y/N #Bucky Barnes #alternate universe #Fireman!Bucky #Bucky Barnes AU

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shipersanonymous · 5 years

Text

Tears She Shed

A West-Allen au 💜

Dark. Heartbreaking. Tear inducing. A story that shows us a Barry we're not used to seeing.

The day Iris said "I do" she made a promise to love and cherish him forever, a promise that now weighs heavily on her beat down shoulders. She knew he wasn't the same, she'd senced it before she stepped foot down the aisle but she loved him and love conquers all.

Or does it?

What will she be willing to give to keep the love of her life? Is she strong enough to let go and find her happiness? What choice will she make when trapped between her heart and her freedom? How many more tears will she shed?

WARNING : MAY CONTAIN CONTENT NOT SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER THE AGE OF 18

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Author’s Note:

A little darker. A little angstier. A little more gruesome. A little more painful.

This fic is inspired by the WA fic "Her Worst Nightmare" by dysfunctional_scribe . It is on AO3 so if you haven't checked it out yet I highly recommend it, though please be warned it's not for the faint of heart.

I'll be straight up honest with you. I usually like to write dark (don't ask me why) but this is a little hard for me. Having to depict Barry in such a negative light is a nightmare and having to tap into Iris's emotions to be able to describe them in a way that (hopefully) makes you feel it too is downright heartbreaking. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. As emotionally scarring as the experience might be its an opportunity for growth and I beg of you, please, give me your honest opinion.

Hope you enjoy it! (To the extent possible)

XOXO

Chapter 1

His rhythmic drumming on the steering wheel pounds through her brain, the fear heightening all her senses. She knew that leaving without him was a mistake but she couldn't keep her boss waiting any longer. Now she has to deal with the consequences. It takes all she has not to flinch as his thumbs hit the wheel at an aggressive pace almost like a foreshadowing of what awaits her at home.

"Home". The word feels foreign. She hasn't felt at home in a long time. Not at the loft, not in their bed, not in his arms. Especially not in his arms. Those arms that at first enveloped her and swept her off her feet into a dream. That saved her time and time again and kept the monsters at bay. Now he is the monster and out of all the nightmares she's faced and could have possibly pictured herself facing, this has never been one of them. It's by far the worst. They pull into the parking lot and she feels her heart sink to her stomach. The drive wasn't long enough, she's still not ready. He takes a deep breath beside her and her eyes begin to well up before he lays a single finger on her. She wants to apologize, to explain that she couldn't wait for him any longer, that to keep Scott waiting for another hour would have been unprofessional but she knows better. She knows that saying anything before he speaks will only make matters worse. So she sits silent and unmoving. Her throat grows scratchy from the effort of holding back tears. Maybe if she behaves this time, if she pretends like she isn't even there he will let her be. As if hearing her thoughts, he opens the door and gets out, slamming it in his wake.

She allows herself a moment to breathe but does not, for a single second, fall prey to the illusion that she has been spared. His footsteps grow faint and she waits for a second longer before going after him. As soon as she shuts the door the car alarm activates. He's watching her. She swallows the lump in her throat and hurries towards the elevator. She finds the doors closing and he makes no effort to hold them open. He's drawing out her torture, letting the fear sink in so she'll be too overwhelmed to fight back. It's working.

By the time she reaches the loft her heart is beating so furiously that she's afraid it might stop altogether. Her hand trembles as she opens the door and takes a shaky step inside. She finds him seated on the couch, his back facing her and a glass of whiskey resting in his hand. He knows that he can't get drunk but he tries anyway.

"Babe?" His voice is calm and she shivers. He didn't say her name. He never says her name before he... It's his way of hurting what his hands can't touch. He's striping her of her name, of her identity, dehumanizing her with cuddly pet names that contrast shockingly with his actions.

"Ye-yes honey?" She calls back trying to keep the shake out of her voice and not bothering to take a step closer.

"Do you still love me?" He asks but his voice lacks any longing or emotion.

