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thatonebrazilian · 1 year

Text

Tolerate it

Summary: Everyone assumed you were fine, but what would they do if you just... broke free?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; undertones of Carol Danvers x Reader; Platonic Clint Barton x Reader; mentions of platonic Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

Word count: Around 6K

TW: Deep angst, assassination attempt, betrayal of trust, suicidal thoughts, dealing with grief, self sacrifices.

A/N: I've been in the mood for angst, apparently. And I actually wasn't planning on writing anything (I shouldn't have, I was short for time as it was), but I was listening to Taytay and the fic just came to me. This will probably hurt a lot. Just hurt, not much comfort. Let there be pain.

You didn't know what you did wrong. You didn't know how you could fix this. You didn't know if it even could be fixed.

All you did, all you could do, was just sit there and watch her. She was reading, her head low, almost as if she was trying to keep a barrier between you two.

You sat in the corner of the room, watching her as she immersed herself in reports. The soft glow of the lamp cast a delicate halo around her, illuminating her beautiful, beautiful features. And yet, on that night, as on many before, the light seemed unable to reach her eyes.

You knew she was struggling, you were too. Everyone was. The Blip had taken many from their families, and the toll it took on those who stayed made many more lose their loved ones. The remaining Avengers lost Clint to his own darkness, and you lost the love of your life to what you could only describe as self-isolation.

Natasha had always had an unhealthy work-life balance, yet you always managed to counter that… But not anymore.

You had been together for what felt like an eternity, intertwined in a love that once knew no bounds. Now, though, there was a growing chasm separating the two of you. Natasha would only engage in conversations that revolved around missions and saving the world, and none of those came from you.

You used to be an Avenger too, with powers so astronomical that you never learned to control them. Bruce and Tony had to create some sort of inhibitor for you, lest you destroy the world by mistake.

You were probably one of the most powerful beings out there, but having no control whatsoever of your powers would only bring destruction, so you learned to live without them, the bracelet Tony made never leaving your wrist.

Being a somewhat powerless avenger was hard, but it was worth it. You saved people, you helped your friends.

But since the Blip things have changed.

After watching Wanda, one of your best friends, disappear right in front of your eyes; after seeing Clint's descent into darkness, you didn't feel like fighting anymore. So you decided to stop, you stopped so you could take care of yourself, take care of Natasha.

They were small, the things you did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. You'd wait by the door every day to greet her like a god-damned war hero, to show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work; you'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with your best cutlery; you even took upon painting as it seemed to ease your mind, and you'd use your best colors for her portraits (and there were many)... And yet, all Natasha gave back were lukewarm smiles; hums, and nods in acknowledgment of your attempts at conversation, and a lackluster "thanks".

She seemed to simply… Tolerate it.

You woke up in the wee hours of the morning, the sun hadn't risen yet, and the moonlight shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Your gaze fell upon Natasha, who lay beside you sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring you comfort.

But then, as you watched her, you noticed a subtle alteration in her breathing patterns, something that would go unnoticed by anyone else. The steady rhythm became irregular, interrupted by moments of slightly shallower breaths and the briefest of pauses. There was a tension in her muscles that hadn't been there a second ago, almost as if a silent battle was being waged beneath her immaculate skin.

Natasha's eyes remained closed, her face serene as if she was lost in the most peaceful of dreams. But you knew the truth. She was pretending to be asleep. It felt like she didn't want to wake up beside you, like she simply tolerated your presence, but now even that tolerance seemed to be waning.

You wanted to reach out, to offer her solace, to take all the pain away, but the invisible barrier between you seemed impossible to break through. The distance that had grown between you now felt like a vast expanse, impossible to bridge. Her closed eyes spoke volumes, a silent plea for space, for time, for avoidance.

Your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, your eyes burned with the sting of unshed tears. You missed Clint, he'd know how to deal with this, he'd help her, but he'd help you, too. He'd hug you and tell you that everything was gonna be ok, he'd make sure it'd turn out that way. You missed Wanda, she'd take you out to eat ice cream, watch silly sitcoms with you, tell you the stupidest jokes just to see you crack a smile, she'd even threaten Natasha if she imagined the other redhead was hurting you in any way, shape or form.

You missed your life, your old life, before the Blip.

You turned away from her, not wanting her to see the tears in your eyes in case she opened hers.

As it turns out, the first time Natasha had a semblance of a real conversation with you in… You don't even know how many weeks… Was to ask you to join a team to take down whatever new evil had shown up.

You didn't even think twice about it, you took the job, you'd do anything to get closer to her again.

The team consisted of you, Steve, and Carol, who was visiting Earth. You didn't even know where you were headed or who you were facing, you just wanted to come back with an excuse to actually talk to your fianceé.

As you prepared to get into the jet, you saw her there, giving off directions before everyone boarded. You wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between respecting Natasha's need for distance and the overwhelming desire to break through the walls she had erected.

You felt a hand on your shoulder then, too warm to be Nat's, and you immediately felt the comfort she radiated.

Carol wasn't the most sentimental person, she wouldn't tell you that everything would be fine, she wouldn't offer comforting words, but she'd be there, a warm unwavering presence amidst the chaos (even if you rarely saw each other in person). She was the one good thing that the Blip brought you.

"Don't think too much about it," the blonde said, already knowing what was on your mind. "Keep your head in the game, I don't want you getting hurt out there, ok?"

You nodded while managing to keep to yourself the strong urge to hug her, to seek comfort in that friendly and familiar warmth of hers.

She nodded back, turned and boarded the jet, having already reviewed with Natasha her role in the mission.

You looked at your fianceé only to find her eyes already on you. You didn't think too much into it, though, she was probably just reviewing in her head the role you'd have for this mission.

Once again you found yourself wanting to go to her, but the fear of rejection loomed over you, a haunting presence that whispered of the potential pain that awaited if you ventured too close.

You turned away and stepped in the jet.

You stumbled into the Avengers' compound, a dull ache radiating from your wounded shoulder, the bloodstained clothes doing nothing to give you comfort.

The mission had taken an unexpected turn, and both you and Steve got shot. Multiple times.

As soon as you stepped through the quinjet's door Natasha was there, the worry in her eyes making you question if you were hallucinating. She walked to you, her eyes never leaving yours, it was almost as if you could feel her again, the old Natasha, your Natasha.

"What the fuck happened? You weren't supposed to get hurt!" she exclaimed in a mix of anger, desperation and concern. She ran her hands through her unkempt hair. It was an uncommon sight, indeed, to see her so disheveled.

You knew she had been worried, the moment Steve reported back you could hear her pacing back and forth through the comms, you just didn't know it would affect her this much. You didn't think she cared anymore.

Almost as if sensing your thoughts, Natasha took a hesitant step closer and reached for your hands. "You got me really worried." She said, her eyes looking deep into yours, her hands soothingly cold to the touch.

You could see she wanted to say something else, but almost as if she was waging a silent war against herself, she shook her head, released your hands and sighed. "Go to the med bay. I'll meet you there."

You nodded weakly, too tired from blood loss to argue. Too tired in general.

As you made your way to the medical facilities, the pain in your shoulder intensifying with each step, you couldn't help but think of all the times Clint saved your ass from stupid bullet wounds like these, or how Wanda would literally create a shield around you whenever you faced danger.

You missed them, you missed Wanda so much, and you couldn't help but wish it was you and not her. And Clint, god, you hated what he became, you hated the Ronin, you hated that he wasn't there to heal by your side, to heal with Natasha, but you still missed him so much.

As you entered the med bay, you were greeted by a warmth that made you question how she could have gotten there first.

"Bold move, jumping in front of a sea of bullets like that" Carol said, there was no warmth in her voice though. You closed your eyes.

"I couldn't let them shoot that child," you said, sitting on a cot and looking apologetically at her.

Carol gritted her teeth, her eyes scanning your wounded shoulder, the part of you that got the most hits, with a mix of worry and anger written across her face.

"So you just deemed your life less valuable than hers and decided to throw it away?" She clenched her fists.

"That's not it and you know it," you said in a small voice. It was worse, but no, she didn't know it. She didn't need to. You didn't want to burden her too.

Carol's eyes softened, she took a couple steps towards you and touched your uninjured shoulder. "I just worry about you, sweet girl." She said and sighed, "Look, I know you don't have much to live for right now, but you're one of my best friends, I wouldn't be able to deal with it if something ever happened to you. And by the looks of it neither would Natasha, despite all the shit she's been pulling."

It was amazing how Carol, just like Wanda before her, was able to fill you with lightness. With them, as well as with Clint, you felt cherished, cared for. You could never be more thankful for the blonde in front of you. Without Clint and Wanda here to support your near Natasha-less life, Carol was the one thing keeping you sane.

You just wished being sane was enough.

You managed a weak smile, though, and even if felt forced, it still seemed to have convinced Carol that you were ok. "I'll be fine, Carebear. Just a flesh wound. I know I haven't been in the field for a while, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Carol fought off a smirk. "Promise me you won't pull shit like that again, at least".

You saluted her, a mocking smile on your face, despite the ache you felt inside. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

She chuckled and shook her head, "You're the worst".

"But you love it!" Your answering smile was more genuine this time.

Her smile grew bigger, and you wished you could see it in person more often.

"I actually do." She said, shaking her head once more and turning away to leave the med bay.

It didn't take long for a nurse to come to tend to you. There were many bullet wounds around your body, although most were superficial. The worst was indeed your shoulder, having been hit four times.

You bitterly wondered how you could still be alive with all of these bullet holes around your body.

The minutes passed by, and yet there was no sign of Natasha, so after all your wounds have been treated and dressed you decided to go look for the redhead.

It was a bad idea. As you located her, your heart sank. There she was, tending to Steve's wounds, her focus solely on him. Even though there was nothing romantic about the situation, the sight of them together stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, longing, confusion. Betrayal. You wondered if there was something more between Natasha and Steve, a connection that surpassed friendship. You wondered why she would deem him deserving of having his wounds treated personally by her while you were sent to a nameless nurse.

Your mind raced, struggling with the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed you. Doubts crept in, and you questioned the very nature of your relationship with Natasha. Did she even love you still? Has she ever? Where was that woman who threw blankets over your barbed wire, leaving you just soft enough for all your other friends to approach? Why has she left you behind in her pursuit to build this new world instead of taking you along with her? The uncertainty gnawed at you, intensifying the ache in your shoulder. You made her your temple, your mural, your sky, but now you were left begging for footnotes in the story of her life.

As you stood there, watching her tend to his injuries, a deep sense of loneliness washed over you. The weight of the lack of acknowledgment you've been getting from her grew heavier, casting a shadow over the bond you once shared. The pain in your shoulder felt insignificant compared to the ache in your soul.

At that moment, you realized you couldn't take it anymore. You loved Natasha, you would probably love her till the end of your days, but you knew your love should be celebrated, and yet all she did was tolerate it.

You never thought about what she would do if you broke free, leaving the two of you in ruins. But that's what you did, you took the chains that bound you to Natasha and broke them.

You still longed for her, though, the neverending love you held for the woman felt like a dagger piercing your heart, a constant reminder of what you craved for, of what you once had. You wanted to remove it, to see it clatter to the ground as you bled out.

It was weird to gain the weight of her then lose it, but you needed to do it, you had to.

You were doing it for her as much as for yourself. Natasha had lost so, so much, but there was one person who could still come back, so you went to look for him, more in hopes of helping her than fulfilling your own desire of seeing him again.

Even if she didn't love you (which was the impression you got when you told her you'd be gone, looking for Clint, only to get a blank stare in response), you still loved her, you still wanted her to be as happy as she could, and you knew Clint was the person to make that happen, he was her best friend as much as he was yours.

You needed to help her heal somehow.

"She's been a mess since you left," Carol had said once during a video call, the vast expansion of the universe now looming right behind her, "don't ever tell her I said that, though." The grimace on her face told you she wasn't kidding.

"Steve's been trying to help more, even I am; I've been to earth since you left more times than I've been throughout my whole life. I'm afraid that if I stay gone too long, she won't be there when I come back… Since you left she barely takes care of herself. The place's a mess, she hasn't been eating much, and, again, don't ever tell her I said this, but I thought I'd never see her cry, and yet…"

You wondered if it had been all in your head, the way she seemed to avoid you, the way she seemed to take you for granted, the way she seemed to merely tolerate you.

In the midst of a turbulent storm of emotions, a newfound sense of urgency propelled your every step. You needed to find Clint, you needed to find him so you could go back to her, to see if she was really deteriorating that much, to ask her if it was all in your head, if you got it wrong somehow, if she actually loved you.

Time seemed to both crawl and fly, leaving you with moments of self-reflection in the solitude of your journey. Doubts and insecurities waged war within you, tearing at the fabric of your clarity. What if you discovered that Natasha's love had been genuine, but she had struggled to express it? What if she was simply too freshly traumatized to express it, and you had abandoned her at her worst moment?

You needed to go back to her, even if it was just to figure it out. But you wouldn't go back without Clint, you couldn't.

So you searched, and searched, and searched. And as you finally stood before Clint, his weathered face bearing the marks of his own battles, you found yourself engulfed in a deep ache. Two of the people you loved the most were immersed in pain, and you could do nothing to help.

"I can't believe you traveled so far, came all the way here for this," Clint spat, his voice filled with anger, his eyes filled with tears. "To ask me to come back so I can help her. Do you even worry about me? Did you ever stop to think that I lost my family? My wife's gone, Y/N! I lost my kids! Do you really think that I'm not dealing with my own shit right now?"

You shook your head, tears welled up in your eyes too, matching the anguish in your voice. "Fuck you, Clint! I'm not here just for her and you know that! You're my best friend, goddamnit, and you've been gone for years! I know you're hurting, but you gotta know that what you're doing is wrong, and it's not gonna bring Laura and the kids back." You shook your head, remembering the way the kids would all call you auntie Y/N/N. You sighed and shook your head in disappointment. "They would actually be ashamed of what you became."

You knew it was a low blow, but it was the truth, and he needed to hear it

The moment he seemed to register those words, Clint's eyes became full of this sort of anger that you've never seen your friend display. But again, this wasn't Hawkeye, this was Ronin.

Clint advanced upon you with rage in his eyes, his hand went to your throat, a dagger suddenly pressing against your ribs.

"Take that back." He said through gritted teeth, and you felt your eyes filling with tears once again.

Of course he wasn't above hurting you like this. He, too, didn't care about your own pain.

You were tired, you were so fucking tired.

"Do it." You said, your voice devoid of emotions, the hollowness you now felt was all it conveyed. "It's not gonna make any difference if I'm gone, anyway."

You'd be just another death on his account, just a wisp of a memory in Natasha's mind.

Clint's brows furrowed, but his grip was unrelenting. You took your hands to his, the one holding the dagger, and pulled it up, so it wasn't resting above your ribs anymore, but right at your heart.

"Please," you said with a wavering voice, looking him deep in the eyes, trying to appeal no more to your friend, but to Ronin, "do it. Please."

The dagger clattered to the ground, Clint took a step away, looking at his hand as if it had personally offended him. He then looked at you, but you didn't meet his eyes, you were too absorbed looking at the dagger on the ground, feeling the brisk sense of freedom evading you as it finally stopped moving.

You then felt his arms around you, your head suddenly tucked into his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sounding desperate "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, and repeating, and repeating.

You shook your head, your own desperation making you cling to him "Why didn't you do it? Why couldn't you just kill me?!"

His arms tightened around you as you both fell to your knees.

"I'm sorry," he just repeated, "I'm sorry I took this path, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I wasn't a good friend."

You wished that he being sorry was enough.

When you came back, there was a talk about fucking time travel. The Ant-guy was back, and so was Tony, Thor, and even Bruce. Everything seemed to be falling into place, so why did you still feel so…. broken?

But, somehow, as you and Clint stepped foot inside the Avengers compound, the familiar surroundings embraced you like a long-lost home. The tension that has seemed to permeate your very bones during the journey began to ease, replaced by a cautious hope for what awaited you.

You knew things wouldn’t instantly fix themselves up; Natasha wouldn’t just come to you and apologize for all she’s done (no, that wasn’t like her at all); your heart wouldn’t suddenly be mended, even if she did; your mind wouldn't let you forget the pain, the deep ache the past five years inflicted upon you.

And yet, there was hope.

There was the possibility of bringing Wanda back, of having Carol around more often, of doing something good for humanity. Of making Natasha happy again.

The moment the doors opened you saw her. She was talking to the Ant-guy and to Bruce, her brows furrowed as she nodded along.

And then she turned her head and caught sight of you, and of who was by your side. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw Clint standing there, and a glimmer of something flickered within them, something akin to hope, but also akin to sorrow. Without a second thought, she started walking in your direction, coming faster and faster until she was running.

When Natasha reached Clint, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a long-awaited embrace. Tears pooled in her eyes, slowly streaming down her cheeks as she closed them.

There was a little lightness in your heart as you saw them hug, some sort of knowing that she'd be ok even if you weren't around anymore. She wouldn't starve herself, she wouldn't push everyone away, she wouldn't shut down. She'd survive, and then she'd move on.

In that moment, as Natasha clung to Clint, her teary eyes slowly opened. There, through the blur of her emotions, she looked right at you. And the gratitude that radiated from her gaze was palpable, as if a thousand unspoken words were contained within that single look.

Her hold on Clint loosened slightly as her eyes locked onto yours, lingering for a brief, intense moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time as the weight of her gaze met yours. It felt as if the universe held its very breath, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

You wished you could say you could feel her love through that gaze, but you didn't know if you could use that word to describe what Natasha felt for you. Maybe she regretted what she did; maybe you became her anchor, even if unbeknownst to you, and she felt like she needed you to function; maybe she felt like she owed you something for bringing Clint back. You didn't know what it was, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the word love would be the wrong one to describe her feelings for you. Gratitude, thankfulness, maybe, but not love.

You smiled a sad smile, and nodded your head in acknowledgment to the gratitude in her eyes.

Natasha furrowed her brows and pulled away from Clint as she saw you walking away from her, but before she could come after you, Clint caught her hand and walked towards the opposite direction. He wanted a conversation in private.

You just knew he was going to tear her a new one for what she did to you. During your journey back he had apologized more times than you could count, his words still engraved in your mind.

"I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust," he had vowed, his voice filled with determination. "I'll prove to you day after day that I care, that I value our friendship above all else. What happened the other day… it'll never happen again, I promise you that. I was too absorbed in my own pain, so much so that I hurt you, but I would never do that intentionally, Y/N. You're like a sister to me, I'd never willingly hurt you. I love you too much for that."

Maybe his love was real, but you didn't have it in yourself to just forgive and forget.

Maybe one day the gods would deem you worthy of love. True love, not the kind that hurts you.

"A soul for a soul" the Redskull said, turning the vast expense of cosmic beauty before you into something bleak, final. "You must sacrifice that which you love."

Your eyes wandered, drinking in the breathtaking scenery, the towering cliffs and cascading waterfalls; it seemed like a paradise carved from dreams.

But the words hanging in the air casted a somber shadow over the planet's beauty, and as you stood near its vibrant precipice, the weight of what had to be done pressed upon the three of you.

Destiny had brought you here, demanding a sacrifice.

It was a curse and a blessing all at once.

"If we don't get that stone, billions of people stay dead," Natasha stated, her voice tinged with determination, almost as if she was trying to keep herself strong.

Of course she'd want to be sacrificed, the selfless fool that she was.

Clint's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a mixture of conflict and resignation. "Then I guess we both know who it's got to be," he replied, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. They didn't spare a single glance your way, it was almost as if they had mutually decided that you were to live.

A subtle sadness washed over Natasha's features as she nodded in agreement. "I guess we do."

