#I remember marveling at how I felt no pain and that kept me calm during it

[pumakaji64]

I had this weird dream last night about being a part of a creepy pasta dating sim, it was brutally difficult like 1 wrong choice would cause your date to flip out and the game would change into a survival horror. My date and I were trying to get to the hospital and I somehow managed to make all the right choices, unfortunately I had only beaten the first part of the game. There was a time skip and I found out all the fates of my potential dates, some were fine but others had died including the one I chose so I had to pick a new guy. Turns out I picked the worst one because his first dialogue choice was total BS and had like 20 options to pick from, I guessed wrong of course and he starts to get mad as the screen took on a rid tint. I panicked and restarted the game but the title screen was red now with no music. I felt really unnerved before finally waking up.

#the first part was hospital themed because in my dream I was bleeding profusely from my face after I scratched myself too hard or something #while simultaneously vomiting water #I remember marveling at how I felt no pain and that kept me calm during it #even though it legit felt like I could not breathe with how much water there was #my first date was like some weird red bird dude who looked like an animal crossing character #the second one was some generic brown haired dude #smh I would wake up before my creepy pasta nightmare gets interesting #the whole game had a chibi sort of creepy vibe to it #like cursed ps1 demos kind of feel with the graphics

[retvenkos]

within these lines | t.l.

Little Women - Theodore “Laurie” Laurence x Reader, fluff requested by @mywinterbucky​ - sorry for the wait!

tw: none

word count: 1.6k

prompt: “you still have that?”

A/N: sorry timothee chalamet fans, but the gif is of christian bale’s laurie because sometimes you gotta switch it up, y’know? after all, variety is the spice of life.

Summary: The world had come in between Laurie and (Y/n) five years ago, but neither time nor distance could keep them apart for long.

There’s something elusively romantic about the teenage years. Despite any tragedy that reaches the hearts of the young, there is something infinite in youth that takes such melancholy and spins it into something beautiful beyond recognition.

It was in their teenage years that (Y/n) was torn from Laurie’s embrace - two friends on the cusp of being something more. A “perhaps” that ended in ellipses, each dot like the thousands of miles that separated them. All through their childhood, they had been together, and up until the moment (Y/n) was whisked away to England, they had constantly been at each other’s side. To have known someone so fully and to lose them so completely was a tragedy that often left the soul barren. But they were teenagers at the time, standing at the precipice of adulthood, and their minds preserved a beauty that existed in their youth - something unique and not likely to happen again; gold-spun.

When (Y/n) was plucked out of Laurie’s pocket and ripped from his heart, there wasn’t much else to do than wander. Laurie passed the days on his own and when he wasn’t lost amongst the memories of his youth, he was writing letters to (Y/n) when he ought to have been studying and fashioning poetry when he should have been sleeping. There is something elusively romantic about writing to someone you don’t have the address for - something that lies in the yearning of one’s being and the void that is left behind.

As the years wore on, Laurie grew out of those rose-colored teenage years, but his heart still beat to the rhythm of a sonnet. Across the ocean, (Y/n) was much the same. Although less of a poet, (Y/n) was a dreamer, and when they closed their eyes, they were there in the gardens of their youth, with a boy they had once thought of loving at their side.

It was a muddy, April day when Laurie felt a particular kind of ache settle in his heart. (Y/n) had told him, once, when they were hiding in the study of his grandfather’s house rather than practicing the piano, that muddy, grey mornings were their favorite. He had laughed at them back then, even after (Y/n) insisted that grey mornings had a comforting sort of calm about them - something that made sense to Laurie, despite it all. (Y/n) had insisted on the beauty of drab mornings, and when he told them that loving dull skies was like loving the taste of over-boiled tea, (Y/n) told him that they loved that, too. “After all,” they had said, “that’s how you make it when your grandfather is away, and there’s no one here but us.”

“But it’s not any good.”

“To me it is.” At their statement, Laurie made a face, and (Y/n) laughed like a spring breeze. “As is anything that is made with love.”

Laurie’s cheeks bloomed with a soft red at the mention of something so sacred as love, and he hid his flustered feelings by fiddling with the papers on the study desk. On a few pages, Laurie saw his own messy scrawl, and on a couple of others, he saw (Y/n)’s curled handwriting.

“Why don’t you make a list, then?” Laurie searched for a blank piece of parchment and set one down in front of (Y/n), giving them a quill and inkpot. “Make a list of everything you can think of that’s made with love.”

“Why?” And the curiosity in (Y/n)’s voice was gentle.

“So that I may make a list of my own, and we can learn to love the list of the other.”

(Y/n) smiled.

That had been many years ago, but Laurie could still remember the soft, subdued smile that (Y/n) had given him that day - an expression of contented awe. He had associated that look with muddy, April days a long time ago, and there was something particularly melancholic about a memory so beautiful and so full of love.

And a long time after, Laurie was still in the study, now in his early twenties. Sitting in a newly upholstered seat, he pulled out of a small tin box a stack of old papers filled with curled handwriting. At the bottom of the stack lay the list from so long ago, well-loved and well revised, with additions like “poorly done sketches from the neighbor children,” and “broken seashells from the beach,” written in minuscule letters.

Laurie was reading number twenty-six (“the singing of birds on Sunday mornings”) when a voice spoke from the stillness.

“You still have that?”

Transcending time and distance, Laurie would have known that voice anywhere.

“(Y/n)?”

Laurie's old friend, leaning against the door of the study, giggled from delight, and not a moment later, Laurie had them wrapped in a hug, his years of loneliness only tightening his grip - warm, enveloping, and ferocious, like he would do anything to never lose them again.

“Laurie, you’re going to crush me!”

“Wasn’t that on your list, though?” Laurie pulled away, holding (Y/n) at arm's length, looking into eyes he hadn’t seen in years - bright and strong; beautiful beyond belief. “Number thirty-one: ‘hugs you think will crack your spine.’”

(Y/n) hummed fondly. “And if I remember correctly, your number thirty-one was hiding in the closet during parties, whispering stories by candlelight.”

“You remember?”

“Of course, I do,” (Y/n) said earnestly, their brow creasing slightly, as though they were surprised at his question. “I have it right… here.” (Y/n) reached into the inside pocket of their coat, pulling out an old and fading envelope. They gingerly pulled out a piece of old parchment, reading the first sentence on the page. "Number one: 'the too-small gloves that you made me.' You really should have written my name - had anyone else  found the list, they would have been terribly confused."

“You still have it.”

(Y/n) smiled, and the expression was there - that contented sort of awe that never failed to make Laurie feel seen and, perhaps most of all, loved. For a moment, the two just stood there, within arm's length, holding onto each other and marveling at all the other had become. There was something elusively romantic about the moment; something heavenly that had been captured in every poem Laurie had ever written and every dream (Y/n) had ever fathomed.

“I missed you, Laurie.” And those four whispered words held a fragile sort of intimacy that could be shattered with a voice much louder than a sigh.

“And I missed you more than you could ever know.”

(Y/n)’s breath hitched.

Laurie stepped away suddenly as though a spell broke. He turned his back to (Y/n), his cheeks already starting to flare, and scanning the study for another chair - something for (Y/n) to sit in, close to him, at last.

“Ah, here.” Laurie pulled a chair closer to the study desk. “You can sit there and tell me all about your adventures in England. Would you like any tea?”

He turned to face (Y/n) once again, and they had a mischievous smile on their face. “Over-boiled, I’m guessing?”

Laurie chuckled, looking downward to hide the embarrassment that crept up onto his cheeks. “I think you’ll find I’m much improved. I’ve had five years of practice since you were last here.”

“Five years,” (Y/n) mused, walking over to their seat and sitting gently. “It’s funny, it feels like it’s been an eternity since I’ve been in Massachusetts, but it’s only been five years.”

“Five years is a long time,” Laurie supplied. “A lot can change.”

“But a lot can stay the same. Or, at least I hope.”

The two friends looked at each other. For a moment, it felt like the world slowed around them, and they were nothing more than the teenagers they had been five years prior when they were writing silly lists of things that were made with love.

“Well,” (Y/n) started, “I suppose I have stories I could tell, but I want to know about you."

"Well, I want to know about you!"

(Y/n) scoffed and shook their head, an expression that was beautiful, akin to the breaking of a new day.

"Well, this town has been like it's always been." Laurie relented, relaxing in his chair. “The March sisters have been less willing to spend time with me lately, since my mood has gone sour. but you’ll be glad to know that I have plans for getting back in their good graces, soon.”

(Y/n) leaned forward, putting their elbows on the desk and steepling their fingers, as though whatever they were talking about was of great importance. On instinct, Laurie leaned in as well, two conspirators in an empty house. "Well, now we're getting somewhere, Mr. Laurence."

Laurie stifled a chuckle, (Y/n) clearly struggling to do the same. "Indeed we are, (Y/n) (L/n)."

They both broke, and laughter filled the room, the sound echoing through the floorboards, unearthing the past where they had done just the same when they were years younger, but much the same.

Laurie sighed. "How is it that after five years of being apart, nothing has changed?"

"Well, I know you, Teddy, nothing can change that." (Y/n) smiled, gentle but full. Laurie felt a tugging on his heart - something almost painful if it weren't for the care in (Y/n)'s eyes, wrapping him in the most comforting sincerity - a gravity more divine than existing. "Even when we were far from each other, I had your list and my memories; you were the most full thing I ever had."

"I didn't know if you'd remember."

"I always remembered you."

Laurie breathed.

“Well,” (Y/n) began, something in their voice a little unsure, endearing Laurie already, “Now that we know we both remembered and kept the list of the other, I have to ask: did you learn to love my list?”

“I did.”

(Y/n) seemed pleased. “Even muddy, April mornings?”

Laurie chuckled, the feeling warm and pleasant in his chest - like a thunderstorm in June. “They were the first I learned to cherish.”

They smiled at each other once more.

-- taglist: @locke-writes, @brokenandheadoverheels​, @coffee--writes, @swanimagines, @amortensie // message me if you want to be added!

#little women #laurie laurence #theodore laurence x reader #theodore laurence #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #laurie imagine #laurie laurence imagine #theodore laurence imagine #x reader #gender neutral reader #imagine #reader insert #fluff #one shot #fic #fanfiction #fanfic

[writingtoforgetreality]

Stockholm Syndrome (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: During the fight with the Dora Milaje in his safe-house, Zemo made an exit. But not alone. For inexplicable reasons, he dragged you along. Probably because he wanted to mess with Sam & Bucky. Would the Baron kill you? Or worse?

Words: 4,083

Warnings: language, angst, fluff (?), kidnapping, spoilers for TFATWS, (Let’s put the angsty shit in this part & the fun stuff in the second one.), (Y/E/C) = your eye color, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The fight in front of you held your entire attention. Eyes focused on moving bodies, kicking, punching their way through. While you were not inexperienced when it came to battling, you preferred holding back. Bruises were not necessarily your favorite. Not these kind of bruises at least. All your ears could make out was the grunting radiating from the combat. Hence why the movements behind you stayed inconspicuous. Only when a cloth pressed against your nose & you had no choice but to breathe in, did you notice the jeopardy of the situation. Darkness enveloped you. The last thing you perceived was a dark silhouette picking you up. As much as you wanted to fight back, to defend yourself, it was impossible. All strength had dissipated. Whatever was happening, you hoped you would wake up again. This could not be how you died. You would not die.

Pain woke you up. But you were not hurt. At least that was what you remembered. Then it came to you. Someone had kidnapped you. If your eyes did not open soon, you would regret it later. Heavy eyelids slowly opened. Though it took many attempts to keep them that way. You scanned the room. There were no windows, no light which would have made that task easier. It took a few minutes to adjust to the obscureness. And once you did, you found yourself as perplexed as before. No restraints were obstructing your motions. Technically, you could up & leave. But it was never that simple, was it? The door was opposite of you. Your muscles were still sore. The act of standing up & waltzing over seemed like too much effort for you. The bleakness of the wall your back rested against was a more welcomed sensation. Your knees scooted closer to your chest. Arms raking around them, you hugged yourself. Hoping it would bring you a bit of comfort. Your brain failed to work properly. Because you were stumped. Who could have possibly seized you? Walker was busy getting his ass kicked. Lemar imitated his partner, pretty much. Sam ordered Bucky to help out & went into the battle right after. And Zemo was… Yeah, where the hell was Zemo during all of that? If you recalled correctly, he held a drink in his hand. Like you, he kept away from the fight. And then? You were aware that the Baron was not a saint. Neither were you. But you did not believe he would pull something like that. Then again, it was Zemo. Nobody knew his next step. Nobody but himself. Your foot tapped a rhythm on the cold, grey pavement. Usually, when your anxiety acted up, you distracted yourself. Fiddling with your hands or bouncing your legs. Something you could focus on that was not life threatening to your mind. The unknown beat managed to calm you down the slightest. Whoever held you hostage would be back soon. Your gut feeling told you so much.

Maybe you dosed off again. Because your body flinched when a creak reached your ears. Quickly, you looked around for possible threats. The only thing that had changed was the door sitting ajar. Only a diminutive gap. It was noticeable due to the light illuminating the room. There was no piece of furniture which meant that nobody lived here. It resembled a cell. But even cells had a bed, a chair. Something. The room turned dim again but only for a second. A shadow, you figured. Your captivator was here. So close, in fact, goosebumps erupted. A chill ran down your spine. This single interaction could modify your imprisonment. You still needed time to consider a successful escape plan. Which meant that you needed to observe the person keeping you here. Movies displayed such situations more than once. It was manageable. If they decided to show themselves & reveal their identity. Your eyes fell to the boots first. Black or a dark brown that was not detectable due to the lack of brightness. Next were the pants. Black again. The end of a coat came into view. Dark grey, almost anthracite. Your thoughts instantly went to one person. You could be mistaken. He was not the only one with a coat like that. Your gaze flickered up to his hands. The leather gloves were proof enough. Your (Y/E/C) eyes locked onto his brown ones. There was no shock written over your features. After all, deep down, you awaited this sight to be met with. As much as you wanted to withhold it, your eyes rolled & the sigh that left your lips was one of pure exhaustion. Zemo never made a secret out of it. His dislike for you started off the moment he first laid his eyes on you. From then on, it only seemed to increase steadily. You were a simple person. If someone treated you like shit, you returned that favor with pleasure & ten times worse.

“You are awake.” he stated the obvious after his frame entered through the doorway.

“Pretty sure I’m still dreaming.” you replied sarcastically, your elbows propping onto your knees. A smirk formed at the corners of his mouth. Whatever you said, it was the wrong thing.

“You dream about being locked inside a small cell? And I make an appearance as well? This does sound problematic, (Y/N). Nothing I would not be able to help you with.” he enjoyed this. Disgust made itself shown onto your face.

“Yeah? How could you possibly help me with that?” it took you a second to fully realize what you said. Immediately, you corrected yourself. “You know what? I don’t even wanna know.” your head rested in your hands, slightly embarrassed by turning this conversation awkward. Maybe it would have been more convenient if you just kept quiet. Zemo chuckled shortly but did not comment on it again.

“I assume you wonder why you are here.” the Baron observed your small frame on the floor. It was easy to recognize how uncomfortable you were.

“Your assumption might be correct.” your head tilted upwards, trying to hide the fear. Burying it deep down. You needed to think clearly so you could escape him.

“Would you like me to declare your purpose?” he questioned, eyebrows raising.

“Enlighten me, Baron.” you wasted no time with your reply. Maybe you imagined it but you could have sworn that his muscles tensed up when you called him by his title. You were the weaker one here so you kept your jokes at bay.

“I have no desire to get involved with the Wakandans. A getaway is more enjoyable with a suitable associate.” his hands gestured & you fathomed the seriousness behind his words.

“Oh, so that’s what I am now? An associate? Could’ve sworn I was your enemy. Improvement, I guess.” you focused on a lighter spot that interrupted the evenly dark color of the cement wall.

“I never declared you my enemy. That is solely your imagination.” Zemo stared at you but you would not give him the satisfaction of holding eye contact with him. He did not deserve it.

“I prefer my imagination then.” you stated & earned another chuckle from the Baron.

“Our departure is soon.” he let you know & left you alone once again. Great, so he did have a plan for you. But it did not seem like he wanted to murder you brutally. Basically, you could do nothing. The lock of the door clicked. No way out of this room. And your cellphone was no longer with you. He probably removed it from you while you were unconscious.

The drug Zemo had you breathe in really affected you. Tiredness rushed through you still. Falling asleep once again was inevitable. A steady, loud noise stirred you from your slumber. When your eyes opened, the chair you were seated in felt familiar. Your surroundings were not new to you. It was Zemo’s private jet. No sight of him. No sight of Sam & Bucky. The only company was the engine of the small plane, creating a ringing in your ears. Surprisingly, you were well rested. Your sleep schedule was messed up. On a good day, you slept for three hours. On a normal day, though, you were lucky if the dreamland even invited you in. Did that mean that you should thank Zemo? For drugging you? Your gratitude could stay inside, for now. It was kind of embarrassing to admit that you had enough rest because of him stunning you. All it would do was feeding his ego. He had enough of that already. Would it be clever to hop out of a plane that was thousands of feet in the air? A clever suicide mission, maybe. Zemo would not harm you. If he truly wanted to, you would be a ghost already. Where was he anyway? Certainly, he would not leave your side after kidnapping you. A look down your lap confirmed what you had feared. The trembling of your hands was noticeable. Almost worse than usual. If push came to shove, you could defend yourself perfectly fine. The Baron did not strike you as a fighter type of guy. Sure, he could handle a gun. In reality, the one thing he could really handle was his alcohol. If you had been in a cell for almost ten years, you would not be able to cope with this world either. Now that you were thinking about it...when was Zemo not drinking? Ever since you guys had teamed up, he had taken every chance to get some liquor into his system.