"Of course I do baby. I'll always love you."

He falls silent. The sound of his glass hitting the wall punctures the tension in the room and before she has time to blink he's standing in front of her. He grabs a chunk of her hair and yanks it back. She lets out a cry of pain, reaching for her head and feeling the muscles in her neck tense up with discomfort.

"Don't lie to me, " he spits out.

"I'm not, baby. I promise. I love you, " she pleads and he gives her hair a forceful tug.

"Don't lie to me!" He screams out this time and she flinches. He grabs hold of her jaw with his free hand and squeezes.

"If you loved me you wouldn't make me look bad in front of other people." He tells her, with a soft voice that drips in anger and wild eyes to match. He let's go of her abruptly, and she rubs her aching jaw.

"Baby I'm, I'm sorry. I just couldn't let him wait any longer, he-he's my boss and was kind enough to take us out to dinner. I was just..." He shuts her up with a slap to the face that leaves her disoriented and she falls to her knees. A kick to the side follows and she flattens out on the floor holding her bruised but thankfully not broken ribs. He straddles her, crushing her stomach with his weight, and she's reminded yet again how much smaller she is in comparison to him. How powerless and insignificant her existence is. These are emotions he used to nurse her out of, whenever she stood by his side (the old him) she felt invincible, she stood tall with him. Now they're wounds that he inflicts continuously. Each encounter taking a little piece of her bravery away, diminishing her shine, turning her into a living corpse. Cold and lifeless. His large hands close around her throat.

"US out to dinner? He didn't take US out to dinner. He took YOU out to dinner." He says in a strained voice as each delusional sentence makes him squeeze tighter and tighter. She has no option but to stare up at his animal-like eyes. Rage screams at her from them, a dark and empty emotion, that lets her know for sure...The Barry she knows and loves isn't there. Her eyes burn with tears that she refuses to shed, the only act of defiance she can muster at the moment. She claws at his hands desperately but he doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he tightens his grip around her neck and lifts her head only to bang it back down on to the floor. That knocks what little breath she has left out of her and her vision blurs with the sudden impact but she can't scream out her pain. You need air to scream and she currently has none. The grip around her throat eases with the dislodging of one of his hands, allowing her to take minuscule breaths, but she has no time to appreciate the insignificant relief before her drowsy mind begins to fear what he might do with his newly freed weapon. She doesn't have to wonder long.

One blow, two blows, three blows, delivered one after the other. Before long, her burning right eye begins to swell, one of the many reminders she'll have to deal with in the morning. On the fourth blow she feels her skin sting as it rips, he's drawn blood. For an argument this minor he doesn't usually go any further than a little bloodshed, he's made his point there's no need to press on. As always his control strikes her as odd. For a man with his superhuman abilities, it would be easy to just lose it and kill her, she would have actually preferred it that way. Yet he somehow manages to contain himself making his abuse all the more deliberate and heartbreaking.

His grip around her neck tightens once more and he brings her ear up to his lips.

"He can't take you away from me, honey. You're mine." He whispers before slamming her head on the floor once again. This time, it's lights out.

She floats back into consciousness a while later. Her head is hazy and her vision is partially impaired. She's trying to piece together her fragmented thoughts but before her mind completely clears her senses come back to life and that's when she feels it. The pain. Prior events come back to haunt her but not as memories, instead, they make themselves known through physical aches. She tries to move and the sound of water echoes through the room.

"Shhh, Iris. Don't move." He whispers, his voice floating towards her from a distance. He called her Iris, he's back. She blinks, her swollen eye burning with the action, and tries to bring her coherence up to 100%. She manages a disappointing 50%. That's just enough for her to realise that she's in their bathroom, in a tub of warm water, with an ice pack pressed against her right eye. He'd done it again. Hit her. Scott, her boss, had invited them both out to dinner during the annual CCPN fundraiser and she'd gone without her husband because he was late. That earned her a pummeling.