You closed your eyes. You had been wanting this for so long, you had craved the peace I'd bring, you had fantasized about it, about closing your eyes and never opening them again.

And yet… you found yourself wanting to cling to life with an unwavering grip.

As Clint and Natasha looked at each other, you found yourself wanting to greet Laura, Lila, Coop and Nate when they came back, you found yourself wanting to have a nice day out with Yelena. You found yourself wanting to embrace Wanda and never let her go.

It hurt to know you wouldn't be able to do any of that.

"I'm starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha." Clint said then, his voice wavering slightly.

For a moment, Natasha's gaze lingered on Clint, her eyes reflecting the depth of her conviction. "For the last five years, I've been trying to do one thing: get to right here," she confessed. "That's all it's been about. Bringing everybody back."

She looked at you then, her eyes brimming with tears "I was so focused on it that I drove away the one person I had promised myself never to hurt.",

You couldn't look her in the eye, you couldn't let her see your decision through your gaze.

Clint's shoulders seemed to sag, you could see the self-blame he felt right through his eyes, even if they were focused on Nat. "And that's why it gotta be me. You spent all this time trying to help what was left of the world. Me… you know what I've done. You know what I've become." He shook his head, his eyes turning to you as well "If you haven't gotten to me, I'd still be killing an untold number of people without a care for who it'd hurt."

"Well," you said, shrugging, trying to lighten the mood a little "I don't judge people on their worst mistakes." There was no point in holding grudges anymore.

"Neither do I." Natasha said, looking at him. Her eyes turned to you then, full of sadness, longing , and regret. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

You walked towards her and pulled her in by the hand, your forehead resting against hers.

"I love you, Nat. You've been forgiven since day one." You said.

Natasha's tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You saw from the corner of your eye Clint taking a step back, as if to go to the cliff. You extended your hand to him as well. He stopped in his tracks and took a couple steps in your direction, taking your hand in his.

He smiled a sad smile, his eyes red. "Tell my family I love them" he said, and tried to pull his hand away, but you gripped it with all the strength you had.

"Tell them yourself," Natasha said, pulling away from you as well.

You sighed, your eyes burning with unshed tears. You didn't want to die anymore. You wanted to live.

But you couldn't let them sacrifice themselves.

You ripped the bracelet Tony made from your wrist. It clattered on the ground. Natasha and Clint's eyes widened, almost as if they hadn't even thought of the possibility of you being the one to jump.

You felt an unbearable heat rising up from inside out, your lungs burned, your chest, your torso, your whole body.

"Y/N what the hell are you doing?!?" Natasha yelled out, trying to get to the bracelet on the floor, but the burning winds that seemed to suddenly emanate from you wouldn't let her get closer.

"Take care of each other. And of Wanda and Carol. That 's all I ask." You said, your voice no longer solely yours.

You saw a rising shadow on the ground, signaling the presence of wings on your back. Blood red wings engulfed in flames. The Phoenix's wings.

Clint was rooted to the ground, your power vicious enough to paralyze those of weaker minds.

Natasha, though? She was fighting to get to you, the winds clearly burning her skin, yet she didn't give up. You turned away from her, not wanting to see her struggle.

It was a short walk to the edge of the cliff, you didn't want to look back. If you said goodbye it'd make it feel more real. So you just jumped.

And then you felt her hand on your wrist, the searing heat making her skin burn, and yet, she didn't let go.

"No, please. Not you." She cried, and even with tear stained cheeks she was the most beautiful woman you've ever seen "I can't lose you like this. The world can't lose you. You're the only one of us that really deserves to live life to its full potential."

And then, as if her touch made your power purr in her presence, Clint broke free, running to where you were dangling and taking your other wrist in his hands.

This was hurting them, both physically and mentally, you saw the skin on their hands blistering, you saw the redness in their arms, the tears in their eyes not just from the pain.

"Let me go," you said with a sad smile. They had their families, they had their jobs, their missions; their homes.

You had nothing, all you did was take up too much space or time. They deserved to live, even if you left them in ruins.

"It's not gonna work!" Natasha shouted in desperation, her expression one of pure anguish "I don't love you! It's not gonna work!"

You smiled sadly at her. She really didn't love you, did she? She just tolerated you.

"It 's ok, Natty. It'll work. You may not love me, but Clint does " you said, smiling at her through your own tears.

"Y/N, please, don't do this," Clint begged too, sobbing as he held onto you with all his strength.

"It's ok," you repeated, and if it was to calm them or yourself , you didn't know, "it's gonna be ok".

You used whatever little control you had over your powers to push them away. As your body tumbled to the ground the last thing you remembered was the way Natasha used to laugh at your jokes, enjoy your food, take you out on dates. The last thing you remembered was how she used to love your presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

When Natasha and Clint woke up not much later in a galaxy colored lake, she clutched the stone that had appeared in her hands, wishing with all her might that it turned out different, that the last words she said to you weren't "I don't love you."

She loved you. Always did. Always would.

Wanda sat in front of your gravestone, her hair disheveled, her eyes red shot, her cheeks tear stained. She hugged her knees as she sobbed, longing for the presence of who could no longer be by her side. She had lost her parents, then Pietro, Vision, and now you.

She sobbed more and more, the pitiful sound getting louder.

She felt a hand on her shoulder then, and she looked up to see red shot brown eyes.

Carol sat beside her, taking her hand and squeezing it a little.

She understood what Wanda was going through, she was grieving you as well, and even though Wanda and Vision were planning on starting a life together, the witch suspected the Captain wouldn't have said no if you'd asked the same thing from her. So she, too, lost her love, even if she never got the courage to confess it.

It was a hot day, the sunlight shone perpendicular through the clearing where your grave has been put, creating a magical scenery all around the place.

And yes, the day was hot, but was it supposed to be this hot?

Wanda shook her head, her brows starting to sweat.

And then the sunlight vanished, as if something gigantic was blocking its path. She and Carol looked up, but all they could see were the trees blocking the sky from view.

The animalistic cry they heard didn't come from the trees, though.

Neither did the blood red feather falling through the leaves, its tip engulfed in fire.

Wanda and Carol looked at each other, and for the first time in weeks, they smiled.

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo, @Lovelyy-moonlight, @agent99galanzo, @red1culous

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inevitablemoment · 7 months

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Top 3 Most Underrated Michael J. Fox Performances

3. Max Eriksson, Casualties of War

I just want to know how did he not win an Oscar for this performance? I mean, he demonstrated that he was more than the smart-aleck short know-it-all in this film. The desperation, the pain, the empathy that he felt for Oanh.

Part of what appeals to me about this performance is how Eriksson enlisted in the Army because he truly thought that the Vietnam War would do good, much like how a lot of soldiers enlisted in Iraq because they were told that it was the right thing to do. He went in, thinking that he would be helping people, and came out having witnessed the horrible truth of it. And Michael was able to portray that so beautifully. It wasn't that he gave the character depth; he was able to show the depth of the character, and not tell. Just look at the GIF above!

I reiterate-- he deserved an Oscar for this film.

2. Frank Bannister, The Frighteners

This movie... oh, God this movie...

I may be a little biased because of how fucking feral this movie makes me for him (and Trini Alvarado), but... God, he's brilliant in this.

Even when Frank was in asshole-mode, you liked him. You kinda wanted him to succeed in conning the whole town. That is some Robert Preston-level shit. Yet, when you see how much of an asshole he can be, rather than hating him, you want him to rise above it and fix his issues.

Michael's chemistry with Trini is just unbelievable. From the minute they first share a scene, you can feel that spark. You root for them as a couple, and as individuals.

And the interrogation room scene and the holding cell scene... in my opinion, they're probably some of his best work. You can feel everything that Frank is feeling right in your gut, and you can sense him as he is forced to confront his grief and his guilt.

Just... I have a lot of thoughts that I have trouble putting down now.

1. Jamie Conway, Bright Lights Big City

I curse every critic that gave a negative review to this movie and said that Michael was miscast. In my opinion, he was absolutely perfect.

I think the fact that he had such a wholesome reputation helped with the point of the story, of how anyone can get lost in addiction and various vices. It's especially poignant, considering his real-life struggles with alcoholism.

I will admit, this may have beat out Frighteners for number one because this movie was the final push for him and Tracy to get together. Even though their scenes were so few, they had so much chemistry that you were left wanting more of Jamie and Vicky.

My personal favorite was the phone call scene near the end; just his portrayal of grief and pain after a year of trying to suppress it with addiction makes your heart go out to him, and his realization that he needs help really rocks you to your core.

#Michael J. Fox #Casualties of War #The Frighteners #Bright Lights Big City #Max Eriksson #Frank Bannister #Jamie Conway #Meta

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sweeteastart · 2 years

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🌺Kh Oc Week 2022🌺

@khoc-week

- Day 2 - World and Keyblades -

Day 2 yeaaaayyyyy ! I will say that today i'm gonna ramble quite a lot about my babies so be prepared ! :D

Bunny

I decided to show my ocs backstory through the worlds they went through !

For Bunny, she was born on a world that sadly fell into darkness. When their world fell, her brother Anis and her awoke in Daybreak Town.

There they met new friends that helped them go through the grief of losing everything. Their story follows pretty closely khux story however Anis was the one who ultimately was yeeted into Xehanort's heart and Bunny was stranded with Ephemer in the destroyed Daybreak Town.

It's together that they build Scala Ad Caeleum. I have to admit, the end of Ux and Ephemer fate saddened me too much so i said to myself "yep, i'm gonna fix this." Now they are two to be stranded and having to rebuild everything back from scratch.

Mikana

Mikana was born In Scala Ad Caelum and studied along with Xehanort and Eraqus. She was taught by master Odin and was pretty close to them. However, she gave up on being a keyblade wielder contrary to her friends.

Mikana's sister, Sakore, was afflicted by the darkness disease and her time was drawing close. The illness had started after she had been hit in the chest with a heartless attack. The situation put Mikana in a desperate quest of finding a cure for her only family even if it meant giving up on her dream of being a Keyblade Master.

That's around this time of her life, Xehanort took her into the future.Around the midway point of KHIII. Convincing her he had the solution to save her sister, he promised he would help as long as she provided him with the X-Blade if his own plans didn't come to fruition. That's when she started a somber plan : getting close to Ventus and Sora and then use them to forge the X-Blade.

However, things turn south when she start to get attached to them.

Sika

Sika lived a very secluded life since she was a child. Isolated on the world of White Castle with only company : Her master, Isys, and her fellow students, Orion and Erid. The four of them led a life of endless training and work to become Keyblade masters.

Her way of life is completely turned upside out when Sora crash on her world while her master is away. Here Sora don't get stuck in the after life with Strelitzia but somehow ends up on this world. I wrote this part before knowing of the KHIII dlc or KHIV trailer woops. Together they try to uncover how to bring Sora back to his friends and Sika mysterious and cold master plans.

Sadly, things go south during Isys's students mark of mastery. Sika is the only one to get it while Orion fail it and Erid sadly pass away. Sika uncover the lies and deceit of her master as Orion, consumed by darkness attacks their home world.

Sika and Sora are forced to flee into the Realm of Darkness as Sika's home world fall into darkness. There, they met Vanitas and make an ally out of him. But life in this realm isn't so easy and both Sora and Vanitas end up in Sika's heart after sacrificing themself. Thankfully she manage to come out, straight into Twilight Town's forest.

Alone, still having to truly process her new life, she met the Twilight Town trio. And for the first time, she founds people that care for her like a family should.

Pêche

Pêche's story is pretty complicated.

She was raised by Eraqus and Xehanort in the Land of Departure as a daughter and student way before Aqua and Terra. At the time, she went by the name Piry. Piry led a happy life until Xehanort's somber plan pushed him to sever her heart in two. Though he convinced the two pieces otherwise, neither was fully light nor darkness.

Feeling a disconnect from their birth name, one named themself Poppy and the other Daisy based on the appearance they slowly turned into. Daisy was trained to be a rough and perfect wielder where as Poppy was isolated, Xehanort's believing they would develop more into light or darkness this way. They started to distance themself from their old life and be their own person even if their unusual link proved their origin.

Years later, Vanitas joined them. Both felt terrible knowing another person had to go through the same thing as them. However, the still felt a deep love and care for Xehanort, remembering the father he was and didn't act against him. After BBS events, they forcibly were put back together by Terranort. The X-blade didn't appear as they never were anywhere close to fully darkness or light. All that was left was a lone, literally and figuratively heart broken person.

Rendered emotionally distant and deeply scared, the result of the fusion, Pêche, still cared deeply for Vanitas. They wanted him to never have to be reunited and not suffer their fate.But now, the love they once had for Xehanort had ended along with Poppy and Daisy. Sympathy for their father now gone, they manipulated the last battle evenement so Sora's and his friends wouldn't hurt Vanitas and Xehanort would pass.

But now rendered without any parental figure and having to process their dark past, Pêche path to happiness isn't so simple.

PFIOUUUUUU thank you for reading my convoluted ocs backstories ahah i think you can tell Pêche is a bit of my punching bag. The poor one can't catch a break. Most of them lived awful things but are walking towards happiness. Some suffered more than others though.

Also, because there was the end of khux and dark road going on during this past year... Bunny and Mikana aren't mother and daughter now. It's sad but that'll be in AU for now because i cant' think of a way to account for the 2000 years between the two ahahah :')

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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year

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Heart of Stone | Chapter 13

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, Read on AO3

note: I decided I am going to keep posting these here because I’m still going to be posting her musings/images and the like so it makes sense to keep it all in one place??? Shh.

pairing: Thranduil x Tamuril (oc) storyline: Tamuril was in love with Haldir but the battle at Helms Deep took away all hope she had for the future. She struggles with her grief and tensions eventually run high when she shares a moment with Lord Elrond she feels she cannot come back from and flees Rivendell, hiding herself away in the Elvenking Thranduil’s Halls. chapter summary: A look back to Rivendell in the week or so after Tamuril leaves and the journey to Mirkwood continues.

When morning came, Tamuril had barely rested, but she rose with the dawn regardless and moved to begin helping the others to put everything away. The wood elves gave her thankful smiles and she started to feel a little better for it. Useful. It was nothing big but she wondered if Thranduil was right.

Just as she had thought it, the King himself strode out of his large tent, dressed and ready for the ride ahead. She found herself watching him as he moved fluidly through the crowd of his entourage, everyone parting before him in a way that almost looked like a dance.

Tamuril found that she wanted to apologise for the way she spoke to him the previous night. He was a King and she did not share the familiarity with him that she had shared with Elrond. She had forgotten her place, she knew that, though she was surprised - and grateful - that he had not seen fit to reprimand her. Though for all she knew, it was coming.

Turning her gaze from him, she missed when he - a second later - turned his own towards her. He stood there, observing her for a long few moments, watching as she assisted his people until, satisfied, he turned away again and moved to mount his elk.

“He was just staring at you!” Nessa’s voice practically screamed in Tamuril’s ear, knocking her off kilter suddenly.

She winced, turning from where she had been helping pack away another tent, to bestow a frown upon her friend. “What are you talking about?”

“The King!” Nessa squealed again, drawing the attention of a nearby group of elves who were now mounting their own steeds.

Feeling her cheeks burning at the attention, Tamuril heaved a heavy sigh and pulled Nessa along by her arm, leading her over to where Willow stood waiting. “Nessa!” She hissed.

“What?” The other elleth stood there, blinking back at her with an innocent expression that Tamuril knew better than to fall for.

She levelled Nessa with a specific look and Nessa caved, her shoulders slumping. “But he was!”

Tamuril huffed, turning to untie the knot in the rope that had fixed Willow in place for the night of rest. “So?” She answered, greeting the horse with some light ruffling of its fur.

Nessa tilted her head. “I mean, if a King was staring at me, I would be taking a lot more interest in it.” She muttered.

Tamuril turned to her with another frown. “He was probably staring at me because last night I... I snapped at him and he is trying to decide how best to punish me for it!” She threw her hands in the air.

Usually, she could deal with whatever Nessa threw her way, her impetuousness often dragging her away on tangents that were sometimes best kept in her own head. She could be a lot of fun and she was a great friend but sometimes Nessa did not watch her words and went wherever the wind decided to blow her.

“You did what?!” Nessa’s eyes blew wide as she stared at the other girl in shock. “Tamuril! We have barely left Rivendell and you already...?" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Why would you do such a thing?”

“He was being irritating!” Tamuril snapped back, moving to mount the horse, eager to burn off all her newly rising frustrations on the journey. She knew that was hardly a reasonable excuse, or even the main reason, but still.

“He is a king, they are all irritating!” Nessa cried, tilting her head as she looked up at Tamuril from where she stood on the ground. She could tell the raven-haired half-elf wasn't being altogether truthful with her, though she had grown used to the walls Tamuril had put up. They had been built when Haldir fell and now seemed unbreakable. “Still...” Nessa mused, turning to look across the grass, her gaze falling upon Thranduil, his head held high as he spoke to some of his people from astride his elk.

Her voice had taken on the tone it did when she had started to get the beginnings of one of her little schemes and Tamuril’s gaze shifted back down to her in alarm. “Nessa.” She warned, not sure what thoughts had caught her friend’s attention but whatever it was she already knew she wanted no part in it.

“What?” Nessa turned her attention from Thranduil, shrugging once more in her little faux-innocent way as she looked back at her friend. “Oh, come, Tamuril!” She smiled at her, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her knee.

Tamuril raised an eyebrow at her, though slight amusement had started to creep in. Nessa had always had this way about her that was sort of infectious. “Whatever meddlesome little thoughts just tip-toed into your head, banish them.”

“I simply do not know what you mean.” Nessa trilled, offering Tamuril a soft smile before turning to prance away towards her own horse.

Tamuril shook her head as she watched her retreat, feeling too tired to dwell upon whatever Nessa had decided to latch onto this time. Still, she would have to keep an eye on her. She didn’t want to end up cast out of the Woodland Realm because her friend had decided to once more unleash her own personal brand of chaos.

Arwen's footsteps carried her down the hall. She had just come from choosing the dress she planned to wear to Gondor. It was beautiful and she was very happy, though she was full of nerves and she kept thinking back to the last time she saw Aragorn. She was excited to finally see him again, to begin the life she had waited for, and she wanted to be perfect for him.

Still, her thoughts continued to shift back to Tamuril. She missed her. It had been her wish that they all travel to Gondor together when this had all been over - Haldir included. Arwen missed him too. It had been a week now since Tamuril and Nessa had left Rivendell and still her father had not told her about his vision, the one that had upset Tamuril so much. She could wait, of course, but she just wished that he would stop beating himself up about this entire thing. She knew that he was doing it still, even if he did not speak of it.

Arwen also knew that neither her father or Tamuril had meant - or wanted - any of this. Not that either of them had believed her. It seemed that nobody was listening to a word she said and it was very frustrating!

On the way to her father's study, she caught sight of Lindir sitting on a bench overlooking the valley. He looked to be moping and Arwen turned to detour in his direction.

He looked up when he sensed her approaching. "Oh. My Lady. Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Arwen shook her head. "Peace, Lindir. I only come to ask you what's wrong."

"Wrong?" He asked, feigning confusion but he knew Arwen was much smarter than that. The look she gave him was confirmation enough and he sighed. "I am missing my friends, that's all." He shrugged. "It is not the same without them."

"No, it isn't." Arwen agreed, looking at him closely for a moment. "Why did you never tell her?"

Lindir blinked, alarm flashing across his expression. "What?!" His voice was practically a squeak.

Arwen chuckled but the sound was kind and she placed a hand upon his arm. "Lindir."