“How are you feeling?” a voice startled you. The cause of it was your dear captivator. His strut brought him over to you, taking a seat right opposite of you. Plopping down onto the soft cushion with a sigh, he intertwined his fingers in front of his chest. His chin rested on the back of them. The intensity with which he eyed you was unsettling. Your body curled together, shifting away from his rigid glance. The man in front of you frowned. Never before had you behaved that way. Usually, you were sarcastic, humorous. Your current state was uncommon. The fight or flight instinct kicked in. If you played by his rules, the cards were on your side. So the only natural thing was to answer him.

“Okay.” it was short but the tone held much meaning.

“Okay is not good.” he mumbled quietly, though you could still make out his words. The clouds outside of the window you were sitting next to looked like cotton. Smooth, soft. Perfect if you wanted to jump in. The sunset colored the sky in various, bright hues. A phenomenon. That was something that had always fascinated you. “Astonishing, is it not?” the silence broke when he spoke up yet again. You nodded, still gazing outside.

“We will arrive soon.” another voice joined you. The startle from your side could not be stopped. You hated how jumpy you were. Especially during such a situation. The strong, independent woman you usually were was gone. Right now, you were like a little girl, awaiting punishment for misbehavior. Apparently, the Baron was a mind reader because he soothed your worries immediately.

“You did nothing wrong, if that is one of your concerns.” he started. His eyes then flickered to the other man on the private jet. “Thank you, Oeznik.” small smiles were exchanged between the two of them. The assistant disappeared through a door again. Zemo being the only company left.

“Where are we going?” you had to know.

“Somewhere safe. Where nobody can locate me.” as his eyes met yours, he finished. “Us.” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His explanation was not helpful at all. You were still left in the dark. Your destination was unknown but he assured you that you would be safe. Zemo would never lie about something so significant. This bugging feeling was still present. If he did not tell you more about the location, maybe he could elucidate this.

“Why me? Why, out of everyone, did you kidnap me?” slight anger was behind your eyes but one could only notice if they looked precisely. The Baron’s head tilted. In amusement, you guessed. His forming smile held a hint of another emotion you could not quite identify.

“Kidnapping is such a harsh word, don’t you think?” was it mockery you could hear? “I believe there is no need for us to repeat our previous conversation. I told you why you’re here.” he stood up from his seat, dragging his body to the very end of the plane. There, he picked up two small glasses. The liquid of the half empty bottle of scotch poured a good amount in both of them. Evidently, one for him & one for you. His hand stretched out towards you & he offered you the drink. You eyed it suspiciously. While you were not one for drinking alcohol, maybe it would assist to calm your nerves. In the end, you reached for it, touching his hand in the process. The skin contact sent an unintended chill down your spine. Goosebumps were forming. The pit of your stomach felt odd. Never before had you experienced such a sensation. Though, & you had to admit that, it was everything but unpleasant. Your body language spoke louder than you would have liked. And it did not go unnoticed by the man in front of you. To avoid an awkward tension, he decided against commenting on your body’s reaction.

The first sip made you wince. A burning sensation washed down your throat. The Baron handled his alcohol way better than you did, that much was obvious. Unfortunately, the liquor did not numb your anxiety right away. The effect was awaited but luck was not on your side. Would it be rude to ask for another drink? The downside was not realizing how strong it was. If you got wasted then Zemo could take advantage of your state. Depended on how he defined taking advantage of you. The conversation that had died down for a while was resurrected. This time, it was you. This shocked not only you but also him.

“I don’t like you.” you stated monotonously.

“I am aware.” he chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You don’t like me either.” one of your eyebrows raised.

“An incorrect assumption.” his hands gestured to emphasize his words. You rolled your eyes, throwing your arms up in frustration.

“A freaking obvious fact.” you breathed out, falling back into your chair. The softness caressed you tenderly. A hum left you & your previous desperation was replaced by some sort of relaxation. Why did your emotions change so quickly? One moment, you were scared. The next, you were furious. Then, you untightened. All in the presence of the man who had kidnapped you.

“What is going through your mind right now?” seemed like he was eager to talk to you. Comfortable silence with Baron Zemo was not possible. It was either awkward or not quiet at all. Your head snapped into his direction. He was deep in thought. Occupied with whatever his mind came up with.

“I-I don’t know.” you were being honest. Spending more time with him meant no lies. At least not about such things. The next question came naturally. “What about you?” one corner of his lips lifted slightly. The first step in the right direction. Deep down, Zemo was aware that you did not exactly hate him. Liking him would be too far but at least, you tolerated him. Accepted his presence.

“I am quite fond of bringing you with me. Sam & James are irritating. Helpful but irritating. You are a delight to be around.” he confessed & you had the urge to call him out on his ridiculous behavior.

“Sounds fake but alright…” your annoyance was audible.

“I beg your pardon?” he abandoned his glass, placing it on the small table nearby. Elbows propped onto his knees & his upper body leaned forward, closer to you. But not close enough to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Ever since we met, we’ve been arguing non-stop. This is the first normal conversation between us.” your fingers pointed to him & then to you, signaling what you were talking about.

“Arguments are not an indicator for antipathy.” Zemo explained.

“Oh, they’re not?” the sarcasm was more than obvious. “What then?”

“They are concealing true emotions, burying your urges deep within.” casually spoken, as if he had prepared this exact speech multiple times before.

“My urges?” you questioned, making fun of his statement.

“Indeed.” he wore a winning smile & you hated the effect it had on you.

“Sure.” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “My only urge is to punch yo-“ both of your heads turned into the direction of Oeznik who unknowingly interrupted your conversation.

“We’re here.” he claimed, nodding briefly, & left you alone again. By the way his face changed, he looked like he was sorry for bothering the two of you. Truthfully, you were glad that he joined you because without him, you would have said something regrettable.

Paris. He dragged you to France. If your situation were any different, you would have felt excited to be here. Before you exited the private jet, Zemo threatened you. If you had the glorious idea to speak up before you arrived at your destination, you would regret it later. Basically, you thought he would kill you. Of course you had no clue that the Baron would never hurt you in any way. After all, you were a victim of his kidnapping. Whether he called it that or not. The small alleyways were decorated with narrow buildings sitting next to each other. The cobblestone street underlined the atmosphere perfectly. Eyes wide, you were overwhelmed by the impression of the beauty of the sweet town. When one of his hands reached for yours, you did not even flinch back. Because, if you were honest, it felt good. Your intertwined fingers brought you warmth. A feeling that spread out through your entire body. Sparks, almost like the beginning of a firework, started forming. The sun shone brightly. Your eyes closed contently. Hence why you did not notice Zemo watching your every move. He reminisced your features closely. The sunlight brought out the beauty of you in a way that was worth remembering. Your body sensed something. It was in your nature when someone stared at you. Carefully, your eyes opened, showing the (Y/E/C) colors that glowed almost mysteriously in the light. Warm brown ones locked onto yours. The two of you exchanged an honest, almost shy smile.

“What?” your head tilted to the side, observing his face. Looking for a sign. Any sign. But Zemo was a clandestine guy. It was almost impossible to look through him. Something inside you took that as a challenge. Maybe you could make his walls come crashing down. Maybe you were the one to change him. Wait. Why were your thoughts running down that road? He was the person to take you away from your friends. The sympathy that started building up was wrong. That much you knew. Resisting felt like a tough task. What did he say during the flight? Something about pushing down your urges. This was the first time you understood the meaning.

If you thought the town was pretty then the apartment you entered was stunning. It was on the top floor. Spacious, furnished in a minimalist way. Overly white, accentuated with colorful artwork. Special pieces to complete the look of it. It screamed expensive. The process of taking everything in took a few minutes. It was overstraining. In the best way possible. You should screw down your excitement. After all, you were part of an incredibly dangerous situation. But you let his touch linger on your skin. Just for a fraction longer. If you really wanted to, you could have retreated. Something told you that Zemo would not have forced you to hold onto him. That thought alone calmed you down a little further. Technically, he was not a stranger. Throughout the missions you had performed together, with Sam & Bucky, you two had become acquainted with. You were associates, apparently. And associates were not supposed to fear one another. Then again, associates would not kidnap each other. Your body was overthrown with mixed signals. Unknown what was wrong & what was right. Your friends would probably describe you as insane, reckless. Maybe you were. Maybe the last few weeks had formed you into a different type of person. That type who sympathized with a criminal. With a criminal who broke out of a high security jail. Since when had criminals become your type? And why were you starting to think in a very friendly, almost amorous way? Looked like you really were insane.

Who would have thought the Baron to be an excellent chef? Definitely not you. But here he was, preparing a meal for you. This was actually pretty sweet of him. His body behind the stove & his eyes focused on the task. It was a sight for sore eyes. Only, of course, if he were not Zemo you were referring to. While he cooked, you set the table. He assured you that you did not have to but it felt like the right thing to do. It was the least you could do. What were you even saying? He kidnapped you, for God’s sake. Your body, your emotions, should be damned.

“Is this something you do often?” Zemo’s question caught you off guard. For a moment, you halted in your tracks. Cutlery was being put down. A deep breath left your mouth.

“What?” your bewildered expression made him chuckle. Funny to watch your perplexity.

“Living in your head more than in the present.” his proclamation cut through the tension.

“I…um, haven’t realized that, actually.” you answered awkwardly. Your hand raised to the back of your head, resting behind your ear.

“You do. When spending time with Sam & James. And now. It is quite entertaining.” he eyed you closely. It made you slightly uncomfortable.

“Why?” your curiosity got the best of you. That was nothing new. Even before he brought you here, your nosiness was on of your more obvious characteristics.

“Because the light in your eyes shifts. You are more at ease. Not to forget your smile…” Zemo trailed off at the end of his sentence, voice a little softer than usual.

“What about my smile?” you really were curious. Would it be in your favor or not? There was only one way to figure that out.

“It differs from when you are actively engaged in a conversation. The corners of your mouth lift in a softer way. No hesitation or restriction.” he finished, his sparkling brown eyes meeting yours. Due to the embarrassment, you could not keep eye contact. So you averted your gaze, facing the almost empty plate in front of you.

“You talk like you’ve known me forever.” your whispers were almost missed. The tone so quiet, even your racing heart was louder.

“I am simply skilled at reading people. You facilitate that process, actually.” every single word he spoke made so much sense that it almost did not make sense anymore. There was no other way to describe it.

“I do? How?” your constant short questions were amusing to him. On one hand, you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as possible. On the other hand, you inquired every single time he finished talking.

“I assume it is because you do not fear opening up to me & letting me in.” people who did not know your history would have believed you two had been friends for years. By the way he discerned the small, almost unnoticeable details about you. Details you did not even know existed in the first place.

“You assume an awful lot, Baron.” you teased, eyes moving to his face gingerly.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” but you could not. Because it would have been a lie. A smirk made its way onto his face when you did not give him a reply. Unintentionally, you mimicked his expression. He had you. Right here, he had you. And he was not the only one aware of the shift in the situation. You were just as deep in it as he was. It was a game with fire. Who would get burned in the end?

~to be continued~

Published (04/28/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @msmarvelsmain, @friday18eo, @crackerjackharkness, @waiting-for-motivation, @obsessedwithfandomsx, @friday18eo, @bibliophilewednesday, @princess-yuna, @trenton007, @pedropascallovebot, @your-lovers-heart, @stressedoutsteph (thanks for your support <3)

#helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo #zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #baron zemo x reader #daniel brühl #tfatws #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #bucky barnes #stockhom syndrome #imagine #reader insert #reader imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #avengers #avengers x reader #marvel imagine #avengers imagine

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from @watermelon1568, @lokisgirl5, @cocoamoonmalfoy and anon. This is so fluffy and maybe a little silly, but in a good way! Enjoy everyone and have a good Christmas Eve! ♥

Words: 2635 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of blood, implied smut

Additional NSFW warning: This Imagine contains implied period sex, just in case this is something you are uncomfortable with.

Loki might be a tiny tad OOC in this one because the requests were just so fluffy but I did my best! Enjoy!

-

Loki sighed. There you were again, running around with a list in hand looking much like the one Santa Clause had been carrying in that Christmas film Thor had forced him to watch. For the past few days, weeks almost, actually, you had been collecting everyone’s Christmas wishes like a squirrel collecting nuts for the winter. Even he knew everyone’s Christmas wishes by now. You had truly asked everybody, even the cleaning women who came to tidy up the entire Avengers facility once a week.

Loki could not quite put his finger on what it was that fascinated him so much about you—all he did know was that he too wanted to get you a Christmas present, if only just to see the surprised look on your face. He almost snorted. It was disappointment he felt, disappointment and envy because he longed to be the one to put a smile on your face on Christmas Day—and he didn’t even celebrate Christmas, not really.

Furthermore, he had not failed to notice how you avoided his presence like you were playing cat and mouse. You had, much to his surprise, asked him for his Christmas wish too the other day, all timid and unable to look him in the eye and Loki had been so taken aback he had not known an answer. The God of Mischief was many things but he was not blind and not stupid—he was perceptive. Villain or not, you were into him—and he was going to get your confession.

Smirking to himself, and determined to put an end to playing tag, he followed you into the empty hallway on your way back to your room, pushed past you and then unceremoniously blocked your way.

“O-Oh… hey, Loki.” You chirped.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“I, uh, actually, um… n-no?”

“Well, you did ask me what I wanted for Christmas, did you not?”

“Oh!” Your face lit up. “Oh, yes! Yes, what would you like?”

Loki thought about it for a moment. He needed an answer fast to not look like a moron now.

His lips parted. “I do miss writing with a quill and ink. Could you acquire a set for me? Surely, they are still being used on Midgard.”

Geez! How had you not thought about that? Loki truly was a scholar with all those books in his room, and that was a marvellous idea. “Y-yes, of course!” You responded, nodding eagerly in the process. But when you moved forward, Loki, instead of letting you pass now, put his hand against the wall so you were trapped.

“Hmm… Is there a particular reason you always get so nervous in my presence?” He asked. Your eyes widened. Fuck.

“Y-you… you tried to… you almost took over t-the p-planet, you k-know.” You lied quickly.

“Ah, yes. Of course… that must be it.” He responded with a knowing smirk. Oh, fuck. Did he have to be so god damn gorgeous?

“You never said what it was you want for Christmas, my dear.” He said then, blue eyes locking with yours. Your heart skipped a beat—no, actually, you were wondering whether it was still beating at all. You did have a Christmas wish, of course and you wanted to do backflips all across the hallway that Loki of all people took an interest in what you’d like—or maybe he just wanted to make conversation. Keep calm.

“Oh… it’s silly. Not really possible.” You replied sheepishly, gasping when he hooked a finger under your chin to gently force you to look up at him. He was definitely going to be the death of you.

“Tell me.” He urged you on.

“The only thing I… I’ve always wanted to have a dog. A loyal non-human companion, someone to cuddle with when it’s cold and who will never judge me but love me just the way I am… and they are just so cute! But that’s not possible,” You repeated quickly. “Imagine an innocent little puppy when everything’s on fire and another alien race attacks the planet!”

Loki hummed. Dogs were not common on Asgard. He himself had had a pet snake growing but released it into the wild after Thor and his friends had repeatedly stolen it to play silly and dangerous games. He could see why you kept that wish to yourself. Living among the Avengers, a dog might get in the way during missions—he did not doubt it would be helpful and capable of tearing off their enemies’ faces but your worry for it would distract you from a fight.

Still… perhaps there was a way. A smirk grew on his lips and your flustered reaction to it pleased him, making it grow wider.

-

It was early Christmas morning when Loki returned. It had taken him all of his wit and cunningness to leave the Avengers facilities unattended and without anyone asking suspicious questions but he had succeeded. The wooden box he was carrying—with many holes in them so the little creature could breathe—Loki sneaked across the hallway and past your room to hide his present for you in his own, already imagining your priceless reaction… was he hoping for a hug? Oh, he was. When was the last time anyone had hugged him? Perhaps you would, upon receiving the fluffy little creature in the box.

The dog winced. “Shh! Quiet, you silly little creature, you are going to wake up your mother!”

It was then he heard an ear-piercing scream coming from your room. He nearly dropped the box, turning on his heel to storm into your room like a tornado annihilating everything in its path. Your bed was empty, the sheets ruffled. There was a small beam of light coming from your bathroom—the closer he came, the more he could make out the rustling of fabric.

“I bloody hate being a woman…” You murmured to yourself, making the God of Mischief frown. Alarmed, he stepped closer and entered the bathroom without knocking—he barely remembered to set the box aside to draw his daggers if need be.

You were sat on the toilet, your white Christmas pyjamas with candy canes and gingerbread men on them soiled with blood. Loki’s eyes widened. There was blood on the floor too… and on your fingers.

His fingers were itching to materialise his weapons, yet he could see no enemy who could have attacked you. You gasped when he barged into the room, concealing your nakedness from the waist down with some toilet paper.

“What in the nine happened to you?” The amount of blood was almost concerning for a mortal. Had someone surprised you in your sleep? Who had managed to break into the Avengers facilities in the first place?

“How did you get in here? No wait, you’re awake already? Umm… Merry Christmas?” You swallowed. Talk about embarrassing yourself in front of the God of Mischief.

“We need to get you to a healer… a doctor, that is what you call them here?” You stared at him for a moment.

The last thing he expected was for you to burst out laughing. The whole situation was so hilarious you even forgot to be nervous around him for once.

“Oh, Loki… I’m okay, I’m not dying, I promise. I got surprised by my period, is all.”

“Your… period? Your period… as in your menstruation cycle?”

“Yes. Do women on Asgard not have that?”

“They do but… not like this.” Heavens, he felt stupid. He had thought you were dying, openly shown his concern… and you had laughed.

“Loki…” It was like you had heard his thoughts. “Thank you for checking on me. I was just being frustrated but I promise I’m okay.” You had probably disturbed his sleep but the fact that Loki cared enough to come to your help, admitting that just perhaps… he actually liked you. “W-would you mind?” Loki raised his brows, his lips parting.