"Are you alright? Does something hurt?" He asks concerned. He seems to be back to his old self but Iris knows better. That darkness is just lying asleep somewhere inside him, waiting to take over after the smallest of challenges. She doesn't speak. She's too sore and too afraid to answer. She can't even nod her response or her maddening headache might worsen. She feels him press his forehead to the side of hers.

"I thought I lost you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispers then plants a gentle kiss to her cheek. Iris closes her eyes and despite the voice in her head telling her not to be a fool, she listens to her heart(as always) and allows herself to enjoy his affection.

"I love you. I love you so, so, much Iris. You know that right?" He pleads.

"I know Barry. I love you too." She manages to croak out, her voice raspy and hoarse. He drops the ice pack (which Iris now realises he was holding to nurse her half shut-eye) and she turns her head to look at him. Once again she's taken aback by his eyes, the rage isn't there anymore. In its place are longing, guilt and love. So much love. Her heart trembles with the smallest sliver of hope. Maybe this time he'll stay. Maybe this time he really means it when he says that he's sorry. She reaches a weak hand up and places it on his cheek, offering him a forgiving, smile.

"I can't lose you Iris. I just can't. I can't live without you."

"Shh. It's ok babe. You're never going to lose me. I'm yours forever."

She leans in and presses a kiss to his lips. A part of her wants to pull back and throw up. He'd hurt her for the umpteenth time and it was bound to happen again. The other part of her, the broken part, the majority of her wants desperately for his words to be true. That part needs reassurance that she hasn't stayed this long for nothing, that there's still hope for them after all. That the man she loves is still here with her, he's fighting through it just like she is. He responds by moving his lips against hers. His kisses are soft, caring. Nothing like the brutal punches he'd thrown at her earlier. She feels his hand move down her body tenderly before he hooks his arm beneath her knees and with his other hand pressed to her back he lifts her from the tub.

"Barry? What are you doing?" She asks as he carries her back into the bedroom.

"I'm gonna make it all better." He whispers and a shiver runs down her spine at the hint of lust that punctuates his words. He places her gently onto their bed and the sheets beneath her are soaked within seconds. Barry's lips find hers in the dark and he takes her breath away once again, this time with passionate kisses. He turns his attention onto her neck, kissing the tender skin and occasionally sucking it, leaving marks of a different nature. A soft moan escapes her lips as he takes a hardened nipple into his mouth while his fingers tease her lower lips. He slowly presses two of them into her and she whispers out his name. He teases her breast with his tongue while his fingers work on her sweet spot to get her off.

"You're so beautiful, " he whispers. "I love you Iris." He declares and she wants to answer but her mind is clouded by her nearing orgasm.

"I-I" her breath comes out in short puffs and she can barely string a sentence together.

"Shhh, you don't have to say, anything baby. Just come for me. Show me how much you love me." Her brain takes note of the pet name but she's already too far gone to stop now. Her hips answer his provocations and to add the cherry on top he vibrates his fingers slightly sending her over the edge. Her back arches as a wave of ecstasy washes over her. He withdraws his fingers from inside her and in the darkness, she can feel his smile. He kisses her, gently but it seems cold somehow.

"I told you you're mine. No one else can take you over like I just did." He whispers into her ear, shattering the brief wonderland she'd built for herself and bringing her face to face with her reality.

She's in love with a monster.

...

The next morning she wakes up naked in an empty bed. She's curled up into a ball, freezing in the early morning chill. He didn't even care enough to cover her. Feeling exposed and violated, she gets up and walks to their bathroom. Staring at the mirror she's confronted with the truth, she'd fallen for his act again. The skin around her eye is purple and pink and she still can't open it fully. Her ribs are bruised where he'd kicked her and her neck has the imprint of his fingers etched into it like a sickening tattoo. Along with the love bites he'd given her. It wasn't an act of love, it was him marking his territory. She was his.