He deflated a little and sighed, shaking his head. "I did not wish to lose her friendship." Having Nessa as a friend was better than having Nessa as nothing at all, at least to Lindir. Now he kept thinking about her laughing with Feren or meeting some other elf in the Greenwood who she would finally fall for and forgetting all about him. He had missed his chance.

Arwen smiled kindly, reaching out to place her hand on top of his. “Do not give up on it so easily, mellon. There is always hope.” She told him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek before she jumped back up. “Do you know if my father is in his study?”

Lindir, whose ears were burning, ducked his head bashfully and chuckled. “He was the last time I looked, yes.”

“Thank you.” Arwen chuckled at him and turned to wander off in the direction of her father’s den.

When she pushed the door open, Elrond was sitting behind a large desk, focusing intently upon the papers in front of him. He didn’t actually have a lot to do, he was just focusing on finishing an account of his final years in Rivendell to leave behind once he departed for the Undying Lands.

He glanced up when his daughter entered and offered her a smile. Arwen could still see the traces of strain upon his face and she knew that it was partly to do with Tamuril but she also knew that it was about herself. He was still grappling with the fact that she was not travelling across the sea with him, to reunite with her mother, to live on with her family. That she had chosen the mortal life of those who came before her and he would have to leave his only daughter behind, never to see her again.

“Is something wrong?” He asked her. “I have informed the stables of our departure and asked the kitchen to ready provisions for the journey to Gondor. We should set out soon to make it in time.”

Arwen smiled graciously. “Thank you, ada. Everything is great, I just wanted to come see you.”

Elrond gave his daughter a look, a small smile gracing his lips. “You do not need to check on me, darling. I am fine.”

Arwen regarded him closely, shaking her head softly. “I didn’t say that you weren’t.”

Elrond’s brows knitted together as he frowned at her, though merely in jest. “Are you attempting to trick me, oh daughter of mine?”

“I would not dream of it.”

“Arwen...” He began, setting his quill down on the desk in front of him and shuffling away the papers he had been writing on.

Arwen sighed as she looked back at him. “Ada, I know when something troubles you.” She told him. “You play a convincing part but I know how you hold on to things.”

“Please.” Elrond held up his hand. “I do not want to think on it. There is too much else that needs my attention. I wish to enjoy the time we have left before we leave.”

“You are not getting on a ship straight away. Me going to Gondor is not goodbye.”

“I know... but, please, let me deal with this in my own way.” He smiled, reaching out for her hand. “Let us look forward, not back.”

Arwen was left dissatisfied but she merely smiled at him, nodding as she gave his hand a little squeeze.

Two more weeks had passed without incident and Tamuril was feeling a lot more settled in this journey than she had been when she first set out. Even Nessa had calmed down somewhat and Tamuril had actually started talking to the elves around her, finding that she did not altogether hate their company.

They were readying to settle again for the night, before the final leg of the journey, when there seemed to be some sort of commotion nearby. Tamuril looked up from where she was helping erect a little tent, glancing over.

Curiosity saw her moving closer to the little group that the slightly raised voices had come from. “What’s going on?” She asked.

One of the elves turned towards her, looking like they were at a loss. “We have lost a tent!” She cried in dismay, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Oh.” Tamuril frowned, wondering how it could have happened but she supposed things could get missed on the road, right? It didn’t occur to her that it was the tent that she and Nessa had been assigned until she realised that everybody was staring at her. She blinked. “Oh.” She said again.

“I am not sleeping on the grass!” Nessa complained from her side. “It’s soaked from last nights rain.”

“You can stay in my tent, my lady.” Feren’s voice sounded out from behind her. Tamuril turned to look at him with a soft frown but Nessa seemed to have already accepted his offer.

“Are you sure there will be room for me?” She asked him.

Feren chuckled before he nodded. “Trust me, there is ample space. Though...” He turned to look at Tamuril with an apologetic expression. “There is not quite enough space for two extra.”

Tamuril held back a sigh and was in the process of opening her mouth to assure him that it was okay, while the other part of her mind was trying to figure out if any of the few other tents would have even a sliver of space or if she would be sleeping in a tree, but a voice came from behind her before she could get a word out.

“There is room in mine.”

Tamuril’s shoulders straightened of their own accord and she did her best not to let any sort of emotion show on her face as she turned, meeting Thranduil's intense stare with her own.

#thranduil x oc #lotr oc #lotr x oc #thranduil fanfic #thranduil fanfiction #hobbit fanfic #hos #hos13

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viiisenyas · 2 years

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I got tagged by @oxygenforthewicked and @psalacanthea (several times aaaaah) so here it is! It’s a continuation of my last chapter in Val’s POV (since it was long af and I had writers block I had to split the blasted thing)

Warning: just a slight implication of SA :(

Valeriana

She was quiet as she followed Garrett and Flemeth through the dense forest towards the outskirts of Baldering. Valeriana ignored the perturbed chatter of Bethany and Carver, and the sympathetic gaze that Aveline kept giving her as she also remained in silence.

She was grateful that Carver was able to walk after she’d healed him, though that was where her appreciation ended. The horrific day had nearly come to an end as the sun hung low on the horizon, and Valeriana furrowed her brow, pressing her palm against her face.

It seemed like something straight out of one of her nightmares. In just mere hours, the home she had been welcomed into was destroyed by the darkspawn, and now Leandra’s corpse was rotting among the beasts they’d managed to cut down. And there was a child growing in her womb. She inhaled sharply, feeling the sting of grief pulling her heart once more before she shook her head, and ran her fingers through her tousled hair.

Maker, why? Why must You be so cruel?

“You should make camp. You’ll need your rest,” Flemeth suggested as they entered a clearing of the forest.

“We haven’t any supplies,” Carver muttered, raising a brow. “And what about the darkspawn?”

“You can make do.” She offered a curt nod, sliding her gaze between the group, “Worry not, dear boy. You all will be safe.”

“We’ll need to build a fire.” Aveline sighed, “I’ll go and collect what I can.”

“No need.” The Witch shrugged before she lifted both of her hands above her head. The foreign incantation rolled off her tongue easily before orbs of white light descended from above them, and illuminated the small meadow.

“You’ll not want to draw attention to yourselves.” Flemeth hummed before taking a seat in the grass.

The soft sound of a sniffle emitted from her left, and Valeriana turned, catching a glimpse of Bethany wiping her tears away with her sleeve. The Tevinter apostate sighed as she pondered what to say. She knew what it was like to lose her mother, and Valeriana gave her a pitiful look before averting her gaze.

“I’m so sorry, Bethany,” She murmured, “Your mum walks with the Maker in peace, now.”

“Thank you.” Bethany nodded, and Valeriana offered her hand to her. She squeezed it gently, and gave a weak smile before Valeriana led Bethany towards Carver and Garrett who both began to make themselves comfortable, and she sat beside the eldest Hawke.

“Are you alright?” Bethany asked after a pause, “Do you want anything to eat?”

“I… I’ll be fine.” She replied, fixing her gaze on the ground, “Carver, are you in pain?”

“No. My leg feels a lot better, now. Thank you for what you did back there.” The younger Hawke’s soft smile dropped, and he glared at his brother before turning his attention back to Valeriana. “But you shouldn’t concern yourself over me. You’ve already got enough to worry about as it is.”

“I never wanted it to be like this.” She confessed, unconsciously rubbing her abdomen.

“What do you mean?” Bethany asked.

“I… I wanted children, but…” Valeriana shook her head once more as tears stung her eyes.

“The Maker has a sense of humour,” Garrett scoffed, scratching his beard. Valeriana looked up to find that he hadn’t spared her a glance. She was surprised to hear his voice after hours of silence, and she tilted her head as he continued, “You want children, and He gives you the spawn of that fucking Templar in the middle of a Blight.”

What?

Valeriana’s eyes rounded from his assumption, and a whirlwind of emotions overcame her. Confusion. Grief. Anger. She was offended that he’d assumed the child was Trevelyan’s and she gaped at him in disbelief.

“Ser Trevelyan isn’t the father!” She raised her voice, letting go of Bethany’s hand as she stood.

“What?” Garrett rose to his feet, and took a step closer to her, grasping her arm. “Who else did that to you?” He demanded. She didn’t notice his siblings standing with them as she pulled away from him.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Hey!” Aveline swiftly approached, stepping between them as she pushed Garrett back a few paces. “If you don’t lower your voice, the darkspawn will descend upon us all!”

“Back off, Aveline!” Garrett barked.

“It’s the Warden you were talking about the other day, isn’t it?” Carver asked as tension settled between the warriors. “He’s the father?”

Hawke and Aveline exchanged glances before they both turned to face Valeriana, and she exhaled through her nose, answering the query with a nod.

“What Warden?” Garrett narrowed his eyes, jaw clenching.

“He was an apprentice in the Circle.” Bethany explained, placing a hand on Valeriana’s back. “He joined the Wardens in Ostagar recently, and... She loved him.”

Another pause settled between them, and only the sound of the forest could be heard as the wind shifted through the trees. Valeriana didn’t miss the way the Garrett’s tense posture relaxed, and she began to gnaw on her lower lip, anxiously while he lowered his gaze.

“Oh." Hawke’s tone was softer as he broke the uncomfortable silence.

Just ‘oh?’ No apology?

Valeriana scoffed quietly, and her lips curved down into a frown. She knew he had good intentions, but she was still enraged by his sudden outburst. Instead of allowing bitterness to overcome her, she simply exhaled through her mouth.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Valeriana.” Aveline murmured, “I may not have known him, but I do know he fought and died with honour.”

She looked up to meet the widow’s gaze as tears began to slip from her eyes, unnoticed. “Thank you.”

“What was his name?” Aveline tilted her head.

She hesitated for a moment, and her brows knitted together. She shifted her eyes between the siblings as they all shared sympathetic expressions and she finally answered.

“His name was Arthur Amell.”

#the whole fam is just like *surprised pikachu face*#there's more to it but for the sake of length (and drama) lol I decided to cut it here #wip whenever #series: from champion to inquisitor #ehehehe #I should remind you all that I had no clue that Amell was canonically Hawke's cousin until after I established Val and Arthur's relationship #and I was just sat there like 'well fuck it I guess she'll fuck his cousin later on then' lmfao #I HATE SONNY FOR MAKING ME DO THIS BUT GOD IT'S SETTING UP SO MUCH GOOD STUFF #also still writing this so it is subject to change alkdfj

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pynkhues · 2 years

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Oooh would love to hear your thoughts on the bear!!? I tried to watch not to be dramatic but it honestly gave me anxiety lol is it worth giving a second shot in your opinion?

I was expecting it to be anxiety-inducing after what everyone was saying about it, but it didn't really affect me in that way, funnily enough. Maybe I've just worked too long in hospitality and events, haha.

And yeah! I have quite a few thoughts about it, which I've put below the cut because they're both disorganised, haha, and pretty mixed, and I know a lot of my mutuals love it.

I found it to be a situation-driven show masquerading as a character-driven one, which ultimately is something that I found disappointing.

I'd gone in expecting to enjoy it a lot - I love stories that are centred around grief and created family, I love food porn, haha, and I've loved Jeremy Allen White in everything I've ever seen him in, but while the acting is great in The Bear, I found the writing pretty weak.

It's a lot of telling instead of showing that diminishes the story over all, every episode feels ripe with plot contrivances, and I found the pacing to be a bit of a mess. Plus everything kept getting resolved too quickly.

In many ways, I think it's all just symptomatic of inexperienced writers. It reminds me a bit of when I teach sometimes when people like their characters too much to let them suffer for too long, and so are constantly fixing problems as soon as they create them. As a result though, interpersonal conflict between characters feels shallow, and the tension, for me at least, totally falls apart.

I think it wants to have a lot of heart, and there are genuine moments where it does, but it also spends a lot of time telling us how to feel about the characters and the dynamics between them instead of showing us. Carmy's sister for instance seems to only really exist to tell us things about Carmy instead of as a character in her own right, which bothers me, and even outside of her in the main cast, there's a lot of positioning of characters in both dialogue and plot.

This often happens where a character behaves badly and the show quickly over-corrects by going too far the other way and having a character behave so sweetly it borders on saccharine (the example that springs to mind is with Richie screwing up with the health inspection and then having a very contrived phone call beside a character he has friction with where he's doting on his daughter). It makes it feel disingenuous to me, which is a bummer, because there are moments too where these characters really sing.

As for whether or not it's worth giving it a second shot - - I'd say sure, because the episodes are short, and the performances are great, and I do think the overarching plot of the show is compelling. I'm hopeful that if it gets picked up for s2, they'll be able to deepen the characters a bit and balance that light and shade better, because the potential's there, I just don't think it's delivering what it could yet.

#tv asks #fx the bear #welcome to my ama

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latetaektalk · 2 years

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a lover’s bond | jjk [preview]

“what’s jungkook supposed to do when he loses you, but go beg the god of the dead and king of the underworld to give you back?

or a retelling of the greek myth of orpheus and eurydice, a tragic love story.”

— genre: greek mythology! AU, orpheus and eurydice! AU, implied smut, fluff, heavy angst, grief

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: estimated 23-25k, 551 for the preview

— warnings: major character death, cursing, light alcohol consumption, themes of grief

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: okay this is the baby ive been working on for the past month!! super different from what i normally write, but this post has been haunting me forever now and i also came across this reel, so i just had to! also i looked at song of achilles by madeline miller a lot to figure out how to do this, so there might be a few subconscious influences! to be added to the taglist, shoot me a message/ask! and, thank you to both lira @koocycle and soobs @subways-stuff for reading this!! ily guys so much!!

— coming sunday, january 30th 2022

“I broke your heart?” you ask, quirking a brow. Your faces still impossibly close, words whispered between each other.

Jungkook grips the chair tighter, the skin stretched white and thin over his knuckles. It almost offends him that it’s his heart that’s beating as fast as it is. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. And yet, he can’t pull away from you, drawn in, practically brought to his knees.

“How did I do that—” He anticipates the end of your question. He knows it will be his name. And he also knows that you’re aware of how desperately he loves to hear those two syllables spilling from your lips. He’s almost sure you won’t give him the satisfaction, until you do, finally, thankfully. “—Jungkook?”

He wants to shake his head, scoff at the innocence you’re feigning, the act you’re presenting him with—eyelashes batting, head tilted to the side, a smile quirked up on your mouth. A part of him is almost infuriated by how you have him hanging on your lips.

“You left me,” Jungkook reminds you, staring into your eyes and he thinks he’s going to get lost in them. “Remember?”

“Oh, did I?” you gasp, and it makes him tongue his cheek. You’re playing this well. “I did, didn’t I?”

You wait a beat, and he knows what you’re going to ask before you even do.

“Did that hurt your pride?”

Jungkook takes his time to answer your question, letting you mull in silence. Partially to see if you’d grow uncomfortable, and partially because he isn’t sure if he wants to admit to it or not. It would be another hit to his ego and pride. But when he remembers the way you smiled when he declared you the winner and gave in, the choice is easy.

“You know it did.”

The answer satisfies you, your mouth splitting into a grin.

“And why’s that?”

When he meets your gaze, he can’t believe it’s his face that flushes, his breath that hitches, his pulse that triples, his voice that dies in his throat. That, even though Jungkook came prepared, you’re the one in power after all.

He exhales a quiet scoff and shakes his head. “You know why.”

The small laugh you let out then should probably offend him. And yet, all he can think about is how beautiful it is, how melodic and delicate. It’s ingrained in him already, replaying in his mind.

“What now?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “How do you want me to fix it, hm?” You put your hand on his chest, right above his heart. He stills. He’s sure you can feel the way it beats and thumps in there, loud and fast. “That broken heart of yours?”

This game you’re playing, the dance you’re dancing, he’s bad at it. You’re winning this without even trying. It was foolish, he realises, to have thought that coming here might allow him to even out the fields, score a point himself. You’re running circles around him without even running.

“Have dinner with me,” he whispers, unable to speak louder than this.

You tilt your head to the side. “You think that will help?”

“I think—” The words come out slowly. “—it will do a lot to mend my heart.”

coming sunday, january 30th 2022

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #linh.preview

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

Note

“it’s nothing. it’s just a bruise.” with Obi-wan?

Hello again, my friend!! Thanks you for the prompt!! This onee kinda got away from me so I posted it on Ao3, but you can read the whole thing under the cut too!

Read on Ao3

Anakin didn’t really know this Obi-Wan person all that well yet, but he could tell there was something wrong with him. Well, something wrong besides the quiet mourning he was clearly trying to keep hidden. He wasn’t all that successful, but Anakin wasn’t going to call him out on it.

Of course, Anakin was sad too. As if it wasn’t enough that his mother could not come with him, the man who had finally managed to free him was dead.

But Anakin knew that Obi-Wan was feeling the loss more acutely. Anakin could sense that Obi-Wan had held great respect, admiration and love for his late Master. He could also sense his grief, even if he was skilled at hiding it behind walls.

That didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the way Obi-Wan was pale and shaking slightly underneath all of his robes. He was sitting hunched forward on the little couch in their quarters, his elbows on his knees. His gaze was unfocused, and as far as Anakin could tell, he hadn’t eaten anything recently either.

“Mr. Kenobi sir?” Anakin said shyly.

Slowly, Obi-Wan’s gaze turned to Anakin. He looked like he was trying to focus his eyes. “I told you that you can just call me Master or Obi-Wan if you prefer,” he said softly.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin corrected. “Are you alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded the affirmative, but Anakin wasn’t convinced.

“You’re not looking so good.”

“I’m fine, Anakin.”

“Do you want me to get you something to eat?” Anakin actually had no idea how he would acquire food for Obi-Wan. He didn’t know where anything was, and even if he did, he didn’t know how to cook anything. But if Obi-Wan wanted something, Anakin would do his best to get it for him.

“No, I’m fine. Not really hungry.”

Anakin frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded sullenly. “I’m sure. I’m going to go to bed though. I know it’s early for you. You can stay out here and watch the holo if you want, I guess. Just… Don’t wander alone in the halls yet. I don’t want you to get lost.”

Anakin didn’t want to get lost either. The temple was huge and this morning when Obi-Wan had given him the tour, the other padawans stared at him. Even some of the knights and masters stared at him. No, he had no desire to leave the safety of their quarters just yet.

Anakin couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. This was officially his first night in the temple. They had arrived from Naboo this morning and they had gotten situated in the small apartment. He’d hoped Obi-Wan would have wanted to spend a little more time with him, getting to know him and all that.

“Okay, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said quietly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said, but the look on his face indicated the word felt weird on his lips. He shook his head. “Good night, Anakin.”

Anakin nodded at him as he took his leave.

Anakin sighed and flipped on the holo. He’d never had a holo before, but he quickly figured out how to work it. He stared at the moving images in wonderment, flipping through channel after channel, never settling on one thing – just content to watch the moving images.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard shuffling from the hallway behind him. He turned around and saw Obi-Wan stumbling towards the fresher. Anakin flicked off the holo and raced after Obi-Wan.

When he got to the fresher, Obi-Wan was already there, leaning heavily over the toilet and heaving into it.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked nervously. “Are you okay?”

Anakin cringed. Of course he wasn’t okay. It was a dumb question, though it didn’t seem to matter. Obi-Wan couldn’t answer him at the moment anyway.

Anakin tried to remember everything that his mother had ever done for him when he was sick. He remembered his mom rubbing his back. Slowly, Anakin approached Obi-Wan and laid a gentle hand on his back.

Obi-Wan yelped and jumped sideways as far as he could in his weakened state. Anakin yanked his hand back in alarm.

“What—”

Obi-Wan was breathing heavily and his eyes were squeezed shut.

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, his voice coming out smaller and squeakier than he would like.

“It’s nothing, it’s just a bruise,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“A bruise?”