“Yes, of course.”

He turned around for you to get dressed again (never before had you been more grateful for the pile of more or less dirty laundry on the floor next to your toilet) and nodded, only realising now that he had indeed just proved that one way or another, he had taken a liking into you. It was then the dog winced again just outside the bathroom door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. In fact, I shall leave you… how did you get out of that box?” Eager and curious, the puppy must have somehow knocked its wooden box over. When Loki looked behind him, he found the lid on the floor, the young dog hurtling towards you.

“Oh my god! Hey there, little guy! Where did you come from?” You giggled when the dog attempted to jump up on you. You picked it up, grinning when it licked your face. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Loki pursed his lips. Oh, great. Now he was getting the hug. He furrowed his brows. Heavens, this was an innocent little puppy. Against all reason, he already loved the little guy with all his heart himself, how could he possibly feel jealous?

“You were not supposed to see it yet. I was going to put the box under the Christmas tree.”

“R-really? You mean… he’s for me? Oh, Loki… but h-how? I mean… I love him. But how can I keep him safe here? Is that really a good idea?”

“Well… he is, in fact, not a normal dog.” Loki remarked.

Your eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“Dogs are rare on Asgard but there are indeed a few traders who raise them. This unprepossessing creature has a life expectancy five times as high as Midgardian dogs—not to mention it is stronger, more intelligent and much like Thor and me, more resistant to pain and injury.”

“You’re a superdog then, aren’t you? Yes, you are, such a good boy. I need a name for him.” You announced. Loki raised his arms. That would be your decision. His pet snake had never had a name. “I’ll think of something.” Smiling, you stepped forward and kissed Loki on the cheek whose lips parted in surprise.

“Thank you so much. I didn’t think you would… why did you?” He said nothing in response. He couldn’t possibly tell you that he wanted a hug and that the only person he wanted it from was you. Your lips on his face had already felt like liquid fire, warming him from the inside out. Heavens, what was wrong with him? You were a mortal. He couldn’t possibly like you this much.

“You should go back to bed.” He said after a while, clearing his throat. “It is still early.” You nodded. He was right. Besides, you and your little puppy needed to get to know each other.

Needless to say, however, you couldn’t fall asleep again after you had gotten changed into new pyjamas and then cuddled with your new pet. Loki had gotten you a dog. Why? He owed you nothing, and quite on the contrary, you highly doubted Loki would even bother to get the rest of the Avengers a Christmas gift.

-

In the meantime, Loki himself returned to his room, shaking his head in the process. He was being ridiculous. The other day in the hallway, he had still managed to remain composed but the more time he spent around you, the softer he became for you.

He had been worried for you upon seeing all that blood and it had scared him. Love and affection weren’t exactly emotions he got to experience a lot and then for a human of all species…

He realised with a start just what it was that was happening to him. He was courting you, wasn’t he? He had not done anything alike in years, the last time for a beautiful Asgardian woman who had turned out to take more interest in Thor than him.

Loki was no expert on dating. He had never had the need for it… not until you. A growl escaped his lips. How dangerous for his already shattered heart would it be to give in to his desire and make you smile again? To feel your lips against his skin once more?

Another growl. He was addicted to you already. Jumping up from the bed, he left the facilities again, this time to head a few miles west. Frigga had always said that love goes through the stomach. He might as well try that strategy out.

-

About two hours later, there was a soft knock on your door. You stirred, eyes fluttering open. Your puppy—you had still not thought of a name for it—had curled up in your arms, still sleeping soundly.

“Yes?”

The door opened to reveal Loki. With a smirk, he produced something from behind his back—a box with the logo of your favourite pancake shop on it. Your jaw dropped.

“Merry Christmas.” He announced.

“Oh my goodness… Loki, you are so sweet.”

The God of Mischief raised an eyebrow. “Sweet is not exactly what I was hoping for.” He replied, albeit smiling.  You sat up carefully to not wake the puppy, accepting the pancakes all the while licking your lips hungrily. Now that was one way to start Christmas Day.

“How about considerate?” You tried again, smiling up at him sweetly. Loki smirked, hands clasped behind his back. He almost appeared a little… awkward.

You longed to ask him why he was doing all this but then again… you could think of only one answer. It couldn’t possibly be, no?

“Care to share? They are really good.”

“It appears so. The entire restaurant smelled like a sugar realm.”

“Is that a thing?”

“No.”

“Oh… pity.” He chuckled.

Twenty minutes in which you silently ate with relish went by, the puppy still sleeping peacefully in your bed, with you unable to stop petting it all the time. Once you had finished the very last bite, you simply dropped the empty takeaway-packaging on the floor.

“Thank you so much, Loki. I couldn’t have imagined better Christmas presents.”

He nodded, watching your every move as you moved in to give him another kiss on the cheek.

This time though, in just this moment, Loki turned his head to face you again, your lips landing on his instead. You gasped, even more so when he deepened the kiss, moving his mouth gently against yours, tongue slipping between your lips to taste you. Oh my god. Loki was kissing you. Loki was kissing you!

It felt like a demon from Muspelheim had set his body on fire, from the inside out. Loki was ablaze. Unable to stop himself, his arms came up to pull you closer into his body until you were straddling him, your fingers digging into his clothes. You both knew where this was going.

There was no doubt you were going to wake up the little dog when you pushed him back on the mattress, overcome with a sudden confidence and hunger that made you feel invincible. Loki did not object. The only reason you hesitated was the fact you remembered just then that you were on your period. Reluctantly, you pulled away.

“Loki… maybe we should do this… another time. My… period, remember?”

“A little bit of blood will not stop me from ravishing you, my dear.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“A-are you sure?”

Loki nodded slowly and intimately, his blue gaze never leaving yours.

Next thing you knew, the both of you lost all of your layers of clothing one by one. Scratch making a list for Christmas presents for your friends to make them happy… you couldn’t quite believe that Loki actually reciprocated your affection for him. This certainly was the most amazing Christmas yet.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#loki #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson fluff #thor #thor imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #tom hiddleston

[loverdrew]

Do It For Me | b.b

Synopsis: Y/N may never be able to forgive Bucky if he goes through with his decision. (pre-endgame with a twist, very inaccurate storyline and writing I know but it’s all fiction)

Warnings: a few cuss words here and there

Based off of Greys Anatomy (between Izzie and Denny)

My first ever Bucky Barnes fanfic! I’m getting more into writing for Marvel characters.

I had been sat up in my room at the Avengers compounds for the whole day at his point; harnessing my magic, drawing/reading to calm me down, and just enjoying a nice day off. Everything seemed quiet, a little too quiet for my taste. No one had come knocking on my door to talk or check up on me. After a few minutes I started to hear talking through my headphones and it was coming from outside my door. I slowly let my earbuds drop from my ears, silently opening up my door and creeping downstairs. It had seemed to more I got down the steps, I saw more people come into view. All backs were turned, some arms crossed, but voices were definitely raised. It felt like more than one person kept trying to speak and once at the bottom step, I saw the one person who was the center of it all.

Wanda was the first one to see me, cutting her sentence short, and soon everyone followed. Steve’s face dropped, biting his lower lip and looking at the floor. Bucky stood up, eyes almost bulging out of his head. I looked around stunned at everyones faces as they all made a collective sigh.

“W-what’s...what’s going on guys.” Wasn’t so much of a question, but more of a ‘tell me now or I’ll crush you guys with just a thought’. My powers were growing, everyone knew this. With one scream, a whole city could go deaf. With no swipe of my hand, I can send more than 10 men flying 100 feet. Most of the time they wouldn’t dare bother me in fear of my emotions becoming heightened and possibly destroying something. But something tells me right now might be the first time that happens.

“I said, what’s going on.” My hands glowed purple, the color of my powers. Wanda immediately rushed in front of me and looked me in the eyes, rubbing her hands over mine. When she found out I also harnessed powers from an infinity stone, Tony made it a point to have her help me maintain my magic. Her touch softened the glow, instantly calming down my heart rate. She repeated the same phrase to me; ‘don’t let it take control of you, take control of it’. The purple glow went away, as she guided me towards the group.

“Thanos is coming, Y/N.” Tony spoke up.

“And we’re trying to figure out how to stop him once and for all but...there was an idea brought up.” Bruce chimed in, and I followed his gaze right to Bucky. His head laying low. My mind went to the darkest of places. Bucky had never looked so ashamed. All I wanted to do was hug him and rub up and down his back, he always liked that. The last time I did that for him was a few nights ago when he had yet another nightmare and I found him downstairs watching TV even though I knew he was exhausted. He was too afraid to fall asleep. I remember that night, thinking about how badly I wanted to tell him how I felt. He had been my rock since coming into the compound, even if nobody else saw it. Our friendship consisted of late night snacks and conversations, training together making each other stronger, and always communicating and tell each other the truth no matter what. But oh, how I wanted that friendship to mean more to him as it does to me. But I would panic, thinking I wasn’t ever going to be good enough for one of the best people I’d ever met. He deserved a woman who was just as great as he was. 

“Tell her.” Natasha spoke, anger laced in her voice.

“Bucky...” I whispered. 

“My greatest wish in life is to take back every bad thing I did in this world. Every person I had killed, hurt, ruined their life.” He looks at Tony with deep regret. “And I can’t ever do that physically, but maybe in another way, I can.” He was rubbing his hands together avoiding my gaze.

“Okay? Bucky that’s great that you’ve figured out how you want to do that-” 

“You didn’t let him finish.” Sam said with a monotone voice.

“We need to be ready whenever Thanos decides to come. And the only way for me to get my wish is to...be the one that’s sacrificed during the battle.” My heart stopped and the ringing in my ears began to pick up. Wanda could see my hands glowing much brighter and more rapidly this time. I could feel her hands come up to the sides of my arms but within a flash my whole body shook the entire room like an earthquake.

“What!!” I walked over to him and slammed down on the table. “Are you out of your god damn mind Barnes!”

He tried to reach out but I raised my hand, stopped his movement and moving his arm to stay at his side, unable to move it.

“No, no, no you’re not doing this. You guys please tell him he is NOT sacrificing himself! You have no idea how much power those stones are! Just look at me! I have the same powers as a stone yet I can’t control shit Bucky! It’s out of control you’ll be dead before you can even use one stone to fight off Thanos!”

“I’ve been working with Tony and Shuri on a way to help me harness the power. They’ve been working on a suit for me that is stronger than Tony’s. Y/N you have to understand that this is my way of righting my wrongs, if I die then I die a hero who saved the whole world, not someone who use to kill hundreds of people with no remorse.” I turned towards Tony, his eyes becoming scared as he held his breath.

“You...” I throw my hands up and thrashed Tony into the wall, shattering it. He couldn’t move, paralyzed by fear at what I could do to him. Wanda yelled out to stop, but I couldn’t hear anything over my own boiling anger. “You knew about this. You knew he wanted to die and didn’t try to stop him!”

“I-I was just doing what I thought was the only option.” I slammed him again into the wall.

“There’s other options Tony!” I began to cry out, tears instantly springing from my eyes so quick it took me a second to realize I was even crying. With each puff of my chest my powers weakened as I wasn’t paying as much attention anymore, my brain becoming overstimulated with dark thoughts.

Bucky came up behind me and brought his arms around mine, his cheek pressed up against the back of my head.

“You’re not doing this Buck, we’ll find another way.” I said in between cries. I looked around seeing everyone else become emotional at my breakdown. Natasha was like a mother figure to me, this was the first time I was seeing her tear up. Wanda was my protector, but she didn’t know how to protect me from my own feelings. And everyone who surrounded me, who watched me grow from a 20 something year old uncontrollable witch to a grounded and a fantastic Avenger, wore heavy hearts and hooded eyes. I turned around quickly wiping my eyes of any tears and stood tall. My breathing coming back to normal. “It’s okay we’ll-we’ll find another way. There’s gotta be another way right?” 

“Y/N...” He said sadly, clutching my hair. I pushed him off and walked away giving some distance between us, actually, between the whole crew. I stood on one side of the room while the rest remained where they were.

“Don’t do that. Don’t try to make me okay with this. Alright, you did some shit in your past Bucky, so what we all don’t have the best track records as angels. And I’m sure you don’t feel like you deserve to live with all of the trauma you’ve endured but guess what? You do! You know how you get the fix things? You become a better person, a fighter and protector of the world! People change Bucky and I’ve seen it first hand in you! You deserve to live just as much as anyone else!” Everyone remained silent, so I assumed they agreed with me. “And if you tell me one more time about sacrificing yourself because that’ll right your wrongs in this world, so help me God, I will kill you myself right now!” And without thinking, my hand shot out a purple beam of light, latching onto a glass vase and chucking it around the room, creating a whole in the wall and the glass shattering everywhere.

He walked up to me peacefully with his hands held in the air.

“Y/N, please. I’m going to be alright, you don’t have to worry this much. You should be more concerned about protecting yourself. I definitely wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t do this and something worse happens to you.”

I laughed in sadness.

“What about me? What about me when you die!” I saw multiple people begin to shed the same tears I was. We had all grown fond of Bucky when he joined us. He really proved and showed deep down, behind the trauma HYDRA had left him, he was a great man. That’s why I fell so deeply in love with him. “That’s the worst thing that could ever happen to me Bucky! I will die inside if you don’t exist in this world!”

“Y/N-” more tears sprang from his eyes. His voice cracked and got lower. It’s like he couldn’t find the words to describe the pain in his heart at the thought of leaving you behind. Without having told you that he loved you too. 

“No I get it! You’ll be okay, you’ll be fine with it but what about me? Please, don’t do it for yourself, do it for me please!” I hunched over, the grief and pain overtaking my body. I felt too weak to even stand and continue yelling at him. “Please Bucky, please do this for me! Don’t leave me please don’t do this, I can’t take it please! You have to do this for me, because if you don’t I will never be able to forgive you!”

He stepped closer at a slower pace.

“For dying? For saving the world?”

“No for making me love you!” I began to cry out harder, the ring in my voice shaking the room once again, making everyone’s hands fly up to their ears as I got louder and louder. Natasha at this point was full on bawling, along with most people in the room. I think it was safe to say everyone knew of my affection towards the man at the center of attention, and maybe that’s why everyone had left me alone today. Afraid of this exact situation. The one person, the one thing in this world that can bring me to tears at my feet.

Bucky’s eyes filled with adoration as he ran up to me and held me on the floor in between his legs. I clutched at his arm crying into his shoulder. He looked back at Tony, who only gave him a nod. They had agreed together that one of them was bound to be the sacrifice when it came to defeating Thanos. Bucky of course still wanted it to be him, he felt it was the most right option. But when he looked back at Tony, clutching the love of his life in his arms, Tony took that as a final answer. Tony was okay with the decision he had come to long ago. He was ready to die for the good of everyone else, but nobody knew that yet. Bucky wasn’t giving up the fight, but now it only became that much harder to leave her behind. It was easier not knowing her feelings, but it had come to the light. Bucky wanted a life like Tony, the kids, the wife, everything. But at what cost? He was still going to fight to the death if he had to, but the decision to be the one to end it all was fading away.

“It’s okay Y/N, I promise we’ll talk more about it and find another way if we have to.”

“We have to Bucky, we have to.” My cries didn’t stop, but my voice lowered. My eyes caught everyone else’s, almost embarrassed at my sudden outburst of devoted love to Bucky, but everyone knew, they just never heard it from me. “Just hold onto me please.” I pleaded.

“I’m here Doll, I promise I’ll stay right here.”

#marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #the avengers #avengers imagine #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes x reader

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Molly knows about the reader’s relatives and she’s not so sure to put her trust in a girl that had just betrayed her own family

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Hi! i’m so happy that you guys liked this thing! thank you so much for your support and, again, if you want to keep reading this let me know. Same note as ever, english not my mother language, so tell me if something’s is wrong.

Chapter 2: Not your family

The next morning turned out to be quieter than you imagined.

You slowly got out of bed and looked at everything around you noticing how quaint Bill's old room was. The ceiling was lined with grainy wallpaper with stacks of photographs of Quidditch players hanging from the reeds that moved from side to side, simulating the playing field; the right side of the room had a huge hole behind the small stool that tried to hide it, and from that hole a small garden gnome was sleeping peacefully with a small piece of cloth on top of his head. You stood up, walking towards the huge window that gave you a beautiful view of the Weasley's garden that at that moment was covered by a thin layer of drizzle that had fallen during the night.

Molly's fruit trees gleamed under the faint rays of the sun and you saw how a doxy from between the leaves poisoned Mrs. Weasley's apples, causing them to fall from the tree branches in a thick black mass with a foul smell coming out of it. You shook your head, excited to witness a very different way to wake up.

Even though several minutes have passed since you woke up, the house continued to remain in a strange silence that made you think that the family had decided to leave the burrow with the intention of buying more supplies or something like that. You knew that Bill wasn’t at home precisely for his obligations within the Order, so you didn’t worry about looking for him around the room, so you decided that a better option was going down to the dining room and know what was happening.

As you went down the spiral staircase, you cursed in a whisper when you forgot to put on your slippers before leaving the bedroom cause the floor was so cold that you slipped a couple of times. Back in the days, when you were still welcome in your parents' house, you had many servants who did all the things for you - putting on your shoes as soon as you woke up was one of those things - but now that your life had changed so much, you assumed that you would have to adapt and start taking care of your own needs.

Your curious eyes roamed the walls covered in family photos that caused a big warmth in your chest. In each of those photographs, all of Molly's children appeared along with their father, smiling for the camera and sending effusive greetings. A pic was hanging at the fireplace were Molly and Arthur were carrying a small white bundle crying his lungs out. You assumed it was Bill as his parents seemed too young back then and even as a small baby, you could recognize those tantrum features anywhere.

A giggle escaped your lips when you noticed a funny sequence from that same photo in which, even with Bill crying in his mother's arms, his father tried to carry him for a moment to calm him down, however the baby's cries didn’t stop. The baby was so annoyed that he ended throwing up  the milk ration that he must have had before the photo session on his father's neat shirt.