All the lies he'd told while making her quiver with need come back to assault her. He can't live without her. He loves her, she's beautiful. He could barely see her how could he call her beautiful! Her reflection blurs behind tears that she'd been fighting off last night but now allows herself to shed.

Stupid.

That's what she is. Completely and utterly stupid for still believing in his sharp tongue. Her chest is suddenly crushed by an unimaginable shame. She came for him. Her body still responds to his touch, still caves to his advances. Bile rises at the back of her throat and she rushes to the toilet to expel her disgust.

Disgust in herself.

Iris fills the bathtub with water and settles in to it. She grabs her loofa and scrubs vigorously, further bruising her already sensitive skin. The pain doesn't bother her. It has become her friend. Her close companion both physically and emotionally. So close in fact that she no longer remembers who she was without it. She submerges herself completely into the tub and in the partial silence of being underwater, she prays in thought that her heart just stop. That her breath hitches and she slips into a never-ending sleep. She opens her mouth and breathes, the sting of water in her lungs causing her to convulse. Iris shoots out of the water, coughing and wheezing. Gasping for breath. Her prayer hasn't been answered.

Disillusioned she gets ready for work and to her relief her husband doesn't come home before she leaves. The sun is up now and despite the slight heat of the day Iris arrives at work with a scarf wrapped around her neck. She hid the damage to her face as best as she could with concealer but there isn't much she could have done about the slight swelling. She keeps to herself, afraid of all the concerned glances and difficult questions, that is until she's cornered in the meetings room by Scott.

"Set up duty West?" He asks as he steps inside to find her laying out folders that contain the topics of discussion for today's meeting.

She looks up at him and offers him a forlorn smile.

"Yeah, Linda didn't come in today, I think she's sick, so I took her turn." She answers. Scott's smile falls from his face and she's reminded of her appearance. She immediately drops her gaze and turns her face to the ground.

"What happened?" He asks, undeniably worried as he steps towards her.

"Nothing I just, " she chuckles nervously. "I fell down the stairs is all. Clumsy me." She lies and her boss sees right through her excuse.

"Iris?" He asks again, his tone begging her to tell him the truth. She remains still, too ashamed to face him. He reaches out to touch her bruised skin but only manages to get close enough that she can feel the warmth from his hand on her cheek before she flinches. With her eyes closed and in a voice so soft that if he weren't paying attention he'd miss it, she allows herself a much needed moment of weakness.

"Please don't, " she whispers. "If he finds out he'll kill me."

Scott's eyes widen though Iris doesn't see it with her own still being closed. He feels a knot form in his throat and asks,

"Who? Barry?"

At the mention of his name Iris begins to panic. Her paranoia has escalated over the years to the point where she fears he has eyes and ears everywhere.

"I've said too much," She says flustered and rushes to the door.

"Iris wait, please. I wanna help you." His voice is coated with a layer of sincere concern and her hand wavers on the door handle as she imagines how easy it would be to just give in. To let him hold her while she cries, to feel safe again. Yet she looks up at him with sorrowful eyes and says,

"Scott, please. I'm asking you as a friend. For both our sakes, forget I said anything."

With that, she walks away heavy-hearted. At her table, she slumps down on to the office chair and hides her face in her hands. The area around her bruised eye stings with the pressure and she suddenly feels exhausted, weighed down by the crushing realisation that there is no escape. If she so much as contemplates leaving he will find her, and he'll kill whoever stands in his way. The guilt would crush her and there's no way to escape on her own. She's not strong enough to leave him. Not alone. Her wedding ring burns around her finger like a noose. Each day it grows tighter and tighter and she's losing her breath, fading slowly, craving a sweet release that approaches at a snail-like a pace. Until then, she waits. Trapped with no escape.

#westallen #iris westallen #barry allen #barry and iris #joe west #eddie thawne #the gold standard #the flash #flash fiction #flash fan #angst #domestic violence #mature #dark fiction #fan fiction #flash fanfiction

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