“On my back,” Obi-Wan panted.

Anakin took a step closer to him. “Can I look?”

Obi-Wan looked a little unsure. “Yes,” he finally said.

With careful fingers, Anakin slowly lifted up Obi-Wan’s shirt. He gasped at the dark purple bruising all over his back. His stomach sank. He immediately turned and looked at the contents of the toilet and then back at Obi-Wan. It was only then that he realized there was blood on his lips and his chin.

“Obi-Wan, you need a healer,” Anakin said, panic rising in his voice. “You… you’re throwing up blood that’s not… when the slaves would get beaten too hard they…”

“Shhh, Anakin, it��s alright.”

“No!” Anakin shouted. “No, you’re… you’re dying and I—”

“I’m not dying,” Obi-Wan said. He put his hands on the ground and moved to stand up. It was an ill-conceived attempt. He fell back down to the ground with a soft thud. He looked up at Anakin but his eyes were unfocused. “Okay, maybe that’s not a good sign.”

Obi-Wan coughed and blood spluttered out of his mouth. “Yeah, not a good sign,” he murmured.

Anakin’s panic rose. “What do we do?”

Obi-Wan lay down fully on the tile floor. He glanced up at Anakin. “Go find a healer.”

“What?”

“In the halls of healing. Remember, I showed it to you this morning when I took you around the temple? Go there and find someone. They can help.”

Anakin nodded. “Okay,” he said, trying to make his voice sound even and sure. “Just stay here, don’t try to get up.”

“Don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

From the look on Obi-Wan’s face, Anakin could tell that he meant it to sound light-hearted, but it only added to Anakin’s worry. He gave Obi-Wan a parting glance before darting off into their quarters and out the front door. He ran in the direction of the halls of healing, or at least he ran in the direction he thought the halls of healing were in. The more he ran, the less familiar everything appeared. Anakin paused when he entered a great room with large pillars and beautiful art on all the walls. He had no idea where he was and his eyes welled up with tears.

“Hey little one,” a female voice said from behind him. “Are you okay?”

Anakin whirled around and came face to face with a tall, pink-skinned mon calamari woman. “Um.”

“You must be Anakin,” the woman said. “I’ve been very excited to meet you. Where’s your Master?”

The tears welling up in Anakin’s eyes spilled over.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, little one?”

“Obi-Wan is hurt and he... he sent me to get a healer but I— I don’t know where to go,” Anakin said around choked sobs.

The woman’s face turned serious. “He sent you to get a healer?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m a healer. Come with me,” she said. She reached out a webbed hand and Anakin took it, grateful for the direction and the physical comfort of it.

They made their way back to Obi-Wan.

***

An unshakeable feeling of heaviness was what greeted Obi-Wan when he woke up. He groaned and fluttered his eyes open. A figure stood before him, and his eyes focused to reveal Master Che. He groaned again.

“Glad to see you’re still with us,” she said. “Thank the Force Anakin was able to find Bant and they got to you when they did.”

“Huh?”

“You had your new Padawan worried sick. Poor kid,” Vokara said, shaking her head.

“‘kin?” Obi-Wan asked. “Where?”

“He’s fine. He’s with Bant right now. She’s showing him her medical instruments.”

“Oh. That’s good. What happened?”

“I was kind of hoping you would tell me that,” Vokara Che said, fixing him with a glare. “You had internal bleeding, Obi-Wan. Your kidneys were failing. There were massive bruises on your back. How did you even get those?

Oh. Oh yeah.

“During the fight with the… with the Sith. I fell off a catwalk and landed on another one below it. Landed on my back,” Obi-Wan said weakly.

“Obi-Wan that was three days ago,” Vokara said. “You’re lucky it wasn’t initially too severe.”

“Initially?”

“You would have been fine if you immediately got medical treatment.”

“I was busy,” Obi-Wan said simply. It was true. He had to tend to the hasty funeral arrangments and then the parade and then he had to take Anakin back to Coruscant and then he had to convince the Council to let him keep him and then… well then his body had started to give out on him. Vokara gave him a sympathetic look. He felt small underneath it.

“I know. But you need to take care of yourself. You have a Padawan now.”

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched.

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Vokara Che said. She squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be alright.”

He put his face in his hands and stifled a sob.

“It’ll be alright,” Vokara Che repeated. “Trust in the Force.”

Obi-Wan nodded, sniffed and steeled himself. “Right. Right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’ve been through a lot, young Kenobi.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he offered a simple nod.

“Is it alright if I go get Anakin?” Vokara asked. “He’s been dying to see you.”

“That’s fine,” Obi-Wan said. Vokara turned and left, presumably to retrieve Anakin.

In truth, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he wanted his brand new Padawan to see him like this, but he knew it was important for the boy to see that he was okay — that he still had someone in this strange new place to stand by his side.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin shouted as he burst through the door. Obi-Wan winced.

“Oh, sorry,” Anakin said in a whisper this time.

“It’s alright.”

“Are you okay?” Anakin asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, Anakin.”

“That’s good. I don’t really know anyone else here. Well, actually, I know Miss Bant now and she’s really nice, but I don’t really know anyone else and I like you and I—”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly. “Volume.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Obi-Wan played with a loose string on the edge of his blanket. He ripped a few of the stitches but stopped before he could do any more damage to the innocent garment. He could feel Anakin hovering awkwardly next to him.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know? You can go back to our quarters if you want.”

Anakin shook his head vigorously. “No, I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I– I don’t know how to get there.”

Oh. Right.

“Well, I’m sure Bant or one of the other healers would be more than willing to—”

“No!” Anakin said quickly. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the little wave of warmth that filled his chest. “Okay,” he said. He then patted the bedsheets and nodded his head. “Come on then.”

Anakin gave a wide, toothy grin before he climbed up and snuggled himself into the cramped little space right next to Obi-Wan.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Anakin asked.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said. “Yeah, I’m alright. Let’s just get some sleep okay?”

“Okay,” Anakin said softly, his eyelids already fluttering closed. “Goodnight, Master Obi-Wan.”

“Goodnight, Padawan.”

#my writing #thank you for the prompt!#tw: blood #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker

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capsgrl · 3 years

Text

Personal Angel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 7,903

Summary: Bucky Barnes joins the Avengers and finds himself drawn to the teams healer, but she’s keeping a secret. Will she finally heal him of the pain he experienced at the hands of Hydra.

Warnings: angst, blood, mentions of injury (only light detail), a couple of bad language words, let me know if I should add more.

Authors note: Please find 7k+ words of Bucky needing a hug and being the soft soldier he is. Reader is a healer and younger sibling of the Maximoff twins. Set after the events of Civil War except everyone loves each other and lives in harmony, nobody goes on the run. *breaks indicate change of POV*

Also posted on ao3

Growing up in Sokovia in a time of war was no picnic, but no matter how hard things were at times your parents gave you and your older twin siblings, Wanda and Pietro, the happiest childhood they possibly could. Until they couldn’t. Until tragedy struck and they were taken away from their three young children by a man named Stark.

Being the youngest, you looked up to the twins to guide you. They were your only family now and you’d follow them anywhere. So you did, you followed straight to Hydra and experiments in a science lab. There was never any doubt in your mind, wherever your family were, that’s where you belonged.

You were given the power of healing. With the help of the mind stone you were able to heal wounds and take the pain away from the injured. The first time you demonstrated your new powers to your handlers, the whole lab rejoiced. With your help, they now had an infallible army. The whole thing didn’t sit right with you, but your siblings assured you that it was a means to an end. Stark needed to pay for what he had taken from you.

It took a lot of practice for you to hone your skills. At first you couldn’t control them, and any time you touched someone, even accidentally, you would heal. The trouble with this was in order to heal them you absorbed their pain. It was only for a brief moment, but it was concentrated like a short, sharp burst. It was intense and it drained you, but eventually you learned to control it, and only use it when you chose to.

When Wanda and Pietro took off to begin their revenge plan they took you with them, but kept you hidden, kept you safe. It was only when they realised the true nature of the man, no robot, they were working for and switched to the side of good that they brought you out of the shadows and finally introduced you to the avengers.

You went to Sokovia, helping to evacuate people and heal the injured. It was exhausting but these people were innocent and they deserved your help. You were so busy you didn’t have time for fear, but when Wanda stepped onto the bus, the look on her face scared you more than anything ever had. Something bad had happened it was clear as day. Your fears were confirmed when you looked behind her to Clint, a lifeless Pietro in his arms.

Your world had suddenly got a little smaller, three had become two and it hurt. But you knew that whatever you were feeling was nothing compared to the pain of your sister, losing her twin, a connection that you could never understand now severed, and you did the only thing you could do in that moment. You threw your arms around her and absorbed it all, the pain, the grief, everything. It was the last thing you remembered before collapsing to the floor.

The next time you opened your eyes you were staring at the ceiling of the Avengers compound. Your new home. Wanda had assured you that it was the best place for you both and you couldn’t deny you felt more peaceful here than anywhere you’d been since you lost your parents.

You begged your sister not to reveal how your powers worked. Steve Rogers was a good man and wouldn’t want you to put yourself out for the team, but you wanted to help. She reluctantly agreed, on the condition that you promised not to reveal that you could heal emotional pain too. It always worried her that people would come to depend on you for their emotional needs, and the kind of affect it could have on your mental state. You readily agreed, and became an official Avenger, their resident healer, but your big sister also insisted you join her training with Steve and Natasha so you could learn to defend yourself.

The team continued to grow, until one day Steve introduced you to his latest recruit and best friend, Bucky Barnes. On the outside the man looked just like he did in the old photos you’d seen, just with slightly longer hair and a few more creases around his eyes. It was looking into his eyes that really gave away the changes. You could see a lifetime of pain and suffering in them, so much so that you knew no matter how similar he looked on the outside, he couldn’t be that same man on the inside.

You couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him to carry that pain around with him, and that thought alone spurred you on to do something that you’d not done since the day you comforted your grieving sister in Sokovia. You reached out your hand to shake his, and took just a little bit of that pain away.

B—-B

When Steve had asked him to come and stay with the team at the Avengers compound, Bucky was reluctant. After everything that happened in Berlin and with Tony he felt guilty. The Stark man had assured Steve that he understood that what happened to his parents was an act of The Winter Soldier and not Bucky, but he wasn’t ready to forgive yet. He assured Steve that it was fine for the new team to take residence in the compound, and headed back to the home he shared with Pepper, vowing to return when the time was right.

Bucky was nervous when his pal had taken him to the common room to properly introduce him to the team members he’d fought beside and against at the airport, but they all seemed really understanding. Going round shaking hands with everyone, his eyes finally landed on you. Steve introduced you as Y/N, and as you took his hand and spoke a soft ‘nice to meet you’ he felt overcome with a warm, calm feeling. A feeling he’d not felt since he was a young man before the war. It was almost like peace. Being around you made him feel lighter.

He came to learn that you were a healer, coming down to the med bag whenever Dr Cho needed your help. He found he wasn’t surprised by that at all, there seemed to be an air of calm about you that was soothing, at least to him anyway, not that he would tell anyone that. He’d barely spoken to you since he’d arrived at the compound. That first time he met you, you excused yourself quickly after shaking his hand and scurried off to your room. He couldn’t really blame you, you were probably afraid of him and wouldn’t be the first person to feel that way. There was something about you that made Bucky want to get to know you, but he was still too fragile to try to forge new relationships, relying heavily on Steve when he needed company, but spending the majority of his time alone.

The first time Bucky saw you use your powers, he was mesmerised. Steve always insisted that the team headed straight to med bat after missions for a once over even if they felt fine, which is where he found himself after returning from a trickier than expected mission with Steve and Natasha. The sound of the door behind him opening caught his attention.

“Hey Doc, what have we got today?”, you asked as you entered the room.

“Well, Miss Romanoff here took a bullet to the arm, no major damage has been done, and the bullet has been removed, but we could use some healing here if you don’t mind,” the Doctor said barely looking up from her clipboard.

“Of course. Hold still Nat,” you warned as you gently laid your hands over the injury site causing the Black Widow to wince. When you moved your hand away a moment later, Natasha’s arm looked as good as new. It was like witnessing a miracle.

The man was shaken out of his thoughts by your voice. “Want me to fix up that shiner you got there?”, you asked, pointing to the eye that was currently swollen to the point that it wasn’t fully open.

“Uh, no it’s OK, thank you though,” he uttered quietly “the serum will have this healed up in no time.” It was the truth, the serum healed him quickly just as it did Steve, although the throbbing in his head almost made him reconsider. But someone like him didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such magic, he felt that he deserved to feel ever ounce of pain, no matter how many times his best friend tried to assure him that he didn’t.

“Well you know where I am if you change your mind.” She offered, reaching out to gently touch his forearm, and once again he felt a feeling of tranquility wash over him. It was like the warmth was spreading from the point that their skin touched, all through his body. He couldn’t stop staring at her hand, that is until she pulled it away and all but sprinted out of the door.

B—-B

You jolted awake, taking a minute to examine your surroundings before realising you were definitely still in your bed, in your room at the compound. It was the middle of the night and the sound of someone screaming had woken you. You strained to listen, and you couldn’t be sure but the screams sounded awfully like they were coming from Bucky. It was probably a nightmare you reasoned, but you decided to go check anyway, just in case. You crept down the hallway towards the sound which was indeed coming from the room belonging to the man in question. Deciding you needed to see with your own eyes that it was just a dream and not something more sinister, you gently pushed the door open and peeked in.

The sight you were met with almost broke your heart. Bucky was thrashing around, tangled in the sheets, and even in the dark you could see the wrinkled set of his brow. The dim light creeping in from the hallway illuminated the sweat covering his face, neck and the part of his chest that was peeking out from the covers. It was amazing that he hadn’t woken himself up yet you mused, but another loud wail shook you out of your thoughts. Spurring into action before you could second guess yourself, you ran lightly to his side and reached out to brush the hair from his damp forehead, and resting your fingers there as gently as you could, you began to absorb the pain.

He visibly started to calm, the sounds stopping almost immediately and limbs slowly relaxing. You were starting to feel weak and knew that you needed to leave soon before you passed out on the floor next to his bed. You weren’t sure how you’d explain that away in the morning. When you felt like you couldn’t take anymore you pulled your hand back and stumbled back to your room, flopping onto your bed and crying yourself to sleep. The relaxed look on his face the next morning only cemented your plan in your mind. You would do everything you could to ease the nightmares for this tortured solider. A brief moment of pain was nothing compared to a whole night of reliving the worst moments of your life.

After the first few nights of creeping into the former assassins room you had managed to detect some sort of a pattern, and adjusted your sleep schedule accordingly. You didn’t dare tell Wanda what you were doing. You knew she didn’t approve of you using your power to emotionally heal people, further supported by the lecture you got when you’d tried to take her grief after Pietro died. The red head would be absolutely furious with you.

You were exhausted from the late night healing sessions and were worried people would start noticing the bags under your eyes. You’d not done this much emotional healing before but it was worth it to see how much more relaxed Bucky was looking, and you weren’t the only one to notice, judging by the conversation you were listening in on in the kitchen that morning.

“Hey bud, you’re looking really well rested lately, have the nightmares finally stopped?”, Steve asked as he grabbed a water from the fridge, cooling off from his morning work out.

“No, I don’t think they ever will to be honest. But they feel different now, duller if that makes sense? I dunno, I can’t explain it, but they don’t seem to wake me up anymore. I’ve not slept this well in decades.” He chuckled in response, following the man out of the kitchen.

You hid your smile behind your coffee cup before taking a sip and turning back to your breakfast but you could feel your sister's eyes on you, staring a hole into the side of your head.

“Can I help you?”, you asked with exaggerated sweetness like only an annoying little sister could. You didn’t dare look at her though.

“I know what you’re doing.” She stated matter of factly.

“Hey, we had a deal, no looking in my mind without my permission”, you hissed at her angrily.

“I didn’t. I’ve seen you go into his room at night. You’re either healing his pain or fucking him,” she said with a raised eyebrow before smirking and adding “although both can have the same relaxing affect”.

“I am not fucking him and please keep your voice down”, you whisper shouted. You thought you were being careful and suddenly panicked that someone else might have seen.

“Why Y/N? You don’t even really know him so why are you risking your own health to fix his?”, your sister asked gently. She didn’t seem angry, just confused.

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t bear the amount of pain I saw in his eyes the first time we met. Everything that happened to him, a lifetime of pain. I wanted to take it away, he doesn’t deserve it. And I know it’s exhausting and it’s not good for me blah blah blah but I can’t help it. I can’t stop myself.” You finished your rant by slumping back in your chair in defeat, your eyes staring at the ceiling.

Of all things you expected Wanda to say, or possibly even yell, the last thing you expected was a quiet “Does he know?”. You shook your head and she sat silent for a moment, contemplating before adding “maybe you should get to know him. You know, make friends. You might find you can help him without using your powers.”

B—-B

Bucky sat on the quinjet waiting to take off for the next mission and couldn’t help feeling nervous. He’d been sleeping so well at the compound lately, but this mission would mean staying away for a few days and he was worried about his nightmares coming back when he was possibly sharing a room with his team mates. The only thing giving him comfort this time was that Y/N was joining the team. Steve had asked you to accompany them as the mission was expected to last a few days, and Bucky couldn't stop himself from smiling when he heard the news. Despite the fact that he’d hardly got to know you yet, your presence relaxed him more than he could explain.

He must have been staring at you this whole time because the sounds of Steve clearing his throat broke him out of his reverie. Bucky turned to look at his friend and was met with a knowing look. “Go talk to her,” he encouraged. But he wasn’t feeling brave enough for that, and he didn’t even know what he’d say, so he just rolled his eyes and got to work sharpening his knives.

The mission had been a hard one, they were going to infiltrate three suspected Hydra bases and take them down, and it affected Bucky much more than he would care to admit. It didn’t help that he'd slept so poorly in the little basic rooms they’d stopped at in between. He thought logically that he’d sleep better sharing a room with his best friend, having the comfort of another person there, not being alone, but he didn’t. The nightmares plagued him again, worse than they’d been in a long time.

He was agitated, he just wanted to get back to the only place he seemed to be able to sleep, and maybe sleep for a week. He sat leaning forward, elbows leaning on his knees, leg bouncing up and down, and was surprised when you sat down next to him.

“Wanna talk about it?”, you whispered. His head whipped around to you so fast he's surprised his neck didn’t break. You must have noticed the stunned look on his face, because you quickly added “sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I just uh, I figured that this particular mission might have been harder for you than usual. I’m sorry again.” You looked away then, and Bucky was worried you were going to leave. He liked it when you were nearby, so he blurted out the first thing that came into his head “It was”. You looked at him again, this time with sadder eyes. It felt like you were reading his mind, but he was sure you didn’t have that power. “I’m not ready to talk about it, I’m sorry, but thank you. For asking I mean. I appreciate it.”

“I understand. But if you do ever want to talk, about anything, I’m a great listener.” You reached out then, placing your hand in his bouncing knee to stop the movement and he felt it, that familiar warmth spreading from where you touched him, through his whole body, relaxing him. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his cheeks, it was like it was involuntary. He turned to look at you then, and you were smiling right back, a soft warm smile. You were so close that he could smell your shampoo and it was intoxicating. Your eyes fluttered slightly and he looked down at your lips. He didn’t even know you but he was suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss you.

Unfortunately, the moment was broken by a voice that never failed to irritate the super soldier. “Quit making eyes with Y/N man. We need you up front.”

“Coming Wilson,” he sighed as he turned and watched you all but run away. You slept the rest of the flight home.

Once the jet landed, Bucky went straight to his room to shower and nap. Feeling much more human now, he ventured to the kitchen for food where he once again saw Sam.