You laughed because you knew that William's impertinence was something he had carried with him for several years now.

"Bill hates those photos." You jumped in your place scared to see Molly standing behind you. Your cheeks turned red “He says that it’s embarassing but i think that’s nonsense. He was an adorable baby”

"he was," you answered, looking anywhere but into Molly's shrewd eyes. "but I guess displaying them in the fireplace isn’t the right thing to do."

“Is it not?

"No, they should be at the front door where everyone can see them”

Molly giggled as you watched the sequence of photos over and over again. A silence settled between you, but surprisingly it was not an awkward silence, but one that was allowing you to create a bond that neither of you expected. Mrs. Weaslsey brought up a rag, wiping it around the corners of the photo from the dust.

"Arthur and I had to save up for months to take those pictures," she mentioned wistfully, "we just had Bill and it seemed like a good idea to welcome him into our family with a gesture like that. Arthur was new in the ministry and wasn't earning too much, but we had that quirk and decided we could afford to skip certain things to pay for the pictures. It cost us ten galleons and it still took us four months to gather them”

“Oh” You didn't know what to say, but you just kept looking at the photograph feeling a bit uncomfortable. You never had those problems at home because your family was insanelly rich thanks to the inheritance in life that your grandfather Tim had left to his son and later to his grandchildren. Even the descendants of your grandfather's servants came to work in your house, reason enough for you and your siblings to grow up with no sense of responsibility other than your own wishes. Molly sighed remembering those times when life seemed to be easier.

"So when Bill asked me to remove it from the fireplace, I refused. He doesn't know how hard it was to raise that money, but I think he has nothing to be ashamed of, he was too adorable!

"I don't doubt it for a second, Mrs. Weasley."

"You can call me Molly," she said, walking back to the kitchen where you continued watching the way the pans moved back and forth preparing breakfast. You were not very good at cooking - in fact, you had never cooked before- however, that didn’t stop you from offering your help. So you took a pan, placed it on the stove, and decided that you would find a way to make a good mountain of strawberry-filled pancakes just like your dear nanny did. Molly observed you carefully. "I think that now that you are living with us it is appropriate to have a more cordial treatment.My son told me a lot about you”

“Just the good things, i hope”

“Kind of” You stopped mixing ingredients to look at her carefully” He told us a bunch of marvelous things about you and how you two met. Actually, what worries me the most is what he didn’t tell us”

And there was the recrimination you were waiting for. You were aware that it had to arrive sooner or later, however, you would have been grateful that it did it when Bill were by your side to give you the opportunity to defend yourself properly. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, knowing that what Molly needed to hear from your own lips was which family you came from. You continued your task with the pancakes, turning out as bad as you expected.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly," he corrected.

"Molly" you smiled slowly "But believe me when I tell you that it was me who asked William not to mention anything about my last name or where I come from. I know that in this case, with the war above our heads, it is necessary to be certain of the people who enter your family and I apologize for that, it's just ... Bill is very important to me” Molly's eyes narrowed “Since we met ... I have found a home in him and well, all that feels when someone is in love. "Mrs. Weasley shook her head, understanding the feeling." I have experienced the rejection before. When people know that Tom Riddle is my family ... they run away in fear, curse my family and even walk away from us, as if sharing a blood bond makes us as evil as he is.

“And it’s not like that?” Molly asked with a hand on her neck. She didn’t want to be like the others and judge you without knowing the full story, just as she had promised Bill the night before that she would, but it was so difficult not to remember the death of his brothers by Voldemort’s hands and to pretend nothing had happened in the past. You sighed because the eggs you cracked on the bowl got mixed with their own shell “ I've heard of the Grants before, they're all Death Eaters, including your siblings!”

“It is difficult to have to choose a side  when you don’t have your own convictions”

"And you have it?"

You looked at Molly in pain. Of course you expected those reactions from Bill's mother, she was within her right to be upset that her oldest son never told her that he was in a relationship with a girl who seemed to have the most fucking powerful and evil wizard in the world as a great-uncle. No, Molly wasn't mad, she was deadly angry, she felt like she was bursting!

Her hands became fists and without knowing how, you found yourself between the wall and Molly's big arms from one second to the other. The pancake batter was forgotten, as was the woman's promise to treat her son's girlfriend in a good way.

"How is it possible ..." Molly questioned in an agitated voice, pressing your arms against the wall, "... that a single deer leaves the nature of its own herd?" How can you ensure that one rotten apple even in a gold container doesn’t rot the others?”Your breath caught at the questions of the woman in front of you. Once again, you were aware that your presence wouldn’t be good news to them, but at least you hoped they understood your motives before judging you “Explain to me, (Y/ N) Grant, when have you seen a pig away from his equals?”

Your words caught in your throat at Molly's fierce question. Bill had talked a lot about the temper of his mother. Even if she could be really grumpy at times, she was in general a very sweet, pleasant and maternal woman with everyone; however, you didn’t fit into that generality because it seemed that the woman was determined to kill you with her own hands.

"If my presence bothers you so much, then you shouldn't have let Bill and I to stay here."

“He's my son! All I want for him is to be happy, and that's why I don't understand what he managed to see in you”

"Maybe the same thing you saw in your husband." Molly's lips twitched in anger, but you didn't stop. You hoped that she would at least understand what your words meant, because that would make it easier for both of you to try at least get along better, even if Molly seemed not to want to do it under any circumstances. How is it that this haughty little girl dared to compare herself with her dear and wonderful husband? "I'm sorry, but I don't think this conversation is going to take us anywhere."

"If someone betrays his own family ..." Molly stopped you before you walked out the front door. The others got down the stairs, seeing the scandal formed in the kitchen “The rest of us can't expect too much, can we?

Your eyes blured.

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagines #bill weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #domhnall gleeson imagine #domhnall gleeson #harry potter #fred weasley imagines #weasley

[raamyun-and-rambles]

Of Qingxins and Rattles: One

Fandom: Genshin Impact  Pairing: Xiao x Reader 

Summary: He's afraid to reach out, to touch something so pure that a being like him must never hold. The voices in his head scream blasphemy and lies.

———–

Xiao was a being that has existed for thousands of centuries. 

Which meant that he has outlived countless of people, watching them come and go as they eventually get taken by the passage of time.

It was also safe to say that the yaksha has experienced much more than any other mortal could in their entire lifetime. He's travelled the entirety of Liyue on foot, has bore witness to phenomenon that people could only talk about in hushed whispers as the eons pass them by and has fought a number of battles that no human could ever imagine. The blood that stained his hands wasn't something that could be easily washed away and Xiao was convinced that anything good touched by those hands would wither and perish. He was a sinner and Xiao was determined to live the rest of his life paying off the debt of his sins in perpetual agony until you waltzed into his life, turning everything he's come to known in disarray the moment he saw the breeze catch locks of your  (h/c)  as you overlooked Dihua Marsh from Wangshu Inn's balcony.

In retrospect, the Yaksha should have known better than to meddle in trivial human affairs. You were just another face among thousands he's met. You shouldn't have been able to draw him in the way you did. Yet here he was now, putty in your arms as you stroked gentle circles on the small of his back, whispering words of love and reassurance that Xiao knows he doesn't deserve but soaks it up all the same. 

Perhaps...just maybe - Xiao thinks with a hopeful afterthought as his lips press against yours in a silent act of worship of your presence, fingers ghosting feather light touches onto your skin - maybe he too deserved even a moment of respite, to love and be loved.

To simply exist in bliss. 

Xiao looks at you with a gaze that displays deep unspoken emotion. He watches you in awe even with the simplest of his things.

He watches in awe as you work your way in the kitchen, weaving your way through the space and he fights back a chuckle as you almost trip. He catches you before you could hurt yourself though (he always does).

He watches in awe even when you rouse from your sleep, admiring the way the sun bathes you in a warm glow as it floods into the room from the open window. He admires the way your lashes slowly flutter as you attempt to blink away the sleep that raptures your system, sending him a small smile as you nuzzle further into his embrace, murmuring something about needing a couple more hours of rest. Xiao scoffs at that every time, knowing you'd oversleep (yet he always allows you). 

Mortal traditions don't normally interest Xiao, yet he watches in awe as you walked down the makeshift aisle the inn staff had prepared, donned in fine silk and Qingxin braided in your hair. Xiao thought you've never looked more beautiful, like a goddess that has descended from Celestia itself. It takes him a while to recover from the sight and by then you're already standing next to him with the brightest of smiles, holding his hand and intertwining your fingers. The entire world tuned out of existence and the only thing Xiao could see was you. He doesn't even remember what he said for his vows, too awestruck to even form a coherent sentence as his thoughts reeled a thousand miles per second. Whatever it was he said seemed to make you happy and Xiao allows himself to smile as he slips the ring onto your finger. There weren't many to bear witness to the day you both promised to be one - except perhaps Verr, Huai'an and the traveler who each played a part - but for Xiao it was more than enough to feel the plush of your lips against his under the light of the moon and the stars.

(Zhongli couldn't help but smile at the scene before him but he leaves without another word, receding into the darkness of the night before anyone could take notice.) 

Xiao worried the most throughout your pregnancy and even more so on the day you gave birth. Mortals are far too fragile of a creature and Xiao was hyperaware of this fact as he paced to and fro outside the door, could only hear the way you cry out and the midwife's gentle encouragement as she eases you through the process. There was a moment of silence and Xiao had to fight the urge to burst into the room, thinking that something terrible must have gone wrong until suddenly there was a tiny cry and Xiao's heart seized up in his throat. 

He was allowed inside a moment later and he immediately moves to your side, gently stroking your hair as you smiled up at him tiredly before turning your gaze to the baby swaddled in your arms. 

"Congratulations," the midwife had said, a smile on her face before leaving the room, "it's a healthy baby girl." 

No amount of words could have ever expressed the emotion swirling in Xiao's eyes, both anxiety, joy and excitement clashing within amber speckled orbs but his hand stops in mid-air and all of a sudden time feels as though it was suddenly put to a halt.

Is this truly alright?

He's afraid to reach out, to touch something so pure that a being like him must never hold. The voices in his head scream blasphemy and lies.

Perhaps this was just some dream he's conjured up in the hazy murk of his mind and he'll wake up on the roof of the inn like he's always had with only the frigid wind keeping him company. That's right, maybe this wasn't true at all. He's simply far too gone that he's fabricated an ideal world of his making. One where he lives in peace, where he's loved and accepted. The iron tang of blood suddenly fills the air and all at once he imagines the battles he's fought, the sickening squelch of metal against flesh and the dust and grime of battles waged in war. The screams, the cries, the pain, the agony- 

A small hand wrapping itself around his pinky successfully pulls him out of his trance and the soft giggle and coo that followed after it made Xiao's chest constrict tightly with an emotion he can't seem to place. 

Xiao's breath catches in his throat as the small fist around his finger grounded him back to reality.

For a moment Xiao felt stupid for allowing himself to be consumed by how his mind wandered back into one of the darkest fragments of his memory, how could he when he was in front of the very two things that shone light in his life of perpetual agony? 

The adepti allowed a shaky breath himself a shaky breath at long last, leaning closer so he could rest his head against yours while he allowed his daughter to hold onto his pinky. 

"Can I..." he started, fumbling with his words as he kept his gaze fixated on the infant, "can I hold her?" 

The apprehension in his voice was terribly apparent and in an effort to calm his nerves you gently press a kiss to his cheek, nodding before carefully placing the child in his awkward attempt of a cradle. He quickly adjusts himself with your careful guidance, much more silent than he already usually is as the baby babbled sleepily. You will yourself to stay awake despite the fatigue and discomfort settling in your bones, opting instead to lean back against the headboard as you watch Xiao marvel in the presence of your child. 

"I'll protect you." Xiao says a moment later, voice soft yet filled with determination. 

He turns to face you this time and you swore you saw his eyes glisten with the beginning of tears but you don't get so much of a second chance to look before he rests his forehead against your shoulder, purposely hiding so you won't see the way he breaks and the vulnerability that lies behind the battle-hardened warrior of one of Rex Lapis' strongest Yakshas.

"I'll protect the both of you no matter what the cost." 

You're both terribly precious to me. 

———–

I feel like I idealize relationships with these characters so much because of how touch-starved and affection craved I am but I live for soff Xiao so here. Take this mushy thing I made during class again wwww

I do hope it wasn’t too OOC at least

#Genshin Impact #Genshin Impact Xiao #genshin impact fanfiction #Genshin Impact x Reader #Xiao x Reader #Of Qingxins and Rattles

[crispychrissy]

Connected - Part 5

Summary: Y/N comes to and is met with a familiar face, and new things are found out about her past. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3632 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, sassy reader, fluff, A/N: School is in full swing for me so my frequency of posting is going to slow down, but it won't stop completely, I promise. I already have the next chapter laid out and will start writing it as soon as I get some spare time. :) You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

The surface under your back felt nothing like the thin stained mattress you’d been sleeping on for weeks, and the light coming from the room beyond your closed eyes was way too bright to be the solitary light bulb hanging in the middle of your cell. Cautiously, you took stock of your body and wiggled your toes, fingers, and slightly shifted your arms and legs. There was a blanket over your body, one you’d never been granted during your captivity, and you immediately opened your eyes.

Which was something you immediately regretted. The bright fluorescent lights stung your eyes, making them water before you closed them again. A soft groan escaped your lips, and shuffling next to you made you freeze.

“Y/N?”

The voice was male, and vaguely familiar somehow? Slowly you blinked your eyes open, glaring at the bright light directly above your bed, before turning your head to the left where the voice came from. You were obviously in a hospital room, but the most shocking part of your change of scenery was the presence of Steve Rogers sitting in a plastic chair next to your bed, a kind smile on his lips.

“Can you understand me?” he asked, eyes studying your face.

“Yeah,” you rasped, coughing at the dryness in your throat you hadn’t registered until now.

Steve reached forward and grabbed a cup of water with a straw in it off a rolling table near the end of your bed and brought it to your lips as you managed to sit up. “Slow sips.”

“Yeah, thanks, mom,” you sassed before taking a sip of water. It took a second for what you had said to register, and your eyes widened before you sheepishly looked up at him while taking another drink and swallowing. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, I can handle some sass,” Steve said with a soft laugh. “Do you need more water?”

You shook your head and he placed the cup on the nightstand next to you, within your reach. “What happened? Did the Army send the Avengers to get me out of there?”

Steve frowned, but quickly schooled his expression with a soft shake of his head. “Not quite. What do you remember?”

When you reached for your memories, you hissed and squeezed your eyes closed, reaching up to clutch your head. “I can’t…” All of your memories were jumbled and seemed to be playing all at once, like hundreds of people trying to tell you a story at the same time. The only thing you did notice was a quiet area of stillness off to one side of your mind, the pain pushing you away each time you tried to focus on it. It was unsettling, and you turned to look at the man sitting next to you. “Captain Rogers… what happened? Where am I?”

“You’re in an Army base in Syria, you’re safe here. And please, call me Steve,” he told you with a smile before straightening in his chair. “I know your thoughts may be scattered, but what’s the last thing you remember?”

The throbbing in your head wasn’t as intense the second time around, and you managed to lock onto a memory of walking through a city surrounded by sand, a camera in your hands. It gave you a starting point, and you slowly followed the thread connecting that moment to the next. Steve was patient while you sorted through what you remembered, each knot of events in the thread becoming more difficult to untangle and get past. Almost ten minutes later, you looked up at him, tears blurring your vision.

“I remember taking pictures,” you said quietly, “but then I was… taken. These men thought I was with the Army trying to spy on them, tried to ransom me back. I told them I wasn’t… but they didn’t listen.” You swiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand, brushing the tears away. “They hurt me,” you looked down at the bandages on your arms, “and I kept… saying… something they didn’t like?”

“You did,” Steve confirmed, plucking a tissue from the box on the rolling table and passing it to you. “Do you remember what you said?”

Untangling the knot in this part of the thread took a few moments, and you were getting closer to that dark area, but the words rang loudly in your head and sent ice through your veins. “Oh my god, I said… Cap—er, Steve, I’m so sorry. Is that why you’re here? I don’t know him, I just… they wanted a soldier, so I kept saying the name of the strongest one I could think of.” Your eyes widened and you tried to backtrack. “I mean, I’m not saying you’re not strong or anything, but I was kinda delirious and I memorized his information back when I was in school and it was—”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve interrupted you softly, trying to stifle his smile. “I didn’t take it personally. The Army didn’t find a connection between you and Bucky, and we figured you kept saying his name, rank, and service number like soldiers are trained to do when they’re under duress so you could get through the worst of it.”

You snorted. “After they started really torturing me, yeah, I said it because of that. At first, it was just out of snark to piss them off. They wanted a soldier, so I gave them one of the best I know.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “And I think Bucky will be kinda proud of that.” The color must have drained from your face, and Steve was instantly alert. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Is he here?” you blurted out, unsure if you were ready to know the answer, let alone what answer you’d prefer.

“He is,” Steve said, still alert but more waiting for your reaction rather than responding to your distress.

“Oh,” you whispered, picking at the fabric of the blanket on your lap. “Is… is he mad?”

Steve frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. You knew there had to be more of the story based on his expression, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what else happened. “Why would he be mad?”

“I used his information, his name… he was kidnapped, tortured, and brainwashed by Hydra for decades.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m just a photographer that was at the wrong place at the wrong time and got taken for a few weeks. Not even close to what he went through.”

“Y/N,” Steve said softly, reaching out to gently place his hand over yours, stopping your fidgeting and making you look up at him, “Bucky’s glad he gave you strength when you were in need. There’s just… other things that happened.”

Dread settled over your mind like a frozen blanket. “What? What did I do?”

“Don’t jump ahead of yourself, just think back. What’s the last thing you remember?” Steve asked.