“So you and Y/N huh,” he smirked, folding his arms and leaning back against the counter next to where Bucky was working on a sandwich. “Sorry if I interrupted a moment there. She’s a sweet girl though, I think she’d be good for you.”

Despite his usual irritation with the man, Bucky found that he was actually a really good person to talk to, his experience with social work meaning he often had useful advice. “I like her,” he admitted. “I can’t explain it, I just feel better when she’s around, but I don’t know how to talk to her. One minute I think she wants to talk and then she runs away from me. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Well, you are an intense dude”, Sam laughed. “Seriously though, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Just talk to her, keep it light, ‘hey how’s it going”, you know that sort of thing.”

Bucky was about to respond when he heard someone call his name. He turned to see Wanda in the doorway, and he could feel his cheeks heat up at being caught talking about her sister. “We need to talk” she stated, in a tone that caused Sam to grab his food and scarper with a quiet good luck on his way out.

“Wanda, I’m not sure how much you heard but…” Bucky started, but was quickly cut off by the red heads raised hand.

“There’s something you don’t know about Y/N. Healing physical injuries isn’t the only power she has, she can also take away emotional pain.”

Bucky was stunned and couldn’t seem to form a more comprehensive response than “wow, I didn’t know”.

“Nobody knows except me, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. When she takes the emotional pain away, she absorbs it, and I don’t want her to become an emotional crutch for anyone, I’m afraid that it will affect her mental state negatively. I know the team would never intentionally hurt her, but I can’t risk it. You understand right?”

“Of course, I won’t tell a soul. But why are you telling me this, aren’t you worried I’ll do just that?” Bucky questioned.

“You already are, you just don’t know it”, Wanda quipped. “She’s been healing you. At night when she hears you having nightmares she comes in and takes the pain away. All it takes is a touch, and I suspect she might be doing it at other times too, although I couldn’t be sure”.

Suddenly everything makes sense now. Why he always felt better in your presence. He thought you were just a tactile person but all those gentle touches that warmed his heart were times you were healing him. You were the reason he was sleeping so soundly at night.

“I swear I had no idea Wanda, you gotta believe me”, he pleaded.

“I do, I think. But I just wanted you to know, because everytime she takes your pain away, she feels it. Only for a moment, but the worse the pain for the person, the more intensely she feels it. It’s really draining her, and I don’t want to begrudge you the comfort but she’s my sister and I’m worried”.

Bucky felt absolutely awful. He’d never want to inflict his pain on anyone else, even for a moment, especially not someone as good as you. Someone who helped him so selflessly. It was his cross to bear, he made his bed and he intended to lie in it. Cold and alone. “I won’t let her do it anymore”, he swore to Wanda before leaving her alone in the kitchen with his sandwich. He’d suddenly lost his appetite.

B—-B

Things had been weird since your first mission, you could feel it. Bucky had been avoiding you like the plague, and you felt terrible. You’d wanted to get to know him, to try to be friends like Wanda suggested, but you’d gone about it the wrong way and clearly upset him. He’d even taken to locking his bedroom door at night preventing you from soothing his nightmares. You were sure he wasn’t sleeping again, but you’d not seen so much as a glimpse of him in weeks so couldn’t verify that.

Why would he lock his door at night? The bedrooms were in a secure floor so there was no danger of intruders and FRIDAY would alert you all anyway. Then it struck you. Did he know? Had he found out that you’d be coming in his room at night to heal him? There’s no way he could know surely, unless someone had told him. Just then Wanda came into the common room and plopped herself down on the couch next to you, and you remembered how protective your big sister could be.

“I’ve not seen Bucky around recently, have you spoken to him at all?”, you asked nonchalantly. “Nope,” was all the answer you got.

“You sure about that?”, you pressed, giving her your best sister stare down. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know. “Wanda! How could you? Jesus he must be so mad at me, no wonder he’s not speaking to me”, you shouted incredulously.

“I’m sorry, but I was worried about what you were doing to yourself. You're my baby sister and I love you. If you wouldn’t listen to me I thought you might listen to him.”

“We’ll he’s not even speaking to me now so that was a big fail sis, well done,” you seethed. At that moment Steve and Sam walked in.

“Oh I wondered why tin man’s been so mopey lately, lovers quarrel?” Sam questioned teasingly. Steve elbowed him in the side lightly and pointed down the corridor. “He’s in the gym,” the soldier added by way of explanation.

As soon as you reached the gym you could see how tired Bucky looked through the glass door. His eyes were dark and heavy, his eyebrows turned down and his hits weren’t landing on the punch bag with their usual impact.

You stepped in quietly, then thought better of sneaking up on a super soldier and cleared your throat. “Hi Bucky, can we talk a minute?”

The man looked up and then tiredly gestured to the bench at the side of the room where his bag was sat. He sat down and started unwrapping his flesh hand. He was obviously waiting for you to speak first so you took a deep breath to steady yourself and started.

“Firstly, I just wanted to apologise. I know that Wanda told you about me, uh, you know…” you trailed off. God this was embarrassing. “I’m so sorry. I realise that was a total violation of your privacy and also really creepy, but I promise you it was coming from a good place. I was trying to help not, you know, be a peeping Tom or anything.” You blushed at that, remembered the times you’d seen his beautiful chiselled pecs, and those gorgeous biceps and powerful thighs whenever they poked out of the covers. He didn’t need to know about those thoughts.

He chuckled at that and you felt yourself relax slightly. “Trust me, that is one of the least creepy things that’s happened to me in my 100 odd years, doll. Apology accepted”. You couldn’t help but chuckle back.

“Well thank you. I assume that's the reason you’ve been avoiding me?” You questioned nervously. When he shook his head your heart sank. Did you do something else? Then it hit you. “Of course me healing you without your consent is equally as weird, so again I apologise. I just wanted to help but I can see that I probably went about it all wrong.”

Bucky shook his head vehemently then. “God no, you think I’m mad at you? How could I be mad at you, you’ve got a heart of gold and you have helped me so much since Steve brought me here. Honestly, I don’t think I’d have felt so comfortable here if it hadn’t been for you. I could never understand why I always felt so at peace around a near stranger, but as soon as Wanda explained your powers to me it all made sense. But I would never want to hurt you Y/N, and the thought of you taking on just a fraction of this pain made me feel awful. You don’t deserve that and me avoiding you was just me trying to protect you.”

You were relieved at his confession. He wasn’t mad. You sighed and relaxed fully leaning back against the wall. “I promise you it’s not that bad. Most of the time. It only lasts for a moment, and sometimes if it’s only mild pain I barely even feel it. Like when I heeled Steve’s bruised ribs on that overnight because he couldn’t sleep. I hardly even flinched,” you said bumping your shoulder with his. “But if you don’t want me to do it anymore, I promise I won’t.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me. More than you could know. But I think it’s about time I tried to overcome these demons on my own.” You nodded at that. He had a point, you had become a crutch without him even knowing. You got up to leave when he grabbed your hand to stop you. “If I’m doing this, I think I’m gonna need a friend. What do ya say?” He asked, looking up at you with a hopeful grin.

“I’d love to be your friend”, you replied. If you couldn’t help him with your power, offering moral support would be the next best thing.

B—-B

The months after your talk in the gym had been the best in Bucky’s long life. You’d really started to relax around him, the conversations came easy, both when you were all with the team and if you were hanging out alone.

It was the times that you hung out alone he enjoyed the most. He could really be himself then, without worrying about knowing looks from Steve and Sam, or worrying whether Wanda was going to try and read his mind to find out his intentions with her sister. He wasn’t even sure he was ready to confront those feelings himself. He told himself that he just wanted to get to know you, but deep in his heart he knew that he was falling for you.

You laughed together, he told you stories about life in the 30s and 40s, his family, a young pre-serum Steve, and anything else you wanted to know. In turn you taught him all about modern technology, helped him pick out some more modern day clothes and even took him to get a haircut. He couldn’t help but notice the way you stared for a little too long when he came out with his hair cropped shorter, before nodding that you liked it.

The nightmares were back and almost as aggressive as before, but when he walked out into the kitchen one night to make himself a tea and found Y/N sat there waiting for him with one already made, he found himself opening up to you. He’d never tell you all the gory details that plagued his mind at night, but even revealing just a little bit of those late night visions and the feelings that followed, made him feel better. You never judged, just listened, and not even the thought that Sam was right about how he should talk about his feelings more could diminish that safe feeling he had with you.

You’d even started touching him again, completely innocent touches like leaning your head on his shoulder, linking your hand through his arm when you were walking around town, but still sending a warmth through his body like you were healing him. And maybe you were healing him, he thought, just without using your powers.

Steve and Sam had been bugging him for a while to ask you out properly, but for some reason today when they started their usual post run chorus of ‘when are you going to ask Y/N out’, he was feeling bold and said he’d do it today.

So that’s where he found himself an hour later, after showering, changing and pacing circles in his room to try and gain back some of the quickly waning courage. He knocked on your door and waited nervously. You answered and invited him in, and he mentally chastised himself for not bringing flowers. He was nervous, but decided to just suck it up and power through.

“Hey doll, uh I just wanted to ask, see I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you these last few months, more than I’ve enjoyed anything in a really long time.” He was messing this up he knew it, and you were just stood there staring at him and not speaking. The young Bucky from the 40s who was charming and good with the ladies mentally kicked him to get on with it. He could do this. So he continued. “So I just wanted to know if you wanted to go to dinner with some time.” He finally let out a breath and tried to relax whilst he waited for your response.

“Like a date?”, you asked and you looked shocked and he panicked, thinking he’d got all the signs wrong and wondering how he could back track when you smiled and said “I’d love to go out for dinner with you, definitely as a date. I honestly thought you’d never ask, like ever.”

Bucky finally relaxed at that. You said yes, you wanted to go out with him. He didn’t think he could be any happier right now. “Good. Great! I’m going on a mission with Steve and Sam tomorrow so how’s Friday night?”

“Perfect”, you smiled and he honestly didn’t think he’d ever get over seeing you smile at him like that. He was head over heels.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d agree, so I didn’t actually come up with a plan. I’ll text you OK?” He assured you as he backed out the door, wanting to keep looking at you as long as he could. When he got through the doorway he stopped, still smiling like an idiot. You walked up to the door, stood up on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t wait Buck”, you whispered as you stepped back and shut the door.

B—-B

The short 2 day mission turned out to be the next big bad, and the three men had ended up having to radio in for back up. It was going to be all hands on deck, which meant that when the second quinjet arrived you were on it. Wanda had asked you to stay behind but you wanted to help, and especially wanted to be there in case a certain someone needed you.

You were out in the field helping get innocent bystanders to safety and healing up the Avengers so they could get back into the fight. You could feel it taking a toll on your body, your steps becoming more slow and sluggish as time went on. After getting a young family to safety you turned to head back to the next victim needing help when you saw what appeared to be an axe flung in your direction. You froze, your brain tired from all the healing you’d done and not thinking fast enough.

What you weren’t prepared for was the shove you felt at your side, sending you toppling to the ground. You scrambled up to see the sight of Bucky, laying on the ground at your feet, the weapon in question lodged firmly in his stomach.

“No no no, Bucky what did you do?!” You screamed as you dropped to your knees to assess the damage. Steve and Wanda were at your side in an instant, the rest of the team continuing the fight around you. You felt panicked, terrified of the sight in front of you as the blood flowed out of the wound and over your hands at a steady rate. You knew exactly what you needed to do, and you needed to do it now before it was too late and the blood loss became too much.

Taking in a big breath you steeled yourself and started giving out orders. “Steve, I need you to remove the axe, and Wanda, you need to put up a shield to protect us from further damage while I heal him. Ok, on three guys, one…” but before you could count any further the man in question croaked out your name. “Doll please, it’s OK, just let me go. I’m old, it’s my time.”

The fact that he would even suggest such a thing made you livid. “Bucky, how could you say that? You saved me, so now I’m going to save you and we don’t have time to argue this,” you shouted as your knees started to become damp with his blood.

“C’mon Buck, let her do it. She does it all the time, no big deal right,” Steve encouraged, clapping you in the shoulder whilst you nodded your head in agreement.

Wanda rested her hand gently on your shoulder then, an action that you were sure was meant to soothe, but only irritated you as you knew exactly what was coming. “You’ve never healed a wound this severe before, you don’t know what it will do to you.”

At Steve’s confused look your sister began a quick explanation on how your powers truly worked but you drowned the conversation out as Bucky weakly reached a hand up to your face. “Please Y/N,” he begged, “I don’t wanna hurt you, I love you. Just let me go.” But hearing those three words, from the man you loved, a man who was fading in front of you, just further cemented your decision in your mind. Looking at the Captain beside you, you whispered “Steve, please” and you knew you had him. He nodded grimly and on the count of three he lifted the axe, and you replaced it with your hands.

As you placed your hands over the oozing wound, you tried to concentrate everything you had into the prone man’s body, every ounce of love and every morsel of strength you had left in you. You sent a silent prayer up to heaven that you’d get to tell this man you loved him too and share your first kiss. You could feel your body weakening, and were vaguely aware that the steady flow over your hands seemed to be slowing, but you couldn’t hold it much longer, and you hoped it would be enough. Suddenly the overwhelming urge to sleep invaded your senses and you collapsed right there on top of Bucky’s chest.

You awoke to the sound of beeping. Your eyelids felt heavy and it took a few moments for you to blink them fully open, but when you finally did you were greeted by the sight of your older sister.

“Oh god, I’m so relieved you’re awake!” She cried brushing your hair off of your forehead in a motherly gesture.

“Bucky,” you managed to croak out through your dry mouth. Wanda handed you a sip of water before answering. “He’s fine. He’s currently receiving blood to replace what he lost but you did it, you healed him. Dr Cho called it a miracle.”

“Oh thank god,” you sighed “and the battle?”

“We won,” your sister informed you “and you young lady are going to be fine. The doc ran extensive tests and seems to think that you just kind of passed out from the pain, and then went into a deep sleep from the shock. But it could have been much worse, you need to be more careful.”

“In this line of work?” You joked, causing her to roll eyes. “When can I get out of here?”

At that moment, your Captain stepped into the room. “The doctor will be in to give you a once over in a moment, then you’re good to go,” he informed you. “I was just wondering if I could have a moment?” He asked tentatively. Your sister excused herself and left the two of you alone.

Steve sat down in the now empty chair. He looked tired, and you guessed he must have been sat by Bucky’s side for a good while. You were glad he had someone there.

“I wanted to thank you Y/N,” he started. “If you hadn’t been there, I would have lost my best friend all over again. The fact that it caused you so much hurt to heal him, well that is something I can never repay. I feel terrible for letting you do it, it was selfish of me.” He looked so guilty that it made you sad.

“I was going to do it anyway Steve, whether you agreed or not. There’s just no way I could have sat there and let him go.” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the thought of things ending before they’d even really started.

You knew Steve understood, after everything he’d been through to get his friend back he knew exactly how you felt. “Well I’m extremely grateful for that stubborn streak of yours, but now that Wanda’s filled me in on all the facts surrounding your gift we’re going to have to have a conversation about some new work protocols,” the man scolded, his captain's voice firmly back. Clearly reading the sense of dread in your face he added, “but now we have more pressing matters. There’s someone down the hall that’s desperate to see you.”

B—-B

Bucky was fed up. He hated hospitals, he’d spent far too many years of his life being poked and prodded and he was done with it. He’d laid in this bed for 2 days waiting for you to wake up and he couldn’t help but replay the last time he saw you in his mind.

He was laying on the ground, a pain searing through his stomach, when suddenly he felt a familiar warmth. A warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time, spreading from the wound throughout his whole body. This time though, the feeling was different, it was more somehow. He’d never really believed in god, or any kind of divine being, not after everything that happened to him in the past. But that feeling, he could only imagine it was how it would feel to be touched by an angel. Suddenly the pain was gone but he could still feel a heavy weight on his chest. He looked down to discover the weight he was feeling was you.

Bile had risen in this throat when he realised what had happened. Y/N had healed him, hurting yourself in the process. Wanda was shaking you, trying to wake you. Steve was checking your pulse, assuring the redhead that it was still very much there. He lifted you off Bucky’s chest, and carried you quickly to the quinjet. Wanda helped the injured soldier up and to the jet too, where he sat next to you holding your hand until Steve landed back at the compound, the medics ready to greet you all straight from the ramp.

Bucky hadn’t seen you since they’d whisked you away for testing. They’d taken him to a separate room where he was given blood to make up for what he’d lost on the battlefield. He kept asking if you were OK and if he could see you, but was told to stay put until they knew more.

As he laid there with his eyes closed his thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, followed by Steve’s voice. “You have a visitor,” he announced simply.

Bucky sighed, not feeling up for visitors at the moment. “If it’s bird brain again tell him I’m dead” he grouched. Not hearing the comeback he was expecting from his sharp tongued friend, he opened his eyes, and almost pinched himself to check if he was dreaming.

“You’re awake, oh god doll are you ok?” He asked, trying to get out of bed and go to you, forgetting about his IV and the other wires connected to him.

“Stay put,” you said rushing towards him, gently pushing him back into the bed. “I’m fine, just had a nice long sleep.”

“You scared the shit outta me. I told you to let me go. My life is not worth more than yours.” Suddenly aware that his fear could be mistaken for anger he softened his voice. “But thank you. I owe you everything.”

You just smiled back at him that beautiful smile he worried he’d never see again. “Actually, you just owe me a date.” You reached out your hand to hold his and he couldn’t resist placing a kiss in your knuckles. “As soon as I’m all fixed up and out of here, I’m all yours.” And he was. He knew now that he would only ever be yours for as long as you’d have him.

You stayed and chatted with him a while longer, never letting go of his hand, but after a while he could see your eyes falling. “Go home doll, you need your rest,” he tried to encourage.

“I am tired but I just don’t want to go,” you pouted.

“Well, you could hop up here and take a nap next to me. It’s a small bed though we might have to snuggle real close”, he suggested with his most charming smile.

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled sleepily. You took off your shoes and climbed up in the bed next to him. He lifted the blanket for you to slip under, and you immediately rested your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around to hold you close. He thought you’d fallen asleep, and he laid there watching your steady breaths until you spoke again. “When I was healing you, all I could think about was the fact that I’d never told you I loved you and I’d never kissed you, and I knew that if I never saw you again it would be my biggest regret. So I’m telling you now. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss that he’d been dying for since he met you. Your lips were so soft, and your body felt so warm and so right pressed against him. The kiss started out slow and loving, Bucky pouring all the love he felt into it, but when you slipped your hand up to gently tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and deepening the kiss, things got a bit more heated. The sound you made when your tongues finally met was almost enough to make him lose control and he slid his hand down from where it was stroking your lower back over your hip and down to your thigh. He was just about to pull your leg up and over his so he could show you just how much you were affecting him when you were interrupted by an alarm. You pulled back, panic on your face and he couldn’t help but laugh. “You just got my heart racing,” he teased, nodding at the heart rate monitor that was slowly calming back down.

You laughed then and gently shoved his shoulder. You were now both lying on your sides facing each other. “Well, that’s one item ticked off the bucket list,” you quipped, before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “To be continued,” you joked as you wiggled your eyebrows, “now let’s sleep.”

As you both snuggled back down in the tiny hospital bed, Bucky kissed the top of your hair and whispered quietly “goodnight angel.” He would never admit it to anyone but he’d missed the feeling of you healing him, the warm feeling that engulfed him when your power flowed through him was like nothing he’d ever felt before, he could understand why Wanda was concerned that people would come to rely on it too much.

But as you laid there asleep in his arms a different kind of warmth enveloped him, and as he slipped off into a restful sleep he realised that he didn’t need your powers to heal him, your love was enough, his personal angel.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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destieltropecollection · 3 years

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Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 3: Angst with a Happy Ending

39 fics under the readmore

Conditional Miracle | @vampamber

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,551 Main Tags/Warnings: season 12 finale, in-canon temporary character death, love confession Summary: Chuck can bring Castiel back to life, but only on one condition: Dean has to tell Castiel how he feels about him. Not that "You're family, Cas" stuff, but how Dean actually feels. A coda for s12e23 "All Along the Watchtower" (a bit late, but better late than never)

Sharp edges | @chaoticdean

Rating: General Word Count: 1,638 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, (although he does come back at the very end), Temporary Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt, Angst with a Happy Ending, Letters, Five Stages of Grief, post spn 15x18spn coda, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, written several months before the actual episode Summary: Castiel told him he loved him right before getting swallowed up by the Empty. Sam told him to talk, but words won’t come out, and really, how is he supposed to tell anyone how it feels to lose everything? So he writes. Letters on napkins, motel notepads, paperback books. He writes as he goes through every steps of grief, until finally there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

What the Water Gave Him | @mattzerella-sticks

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,794 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Canon, Implied/Reference Character Death, Sam Finds Out Summary: It was over. Chuck lost, Sam and Dean can live their lives how they want them. But their victory wasn't without losses. The biggest upset nearly taking Dean out of the game, happening so close to the final battle. Now he's on the other side, alive against all odds, but Sam knows he isn't happy. Not truly happy since the Empty stole his best friend. But there's a chance they can save him. A slim chance. A risk that Dean's willing to take despite every logical nerve in Sam's body screaming at him to look for better options. That threading a needle this small is too dangerous. That they don't have to take on another big bad, not anymore. That they don't have to risk their lives anymore. Dean is far past the point of listening. Dead set on this mission, Sam can only watch. And pray his brother proves him wrong.

A Classic Fear Of Rejection | @vampamber

Rating: General Word Count: 1,841 Main Tags/Warnings: pining, anxious Cas, Dean has self worth issues, love confession Summary: Castiel has been in love with Dean for almost ten years now. Ever since he'd raised the Righteous Man from perdition, actually. But Dean appears to be straight, so the angel just pined for him instead, fearing rejection. At Sam's insistence, Castiel finally admits his feelings, and it turns out that the angel may have been wrong about the elder Winchester's orientation.

The Things You Almost Say (But Never Do) | @wingsdestiel

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,967 Main Tags/Warnings: Light Angst, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonverse, Season 11 Summary: Team Free Will hasn't been much of a team lately, and Castiel wishes that Dean would stop avoiding everything.

Forget Me Not | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,932 Main Tags/Warnings: top Castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Car Accidents, Hospitals, Amnesia, Temporary Amnesia, Therapy, Makeup Sex, Marriage Proposal, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: A tragic accident during an argument leaves Cas with a head injury and amnesia, but Dean is determined to stay by his husband's side, even when the memories that return are painful. Can they move past the memories?

Forgetting Your Blues | @amirosebooks

Rating: Mature Word Count: 3,440 Main Tags/Warnings: Season 12 finale fix-it, amnesia, temporary main character death, fluff and angst, getting together, openly bisexual Dean Winchester Summary: Dean Jones doesn't know his real name. He woke up on a public park bench a few months back with an empty wallet and a driver's license listing the name Dean Jones with his picture. The name doesn't feel right on his tongue, but he doesn't remember what part is wrong. The cop who found him in the park got Dean a job in a local diner. The diner feels comfortable to Dean. He understands the rhythm of the place, the ebb and flow of the people and food, even if he's clearly never carried a tray of hot plates in his life. He settles into his new life. He makes new friends. He takes beautiful women and men and people to his bed for comfort on long nights. He has nightmares about blood covering his hands. Who is he? Why has no one come looking for him? What has he done? Why did he fall apart when he saw a guy wearing a tan trenchcoat?

I NEED YOU | @cooloddball

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,675 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Smut, Making up Summary: Sam is so done with Dean and Cas' bullshit. Time to get some things sorted out.

Even if the sky gets rough | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,360 Main Tags/Warnings: Fuck Or Die, cursed!Dean, dubcon, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings Summary: Dean can’t believe he got cursed again. Only this time it’s a lot worse, because if he can’t find someone to fuck him… well, he dies.

spes alit et falit. | @celestialsilhouette

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5,524 Main Tags/Warnings: djinn fic, angst with a happy ending, first time Summary: ~hope sustains and deceives~ Dean wakes up with a gasp. He shoots up in his bed, panting, heart pounding, and wide awake. He grips the sheets in his hands tightly and swivels his head to look around the room, making a half-aborted movement to reach under the pillows for the gun he knows always lies there, the smooth metal familiar and comforting. He doesn’t recognize where he is.

Don't Call Me Demon | @angzlicas

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,432 Main Tags/Warnings: Demon!Dean, MOC!Dean, Human Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Smut, Canon Compliant, Top!Dean, Bottom!Cas Summary: Dean’s shouting at this point, his eyes pure black again, and Castiel can feel the anger and panic tainting the room. It’s charged with emotion, even though most demons are incapable of feeling anything other than hatred and malice. It feels like fear. Or the one where Cas wants to take the mark from Dean

Life in prison | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7,084 Main Tags/Warnings: Hurt Dean Winchester, Dean had to steal food to eat, Dean had sex for money in this, Thief Dean Winchester, almost murderer Castiel, Semi-Public Sex, implied bottom dean Winchester, Non-Penetrative Sex, Soft Dean Winchester, almost rape (non Destiel), Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, First Time, Alternate Universe - PrisonPrisonAlternate Universe, Prison Sex Summary: When Dean gets arrested for stealing food, he has to face prison at 21. He is scared and his cellmate seems a bit harsh too. Will he warm up to him eventually? Or could he even fall in love with a prisoner?

Four of Swords | @mattzerella-sticks

Rating: No Rating Word Count: 7,127 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Canon, Human Cas, Baths, Dean Winchester has Self-Worth Issues, Castiel Takes Care of Dean Summary: The Four of Swords, in the present position, means you don't want to interact with the rest of the world. Because of stress, you need to spend some time with yourself - unhealthy always being 'on'. That the healthiest thing to do is to escape. Dean might crave escape, but it's not something he thinks he can have. Something he deserves, even. After his and Sam's most recent hunt, this cancerous feeling has grown heavy and weighs him down. He cannot escape on his own, as best he tries. Luckily a guardian 'former angel' angel swoops in at his lowest. Helps pick up the pieces as best he can and lovingly put them back together. But he can only do so much. The rest is up to Dean. Can Dean take those final steps, say those final words, and finally free himself?

Free To Be Us | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8,011 Main Tags/Warnings: Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Anal Sex, Switching, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Claiming Bites, Semi-Public Sex, Kidnapping, emancipation, broken bonds, Suicide attempt mentioned, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Dystopia Summary: In a Dystopian world, Alphas and Omegas are rare. So rare that they meet only at semi-annual, semi-corrupt conventions organized by Betas, all for the purpose of breeding. Dean is one such Alpha, prized more for his seed than for himself, and untouched. Raised to value the system, he's about to have his world turned upside down, and it all starts with a decadent scent.

Not Here for Me | @mattzerella-sticks

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 8,113 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Humans, Alternate Universe - 2000s, Gay Bars, Closeted Dean Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, references to Dean's bad childhood Summary: If he had the choice, Dean never would have stepped foot inside this place. But Sam was curious - and curious is a hell of a lot better than the depression that clung to him day after day since Jess left him. So Dean swallows his pride, joins Sam as his babysitter. So he won't get find himself in any trouble. Trouble, however, is more likely to find Dean. In the bowels of his personal hell, can Dean resist temptations that have plagued him his entire life? Or will someone descend and lend a hand, showing Dean that the darkness he imagined only lived inside his own mind. And all that he feared was not as he seemed if he let himself step out of the shadows of his past.

Bearing A Heart | @lockandk3yfiction

Rating: Mature Word Count: 9,421 Main Tags/Warnings: Female Castiel (Supernatural); Castiel in a Female Vessel (Supernatural); Genderbending; Pregnant Castiel (Supernatural); Possessive Castiel (Supernatural); Miscommunication; Running Away; Death Threats; Angst with a Happy Ending; Abundant Mention of Death pertaining to an unborn child Summary: Castiel believes she is becoming more human in the way that she sleeps and eats. It’s a repercussion of falling after all. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s what she gives up to maintain her relationships with the people that she cares about. But what if she shared more than a “last night on Earth” with Dean Winchester? When Castiel learns that she is bearing the heart of another living being, the angel decides to do all in her power to protect her child.

Take Your Human Charge To Work Day (WIP) | @pointyearedelvishprincling

Rating: Mature Word Count: 11,222 Main Tags/Warnings: mutual pining, fluff and smut, case fic, top!castiel/bottom dean winchester, canon typical violence, angst with a happy ending, love confession, castiel dream walking, memory alteration, Summary: Written in third person with alternating POV of Dean & Cas. Something's changed between Dean and Castiel. Dean asks Cas to take him along wherever it is the angel goes when he's not around the Winchesters. He's curious, that's all. No feelings involved. It'll be fun. Dean's ready for Cas to take the wheel on their adventure, but turns out some feelings aren't so easy to repress when it's just the two of you. Cas needs some time alone. It's a heavy burden hearing Dean's longing like a constant prayer while Cas is trying to resist his own feelings. Now he's stuck in LA on a case that could have taken him minutes to solve, and Dean is very distracting. Why is it they can only let their guards down when faced with losing the other?

Scentless | @destielshipper4cas

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 11,416 Main Tags/Warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Getting Together, Alpha Dean, Omega Cas Summary: Cas lost his mate and his scent a year ago when his scent gland was burned in order to brand him as a barren omega. Ever since then, he has been trying to pass as a beta, hiding his mutilated scent gland under the collar of his shirts. This works pretty well for him, until he meets alpha Dean Winchester, who turns his life upside down.

Mated (WIP) | @destielshipper4cas

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 14,721 Main Tags/Warnings: Falling in Love, Strangers to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, Dean in Denial about Sexuality, Alpha Cas, Alpha Dean, Bottom Cas, Top Dean Summary: Of course, if Dean had known that it was possible for an alpha to mate another alpha, he would never have let himself get carried away and bitten the hot alpha’s mating gland in the throes of passion. It wasn’t like he was into alphas, after all… Right? Having accidentally mated the most awesome alpha, he might have to rethink some things about himself as he gets to know his mate and starts falling for him.

Scented | @destielshipper4cas

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 19,298 Main Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Mpreg, Alpha Dean, Omega Cas, Top Dean, Bottom Cas Summary: Cas could not believe that a sweet and sexy alpha like Dean was interested in him—burned and barren omega, social outcast with an abusive ex-mate. To make their new relationship work, they have to figure out how to deal with Cas’ insecurities, society’s prejudices, and a surprise here and there along the way…

Tacoma | @ellis-park

Rating: Mature Word Count: 20,055 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon divergent, season 15 breakup, angst with a happy ending Summary: After an explosive fight, Castiel leaves the bunker and Dean decides to let him go. As Cas ventures halfway across the country on a journey to find himself, Dean reevaluates what he needs from life. And what he needs is Cas.

I Will Hang My Head Low | @andimeantittosting

Rating: Mature Word Count: 22,403 Main Tags/Warnings: Fairytale/Folklore AU, Sick Cas, Temporary MCD, Grief/Mourning, Boy King!Sam Summary: Dean Winchester gave up hunting when his brother became the prophesied Boy King of Hell. Now he ekes out a meager living, chopping wood for a nearby village, until one snowy night, he follows what appears to be a falling star, and encounters an injured angel. Afterwards, he tries to put the strange night from his mind. When he meets Castiel, a mysterious man with healing powers, they form an instant connection, and the more Dean learns of Castiel's powers—to heal, to protect, to purify—the more he begins to hope that Sam can be saved. But as they prepare to save Sam, Castiel grows sick, and then sicker still. Too late, Dean learns how much Castiel is willing to sacrifice for him. Inspired by the Decemberists' Crane Wife and the Japanese myth on which it is based.

The Awakening | Eggplant47 (A03)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 39,144 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe--Human, past child abuse (not explicit), past rape (not explicit), past child sexual abuse (just mentioned), Drug Use, Drunk Driving, Prostitution (past), Infidelity (not between Dean and Cas), Switching Summary: Dean Winchester had always lived on the surface of life, but a bump on the head and his young, blue-eyed brother-in-law are about to push him into the deep.

Lost Together | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 40,551 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Lucifer (Supernatural), bottom Castiel/top Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Witch Castiel (Supernatural), Familiars, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Minor Character Death, Racism, Homophobic Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, True Mates, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Explicit Sexual Content, Claiming Bites, Knotting, Mpreg, Happy Ending, Shapeshifting Summary: Castiel is a powerful Omega witch, but even his magic can’t save him and those around him from his ex, Lucien. When his familiar is brutally killed, Cas vows never to take another familiar because he can’t imagine risking another animal’s life. A wolf roaming his property has other ideas. Meanwhile, his new neighbour, an Alpha named Dean, is worming his way into his heart in a way that Cas can’t resist. Can the two souls overcome danger, broken hearts, and secrets together, or will they remain lost? Through tragedy and misunderstandings, Dean and Cas are destined to be together. But destiny’s road can be deadly.

The Driver | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 40,963 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Stunt Driver Dean Winchester, Getaway Driver Dean Winchester, Convenience Store Clerk Castiel, Waiter Castiel, Kid Fic, Single Father Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Character Death, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Inspired by "Drive" (2011) Summary: Dean Winchester is a mechanic and occasional movie stunt driver living in LA. Most people don't know that Dean also drives getaway cars for armed robberies. For months now, Dean has been nursing a crush on his neighbor, a single father named Castiel. When a violent turf war between Dean's boss and a rival gangster threatens to compromise the safety of Castiel and his son, Dean makes a choice that will change his life forever.

(You Don’t Have To) Say You Love Me | @darknessbound3

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 44,379 Main Tags/Warnings: Heavy Angst, Top!Cas/Bottom!Dean, Separation, Reconciliation, Pining Summary: Six months after Castiel walked out on a twelve year marriage to Dean, he decides it’s time for a divorce. Dean, on the other hand, isn’t so sure, and is willing to stop at nothing to win his husband back.

The (Un)Buried Past | @gii-heylittleangel

Rating: Mature Word Count: 53,282 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Deaths, Gore and Blood, Angst, Intense Violence and use of guns, background relationships, Implied Smut Summary: After six years of living as a civilian, Dean has gotten rusty when it comes to defending himself. But, when the past comes knocking down everything in its way, Dean has to sink back into his old skin to get back what he wants. Ad what he finds out during the journey is not what he wants.

A Driver Worth His Salt | @thefandomsinhalor

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 67,844 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Mafia AU Vibe, BAMF Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean, Trauma Summary: The job is simple: drive the passenger a few times a week to yet-undisclosed locations and return with said passenger without fail. Be on time. Be discreet. And never interact with each other outside of work. Once twenty-year-old Dean meets the passenger in question—the sharply dressed and rough-looking Castiel Novak—he finds that abiding by those shady rules may be more complicated than he had anticipated.

All the Night Tide | @funnywings

Rating: Mature Word Count: 72,315 Main Tags/Warnings: Pirate AU, Golden Age of Piracy, Mythology and Lore, Temporary Major Character Death, Pirate!Castiel, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Kidnapped for ransom by his childhood best friend, Dean is eager to return home and escape the pirate ship that has become his prison. But when Castiel sets his sights on a dangerous new quest, Dean chooses to stay by his side, even if it means facing down Death itself.

help me get where I belong (WIP) | ravenkings (AO3)

Rating: Mature Word Count: 73,437 Main Tags/Warnings: alcoholism, substance abuse, referenced child abuse, referenced assault, extensive crafting Summary: Dean Winchester just needs to get through a quick three-month stint in rehab to appease his little brother, then he'll be back to boozing away the rest of his short, shitty life. Except he kind of likes the group therapy leaders for AA, he's getting way better at watercoloring, and the crazy-haired guy on the NA side of the ward keeps winking at him.

Missing | @kitmistry

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 93,025 Main Tags/Warnings: Slow Burn, Murder Mystery, Post-Breakup, Mutual Pining, Heavy Angst, Minor Character Death, John Winchester's A+ parenting Summary: Two years ago Dean Winchester broke his heart. Now he's at Castiel's doorstep, asking for his help, but there's nothing Dean can say that will convince Castiel to listen. Or so he thinks. Faced with the news of Sam's disappearance, he decides to put his anger aside and follows Dean to a rural town in Nebraska, where they end up tangled in the missing girl investigation Sam was looking into. With an unknown threat closing in on them and all the things left unsaid between them about to be revealed, Castiel and Dean race against time to find Sam before it's too late.

All the Reasons We Are Real | @charlies-secret-closet and @jupiticas

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 96,466 Main Tags/Warnings: Slow burn, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff, Canon Adjacent, Sam Winchester Ships Destiel, Destiel Fluff, Abusive John Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Charlie Ships Destiel, Self Worth Issues, Major Angst, You Will Cry, Summary: Sam is tired of it. Tired of the staring contests and the eye-sex and the 'standing two inches apart' thing. With a little help from Rowena and Heller-Queen-Charlie, Sam becomes the matchmaker: and tries to make his ship canon. Meanwhile, Cas is hiding a painful secret about a certain deal, and Dean is hiding his deepest truth. Until one night, when their long-awaited happiness becomes their greatest sorrow. Written in the original canon universe, this fic uses many canon scenes from the series to show that Destiel doesn't need fanfiction to be real. It has always been there, it will always be there, and it is REAL.

Twenty-Nine Steps | @scones-and-texting-and-murder

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 113,621 Main Tags/Warnings: underage, rape/noncon , PTSD, past child abuse, child sexual abuse, suicidal thoughts, repressed memories Summary: At the age of forty, Dean Winchester has a strong, loving marriage, a successful business, and a young nephew he absolutely dotes upon. He and Cas are living the kind of life Dean never thought was meant for him, one where the future stretches out before them, solid and bright. When a series of small and seemingly unrelated events coalesce into a larger, horrifying realization, he’s rocked to his very core. With so much of what he thought he knew about himself ripped away, he’s trapped between confronting the trauma of his past and believing he’s worthy of the life he’s built.

Still Breathing | @casbelieves

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 124,924 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-con, Drug Use, Self-Harm, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Depression, Mentions of Suicide, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Reunion, Angst, First Love, Unrequited Love, Foster Care, Smut, Switch!Cas, Switch!Dean, Angst With a Happy Ending Summary: Castiel has no reason to trust anyone. As a teenager in the foster care system, he’s experienced horrific and unspeakable acts of violence and abuse that will haunt him for the rest of his life. When he arrives in Pacifica, CA, as the newest addition to the Singer’s foster family, the last thing he expects is to develop a deep and unbreakable bond with the boy-next-door, Dean Winchester. But Dean isn’t as in control of his own life as it seems, and the two struggle to navigate homophobia, trauma, and the pressures of an impending adulthood. When they meet again as young adults, eight years after their falling out, they are given a chance to rekindle a fire that never truly went out.