The further you tried to progress on the thread of memories, the closer you got to the dark area, and the harder the knots in the thread became to untangle. The memories were mostly of violence, knives and fists marring your skin narrated by whispered words of Sergeant Barnes’ name. The last knot in the thread before the dark area was an odd memory, and it filled you with a kind of unsettling warmth you’d never experienced before.

“I remember one of the men, he was... digging a knife into my leg, I remember it hurt so bad, felt like it was on fire. He was saying stuff to me, like how he wanted to,” you cleared your throat, “keep me as a pet soldier, like how Hydra had one. I don’t… my whole body felt like I had been electrocuted, everything was tingling and there was this flash of images in my head. Then I felt warm all over, and the last thing I remember before everything went black was grabbing the hilt of the knife where it was sticking out of my leg.” Your eyes widened in horror and you stared at Steve, tears blurring your vision. “What did I do? Please, I need to know.”

Steve scrubbed a hand down his face and sat back in his chair. “I’m not going to lie to you, Y/N. We, or at least some of the smartest people I know, think you may have somehow connected to Bucky… psychically. The trauma of being tortured and held prisoner might have activated a dormant mutant or enhanced ability.”

“What?” you whispered. “I’m… what?” The sheer thought of you having some kind of powers like that was ridiculous, and you had to force yourself to not laugh. “That makes no sense.”

“It took us a bit to figure out, but Dr. Austin thinks that because you were in a desperate situation, your abilities manifested to save your life, and allowed your mind to link to someone you’d been thinking about, regardless of distance.” Steve took a deep breath and exhaled slowly out of his nose. “A lot of the science and technical side of it is way beyond my range of understanding, but basically she thinks that since your power was new and born out of a survival instinct, it didn’t know when or even how to break the link between you and him. Bucky’s consciousness and memories, whether it was due to his own enhanced abilities or his previous trauma being so intense, began to take over your mind.”

“So… Sergeant Barnes… possessed me?” you asked. The explanation sounded plausible, however improbable, but seeing as how there were now space aliens and wizards on Earth, nothing really sounded impossible nowadays. “Is that why I have no memory until I woke up a few minutes ago? How long was I… how long did he have control over me?”

Steve raised his hands to calm you, obviously sensing or maybe even hearing your heartbeat begin to gallop wildly in your chest. “Bucky wasn’t controlling you, Y/N. He didn’t ‘possess you’,” Steve made air quotes with his fingers, “in the way you’re thinking. Your mind was suppressed and his mind was feeding you his memories only. You were experiencing them as if you were Bucky. He wasn’t controlling what you were doing; the similar reactions you had to things he’d experienced were due to those memories and the PTSD that came from them.”

You blinked a few times, your mouth slightly open. Theoretically it made sense, but it felt like Steve was describing some kind of science fiction movie to you, not explaining something that had happened to you. “I’m so confused.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, I was too. It’s a lot to take in. To simplify it and use Bucky’s words, you were essentially trapped in some kind of virtual reality in your mind, living out his past memories, and you couldn’t take off the headset. You have no memory of what occurred after you linked with Bucky because his memories were providing the knowledge you needed… your brain didn’t make its own.”

Even though Steve was doing a good job explaining things, you knew there had to be something he wasn’t telling you; you could always tell when people were dancing around a truth they were avoiding. You looked down at your lap and began to rub the blanket between your fingers again, ignoring how the fabric had begun to pill due to the friction. “Did I kill someone?”

Steve was silent for a few seconds before he heaved a heavy sigh. “Yes. The four men that were holding you captive. Based on how they were killed, we think you used information from Bucky’s memories and training to kill them.”

“I didn’t hurt anyone else, did I?” you asked quietly. While the idea of killing anyone made your stomach clench and sent bile rising in the back of your throat, your captors were far from innocent, and if it made you a bad person to not feel too much sympathy for those men, then so be it.

“No, not that we know of,” Steve said. “According to the Army rescue team that was sent to investigate the store—good thinking with the Morse code, by the way—they found you sitting calmly in the corner of the room you must have been kept in. Bucky seems to think that, if you were going off of his memories and instincts while he was the Winter Soldier, you were likely waiting for a Hydra extraction team. It’s what he would have done after the, uhhh, the targets were eliminated. Lieutenant Weasley, the leader of that Army rescue squad, said the moment he told you the mission was over, you dropped unconscious, just like how Bucky was conditioned to do as well.”

As Steve was talking, you were trying to reach into your mind, trying to pull anything from the dark spaces in your memories. Each time you tried, you were only met with a black canvas where memories should have been, throbbing in your head, and silence… no fragments or flashes of any kind of recollection of the events Steve was explaining. Ignoring the increasing pain behind your eyes, you tried to reach back further, and an odd flash of a memory you didn’t recognize assaulted your mind’s eye.

“Did you...” You stopped abruptly, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to make sense of what you just saw. “Did you used to feed stray cats on the fire escape of an apartment? One of the cats… an orange named Rusty? Named him after—”

“One of the guys that worked with Bucky down at the docks,” Steve finished for you, his voice light with disbelief. “How did you know that?”

You lifted your head and locked watery eyes on Steve. “I… don’t know.” You winced, grabbing your head, the throbbing and sharp pain starting to compound and intensify. “Ah, I can’t—”

“It’s okay,” Steve soothed as he stood up, helping you lie back down before pulling the blanket up to your chest, almost tucking you in. “Get some rest. Don’t hurt yourself trying to remember things, you’ll get there.”

The urge to fight being babied welled up in your body, but the mental strain and resulting exhaustion had finally caught up with you. You made a weak unhappy noise of protest, which Steve chuckled at, before you allowed yourself to drift off into a much more peaceful darkness than the one plaguing your memories.

***

Steve rejoined Bucky, Tony, and Dr. Austin in one of the conference rooms down the hallway from the doctor’s office, and rehashed what little information he’d gathered from his conversation with Y/N. The confusion and gaps in memories they expected, but when Steve mentioned her comment about the stray cat he used to feed, Bucky’s eyes went wide.

“That’s impossible,” Bucky breathed out, shaking his head and trying not to squeeze the life out of the leather chair he had his hands braced against. “That was back in… what, ‘38? A few years after your mom died? You and I were the only people living in that place, Steve. Even my ma didn’t know about those cats.”

“Well, Y/N was able to recall your memories and training in order to kill her captors, it makes sense that she might have seen or absorbed other memories at the same time without knowing.” Dr. Austin leaned her elbow against the conference table and rubbed her forehead. “The mental strain of Sergeant Barnes’ memories on top of these abilities being new to her… she might not know how to separate things, or her memories are jumbled with yours.”

“You said the link was broken, right, doc?” Tony asked, tapping away on one of his Stark tablets, murmuring things to FRIDAY once in a while under his breath. “Buckinator over here isn’t feeding our Sarah Connor any more memories?”

Bucky scowled and he winced when he heard the leather of the chair begin to rip under his metal fingertips. “I wasn’t sent to kill her, asshole,” he grumbled.

Tony looked at Bucky over the top of his tablet and blinked in disbelief. “Barnes got a pop culture reference. Did you all hear that? FRIDAY, make a note in my calendar. I think we need to petition Ellis for a new national holiday.”

“Tony,” Steve sighed, ignoring the subsequent rambling about press releases coming from Tony in favor of looking over at the doctor. “Dr. Austin, they aren’t linked anymore, right?”

“No, I confirmed with brain scans on both Y/N and Sergeant Barnes. Their level of brain activity is back to baseline, or at least, whatever baseline should be for a super soldier and a new psychic.” Dr. Austin pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, staring off in the distance.

Steve had seen this look before in both Tony and Bruce when they were trying to figure out something in their head, or trying to piece together clues, and knew it could last for a while. “Doctor?” Steve prodded her gently.

“Oh,” Dr. Austin said, starting slightly, giving Steve an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I have an acquaintance I may be able to reach out to. Psychic abilities and how to control them are quite out of my wheelhouse, medical studies can only get us so far. I worked with this professor and his team a few times in the past on classified projects when I was freelancing, and he might be able to offer some advice.”

“Anything that could help,” Steve said with a nod, his eyes tracking Dr. Austin as she excused herself from the room, her cell phone already in her hand. Steve looked over at Bucky, seeing the same defeated expression he’d worn on his face for months after he’d broken free of Hydra. “Buck, you gotta quit blaming yourself.”

“Why do people think doing or not doing something in their head is as easy as flipping a damn switch?” Bucky growled angrily, making Steve’s head jerk back at the sudden aggression. Bucky’s face relaxed and he grunted softly, dropping into the chair he was just squeezing. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, I get it,” Steve murmured, “it’s been a long day. How are you feeling anyways?”

“Physically? Fine. The hunger’s gone and I’m not exhausted anymore. Mentally?” Bucky snorted, ducking his chin. “How would you feel if someone accidentally linked minds with you and your brain made them relive you going into the ice over and over again? Or made them relive you getting sick a bunch when you were a kid?”

Steve sat down in the seat next to Bucky and sighed. “I would hate it, but it was an accident, Buck. Nothing you could have done to prevent it.”

“Doesn’t make him any less stupid for running into Y/N’s room alone like that,” Tony said, suddenly standing behind the two men. “You’re lucky I had my suit’s gauntlet wristwatch on me and pulled you back. Touching her could have killed you. Killed you both.”

Bucky knew it was a longshot, and the helplessness he felt knowing Y/N was stuck inside his memories spurred him into action. After being Hydra’s pawn for decades, he made a vow to never feel that helpless again if he could. “Yeah, well, it didn’t. I thought that if she was reliving my memories, then seeing me could snap her out of it. Like… waking her up from a nightmare.”

“Like a glitch in the Matrix. Smart,” Tony said the word like it physically pained him, “I guess.”

“Whether we agree about Bucky’s methods or not, it worked. The Army is going to want to debrief Y/N when she wakes up, but based on what I’ve gathered, she doesn’t have any memories of actually killing her captors. Her recollection ends moments after one of the guys stabbed her in the leg with a knife.”

“Probably the same guy who got the bladed uppercut that was found in the room she was being held in,” Bucky mused, recalling the photos in the file they were given. “Good riddance. Who knows what they would have done to her if she hadn’t killed them.”

The three men sat in silence for several long moments, each going over varying degrees of horrible scenarios which could have played out instead. Dr. Austin’s voice drifted in from the hallway, steadily getting louder as she approached the conference room again, drawing each of their attentions to the doorway.

“... thank you again, Charles. I’ll let you know the next time I’m back in New York,” she said with a smile before lowering her phone and tapping the screen to end the call. Dr. Austin raised a brow at the distressed and pensive looks spread across Tony, Steve, and Bucky’s faces, but decided not to ask.

“Any news from your friend, Doc?” Tony spoke up first.

“Yes,” Dr. Austin replied, tucking her cell phone into her white coat. “He confirmed that Y/N is in fact a mutant, but there’s something else.”

When Dr. Austin didn’t continue immediately, Tony flailed his arms up in the air. “Well? Were you pausing for dramatic effect or something?”

Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and ignored Tony’s outburst. “He was able to do a non-invasive read of her mind.” When all three men opened their mouths at once, Dr. Austin raised her hands, stopping them from whatever protests they were going to make. “Gentlemen, I assure you, the professor is an expert and powerful psychic himself, he knows what he’s doing. He told me that someone has manipulated her memories.”

Bucky blinked. “Well, yeah… isn’t that what happened when she accidentally linked with me? We already know this.”

“No, not recent memories,” Dr. Austin explained. “Her entire childhood has been wiped and rewritten.”

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge @genderfluid-ho

#connected #bucky barnes x reader #marvel series #marvel fanfic #reader insert #part 5 #bucky x reader #mutant!reader #angst #medical stuff

[ladywaifuuwrites]

The Hotel

Pairings: Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem! Reader

Synopsis: Sanemi goes to your peculiar hotel which is for dead people.

Warnings/Tags: Hotel Del Luna! au | blood | verbal torture???

a/n: Major manga spoilers ahead! Picture not mine!

I have been aching to write this for months and finally here it is. I added some elements of the hotel on my own since it’s been so long since I last watched it, so forgive me if there are some differences. This is not drama accurate okay?

I don’t know why but I feel like using “(Y/n)” instead of “You’ here.

The hotel is operating as usual in the night, the main floor is busy accommodating the lost souls. The hotel changes its appearance during the night, growing into a taller building towering among others in the city. People would freak out if they saw a building pop out of nowhere, but normal people can’t see the hotel.

Dead people would.

They would naturally find themselves at the front of the hotel as if it were calling their name. It was indeed calling his name as Sanemi found himself standing in front of it. 

The architecture was different compared to the other buildings in the city. It was majestic and quite ahead of its time, like it was separated from the rest of Japan. He was staring up at the hotel, mouth slightly open because it was his first time seeing something like it. 

Then a cold breeze passed by him and when he looked beside him, his eyes were gonna pop out of its sockets. 

“Hello Shinazugawa-san!” A bloodied demon slayer was beaming at him brightly. The smile on the demon slayer’s face dropped down as if he realized something. “Are you dead too?” The boy asked but Sanemi didn’t answer, so the boy sighed. “I hope Muzan will be defeated soon. I trust our comrades.” He mumbled under his breath.

Sanemi couldn’t speak a single word for he was confused. Dead? Was he dead? Then he remembered the previous events, he was thrown to a building by Muzan’s tendrils. He looked down to the ground and he was indeed dripping with blood but he can’t feel any pain. He faced the young demon slayer. “You go ahead.” He said hesitantly and the boy nodded happily, opening the wide doors of the hotel.

“What is this place?” Sanemi walked in and found himself agape in awe. To his right side, there was the front office with a huge key rack. A weird door stood in front of him, and a bright crystal thing was dangling above him. Everything was so new and beautiful that it filled Sanemi’s empty heart with joy.

He curiously trudged forward, having a staring battle with the weird door. He tried opening it but it was hard as steel. But he still pushed it with all his strength but no luck. 

He sighed as he parted his hair in frustration. Wet trickling sounds came closer to him as he felt a colder breeze. Sanemi’s heart jumped at the sight beside him. A woman who was bloodied and drenched in water pushed the circle button and the doors opened.

The woman entered and Sanemi followed suit. “Thank you” He said quietly but he heard no response. 

What the fuck is this place?

Sanemi could feel that he was moving upwards and he felt quite nauseous. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The moving finally stopped and he heard a “ting!” sound.

When he opened his eyes, he was not prepared to see all of these. It was an even bigger floor than the one earlier. A large shining crystal chandelier hung on the ceiling, big grand staircase at the middle, luxurious looking furnishes, illuminating bright lights and people everywhere. He stepped out of the elevator and circled, taking in the marvelous sight around him. It was like a breath of fresh air, everything was so foreign. So enchanting. 

He finally stopped sighing in awe when two large guys approached him. They grabbed both of his arms and dragged him away. 

“Stop it! You fuckers! Don’t touch me!” He struggled with all of his might but the two large men was far more strong, possessing impossible strength.

He was brought to a tall wooden door adorned with intricate golden details and expensive polished wood. One guy knocked, not letting go of Sanemi. They waited for a few seconds until a feminine voice spoke.

“Come in!” 

They pushed the huge doors and Sanemi was welcomed into an equally large room. The room itself screams luxury. But the woman sitting prettily at the center sofa was even more luxurious and beautiful. 

Sanemi never saw someone as beautiful as her.

“What is this?” 

“A human at the lobby.” The woman’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an “o”. She blinked a few times and stood up. “Leave us” She ordered and the two large men exited.

(Y/n) furrowed her brows and took a closer look at Sanemi. “You’re not dead.” She said in an amused tone with a slight smirk. (Y/n) sat down and poured tea into two cups. 

“Sit down” She ordered and Sanemi sat down opposite her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was an aura in her that was commanding and enticing. Her hair was tied up, stray hairs framing her beautiful face, she was wearing a long beautiful kimono which Sanemi was sure that was made of expensive silk, exposing her collarbones. 

(Y/n) pushed the tea forward to him and gestured for him to drink it and Sanemi bowed before drinking, he seemed to have calmed down. 

“(Y/n) (L/n)” She introduces herself.

“Sanemi Shinazugawa.” He introduces himself which brought a smile to the beautiful woman’s face.

Her eyes went to the blade attached to Sanemi’s hip and you let out a snicker. “There’s an awful lot of you coming here tonight huh?” (Y/n) said in a teasing tone but somehow there was an underlying hint of pity. 

“A troop of demon slayers came in about an hour ago. It’s like I was watching a demon slayer parade.” (Y/n) lightly chuckled, sipped on her tea and continued. “They were confused about being dead, poor kids losing their lives so early.” She says while shaking her head.

“They were the ones who didn’t follow your master’s command. Stubbornness leads to death I suppose.” (Y/n)’s eyes creased as she she keeps on talking to the man in front of her. Sanemi’s eyes widened because how in the world did this woman know that information?

(Y/n) kept talking and Sanemi grew impatient by the second. Anger bubbled in Sanemi because this girl who was living in the lap of luxury was taking his comrade’s deaths so lightly. 

“Listen here.” Sanemi says with a stern voice that made (Y/n) look at him in surprise.

“Those demon slayers fought with their lives to protect civilians like you. Those kids were brave until their last breath so don’t speak shit of them.” Sanemi spat which brought a smile to (Y/n)’s face.

She was about to say something but was interrupted by a knock on her door. (Y/n) said to come in and an old man with smiling eyes laid a folder on her table and left.

“That is the manager of the hotel. He’s the only human here.” (Y/n) said as she looked at the pages inside the folder.

“Hotel? Only human?” Sanemi asked in confusion but (Y/n) didn’t answer because she was focused on what she was reading. It took her for a few minutes to answer and put down the folder, shifting her focus to Sanemi.

She hummed in agreement, legs crossed and hands intertwined. “But apparently there are now two humans in the hotel. One of them is you.” (Y/n) points at Sanemi.