Patient Love (WIP) | @chaoticdean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 152,765 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Settings, US Navy SEAL Dean Winchester, Journalist Castiel, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, War Injury, PTSD, Grief/Mourning, Friends to Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Angst With a Happy Ending, Switch Dean/Switch Cas Summary: Castiel Novak is 27 when he suddenly loses his twin brother Jimmy, and his whole world turns to ashes. After 10 years as a Navy Special Warfare Operator, a battlefield injury forces 28-year-old Chief Petty Officer Dean Winchester to chose between being stuck behind a desk for the rest of his career or going back to civil life. Things are already complicated and painful enough as it is, but when former lovers Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak meet again after 10 years of radio silence and a galaxy of wounds and scars solidly standing between them, it feels like both a curse and a blessing has been placed on them both. Is there any hope in putting back their broken pieces together after a decade, and how do you deal with grief and broken dreams?

The Offering | @deans-jiggly-pudding

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 167,703 Main Tags/Warnings: Incubus!Castiel, AU - high school, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, rape/non-con elements, heavy angst with a happy ending Summary: As a pastor's son, Dean Winchester is expected to be all the things he's not: the church poster child, compliant with every plan his father has for him, and of course, straight. Fighting the confines of his father's faith and the control it has over his life, Dean is caught in the middle of a teen lock-in activity that will change his life. The boys accidentally summon an incubus named Cas, and his demands are clear. Dean discovers Cas to be everything he expected... Yet, even the darkest of creatures has secrets of his own. Can they be together, despite who they are, and despite everything designed to keep them apart?

A Ghost Story (WIP) | @valleydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 248,988 Main Tags/Warnings: Temporary Character Death, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Gardener Dean Winchester, Rich Castiel (Supernatural), Hunter Dean Winchester, Period-Typical Homophobia, References to Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide, Magic, College | University Student Dean Winchester, Ghost Castiel (Supernatural), Haunted Houses, Established Relationship, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Arranged Marriage, POV Dean Winchester, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Witch Hunters, Animal Death, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Secret Relationship, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Soulmates Summary: Castiel Novak has haunted his family's estate for 150 years, awaiting the return of his lost love. Upon their reunion, Dean Winchester learns of his past reincarnation. After the night of Castiel's resurrection, the two try to find out why they've been given a second chance. The answers may be hidden in the forgotten memories of Dean's former life - but sometimes the truth is better left buried.

Time Won’t Let Me | Aketch-22 (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 253,520 Main Tags/Warnings: Non Explicit Sex, Closeted Castiel, Hurt Comfort, Harry Potter Crossover, Angst and Feels Summary: Entering his 5th year of the Voldemort-controlled Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, muggle-born Dean Winchester is faced with the prospect of the Choosing - a ceremony where twelve students are picked based on blood status to participate in the Mudblood Games. In the Games, the tributes are transported to Purgatory. If you're the first to find your way to the portal out, you become part of Voldemort's world - and if you're not, you die. Will Dean, Sam, Castiel and the others be Chosen, or will they simply have to sit by and watch their friends suffer at the hands of the cruelest supernatural threat the trio have ever faced?

The Exceptional Bad Boy | @thedevil-is-in-the-details

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 329,619 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Castiel / Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester / Top Castiel, Past Rape / Non-con, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Alcohol Abuse / Alcoholism, Drugs, Suicide Attempt, Fluff and Smut, Tattoed Castiel, Depression, Anxiety, Self-harm, Stalking, Minor Character Death Summary: Again, they move to a new town and Dean is so sick of always moving around and always being the new kid at school. And he wants something better for his little brother Sam. But their father can't manage to keep a job for longer than two months. No matter where they are, there is one thing that is always the same though. Dean's reputation as bad boy. It was never a problem that there were already other bad boys because Dean was always the worst. But now, he has keen competition – Castiel Novak. Covered in tattoos, drinking, smoking, doing drugs, breaking other people's noses... Novak's reputation precedes him. But that he's still different than every bad boy Dean's ever met is pretty clear though, from the very first moment they meet.

#destiel trope collection 2021 #day 3 #angst with a happy ending #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #saving blogs; queuing things; the tumblr business

161 notes · View notes

wutheringmights · 3 years

Note

I just read the newest chapter and I loved it! ♥ ♥ ♥ I was wondering if you had some hcs about the engineer that you could share?

Awww I'm glad you like it! I just spent 5 minutes trying to figure out what "HCS" meant before realizing I'm a tired idiot who can't read lol

But yeah! I got some headcanons for the engineer/Spirits I can share!

These headcanons are a mix of things I generally believe for any iteration of the Hero of Spirits and a few things exclusive to CTB. It's pretty obvious which are which.

Technically this is slight spoilers since most of this is not mentioned in-story, but Warriors is a such a self-centered asshole that I'm not sure when I can get him to explicitly ask about Spirit's backstory lol

This got super long and kind of just became me talking about Spirits's entire backstory, so enjoy:

Spirits is sixteen during the course of Spirit Tracks, mostly because that was the vibe I got from him when I first played the game (I made him younger for CTB)

He's not descendant from Wind (who I maintain disappeared instead of settling in New Hyrule); instead, he's Aryll's great grandson

His family name used to be Outset, but when everyone who originally immigrated from Outset island took on that last name, they changed it to Aryll to reflect the family matriarch

So Spirit's full name is Link Aryll, though there is a branch of his family that uses Macaryll instead

The Aryll/Macaryll family is huge; everyone has at least six aunts and uncles on all sides of the family and they can trace back how they are related to Aryll

"I'm Grandma Aryl's third son's second daughter's fifth child." -someone Spirits is related to, probably

He actually never met his great grandmother; she died before he was born.

Spirit's dad was full-blooded Lokomo while his mother was Hylian; his mother passed a few months after he was born after never truly recovering from childbirth while his father died in a fishing accident when he was eight

He went to live with an aunt and uncle who owned a general store; their relationship was polite at best. The aunt and uncle told Spirits upfront that they intended to give the store over to his cousin when he was older so Spirits needed to come up with his own life plan

Spirits didn't necessarily mind since he never wanted to work in a store for the rest of his life, but the ultimatum made it clear that they didn't care for him like a son

To this day, their relationship isn't strained and he doesn't hate them. But whenever they meet, he's overly polite; they're more acquaintances than family

He's cool with his cousin though. They have different interests so they aren't best friends, but they're okay.

Spirits also always had his spirit-sensing abilities. It's really like a sixth sense to him, as normal and automatic as seeing and hearing; he actually didn't realize this wasn't normal until he was a little older

His abilities at this point are limited to sensing vague ideas of a person's spirit (if they're light or dark, etc.), and seeing ghosts (which are really rare. You have to have a lot of power yourself to become one)

(Note: I'm not the only one who headcanons Spirits as having spirit sensing abilities; if you know who can up with the idea, please let me know so that I can tag/credit them!)

The elder of his village told him that select Lokomo had minor spirit sensing abilities, and those who did were traditionally made elders of their villages; being more of a follower than a leader, Spirits adamantly dismissed that idea and refused to be trained on how to hone his spirit senses. He also never learned any of the religion behind it

Which was a little worrisome since his abilities are way stronger than most

Besides, he's always liked trains and it's been his dream to travel around the kingdom as an engineer; being some town's elder would get in the way of that

Anyway, Spirits had to pass a written exam before being accepted as an apprentice engineer, so he's very studious and has a lot of drive (pun unintended?)

He went to live with his Uncle Niko during his apprenticeship in another town; Niko isn't related to him, but he's been a friend of the family for so long that everyone secretly thinks he's actually related to someone and they just forgot who

Niko is his real family, hands down. Those two are as thick as thieves and bring out the wild side in each other

A preteen Spirits used to think Niko was a little lame and kind of embarrassing, but now that he's older, he's all for Niko's weird old man-ness and has even picked up on some of his weird old man-ness himself

That being said, they're both disasters. Neither can clean or cook or do any kind of housekeeping and their shared house is cluttered with Niko's art projects and Spirit's half-finished tinkering

Growing up, Spirits had no idea he was related to the legendary Hero of Wind; Aryll died before he was born, but even in life she was filled with too much grief over her missing brother to discuss it often. Within the family, being related to the Hero of Wind is a rumor at best.

Of course, Niko knows but keeps it a secret from Spirits; once he got back from his LU-adventure, Wind told Niko about the curse of the Hero's Spirit. Then he went missing post-New Hyrule's founding, which really drove the terror of the curse home. Niko thought he could keep Wind's family from falling victim to it by not inadvertently encouraging them to follow in Wind's footsteps

So Niko kept it a secret

And obviously, that didn't work

Spirits' quest to save New Hyrule resulted in him realizing that he needed to embrace his Lokomo heritage and get a handle on his spirit powers; Anjean gave him a little training during his quest but afterwards he traveled around the kingdom to find as many people as he could with abilities like his

They were all really excited to teach him what they knew, especially the religious aspects of the abilities; Spirits is still not the most religious person, but he at least understands and embraces the cultural significance of what he is able to do

This is where he learned how to read a person's Spirit to get an idea of their life experiences and the kind of person they're like; he can also detect where a person is without having to put much effort into it

At Zelda's encouragement, he also got more sword training from the Castle Guard. She offered him a place among them, but he turned it down in favor of remaining an engineer. He still helps around as a swordsman when he can and will act as Zelda's body guard

Speaking of which, he and Zelda are 100% in love. Their relationship started out as puppy love but over the years as matured into a deep connection built on mutual respect

When he's working on designing new engines or parts for his trains, he occasionally brings his drafting materials to the castle gardens so that he can work alongside Zelda; sometimes she falls asleep leaning against his arm and he has to be careful not to shake her awake as he works

Whenever she need to go anywhere in the kingdom, she rides in his train and teasingly criticizes his conducting; he takes a lot of pride in his conducting, but he lets her get away with it since her critiques are objectively hilarious

He keeps a tiny pictograph of her taped to his dashboard

But there's a bit of a problem with their relationship, and it's that he doesn't know if he wants to be the prince consort or not. He does love her, but that would mean giving up being an engineer in favor of being stuck at the castle all of the time

Plus, he's doing great as an engineer; he's saving up to open his own garage that produces his own train designs

Eventually, he leaves for the War of Eras

His experiences with Warriors leaves him more sure than ever that he doesn't want to be the prince consort, resulting in him ending his relationship with Zelda shortly after he returns home

It hurts for a long time to be around her since all of his old feelings keep coming back, so he keeps his distance for a long time; it takes a few years for him to go back to hanging out with Zelda as friends

But now she's approaching marriage age, and he spends a lot of time when he's on body guard duty super jealous of these princes and ambassadors from foreign kingdoms who try to court her

But again, he knows he can't be in a relationship with her so he respectfully and silently pines over her (I'm just a sucker for pining, okay?)

Okay, more random headcanons that are a little less sad

Spirits likes super spicy food, but since he can't cook to save his own life, he just eats whatever he can get his hands on

He's super dirty all of the time, just the epitome of scrappy; there's always a smear of oil somewhere on his person

He actually really hates bathing and only keeps his curly hair in check to comply with train safety regulations

He's really polite and a little shy, but once he loosens up, he gets talkative and personable

He's also very contemplative; he likes conducting so much because he gets to spend long stretches of time alone with nothing but his thoughts

His trauma/stress response is to shut down; he goes quiet, loses energy, and sleeps for longer periods of time

He tends to gravitate towards socializing with people who are older than him, which gets him labeled as being no fun by his peers (despite having someone as cooky as Niko for a uncle)

Post-adventure, his best friend is Linebeck III. They're drinking buddies. Neither can really explain why they even like hanging out as much as they do

(I just like the idea of Linebeck accidentally getting attached to one kid and his whole bloodline getting forever tangled with Wind's; they're bros for multiple lifetimes)

Not only is Spirits good at designing and building new machinery, but he's great at tinkering; he can fix almost anything and will buy broken things on purpose just to have something to fix

No one really knows he's a hero; he doesn't like the attention and, at his request, Zelda did her best to keep his involvement with Malladus a secret

Because not many common people know about his adventure and records of New Hyrule are very rare, he's considered in Warrior's time to be a forgotten hero; some scholars believe that a Hero of Spirits may have once existed, but if he did, no one really knows who he was or what he did to serve the bloodline of Hylia

#god this got long but i hope you like reading them anon!#I just have a lot of thoughts about spirits #so many thoughts #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu #lu headcanon #lu spirits #loz st #legend of zelda #spirit tracks link #zelink #ask #anonymous #me rambling #lu ctb #loz

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sweeethinny · 3 years

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Come and sit a while with me

It's been a year since I started all of this, that I wrote a fanfic to celebrate Ginny's birthday, and here I am, posting once again, keeping the tradition <3

This story will deal with grief, suicidal thoughts, but it has a happy ending, I swear

Happy birthday, Ginny.

AO3 | FF. NET | SIYE

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It was a normal afternoon at the Potters' house, Ginny wasn't working today and the kids were on vacation, James had gone out with friends, Lily was at the pool with her friends, and she and Albus were enjoying their free time before they had to get ready to go out to dinner and celebrate Ginny's birthday, so they lay on the sofa in the living room, both of them with moisturizing masks on their faces and hair, and the TV on.

The perfect day for her, if she was sincere.

"Mom," Albus muttered, looking at her curiously. "When did you know you loved dad?"

''I always loved your dad.''

''No… when did you know you really love him?'' Albus looked at her, his hair in a bun and his green eyes staring at her in the same way he had since he was born, as if he wanted to know the whole truth, and not half lies. "I mean, when did you look at him and realize he wasn't just another one?"

''Let me see…'' Ginny changed the channel when the movie ended, trying not to smile at the memory. ''I guess I never thought he was just another one, but there was a specific day when I was sure he was the one I wanted to marry…''

August 11, 1998

Ginny loved birthdays, it was simply her favorite date, along with Christmas.

How could anyone not be happy on the day that was entirely and unique to them? Everything revolved around her: the cake, the celebration, the attention, everything. It was her day, the day that Ginny didn't share with anyone, and even though she sometimes felt a bit of a bitch about it, she was glad none of her brothers were born on the same day as her..

She didn't want to have to share this too.

But today wasn't that happy day. Today wasn't sunny and as much as Molly had become more involved in her garden, Ginny's favorite flowers hadn't bloomed in time, as if they knew she was in mourning.

It was the first time that someone would be missing at the party.

Even Charlie called her over the Floo so everyone could sing together and celebrate, but today, it would be eight Weasleys for the first time, not nine. And Ginny didn't know how to deal with that, with that pain that seemed to consume her in every way, and that made her close the bedroom curtains and hide under the covers because she was exhausted.

Exhausted from fighting. Of having to be strong. Not being able to afford the privilege of just crying and admitting it hurt. It hurt a lot. At times it seemed almost impossible to bear. Ginny wanted for the first time in a long while, someone to take over things for her, letting her sleep and cry freely, without judgment, without trying to fix what was broken.

She didn't want a solution.

But she couldn't do that, Molly was doing her best to make this date happy, so that Ginny would realize that there was reason to celebrate, that Fred wouldn't want her to spend all day in her room. She also thought this was unfair, because Fred didn't have to bury one of them, Fred didn't have to go through grief, he never faced that pain, so what would he know?

Ginny knew. She knew what it was like to want to die every day since he died, she was the one who felt this agonizing loneliness that seemed to get bigger every day, she was the one who lay in bed at night and thought she could go crazy at any time because it hurt so much and it was so exhausting.

"May I come in?" A knock on her door made her jump as she tried to hide her dark circles with some of the makeup she had on, and his voice made her curse herself for still being in her pajamas.

''Yes.'' She tried to hide her nervousness because things were still a little awkward between her and Harry, even though she had kissed him a few days after the war ended, on the sofa in the living room in the middle of the night, when her room looked very cold and lonely, and Harry looked so cute wearing plaid pajamas and with his hair cut.

He clearly blamed himself for Fred's death, and Ginny still hadn't gotten over all the latest events: the Carrows' tortures, the war, the deaths, Fred…

Ginny had certain doubts, even though she didn't like to think about it, that they would last.

Maybe they were that couple that everyone looks at and says 'what if life had been different with these two?', figuring they could be something more if there hadn't been so much destruction in their midst.

"Happy birthday." Harry still looked tired, he hadn't regained his weight, but he was already showing signs of improvement, which was good. Ginny was happy to see him look good.

He was wearing the outfit she helped him buy for his birthday when they, Ron and Mione went for a walk in Muggle London. A light blue T-shirt, dark jeans, and black sneakers. A simple outfit, no big deal, but one that seemed to make him look even more handsome, if that was even possible.

The woman who would marry him would be very lucky, Ginny thought.

''Brought it for you.'' She hadn't even noticed that he had his hands behind his back, looking nervous as he showed her a bouquet of honeysuckle, tied with a red satin bow, and a cream-colored card pinned there with his name signed. "I know they're your favorites, and I thought you'd like it." He smiled awkwardly. "I noticed yours didn't bloom this year, and I thought you might want to continue the tradition."

"You didn't have to worry about that." Ginny had to swallow hard to keep from crying in front of him, even though there wasn't a reason to.

"Of course I did, it's your birthday, I want to see you happy." Harry shrugged, his cheeks flushing as if he'd been out in the sun for hours on end. He was so cute, Ginny wished she didn't like him so much, because that way, when their imminent separation came, it wouldn't hurt so much. ''How is your day? I don't want to spoil the surprise, but I think your mom made your favorite cake.''

"It's okay, as far as possible," she shrugged. "Mom is trying to keep me away from the kitchen and all the preparation, so I decided to stay in the bedroom."

''Are you going to be here until party time?'' She thought Harry would start the same speech Hermione gave her when she said she was going to do it, which was the same as Bill and his father: Fred wouldn't like it. Besides, you need to celebrate that you're alive, enjoy life…

Ginny was ready to fight with him, just as she had with the three of them.

"Is there a problem?" Ginny crossed her arms, careful not to crush the flowers.

Harry was bigger than her, but that wouldn't stop her from kicking him out if necessary.

''No. Want company?" Harry looked sincere though. "We can assemble that puzzle you bought, remember?"

''Do you want to stay here? Assembling a puzzle?' Ginny followed Harry as he walked around her room as if the surroundings had been familiar to him for years already, looking for the box on her shelves, which was a total mess of old books, photos and other stuff.

"Of course, it's your day, we'll do whatever you want, ma'am."

August 11, 2021

''How did you know you loved him? Because he wants to assemble a puzzle with you?" Albus asked, no longer paying attention to the TV.

''No and yes. See, unlike everyone else that day, your dad respected my grief. He didn't try to make me go outside, see the bright side of things, nothing. He just stayed there with me, accepting that on that day, I wanted to stay inside my room, putting together a puzzle… He paid attention to the flowers I liked, in the cake." Ginny smiled. "That dawn, after everyone else went to sleep, I finally managed to cry, and son, it's a pain I can't put into words." She swallowed, not wanting to get emotional. ''Over time it gets a little easier, but that year, it was a pain that seemed to tear my chest apart. And do you know what your dad did? He sat with me, hugged me, and listened to me cry for an hour, not saying anything, just standing there by my side.''

The memory was no longer as painful as it had been, and Ginny allowed herself to smile as the image of Harry lying beside her on the bed, his arms around her waist, came back to her mind.

"He never tried to save me, he just stayed there with me, helping me when I needed it, and that was the most important thing."

"He saved you in the chamber," Albus remembered, a mischievous smile on his lips that reminded her of Fred when he was younger. Ginny didn't even know it was possible, but it was always the image that came to her mind when she saw Albus smile like that.

"It was a different situation." She shrugged.

"Did you doubt you would marry him after that day?"

"Never again." And it was true. ''Since that morning, when I woke up and he was still sleeping with me after I cried and sobbed things I don't even remember anymore, I knew he was the one I would marry.'' Ginny touched the ring that was already on her finger for over twenty years now, still smiling like a fool as she remembers the marriage proposal and the marriage itself.

"And why weren't you sure you'd be with him before that?"

''It's not that I wasn't sure, it's just that when you go through something really bad, everything around you seems to fall apart together, it's like nothing else has a solution and you are bound to fail whatever you try. It's a horrible feeling, I hope you never feel that.'' Ginny shifted on the couch to give him a closer look. ''Why this now?''

"Just curiosity." Albus smiled, his cheeks a little flushed. "Happy birthday again, Mom, I love you so much." He kissed her forehead, as she usually did.

''I love you too, my love.''

#hinny #harry x ginny #ginny weasley #harry potter next generation #next gen harry potter #albus severus potter #albus is a cute boy <3 #my fic #happy birthday ginny #harry and ginny

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tilions · 3 years

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The tale goes ever on and on

I have been thinking about this all morning and I don't think that I have the right words to express what I actually want to say but I still will give it a try regardless. @absynthe--minded's post about how the problems of the Third Age seem so small compared to what went down in the First Age got me thinking a lot about a certain passage from the Two Towers that I feel gets better every time I read it.

In Chapter Nine of Book Four Sam talks about how the people in the old tales never chose to be part of them, that it seems like they have been placed into them with their paths laid out beforehand and that they probably had lots of chances to turn back and return home but never did. He also talks about how they only hear about those who went on to a good or bad end. Then he comes to talk about Bilbo and how his tale is not the most exciting to tell but the best one to land in because it has a good ending. That in itself is such a beautiful section because it goes in so well with what all this is about. They had the chance to turn back but didn't. Frodo and Sam went on, just like the heroes of old did, regardless whether the end of their tale is a good or bad one because they had to.

And then comes this section of dialogue which is just… I don't have words. It's wonderful, it really is but I think it gets overlooked by what they talk about after this but I think it's still very noteworthy:

'[...] I wonder what sort of tale we've fallen into?'

'I wonder,' said Frodo. 'But I don't know. And that's the way of a real tale. Take any one that you're fond of. You may know or guess what kind of tale it is [...] but the people in it don't know. And you don't want them to.'

'No, sir, of course not. Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron Crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours. But that's a long tale, of course, and goes on past the happiness and into grief and beyond it - and the Silmaril went on and came to Eärendil. And why, sir, I never thought of that before! We've got - you've got some of the light of it in that star-glas the Lady gave you! Why, to think of it, we're in the same tale still! It's going on. Don't the great tales never end?'

- JRR TOLKIEN, The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, Book IV, Chapter VIII: The Stairs of Cirith Ungol

The tales of Beren and Lúthien and of Eärendil are only referenced in a few songs about them and the various references throughout the Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers and for those who read the Lord of the Rings for the first time and presumably don't know anything about the Silmarillion this gives the world so much depth, SO MUCH.

The first time I read this I didn't even really need to know what happened in the tale of Beren in all detail, I knew it was epic just because of the way Sam makes it sound, it must have had a good end because Eärendil gets the Silmaril.

But more important is the realisation Sam has because of the Light of Eärendil which Galadriel gave Frodo: They're still in Berens tale, they're still in Eärendils tale. This is still the same tale. They just continue the story that has been going on for thousands of years, they carry a legacy of the heroes of old and even though their journey is not nearly as dangerous and dark as Berens was, it is still the same tale.

Frodo brings this to a wonderful conclusion which I will let speak for itself because I don't think it needs any form of explanation:

'No they never end as tales,' said Frodo. 'But the people in them come, and go when their part's ended. Our part will end later - or sooner."

- JRR TOLKIEN, The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, Book IV, Chapter VIII: The Stairs of Cirith Ungol

Edit: I mixed up chapter names it was the Stairs of Cirith Ungol not the Path of Cirith Ungol. I fixed it now.

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jarlkacobshonk · 3 years

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It’s Over, Karl [ Part 2 ]

ANONYMOUS REQUEST: it’s over, karl sequellll, your writing is so good and i’m excited to read more from you in the future :]

PRONOUNS: they/them

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

WARNINGS: sad, angst, symptoms of panic attacks ! crying, regret, grief, potentially very triggering for some people!

NOTES: anon requested a sequel to: it’s over, karl ! that’s the link to part 1 so you can read that first! i think it would be okay to not read it, it’s basically just background :) but i’m really thankful people enjoyed the first one ! it means a lot to me ! plus i had fun continuing this

𝓛ove sucked. Especially when it was over.

It’s been two months since Karl lost the love of his life over something he did. Something he initiated. Something he couldn’t take back.

He has seen them once in those two months; yesterday. And it broke his heart all over again to see them with their life completely stable. They looked so… so okay. And Karl was still breaking, nowhere even close to healing.

But did he even deserve to be healed? After all he’s done?

He’d bumped into them on the street as he rounded a corner a little too sharply — a habit Y/N themselves had chided him on. He’d looked up to apologise and realised it was them.

His once-lover. His history. The love of his life who no longer deemed him that title to them. The soulmate he lost.

He’d broken their heart once, and they were afraid he’d do it again. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Right?

Y/N was even more beautiful than he recalled the previous two months (though, that could be because he’d only seen them angry for that period of time. It had been too long since he’s seen their smile) but right now, the beautiful was slightly dimmed by the lack of light in their eyes that was usually there when they looked at Karl. It pricked at his heart to know that he was the reason that joyous beacon of light was dimmed, perhaps even completely gone from inside of Y/N.

At that moment, Karl realised that Y/N had moved on. Their heart was stronger than his own, they didn’t care about him anymore.

Karl lost them. It hurt him more than he could ever imagine — and he never imagined a scenario that would end in such a way as it had. He’d fought the urge to fall to their knees when he bumped into them, fought the urge to let out all of his tears and sorries and beg for forgiveness, beg for them to take him back.

He didn’t, and when they walked away, Karl realised that he’d let them go twice.

“It hurts,” he tells his friends over the phone. It hurts so bad that sometimes, especially at night, he finds it hard to breathe. He’s struggling for breath as if someone is clawing at his throat from inside of him, sharp nails clawing at the base of his throat up to the opening of his mouth, where only choked sobs could escape.

“Of course it does,” his friends say wisely to him. But they don’t understand, not really. “That’s how you know it was love.”

That made Karl’s heart hurt more. He knew that, he knew it was love. But he also knew that he ruined it.

“The fact that you’re feeling this way is just proof that there was something to lose. Love hurts, Karl. That’s how it goes.”

That’s the thing, isn’t it? He knows it was love, he’s always known, but he didn’t care that it was love — he wanted it to stop aching inside him and weighing him down. He wanted Y/N back, he wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted the abilities of his DreamSMP character — he wanted to turn back time, fix it before he broke it, love them as he should’ve. Stop himself from caving into temptation.

Stop himself — and Y/N — from the heartbreak.

“When does it stop?” He’d choked out, an image — a memory — of himself in his head: on the bathroom floor, bawling his eyes out like he was the fountain of his own sorrow, his own grief.

Grief, he had learned, could go beyond that of grieving a person. He grieved Y/N’s touch, their scent, their sound. Grief, Karl had learned, was really just love that no longer had a place to be given. And that love, with nowhere to go, escaped in the form of cascading tears in the clandestine area of his bedroom when he thought too much about what he’d lost.

It came forth in the form of lumps in his throat, the hollowness he felt in his chest when he was finally, finally, done crying for the night.

His friends didn’t want to be honest with them, but they didn’t want to lie to him either. “Love… love hurts, Karl. And you don’t stop loving someone, not really.”

Karl skips their song when it comes on, but can’t bring himself to remove it from their joint playlist that he listens to every day. He never washes the hoodie Y/N used to steal from him but never trashes it because the faint smell of them mixed with his cologne and served as the only reminder of what Y/N smelled like. He can’t watch their favourite movie without crying whilst thinking about them, but now it’s the only movie he can watch.

He can watch their mutual friends’ streaks and listens to every appearance Y/N makes; it’s the only way he can hear their voice. It’s the only way he can feel the slightest trace of happiness.

But it’s always accompanied by regret. And tears, lots of tears.

On the other side of his computer, Y/N pretends to be happy. They attend the streams of their friends, they laugh, they hold their composure if they bump into or are asked about Karl. They tell the internet that it was a mutual breakup; they don’t out Karl for cheating.

Because they still love him. But he chose someone else. He chose a stranger over them. He chose to be distant. It was his choice. The moment Karl gave up on Y/N, they knew. They knew that it was over for the two of them. Karl had broken their heart, and they could both cry over it and get over it but Y/N couldn’t forgive him. Not really.

Love sucks. Especially when it’s over.

Especially when Y/N couldn’t get him out of their head. They knew they shouldn’t still care about him, but they did. And they don’t know how to change that. They don’t know how to stop the butterflies that erupted in the pit of their stomach when they heard his voice and didn't know how to stop looking him up to see if he’d posted.

He hasn’t.

And while they felt stupidly satisfied to see he was suffering with them, they still shook their head every time they refreshed his Twitch account. He did this to himself; it should be easier for him to forget about it since he’s the one who threw Y/N away.

They shake their head as a wave of sadness washed over them.

No, they did not regret loving Karl — they could never regret it. But they regretted letting him have their full, whole heart without thinking of the repercussions. They regretted showing Karl every part of them — the pieces of themselves that they loved and the pieces that they hated — and let him love those parts, let him kiss their insecurities away.

They hated that he’d touched them with those impure, unfaithful lips. Hated the parts of them he’d once caressed lovingly, hated that he once made them feel loved.

Hated — yet, still loved — Karl.

#karl jacobs x reader angst #karl jacobs x you #angst #karl jacobs angst #mcyt #mcyt angst

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astro-rain · 3 years

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delicate; b.barnes

chapter fifteen - “but she couldn’t”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: bucky and y/n have their first therapy session after what happened a few days prior... things happen.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

He wrung his hands outside the door, nervous for what was to come. Bucky came alone now, no royal Wakandan guard to escort him. He had graduated past that precaution, with the help of Y/N's insistence. She was always advocating for him.

Ahead of him was the first therapy session after that night with the bonfire and then the leaning and then the pinky promise and—

He was anxious... to see her. To say the least. He wanted this to work, wanted his idea, their agreement to work. He wanted this to work because he didn't know what he was more afraid of: seeing her again or never seeing her again.

Frankly, he didn't care what their "professional boundaries" were. He just liked to be around her. Personal. Professional. It didn't really matter to him. He didn't care whether they sat across from each other on the therapy couches or if they were closer. Sitting on the floor... leaning...

Again, he didn't care. It was Y/N's worries that worried him.

Just go, idiot.

He knocked.

"Come in!"

Bucky was careful when he opened the door, almost as if he was trying not to frighten a timid animal. Her face was carrying a lot. Behind her eyes was an abundance of thoughts, worries, feelings, and more. He wasn't sure how he knew... he just did. He knew her.

He silently made his way to his couch, his side of the room. He felt so separate.

"Good morning," her voice was flat and controlled. Her tone was friendly and light, but still controlled; he could tell.

"Mornin,'" was all he said. He was apprehensive to interrupt what was so far in tact.

"Can I just start by apologizing for how I spoke to you the other day. About your arm and everything else. I was out of line. I'm really sorry."

"It's alright," he breathed, looking up at her. Yep, a lot of thoughts in there. "You weren't exactly wrong..."

"Doesn't mean it wasn't rude."

"I've already forgiven you... like two seconds after it happened. Don't worry about it."

Her eyebrows creased, face contorting into clear concern. "If it upset you, you can tell me. I don't want to let anything fester... please."

"I guess I have issues with the arm, but... not with you."

"Do you want to talk about that?"

Bucky exhaled. "What else are we here for, right?"

She gave him an encouraging look, as if to say go on. He got the hint.

"I just feel sort of incomplete. Having one arm is... strange. And I guess I never had to deal with it before, because Hydra gave me the cybernetic arm... Well more like attached it to me. It's not like I had a say."

"You lost your arm back on that train in the forties, and you never really got a chance to cope with that loss. It's a huge change for your body and mind to get used to, and it's completely understandable that you're having trouble with it."

"My body feels so off now. Everything I do I have to do differently, and it just makes it all so difficult."

"Are there things we need to fix for accessibility? I can talk to Shuri and-"

"No, it's fine," he was quick to deny any assistance. "I don't wanna complain."

"It's not complaining, Buck. If you need help, it's okay-"

"I don't want help. Everyone's always helpin' me. I don't need to ask for more."

"Bucky..."

"It's fine, I just... need to suck it up and deal."

"There's no reason to 'suck it up' when it's a problem that can be fixed," she offered.

His voice sunk to a whisper, guilt withering his confidence. "I'm sick of being everyone's problem."

Did he just say that? He wasn't sure he meant to. His feelings sort of leak out when he talks to her. Like it's easy. Like it's safe.

- - -

READER

She could feel her heart nearly rupture at his words and the broken cadence in his voice. She wanted to leap out of her seat, pull him close, and hold him until all the pieces stuck back into place. But she couldn't.

Oh, Bucky, she sighed sorrowfully in her head. She wanted to cup his face and tell him how he most definitely was not a problem. How he was wonderful and patient and trusting and kind and a thousand other things she never was. But she couldn't. It hurt to not be able to comfort him the way she felt she needed to do.

Instead, she took a deep breath, and said what she was supposed to say.

"That's a really hard thing to have on your mind, Bucky. I'm sorry. But I can promise you that we really are here to help you. And we want to. I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't feel, but please know that me or Shuri or anyone else - we don't think you're a problem."

He looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact and mumbling, "Thank you."

He didn't seem convinced. Her chest tightened. She wanted to do more. But she couldn't.

"I flew all the way from Europe to come help you. And I mean, I didn't know you then, but looking back now, I'm damn well glad I did."

"Yeah, but now you're away from home on another continent because of me."

"Bucky, I chose to come here. No one made me."

He put a hand on his forehead, fingers rubbing at his temples in tired frustration. Like he had been bullied by these thoughts for a while now. There had clearly been a lot going on with him that he hadn't told her. A part of her wanted to admonish him. She wanted to scold him for not letting her help. For not letting her erase any and all bad feelings.

"I can't-..." he sighed, voice helpless. "I can't even cut my own hair..."

She closed her eyes, feeling the pain radiating off of him.

"... can't even make myself feel human."

Y/N moved before she could think the better of it. She was in front of him before she even registered the movement. It was automatic, involuntary. Her body just had to get to him. Make it better. Make the hurt go away. Like a reflex. She felt chemicals with him; he was an instinct.

She knelt in front of his feet, looking up at his sitting figure still on the couch.

"Give me your hand."

He stared down at her, confused. "What?"

"Reach your arm out."

Reluctantly he obeyed.

Slowly, softly, delicately, she smoothed her hand over his and up his forearm. Starting at his fingers, moving over the center of his palm, and gliding up his wrist to then pivot her hand so that her fingers were on the underside of his forearm and her thumb settled a tender touch on his pulse point. (the gif!)

She tried to transfer every ounce of compassion into her touch in an attempt to fade his distress, his guilt, his pain. A physical way of expressing that, yes, someone did care about him. So, so deeply. Even if he didn't see it.

She exerted a slight amount of force on her thumb so that he could feel the pressure of his pulse.

"You feel that?"

He nodded.

"That's your heart beating. How profoundly human."

Then she splayed her hand over the top of his forearm.

"You feel the coolness in my hand?"

Again, he nodded.

"That's your body heat. How beautifully human."

Still with a hand on his skin, she moved up to sit next to him. She brought his hand up to his chest, pressing it flat up against the center of his rib cage and holding her hand on top.

"Can you feel that?"

"Mhm."

"That's your heart. That's you. You're all heart, Buck. You're so deeply, wonderfully human. All the way to your bones."

She looked into his eyes then, and he bore into her in a way she's only seen one or two times before. Their hands remained against each other, over his heart, when he spoke.

"I don't deserve this... deserve you..."

There was no hesitation. "You deserve everything good and then some."

She rubbed her thumb softly on the back on his hand, hoping to communicate the sentiment as lovingly as she could. She wanted him to know that he mattered.

"Even though I took you away from your home and your work and everything else... all for my stupid screwed up head."

"I don't... really have a home to go back to," she confessed. "Like, yes, I had a place to live, but.. not a home."

He almost chuckled. "Neither do I."

Maybe sometimes home was a person.

"You have people, though. Which is good. You know, Steve, Sam."

"You." His voice was soft.

It made her lungs almost contract. She could've sworn her cells began to heat up. God, she felt so much. Such strong ardency. You have me, she thought. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me. She wanted to say that. But she couldn't.

"Right. And I have you," she offered, trying to reciprocate the sentiment without pouring out the adoration that was in her head.

He stared at her, dead in the face like he was looking into her soul. With his entire chest he whispered like it was the only truth he'd ever known. "You have me."

His eyes were blue and his face was kind and then the back of her head felt warm like someone's hand was on it. His voice was soft and his heart was beating and then every nerve in her body ignited into flames because his lips were on hers. His lips were on hers and any semblance of control she might've had left burned up as she burned for him.

Slow and heavy, she melted into him. Parts of her found parts of him. Fingers softly curled at the nape of his neck, palm pressed up against his chest and feeling his heartbeat. On Bucky's chest, her hand was where his previously was. But now, his hand was cupping the back of her head and it was dizzying.

He tasted like rumination and benevolence and thank you. She moved her lips as if to pull out every inch of sorrow and grief and heartache and say I'm sorry. Sorry for all the things that happened to him that weren't good and gentle. For every hand that had hurt him; for all the hands that had touched him that weren't hers. But she couldn't. Oh god, she couldn't. What was she doing?

She pulled her head away even though it felt like a gravitational pull as strong as the sun's was keeping her there. In response to her movements, Bucky leaned back too. He removed his hand and suddenly she felt cold. No, she felt frozen. How could this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen.

"I-I," she stammered, having no idea what to say. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

She looked away from him, eyes anywhere but his. She stared to the side of the room.

"No, I-... I can't- we can't... this is-"

"I kissed you."

She avoided whatever that was the same way she avoided his gaze.

"This is transference," she declared, not even dignifying what he said.

"Huh?"

"Transference, it's- it's when a patient's feelings from something or someone else get redirected and projected towards their therapist. That's... that's what's happening here."

"It is?"

He didn't seem very convinced.

"Yes. It happens sometimes, it's not anyone's- ... it's okay."

"This is okay?"

"No!" she caught her breath. "No. The... action is not okay, but the fact that it happened isn't something to be faulted. It's not unheard of; it's a common phenomenon in therapy, so..."

She could feel him looking at her. She wished he'd stop. She felt like she might faint. Her lips were numb.

"So..."

"So, it just can't happen again. Okay? No one's in trouble. Let's just... be aware of the possible consequences of transference and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Y/N..."

She thought there might've been a slight inflection of fear in his voice.

"Yes?"

"Look at me... please."

She sighed and turned her head. Fuck. She wished she'd drown.

"Does this mean you're leaving?... or not leaving for that matter?"

His eyes were pleading, vulnerable, and scared. If she was honest, she wasn't sure she could leave him if she tried. In fact, a tiny repressed part of her mind wanted to stay with him forever. But she couldn't.

She reminded herself why she was here, and why they needed boundaries. But when reasoning with her inner logician, she wasn't sure leaving would even be the best option. It's not like Bucky needed more disruption in his life. He needed some sort of constant, something reliable and trustworthy. At least that's what Y/N told herself as she realized that if she left him with that look in his eye, she could never forgive herself.

"No, I don't... I don't have to leave. As long as we make sure that doesn't happen again."

Relief visibly flooded his face. "Okay... okay, good."

Seeing his worry wane was alleviating. Though, she wished she could do more. She wished his hand was still on the back of her head, and her hand was still on his chest. She wished she could rewind back to that moment and just sit within it for a bit longer.

But she couldn't.

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