“Listen here.” She playfully mimicked Sanemi and leaned closer to him. “My hotel is called Hotel Del Luna. This is a hotel to accommodate souls before they go to heaven.”

She smacks her glossy lips and Sanemi can’t help but follow her movements which places a little smirk on (Y/n)’s lips. 

“As for your case, I don’t know why the hell you are here when you are not even dead. You are just on the verge of death with all the injuries you’ve been sporting.” She points out his now healed injuries. His clothes were not bloodied anymore too. 

“My room door has a magic beautifier and healer because no filthy being can enter here, but those injuries will come back when you wake up so don’t expect anything.” She continues. “You need to go out of the hotel because you don’t belong here. Besides if you stay here for long, you will really die.” 

(Y/n) stands up and motions Sanemi to follow her. “Let’s go wind hashira.” 

Sanemi’s heart jumps at her calling his title of wind hashira. The way it rolls of her lips is different from when others say it.

They are now outside the hotel and the outside turned into a tunnel. “This wasn’t the entrance before.” Sanemi thinks to himself, his train of thoughts is cut when (Y/n) calls out his name. 

“Go through the tunnel and you will find your way back. Don’t look back or you’ll be stuck here forever as my slave.” (Y/n) says half-playfully and half-serious, but she was mostly serious. 

Sanemi looks at the dark tunnel and back at the hotel owner. “How can I see you again?” Sanemi asks, he really wants to see her again even though it seems quite impossible.

(Y/n) laughs. “Die.” 

She deadpans which erases Sanemi’s hopeful look. But she laughs again which made the air around them lighter. “I don’t want you to see me again.” (Y/n) said in all seriousness and Sanemi could feel his heart become heavy.

“Because I will be the one to see you, I will visit you.” She says while smiling at Sanemi, and the man’s hopes returned, making a soft smile appear on his face. (Y/n) pretends she didn’t want to melt at his smile.

“Oh, don’t worry about your brother. He’s in good hands.” Sanemi smiled when he heard this and tears filled his eyes but he didn’t dare let them to fall. A comforting silence fell upon them until Sanemi spoke.

“Sayonara.” The white haired male said to her and she nodded her head slowly. 

“Sayonara.” She replied to his goodbye.

Sanemi turned around and headed towards the dark tunnel. But before he could be near to the entrance of the tunnel, (Y/n)’s hand tugged at his wrist. Sanemi could feel that her (e/c) eyes were sparkling with hope. 

“Muzan is long overdue, I trust you and the demon slayer corps that this night will be a successful one. I trust that you guys will bring that demon to me.” (Y/n) says with a smile and Sanemi held both of her hands. 

“We will.” 

*Sigh* 

“Don’t tell me this guy is gonna die again?!” (Y/n) stares at Sanemi’s collapsed figure. She crosses her arms while looking at the kakushis who are giving medical aid to the wind hashira. (Y/n) could feel her anxiety starting to grow by the minute because Sanemi won’t open his eyes. 

A moment after she sighs again, Sanemi opens his eyes and (Y/n) let out a breath of relief. She heads over to where Sanemi is laid, hovering above his body. He can’t see her right now because she is on invisible mode. (Y/n) caresses his cheek and Sanemi let out a “Fuck...”  

She chuckled and moved away from them. Then she glanced at the red haired boy with the hanafuda earrings, (Y/n) smiled and silently thanked everyone’s efforts before making her way back to where she belonged. 

BONUS

“Finally, Muzan Kibutsuji! I’ve been waiting for you...” (Y/n) says with a sinister smile, her red polished nails gripping Muzan’s shoulder tight. 

Muzan glares at her in annoyance, his dark locks falling in front of his face. 

“You’re so pathetic that you expected to pass down your legacy don’t you?” (Y/n) pouts in front of Muzan’s face, wanting to see his limits. The demon attempts to move but he just winced in pain.

“Uh oh. Have you forgotten 400 years ago? I tried slaying you but I wasn’t successful, and you tried killing me but you can’t. We’re just going back and forth back then.” (Y/n) laughs thinking of the time where she attempted to slay Muzan.

(Y/n) sighed mockingly. “Sadly, I’m not the one who will punish you. It’s not my job, my job is to make good souls comfortable. And you’re not a good soul. Wait for the mago, vengeful spirit.” (Y/n) winks at Muzan provokingly who’s tied down with a heavy enchanted chain. She walks away and closes the door behind her, leaving the demon in the darkness. 

Finally, everything was in place. 

She can’t wait to visit Sanemi after this!

a/n: (Y/n) got that Tamayo energy. Tamayo mvp. 🥳

#kny #demon slayer #kny headcanons #demon slayer imagines #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #sanemi headcanons

[sakurawarfare]

Amidst the golden blossoms (Lumine x Childe oneshot)

Olah! I'm back~!

First off, thank you so much for all the likes and love that you've given for my first oneshot 🥺

I'm sorry for not posting anything new for almost a month and honestly, writing this one was a real doozy. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy it and again,

Thank you very much and have a nice day!

-Sakura

Exploring Liyue was certainly a challenge. Given how the terrain is a mix of tall mountains, wet marshes and winding paths that go over and under the surface, it was completely different from that of Mondstadt. Though of course, the monsters here were a lot tougher and certainly became a pain in the ass when all she wanted was to explore this new land. 

However, Lumine would always marvel at how everything is so yellow here. In many of the worlds they had visited before, yellow always symbolizes joy and light. In Teyvat, it represented the Geo element, loyal and grounded as it painted the trees, leaves floating in the breeze and the flowers that bloomed almost everywhere she went, resonating with the power of Geo that once lorded over this vast domain.  

Though perhaps, it was the color she was most of as it that reminded her most of her beloved brother.

The girl let out a sigh as the Ruin Guard finally collapsed, fading to blue dust as she continued on her afternoon stroll. Nearing the clearing, she noticed the golden spiral she had discovered just a few days ago. 

She remembered how beautiful it had looked from afar as she first saw it atop the mountain near Guili Plains. It was fascinating to say the least, as she glided down to examine it even further. Unfortunately, she was interrupted by some hilichurls nearby that somewhat soured her mood. Even after that, once she'd activated the elemental monuments, she was ambushed by an Eye of the Storm that she disposed of with some difficulty given that she only had Fischl as her team’s archer. 

Yet at this moment, it seemed that what truly caught her eye was a blot of orange and gray that stood out from the golden landscape.

Deciding to take a closer look, she slowly approached with her footsteps slow and steady. When the figure finally came into focus, she tried to ignore how her heart skipped a beat.

Standing there was no other than Childe, or rather, Tartaglia, the eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui. 

She quietly ducked behind the rock near her, peering out enough just to see. What was he doing here?

Their last encounter had not been so pleasant. After all, she had to defeat him three times and even after that, she had to clean up after him as he decided to summon an ancient god in the midst of a temper tantrum and beat the crap out of countless of his lackeys. 

Looking at him like this seemed weird, listless and silent.  It was certainly different from the Childe she knew, given how she was well aware that underneath that boyish, annoyingly handsome exterior lay the fearsome spirit of a bloodthirsty warrior. 

He was still staring up at the sky when she heard him speak. "Like what you see, ojou-chan?" Her eyes widened, somewhat startled. "You could take a picture you know, that way it'll last longer."

She clicked her tongue. There was no point in hiding anymore. She got up from her spot and strode near him seeing as he stood in the center of the spiral. 

“So what brings you here?” he said with his usual, playful tone, a major difference from when he spoke during their final battle in the Golden House. His eyes were focused on her now, a smirk adorning his face.

“ I could ask you the same thing,” she huffed. She reminded herself to be on guard, after all this is the very same man who threatened to wipe out dozens of innocent people with zero hesitation. 

He chuckled in reply. “Staying inside a stuffy bank the whole day just isn’t my style, you know?” He placed an arm on his hip and she noticed how the action made his top rise a little bit, giving her a peek of his well-toned abs. 

He was a bloodthirsty warrior, yes, but an attractive one nonetheless.  

He continued, “Plus, it’s amazing to see how different Liyue is from Snezhnaya.”

That statement certainly piqued her interest as she asked him with genuine curiosity. She was a traveller at heart after all. “Really? How so?”

Childe looked at her, somewhat surprised. She tilted her head a bit, somewhat bemused by his reaction until she realized the absence of caution in her words. “Shoot,” Lumine thought. “I-I mean-”

“ You know that there’s no harm in me telling you about my homeland, right?” he turned to her, crossing his arms. 

She took a step back, “You can’t exactly blame me for not trusting you after you threw a whale at me. Twice.” 

The girl was surprised to see him frown, eyes lowering a bit narrowing slightly.

Since when was he so emotional? Lumine thought this is definitely a big contrast to the Childe, or rather, Tartaglia, she was familiar with. 

Although, she can’t deny that a part of her wanted to say sorry. It certainly wasn’t nice of her to treat him so coldy, especially now when he seemed to resemble the look of a kicked puppy. Sad but oddly cute. She immediately stopped her train of thought. She shouldn’t think that this man could be in any way adorable. 

He sighed. “Then how about a spar? If you win, I’ll tell you all about Snezhnaya,” she noticed how his eyes gleamed at , “but if I win, you’ll share stories about your place.”

She blinked. “ I don’t see how this benefits you at all.” Given her time with Zhongli, she knows that there should be more to their deal than just stories.

He simply shrugged. “I mean I do get a good fight out of it and honestly, I’d really want to get to know more about you, ojou-chan.” There it was again, that impish, boyish smile that made her heart flutter slightly. 

She put a hand to her chin, a vain attempt to hide the growing warmth on her cheeks.  Although some part of her told her she certainly shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy, there was no harm in a little sparring session. After all, she had beaten him before and this also seemed like a good chance to know more about the Tsaritsa too, if she could figure out a way to worm it out of him. 

She wouldn’t dare to acknowledge how her heart did a little dance at the thought of getting to know more about him though. 

She gazed at him, the small smile from earlier returning. “Fine, we have a deal.”

That seemed to have cheered him up as he quickly ran to one side of the spiral with her following suit and taking her place on the opposite end. 

Even as the sun began to dip in the horizon, she could see glimmer in his eyes, blue orbs glowing in the faint sunlight. There seemed to be no trace of his gloomy disposition earlier, and she could almost imagine him with a tail that swung back and forth, much like how a puppy would greet its owner.

She shook her head. She really should stop with the dog similes.

She was immediately brought back to the present when an arrow whizzed past her, the sound ringing in her ear. She tried to mask her surprise with a straight face, eyebrow raised as she summoned her sword.

“Hey, eyes on me ojou-chan,” she didn’t miss how his voice sounded deeper, huskier, almost like a low growl. Pushing that thought away, she rolled sideways to dodge the incoming arrows then lunged, quickly closing the distance between them.

She wasn’t surprised to hear the sound of metal and water clashing, as she tried to push against him. She was forced to jump back when he switched to a spear, slicing a wide arc in front of him.

He continued his offense, switching again to his blades this time. He gave her blow after blow, leaving little room for her to maneuver in. She parried his every thrust with her own strikes, matching his speed and power. Lumine scanned his movements, eyes calculating for an opening.

Just as she expected, he became more apparently irritated with her sticking to defense.

“Come on, it isn’t fun when-” Lumine quickly cut him off, releasing the Anemo energy she had secretly been building up with her other hand in front of her, making him stumble slightly as she pressed on with her own barrage of attacks.

Even as he stepped away, she made sure that the last swing contained a small gust of wind that managed to graze his cheek. As he caught his breath, she tried to mimic his own cocky smirk. “Eyes on me, Childe.”

She had meant to mock him for earlier but instead she heard him laugh, a sweet, melodious sound that resonated within her. A voice in her head kept reminding her to stay on guard, that she should take the first chance to strike back.

But seeing him like this, eyes filled with so much light and a wide smile adorning his handsome features, filled her with a sense of satisfaction that tugged at her heartstrings. 

“Ojou-chan," his laughter slowly calming, "you are simply adorable."

Lumine felt her cheeks flush as the grip on her sword tightened. "H-hey!"

"Alright, alright." His laughter finally died down as she saw him return to his former stance, his predatory gaze set on her once more yet the smile never left his lips. "Let's have some fun."

~

Their battle lasted until the moon had settled in the sky, bathing the land in its iridescent glow.

A strike here, a hit there, the two exchanged blows with no hesitation. The young warriors fought amidst the golden flowers, filling the air with the sounds of their blades clashing as the yellow petals glided along with them.

Time was lost to the two as they continued in their own world, a dance that only they knew as they kept up with each other's paces, making sure to keep the other on their toes. 

But as always, Lumine was once more the victor, her blade pressed closely to the Harbinger's nape, successfully trapping him underneath her.

He was panting quite loudly, his chest rising steadily against her own. "Fine, you win." He let his blades melt away, hands raised in defeat. 

Lumine smirked at his surrender as she could finally focus on steadying her own breath, willing her sword away as she huffed. 

"Though I've gotta say," his eyes peeked downward then back to her, "I didn't expect that you'd want to go for another round."

She raised an eyebrow in reply, continuing to stare at him in confusion. That is until she glimpsed in the same direction, finally noticing how her legs were straddling his hips as she sat on top of his stomach, the heat emanating from his body seeping into her.

"Ah!" She immediately scrambled to get off of him, trying desperately to mask the crimson that bloomed on her cheeks by sitting a few meters away. Though some part of her missed his warmth, the rational part of her brain shoved that way back inside the depths of her thoughts.

Lumine noticed from the corner of her eye that he was gazing up at the sky. Feeling her blush slowly dissipate, she moved a little closer.

"So, what do you want to know first?" He was lying down now, his blue eyes shining underneath the moonlight.

She laid down next to him, her back slightly tickled by the blades of grass underneath her as they both stared up at the sky in silence.

"Can you tell me about your favorite places there?" She faced him, trying to mask the enthusiasm in her voice.

"From what I can remember…" he muttered, "We had this huge marketplace in the center of the city where my father would always take me and my siblings to buy all sorts of trinkets and goodies for mother. Afterwards he'd take us to an old bakery that also sold Sharlotka."

"What's that?"

"It's this really fluffy cake with apples that melts in your mouyh while you eat it. The apples give it a tart, fruity taste that also balances the sugar dusting on top." He sighed. "Man, I should really make some sometime."

"Hmm, where else...Oh, we also used to go to this frozen lake just a few minutes from our house where my father taught me how to ice-fish." He smiled at the thought. "My old man would make a competition of who got the biggest fish, and he'd always say these really corny jokes just to make me laugh when I had a bad day."

"Those were definetly simpler times." He looked wistful as he spoke.

Noticing how his mood lowered, Lumine spoke in a teasing tone, "you sound just like Daddy's little boy.

He was quick to return her taunt.  "On the contrary, I'm actually a proud Mama's boy," he smirked, "where do you think I got my passion for cooking?"

"Oh?" Playing along, she rolled her eyes. "So you're saying that your cooking tastes better than mine?"

"Girlie, I'm not saying. I know that I'd wipe the floor with just my own version of a Sweet Madame."

"I'd like to see you try, water boy." She laughed.

Their playful banter died down as they continued to watch the starry sky, the two basking in comfortable silence.

Childe was the first to speak. "Perhaps when you get there, you'd need someone who could show you around the city, maybe a few spots outside it too."

She smiled. "That does sound nice." 

There it was. An unspoken promise that they would make plans to spend time with each other, not as Tartaglia and the Traveller, but as….friends? 

She huffed slightly, friends was one way to put it. She was supposed to be wary of him, push him away and strike him down when the chance presented itself. He was a bad guy after all.

Yet somewhere in her heart knew that there was more to this man than his thirst for battle and his honey-sweet tongue. 

"Lumine?"

"Hm?" Turning to face him once more, her eyes widen slightly at the foreign sight before her. For the first time ever, Childe's eyes looked unsure, perhaps even a little shy.

"Thank you for tonight." Never would she imagine that she would hear those words from him. 

"What for?" 

"It's been a while since I've shared something that wasn't work related…" he grinned, though she noticed it didn't reach his eyes this time, "I don't exactly have anyone to talk to about these things."

It finally dawned on her as she continued to stare at him, astounded at his confession. He was a lone soldier facing the world with nothing but his own strength to rely on. He was fierce and merciless, a force to be reckoned with.

Yet the Childe that she was talking to right now was the complete opposite. He was lonely. Vulnerable.

 Lumine tried to speak, but she couldn't think of the right words to say. Instead, she reached out a hand to cup his cheek, breaking him from his stupor.

This was too risky. Too bold of a move that broke all the rules she had followed this whole time. Aether would warn her not to get attached for a traveller will never linger in one place for too long.

However, here she was stuck in an unknown world, comforting one of the most dangerous people in all of Teyvat.

"Well," she whispered, "you have me."

She expected him to laugh, to scoff at her and remind her that they were on opposite sides of a war. She thought he would pull away, and turn around to leave her there.

To her surprise, he squeezed her hand in his, relishing the warmth of her palm as he gazed at her with...Was that fondness? Were her eyes playing tricks on her or was his face turning pink too?

She squirmed underneath his stare. Why was she feeling so weird tonight?

Lumine couldn't stop a yawn from escaping her lips as she tried to fight off the wave of exhaustion that overcame her. Her whole body ached from their little skirmish earlier, on top of that she still couldn't make sense of all the emotions that swirled inside her head. 

"Hey, stay with me." 

Even though her mind screamed at her to move, her body struggled to do anything in her tired state. Her eyes were becoming heavier by the second as she struggled to stay awake. It didn't help that his voice sounded so calming, echoing in her ears until she was lulled to sleep.

~

Lumine opened her eyes as light illuminated her cozy room. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, confused as to how she ended up here.

She wondered why she felt warmer than usual when a red cloth fell from her neck. She pulled it away, finally recognizing it as the scarf that Childe always wore.

He had brought her here. He actually went out of his way to make sure that she was safe despite how late it was. The thought warmed her heart a little more than she would have liked but she welcomed it all the same.

The girl looked around, wondering just where her flying companion was, cheeks warming as she took in the scent of his scarf. 

It reminded her of an ocean breeze, salty and strong, with a hint of lemon as well. Wild and full of energy, just like him.

She shook her head out of her thoughts. It was too early for her to be so sappy.

Though try as she might, she couldn't seem to wipe off the wide smile on her face as she looked forward to the day ahead of her.

#genshin childe #genshin impact #chilumi #genshin impact lumine #fluff #fanfiction

[abyss-in-machines]

The First Move, Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

AO3

She woke up groggy, a mildly thumping headache relentlessly bothering her. Stirring, she slowly unwraps the blankets around her, stopping to wonder in amusement at how carefully they were spread around her. All her memories from yesterday night remained fuzzy, but she still remembered very distinctly just how comfortably and snugly she slept under the blankets. Seita must’ve really taken the time to wrap them around her, probably following Hinowa’s guidance. Tsukuyo finally sits upright, hands on the futon for support, looking around. Her room’s orientation definitely looked… different than usual. She definitely didn’t remember keeping a vast stack of what looked like manga volumes propped up in her room’s corner… maybe she’s seeing things. Hangovers can still be a pain, mentally and physically. Nothing a morning bath and a good smoke after breakfast can’t patch up quick, she murmurs to herself.

I know today’s the start of the weekend, but I just can’t skip work. God, Hinowa...

Parched, she searched around the futon sides, and to her amazement found a flask of water and a small bag with aspirin kept beside the futon. She reaches out immediately, gulping down the water with gusto, and taking an aspirin soon after. Feeling much better, she takes the time to look around. Tsukuyo finally realises the room itself was dimly lit, kept as to make sure to reduce any sunlight coming into the room as much as possible. She shakes her head, finally standing up and slowly walking towards the door. Opening it, she covers her eyes from the light flooding in, walking into what looked like the living room, with two sofas facing each other and a table between, and a desk close to the window. Dazed, she looked around, wondering where the bathroom could be.

“Take a right and go straight, the bathroom's gonna be to your left, close to the entrance doors.” A familiar deep voice spoke. “I got you a toothbrush, so no need to worry about borrowing mine.”

“Ah, thank you, Gintoki,” she mutters back, heading into the direction pointed out slowly. Realization hits like a bucket of cold water seconds later, and she turns around sharply, facing the man who had spoken. “GINTOKI?!?”

There was no mistaking the fish eyed, dead faced samurai. Leaning on the wall, Gintoki looked back, smirking.

“Morning, shinigami-tayuu.”

-

A good twenty minutes later, after Tsukuyo had gotten over the initial shock and freshened up, they sat close together at the table, with Gintoki having finished laying out the breakfast.

“Fried eggs and rice? Quite fancy of you,” she remarks, digging in.

“Be glad it’s me making the breakfast, not Kagura. She’d just put raw eggs on top and call it a day…”

“I’m thinking you must’ve egged her onto that one…”

“Clever pun, but no,” Gintoki shrugs, waving her off as she giggles. “I kid you not, Kagura’s had wack tastes since the beginning. Comes from having a dunderhead of a brother and an even bigger moron of a father.”

“You really don’t mince words, do you?”

“Really though, they deserve it.”

“Sounds like you’ve had personal experience dealing with it.”

“Ugh, trust me. You don’t wanna know.”

“When was the last time you’ve seen them?” Tsukuyo inquires, curious.

Gintoki takes a small bite of the rice, chewing thoroughly before settling in. “It’s been a while. I know the brother comes by occasionally. He says it's to check on his sister, but we all damn well know that he comes here for the battles.”

“With Okita-kun?”

“Nah,” Gintoki shakes his head. “The Chief Of Police. Seems like he’s taken a liking to her. Says she’s far more aggressive and relentless than Sofa-kun. Now, I’m thinking which way does he mean...”, a kunai hits him squarely in the forehead, startling him. “Oh, c’mon honey…”

“You know why you had that one coming,” she chuckles, and Gintoki leans on the tabletop, groaning out loud. “Say, where are the kids? Didn’t see Kagura around…”

“Well,” Gintoki sighs, straightening up. “It’s not one in the afternoon yet, so she’s definitely still sleeping. I told Shinpachi to take the day off, cause we finished all the requests due over the week, and we don’t accept any requests during the weekend.”

“Yorozuya’s that busy these days, huh,” Tsukuyo marvels, and Gintoki nods in agreement.

“Surprised me too. Since the return, and me settling what was left of the Naraku, the Yorozuya really took off as a local brand name. Beats me how…”

Tsukuyo smiled. The man really was blind to the impact of his own work on the Kabuki district. To say that the residents of Kabuki loved Sakata Gintoki is an understatement. Gintoki is, and always was, a local celebrity. Despite the man’s temperament, Gintoki somehow always had this innate ability to get the people around him to notice, to want to get to know him better. He was someones’ drinking buddy, another’s rival, someone’s friend to turn to. Gintoki is always there to lend a helping hand, even if he offers in that classic tsundere technique of his.

“Anyway, honey,” Gintoki starts, snapping Tsukuyo out of her thoughts. “I gotta say, I usually don’t have mornings this calm and, dare I say, fun. Usually my mornings are pretty loud, thanks to the kids...”

Tsukuyo snorts. “You calling high noon ‘morning’ is a new one. Although, I must admit, I quite enjoyed the brunch. We should probably do this more, darling.” She smirks, noticing him looking away blushing.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, then suddenly perks up. “Granted, we were only able to enjoy this cause I’m still alive from yesterday…” he shudders, alarming Tsukuyo.

“I couldn’t have been that bad yesterday, right…” she asks shakily, as Gintoki flashes her a deadpan, sarcastic look.

“You wish, honey.” Quickly noticing the panicked expression on her face, he sighed, waving. “I was exaggerating, honey. It wasn’t that bad, but it was… quite eventful. You wouldn’t let me go and kept clinging onto me whilst draining Baba's expensive sake to the last drop. Definitely scared the old hag out of her wits for once. I somehow calmed you down and took you upstairs, and put you to bed, where you slept like a child. Explained everything to Baba later, she understood.”

“I’ll go down and apologize immediately,” Tsukuyo exclaims, getting up, but Gintoki caught her hand, motioning her to sit down.

“Calm down, Tsukki, it’s alright,” he soothes, gently caressing her hand, and Tsukuyo looks at him in wonder with disbelieving eyes. How’d the silver buffoon turn so mature all of a sudden? “Told ya I explained it to her. If you really want to-”

“Of course I do!” “Then we’ll go down there together. How about that,” he replies back, smiling, and Tsukuyo’s heart glows even more. What has this man done to her? Better yet, what had happened to him? “Eat up, I’ll take care of the dishes, gotta wake Kagura up for breakf-uh, I mean, brunch.” He winks at her, getting up and grabbing the dishes. Tsukuyo pouts.

“You know, I still have to get to work,” she exclaims, digging into her meal.

“Way ahead of you, already called up Hinowa, she’s got you covered,” he shouts back, smiling at the groan that followed.

Learn to take a break, you damn workaholic…

-

Tsukki, you work too damn hard…

That was the only thing on Gintoki’s mind as he saw her come back from making some small rounds around town. Of course, she still came all the way back, despite his and Hinowa’s insistence. Tsukuyo disregarded their suggestions, stressing that the rookies in the Hyakka still needed her guidance. True to her word, she had hastily finished brunch, took Gintoki with her downstairs to Otose’s bar, where she apologized profusely for about half an hour, and then finally dragged Gintoki to Yoshiwara. Hinowa was surprised to see the both of them at the doorstep, and Gintoki kept pouting until she finally promised that she’d be back in an hour to enjoy the rest of the day. And again, always being true to her word, she showed up back in an hour, right on time. Even if Gintoki sometimes felt that the drunk terminator was being way too sincere for the new recruits, he understood her plight all too well, along with the burden she was carrying.

“Was she really always like this, Hinowa,” he groans aloud, as he sits close to the porch, peeling off orange skins, waiting on Tsukuyo to finish her bath. Hinowa remained close by, merely smiling at Gintoki’s pouting and nodding back. Gintoki sighs, leaning against the wall.

“How was she like back then, Hinowa?” he asks, wondering aloud.

“Much of the same, Gin-san, except much more serious, I’d say. Dedicated to her work. Tirelessly working to ensure the safety of the courtesans and the citizens of Yoshiwara,” Hinowa sighs, a slight frown forming on her face, which Gintoki is quick to notice. Moments later, however, Hinowa speaks again.

“Gin-san, I’ll be honest,” Hinowa starts. “Seeing Tsukuyo like this has really made me feel happier than I’ve ever felt. All this time, Tsukuyo had been hell bent on dedicating herself to the lifelong mission to protect Yoshiwara. Even with the liberation from Hosen’s rule, and the fiasco that followed after the return of Jiraiya, she had been going on and on, the same routine and the unyielding effort.”

“There are times where I’ve genuinely wondered whether Tsukuyo would ever get to live her life. There’s only so much one can do once they throw themselves into their work. As someone who had been there by her side so long, I’ve worried so much about her. You see, Gin-san, all I ever wanted for her was to live happily.”

Hinowa looks at Gintoki, wearing a small sad smile. “I am glad that you’ve become such an important part of her life now, Gin-san. Trust me when I say it means the world to her to get to spend time with you like this. I’ve never seen her so happy, so content with life. The Tsukuyo that I knew from so long ago would never have been able to dream of a time where she’d get to spend time with me and Seita so long, and get to enjoy a serious, fulfilling relationship with the love of her life. It’s beyond a courtesan’s wildest dreams, a delirious illusion at the most. And yet you broke through all of reality’s hurdles like it was nothing, and granted her something far greater than what dreams would have promised.”

Gintoki silently listens, taking in everything that Hinowa just said. Straightening up, he kneels in front of her, head bowed.

“I will do everything in my power to protect that happiness, Hinowa,” Gintoki solemnly states. “She means the world to me, she truly does. I never expected to find my own happiness in this world for a long time, but being with her made me realise that maybe I did have a chance at finding that happiness. Even if it was all just to be by her side, I would’ve happily obliged, but she allowed me to be a part of her world, and I will never take that for granted.”

“I will never take her for granted,” Gintoki utters, bowing down. He lifts his head up to see tears flowing down Hinowa’s cheeks.

“I know you won’t, Gin-san. I know you won't.”

-

After talking to Hinowa for some time more, and eating up some of the orange slices he had carefully peeled out, Gintoki heads for Tsukuyo’s room, wondering what was taking her so long. He didn’t need to wonder for long. After knocking on her door for a while, he finally slides the door open carefully, just to see Tsukuyo lying down on the futon, deep in sleep. She jolts up quickly at the noise, despite his cautiousness.

“Oh, Gintoki…,” she starts, slowly propping herself upright as Gintoki walks up to her. “So sorry, felt like I’d take a little nap before I’d join you and Hinowa downstairs… seems like I dozed off…”

Gintoki snorts, as he sits by her side. “Figured you would. Just in case, I got you a glass of water along with oranges. You better eat the orange slices, Gin-san worked too hard to ensure they were peeled to perfection, you know.”

“For God’s sake, Gintoki, they’re just orange slices,” Tsukuyo laughs, as she reaches out for a piece, but Gintoki’s ahead of her already, grabbing a slice and bringing it close to her mouth.

“Say ‘aah’, sleepyhead,” he teases. Tsukuyo can’t help but giggle.

“Fine, you win, Gintoki,” she replies, as accepts his helping hand. “For some reason, I’m feeling extra sleepy today. Your laziness is finally rubbing off on me, I see.”

“Point one for Gin-san on the board,” Gintoki announces, and Tsukuyo responds by throwing a pillow. “Woah, no kunais?” he asks, and he's suddenly whisked close to her, as she plants a quick, passionate kiss on his cheek.

“Not today,” she states happily, grinning at the blushing samurai.

-

Work was tougher than usual today...

Tsukuyo made her way through the roads in the Kabuki district to Otose’s bar. She’d just wrapped up Hyakka business for the week, and had planned to visit the silver-haired samurai once she was done. On the way, however, Tsukuyo feels uneasy. Her body was sweating profusely despite the cool evening weather, and her muscles seemed to ache even more than usual after the work. Normally, Tsukuyo would chalk it up to the usual overtime grind taking a toll on the body, but Tsukuyo knew perfectly well that today was just an ordinary day at the office, nothing more. There was no reason why she’d feel this bad…

Deep in her thoughts, Tsukuyo notices the bar coming into view, and walks on. She had barely taken ten steps in the direction of the bar when she’s suddenly hit with a disarming headache. Barely keeping sight as she bears the dizziness, she slowly trudges on, approaching the bar outskirts, where she notices the android maid with the shining green hair.

“Tama… chan…” Tsukuyo stutters, as she gives into the exhaustion, collapsing to the ground.

#gintsu #tsukuyo gintama #sakata gintoki #gintama #gintoki x tsukuyo #romcom #fanfic #gintama fanfiction

[flowercrown-bard]

Poems for the Poet (2/ 5)

pairing: Eskel/Jaskier

word count: ~2k

read on AO3

previous   /  next

Content warning: self-deprecation, people treating witchers badly, self-loathing, panic attack, insecurity

Mutant, witcher, monster!

No one dared to spit those insults at Eskel openly – not yet. For now, the people of the town contented themselves with shooting him dirty looks, whispering behind his back and turning away when they caught sight of his face.

It was only a matter of time before the whispers would turn into shouts when fear became cruelty.

He had seen it happen often enough to know it was inevitable.

And yet, he had hoped that just this once it could be different. It had been different, when he had met Jaskier. It could be different again.

But these people weren’t Jaskier. They would rather claw Eskel’s eyes out than let him see their smiles or bite off their tongues before they let themselves utter a single kind word to him.

So Eskel kept his head low as he walked through the cobblestone street towards the inn, hoping they would tolerate him, at least for one night, if he didn’t attract too much attention. He ignored the whispers, the stares, the stench of disdain.

He barely flinched when something it him on the shoulder. He had known that sooner or later, stones would fly. He just had hoped it wouldn’t happen that soon.

With a sigh, he hunched his shoulders and ducked his head, making himself seem smaller, like less of a threat as he threw a glance over his shoulder to see if any more stones would be hurled his way.

What he saw instead, made him falter. What had hit him wasn’t a stone. It was a ball wrapped in leather, not dissimilar to the one he used to play with as a child before he had been brought to a place where boys learned how to fight and kill instead of playing.

Eskel crouched down to pick up the ball and take a closer look, but before he could stand back up again, he saw, or rather heard, the one who had thrown it at him.

“You found my ball!” The excited voice of a little girl cut through the disapproving murmurs of the adults like the sun pushing his way through clouds during a thunder storm. “I’m sorry for hitting you, mister.”

“Don’t worry,” Eskel said as softly as he could. “No harm done.”

He held out the toy for the girl who took it with a toothy grin.

“Thank you!”

Something warm and soft spread through Eskel’s chest. It had been too long since anyone had smiled at him, longer yet since he had spoken to a child that wasn’t destined for the cruelty of the trials.

Eskel couldn’t stop himself. For just a moment he forgot himself, too distracted by that soft glimmer of happiness in his chest. One moment of carelessness was all it took.

His lips twitched into a smile.

A snarl. A grimace. A twisting of his face into something hideous and fearsome.

The reaction was almost immediate. The girl blanched and reeled back, before she could even touch the ball.

“You’re the bad man!” She cried. If there had been any passers-by that hadn’t stared at Eskel before, they were now all fixing him with suspicious glares.

Eskel swallowed against the rapidly forming lump in his throat and dropped his smile. Perhaps that had been a mistake too. It was unnatural for people to be able to lose their smiles that quickly. It was inhuman.

“I’m not,” Eskel said soothingly. “I am not going to hurt you.”

“My ma told me that you’re bad!” The girl accused and pointed a finger at him before taking it back quickly and holding her hand against her chest in the same way people protected their hands when they were afraid a feral dog would bite them. “She said to stay away from the man with the ugly scars. She said you will take me away and eat me.”

Eskel flinched.

“I’m not –“

“I think it would be better if you left,” a low voice interrupted him.

When Eskel looked up from where he was still crouched, he saw three men walking towards him with stormy expressions.

Slowly, so as not to startle them, he put the ball to the ground and gave it a small nudge to roll towards the girl. She jumped back as if her toy was suddenly dangerous.

The men’s frowns deepened. Eskel held up his now empty palms in surrender as he stood back up ever so slowly.

One of the man took a threatening step towards him, his fists already raised and Eskel all but fled.

He tried not to listen to the angry and boasting shouts that followed him. It was in vain.

No matter how much he pretended, he wasn’t like his brothers. Geralt might be able to go on after Blaviken, saying that he didn’t need anyone and Lambert might be able to counter every insult with an even more cutting one of his own, but Eskel wasn’t like them. He was desperate and foolish and still clinging to the hope that he could be someone who wouldn’t be scorned and detested.

Another could-have-been. One that gnawed at him like a stray dog gnawed on a bone, tearing off the small bits and pieces that could still be something wanted.

Eskel had no delusions about how the rest of the day would go. He would find no place to sleep here, no hot meal and no contract that would be paid for. The longer he stayed, the bigger got the chances of pitchforks and kitchen knives being directed at him.

But his legs were so tired. It had been too long since he had eaten a healthy amount and ever since he had to give Scorpion away, he wasn’t able to carry his tent with him anymore.

He just wanted to rest. He just wanted to lay down for a while, knowing that he wouldn’t wake to a mob.

But the chances were slim. The best he could do was hide away in a dark alley to rest, hoping that no one would stumble upon him there.

He let himself lean back against the wall of a house, sliding down until he sat on the dirty floor. What more was some dirt, when his shirt already had holes in it? No one would bother to notice anyway, not when they had his face to stare at in fear.

His insides clenched and not purely because of the memory of the child’s laughter turning into cries at his sight.

He was hungry. So painfully hungry.

His jaw twitched as he rummaged through his bag for something edible, knowing full well that there was nothing to find.

Instead, his fingers found something else. Something, he had bought on a whim and quickly shoved to the bottom of his bag. Something he hadn’t been able to get rid of, even as it meant losing precious space in his bags.

Carefully, so as not to tear it, he pulled out the cheap paper, quill and inkwell he had bought months ago. For a long moment he only stared at them, overcome with the painful urge to smash the inkwell against the wall.

He wasn’t a poet, never would be. He was ugly and frightening and no one could even look at him without seeing all the things he couldn’t be written plainly across his face.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The memory of blue eyes flashed before him. Memories, of a blissful couple of days when it had seemed that maybe he could have, could be, something more. Jaskier had listened to what he had to say about poetry, as if his opinion was no less important than that of any scholar. He had explained the intricacies of word choice to him as if Eskel was worth talking to. As if he wasn’t too oafish, too big and too far removed from everything he could have become.

What had Jaskier told him back then? That poetry was a means to give meaning. That by creating something out of your pain, you refused to let it have power over you.

It wouldn’t work. Eskel knew that. No amount of words could ever distract from the life he hadn’t chosen. But perhaps…perhaps Eskel could make something beautiful.

It was a foolish thought, a desperate dream, but one that lodged itself into his heart, refusing to budge.

Eskel didn’t know how to write beautiful words and craft them into something more. All his knowledge about poetry came from the little he had gathered from reading the old poems. It wasn’t enough.

But it was all he had.

Before he could stop himself, he dipped the tip of the quill into the ink and put it on the paper. He hesitated, watched as the ink flew onto the paper like blood dripping off a sword and created ugly splotches.

Immediately, Eskel pulled the quill off the paper again.

He stared at that spot, that blemish, that failure.

The walls seemed to close in on him, suffocating him, crushing him. Though the sun was still up in the sky, his vision became darker, splotchy. Like the ink on the paper. Like bloodstains on his clothes.

He wasn’t good enough. This wouldn’t work. He hadn’t even written a single word yet and already he had ruined this.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of voices, of doubts, of knowing he would fail.

It was no use. His heart sped up and he felt his breathing becoming shallow. He should be able to control this. A witcher shouldn’t let himself succumb to his own mind.

But Eskel couldn’t do it. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t let his mind drift off for mediation, couldn’t fucking breathe.

With the strength of a hundred men, Eskel managed to scrap together some semblance of calm, just long enough for his mind to stop spiralling for a second and to latch on to one thing only.

Poetry.

Eskel clung to it with all his might, forcing himself to think of lines and verses he had memorised until his mouth moved and formed the words. They were barely more than a whisper, but Eskel had spoken them before, time and time again. His body knew the correct intonation, the right way to inhale enough to have his breath last for the entirety of a line.

The words fell from his lips in a soothing rhythm, the familiarity of them battling against the fear and the strain to remember the lines left no room for any other, unkind, thoughts.

It was only when Eskel’s heart had slowed down enough that the sound of its beating didn’t drown out his whispers, that Eskel realised whose poetry he was reciting.

It was Jaskier’s.

Lines about eyes flashing bright like lightning, comparable to a force of nature that disappeared before one had time to marvel at it but leaving a mark in the life of whoever had gotten the chance to see it.

Lightning. That’s what Jaskier described Eskel as and it was the first word that Eskel put down on the paper once his hands had stopped shaking too badly.

He looked at the word for a long time. It felt strangely right. Like it belonged there. Like Eskel had been meant to put it – a part of himself – out there.

His throat bobbed and his brows twitched at the thought, but before he had time to doubt himself any more, he let the quill scratch over the paper once more, leaving words in its wake. A mixture of Jaskier’s words and the rhythm of the ancient elves.

Lightning across lips cuts bright.

A lowly flash, no more. Leaving flesh forever sore.

Scorching like flame. Scowling for fright.

Marring a mangled man, mutilating a mutant more.

Eskel stared at the words. The poem wasn’t long nor was it particularly good. But it was Eskel’s. Eskel had written something, gave meaning to the meaningless with his quill.

His eyes darted to the splotch at the bottom of the paper, right where the last line ended. Another imperfection.

His brows knitted together and his hand moved again.

It might have been childish - Lambert would have definitely made fun of him for it -  but as Eskel drew legs, a head and horns onto the blemish, he found himself almost smiling again.

The almost-smile stayed on his lips, even as he forced himself to stand up once more, carefully putting his writing tools back where they belonged. The paper with his poem he kept in his hand.

He should have just left right away, trying to go unnoticed. That had been his plan as he moved through the alleyways now, but when he passed the notice board at the corner of one street, he paused, staring. A thought formed in his mind, before he even understood why he had stopped.

He didn’t know what possessed him to do it. Perhaps a glimmer of bravery or folly. Perhaps a hint of the man he had wanted to became shone through for a split second.

A man who was loved. A man who made beautiful things and didn’t have to hide away in shame what he had created.

And Eskel had created. He had written a poem. He had become, even if only for one moment, what he had always dreamed he could be one day.

With one swift motion, Eskel pinned his poem to the notice board. Not somewhere half-hidden between notes about nosy neighbours or the price of eggs, but right in the middle where anyone who passed by would be able to see it. The words on the page were spidery and nowhere close to artful, but they screamed I am imperfect, but I am here. I exist despite your spite.

Eskel took a step back, just far enough that he wouldn’t be able to reach the board and tear the poem down again in a fit of doubt. Admiring his own work was vain, but for the first time since Eskel could remember, he had something to admire, something to be proud of.

He must have stood there for too long. Around him, people started gathering, noticing him. One man shoved him. Another yelled at him to get away, that there were no contracts here for the likes of him.

Eskel turned and fled, just as the first stone hit him, right where the girl’s ball had met his shoulder before.

With every shout, every insult, every truth, the mob tore down part of the meaning Eskel had been able to find for himself.

He could only hope that they didn’t realise that the new addition to the notice board came from him. He could only hope that no one would tear off the poem, as they tore at Eskel’s heart with their shouts.

He hoped that maybe, however slim the chance was, someone would find his poem and smile.

It was a foolish hope, born out of pain and despair not unlike the poem itself had been, but it was the only thing keeping him warm that night as he huddled beneath a tree, cold and lonely and dreaming of something he had come so close to having.

#jaskel #jaskierxeskel #eskelxjaskier #witcher #witcher fic #fanfic #mulichapter #angst #eskel #jaskier #insecure eskel #my writing #oh would you look at that #the chapter count has gone up again #no one could have foreseen this

[imaginesbymk]

“Call in Sick Tomorrow.”

Reservoir Dogs One Shot

Summary: During his final moments, Freddy recalls the events from the robbery and the night before, where you find out who he really is, and because of your job as the retail jeweler at the same store the criminals plan the heist at, you showed up at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Pairing: Mr. Orange/Freddy Newandyke x Reader

Tags: swearing, angst + violence, guns/shooting, robbery + blood

Non Requested

Word Count: 2,289

Author’s Note: not me simping for a young tim roth lmfaksmwksksksk ugh</3 hope y’all like it - leave a like/reblog + feedback!!!

THE cop who was covered in his own pool of blood from his gunshot wound, was now practically sticking to the dusty warehouse ramp. He laid there for a good fifteen minutes, maybe more or less, who was there to count? His company wasn’t making things better, either. “Listen to me, Marvin... listen to me, Marvin Nash, I’m a cop.”

“Yeah, I know.” The other bloodied cop, Marvin Nash, was tied up and had his ear cut off by Mr. Blonde, all he could do was bicker and moan in pain and rage. 

“You do?” The first cop asks.

“Yeah, your name’s Freddy something.”

“Newandyke,” he said. “Freddy Newandyke.”

“Frankie Ferchetti introduced us about five months ago.”

Freddy shakes his head. His wound definitely didn’t cause him memory loss. He was just too clueless to acknowledge colleagues, that was something he was aware of and he needed to work on it. “Shit, I don't remember that at all.”

“I do.” Marvin Nash coughs a bit of blood. “Freddy. How do I look?”

Freddy winces out a chuckle. “What? I don't know what to tell you, Marvin.” How do you look? If I told you, I’d be lucky you’re tied up.

“That fuck. That sick fuck! That fuckin' bastard!” 

“Marvin, I need you to hold on. There's cops waiting to move a block away.”

“What the fuck are they waiting for? This fuckin' guy, he slashes my face… and cuts my fuckin' ear off! I'm fuckin' deformed!” Marvin cries out.

Freddy clenches his jaw. How the fuck do you think I feel over here, asshole? “FUCK YOU! Fuck you, my love of my fucking life is gone! I’m fuckin’ dyin’ here! Y/N is gone and I’m fuckin’ dyin’!”

Marvin Nash, a bloodied cop who was now “fucking deformed”, really had no idea how bad the fellow cop’s current state was. Both of them were in pain, but one of them was gonna die first.

Freddy calms down a bit to explain the upcoming events he hopes to happen anytime soon. He was bleeding pretty bad, and it hurt like hell. “They're not to make a move 'til Joe Cabot shows up. I was sent in to get him. Alright? You heard 'em. They said he's on his way.” Marvin lets out a soft breath. Relief was touching a bit of his soul, now all is left is to wait it out, and listen to the sounds of rattling bullets and yells from cops out of one ear. 

“Don't pussy out on me now, Marvin,” Freddy says. “We're just gonna sit here and bleed… 'til Joe Cabot sticks his fuckin' head through that door.”

Marvin whimpers, then takes a long pause. “Freddy?”

Freddy looks up at Marvin Nash once more, lying on his arm for support, his body feeling like a throbbing stubbed toe. “Freddy?” Marvin talks about the giant elephant in the room. “What even fucking happened?”

THE last thing Freddy needed was to end up falling for you while he’s undercover. While he’s good at hiding his true identity from the recruits, he was also good at hiding it from you, but it wasn’t what he wanted in the first place. 

Freddy would never lie to you, but you don’t know that your boyfriend is actually a cop and not a cool bad boy that took care of weed for customers. It pained Freddy to lie to you about who he was. He never even told you that his name was Freddy, only to refer to him as his alias, Mr. Orange, but you paid no mind to it. You loved the mysterious thrill he had, even if that meant calling him a color most commonly known in a fruit.

To this day, he still wonders why you would want to date someone with such a dangerous persona. You made a living working at the same store the recruits were planning the heist at -  Karina’s Wholesale Diamonds, and you were allowed to wear the jewelry that was sold and refined there. You never came to think Mr. Orange was ever gonna steal from you, holding you at gunpoint? Rob your store while his face is covered then he kisses you goodnight hours after?

And so, Freddy’s confession and his first and last fight with you happened the night before the heist. A stressful twelve hours, and it all started with you throwing his police badge on the coffee table, right on top of his Marvel catalog. 

“You’ve been staring at that thing for a whole minute now,” you said, standing stiff as a statue, towering over him on the couch. 

Mr. Orange scrunches his nose. “It was from a cop back in Torrance. The fucker most likely lost his job for carelessly leaving it on a bench.”

“You’ve visited Torrance?”

He nodded. “Y/N, I kept that badge in one of my stashes. You and I agreed to not go through each other’s shit like that - y’know, outta respect?”

“I know that, but you asked me to get your TV guide from one of the drawers. You said you keep it next to your stash, I may not have found pot but I definitely found that.” You nod at the badge. 

Orange shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, babes, but that ain’t mine. Also I ran outta weed, that’s why I haven’t been making any sales lately.”

“You must suck at reeling customers in,” you took out your other hand hidden behind your back, now throwing four poorly folded sheets of paper stapled together right next to the badge. “Otherwise why the hell would you have this; an annotated script about you delivering weed to people, the same words you told me about how you walked into the men’s room with a big bag of weed in front of a couple of  cops and a dog?”

Orange was silent. You knew he was lying. Silence was as painful as spewing out another lie. Not once has there ever been a close call, but now he was trapped with no words to come out his mouth. Even if he did have something to say, each lie he told you felt like he was throwing daggers at your heart. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Orange, is there something you’re not telling me?” Orange merely frowned and got up from the couch, eyeing you up and down. He looked tired from whatever he did the whole day and resting on the couch while watching a movie on the TV was well needed. That, but he was tired of sleeping next to you while a police badge was taunting him in one of the drawers.

“I don’t sell weed, y/n. And the police badge wasn’t from Torrance.”

“So all of that... you smuggling weed in a bowling bag?” you scoff, feeling your blood boil. “You just made that up?”

“Y/n- baby” he starts.

“What the hell? Why would you make that up?” you ask.

“It’s what I had to do,” Orange says. 

You scoff. “Right. That was your way of making friends or to get free drinks, or even getting me to sleep with you?”

“It’s not like that, it was never like that.”

“This is so fucked up!” Hearing you say that made Freddy’s heart fall into a thousand pieces. “Tell me the truth, Orange, if that’s even your fucking name. Who gives birth, looks at their child and goes, ‘Your name is Orange’? As if your kid won’t ever get bullied from that.”

“That’s because that isn’t my fucking name. It’s an alias.”

You shook your head. “Okay, then. Who the fuck are you?”

He clenched his eyes shut, and opened them, wishing you disappeared out of his sight. “Look at my badge.”

You slowly hunched over the table, picking up the badge. You raised a brow at him.

“I want you to hold it while I tell you. My real name is Freddy Newandyke. I’m working undercover for a diamond heist formed by Joe Cabot... the group of criminals he hired are gonna rob your store, stuff a briefcase full of diamonds worth a college tuition, and they’re gonna break it apart, pawn it, whatever fulfills their need.”

“You’re a cop,” you say, confirming what he said was true. Otherwise, that could have been another lie.

He nodded. “I work for the LAPD.”

“What else?”

A pause, then he traces his finger on your hand before curling it with his. “I love you.” His face softens. “My name’s Freddy Newandyke. I’m a cop. The gang I’m undercover for is gonna rob your store tomorrow, and I love you.”

You slowly nodded, looking down at the badge in your other hand. There were no signs of a lie in his tone of voice. His name seems legit, and of course, you loved him, too. “Why didn’t you tell me... Freddy?”

“Because you go after guys that would do the things I told in my story, fellas who you fantasize of having a fucking Bonnie and Clyde ride or die bullshit with, and not me - a cop who geeks out over Marvel.”

“You’re saying my work is being targeted for a heist?” you said. “And you’re part of it?”

Freddy nodded. “You think I’m ever gonna rob you, lie to your face like that? Then walk out of your life, take off just like that - and never see you again?”

“You’ve been lying to me.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you, and whether I told you about who I was or not, I don’t want you involved. Crime gets you in trouble, being undercover puts you in danger,” Freddy kisses your forehead. “You can get caught stealing and smuggling drugs, you can get caught slipping out of character if you’re not careful. You can’t win.”

You tried walking around the couch to disperse into the kitchen, but Freddy stopped in front of you. “I wasn’t born yesterday, asshole. I know what an undercover cop is, if your cover gets blown, you’re fucked.” You crossed your arms. “So what else is gonna happen?”

“We planned this; cops are gonna show up on time, as long as a gun doesn’t go off, we’ll be okay, and the men will be in cuffs as well as Joe Cabot. But listen to me, I don’t want you to show up to work tomorrow, I don’t want you there, I don’t want to have a man in a suit point a gun at your face, and I definitely don’t want you to be a hero,” Freddy says, cupping both your cheeks. “That’s my job.”

“I’m freakin’ pissed at you, but I’m not gonna stay home.” You took his hands off your face.

“I’d rather let myself get caught by a bunch of criminals than have your life threatened by criminals.”

“You’re willing to do that?”

“Anything for you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Getting hurt is part of the job. Y/n, you can’t be a hero. Not like that.”

“Freddy-”

“Y/n, please.” Freddy begs, his face tightening. “If you can’t forgive me; if you can’t trust me anymore, then you can hate me all you want. But for fuck’s sake, at least call in sick tomorrow.”

Yet, you were so stubborn, that was something you needed to work on. Freddy knew it, too. You didn’t listen. The day came, and you showed up, anyway, not wanting to live knowing the guy you loved no matter who he claimed he was. He was in charge of standing at the door, not allowing anyone access inside or out. But upon seeing you behind the counter through the glass window, you saw Freddy’s face drop. “No…”

The deafening sound of the alarm goes off by one of the retailers, forcing Mr. Blonde to shoot everyone he saw, including you.

Freddy cried out this time, “No!” 

People inside- the employees and customers, all screamed together. Freddy slammed his hands against the display windows, watching you as you fall back onto the floor, bleeding out from your shoulder. Mr. Blonde nearly shot everyone in the room, even almost hitting Mr. White in the process. He spotted your foot sticking out, and you attempted to crawl away, but he pointed his gun at you again. 

Just as planned, the police break in, prompting him to run away. You collapsed in your pool of blood, realizing how this was straight out of a crime movie scene, and the pain of your wound was inexplicable. How could you feel it with every inch in your body and still manage to move ever so slightly?

You looked back, realizing you were all alone, the only one left alive. Freddy didn’t do what a hero would have done, and escaped with the men, holding back his tears with his dear life behind the dark shades of his sunglasses, fighting to stay in character.

He had to assume the more logical conclusion; you were treated at the hospital, or you bleed to death back at that jewelry wholesale, and you died hating him.

Whether you knew him as a criminal or an undercover cop, you were going to show up, anyway, because you want to protect him, like any kind of Bonnie and Clyde you’d expect from movies. Except Bonnie and Clyde were both shot to death. In this world, Clyde escapes - Bonnie was left to bleed out.

FREDDY stared up at Marvin Nash. Does Freddy regret accepting the undercover mission? A brave young man like him took such a dangerous job, but he knew he was better off without it. The last thing he said to you swarmed his mind like bees; “Call in sick tomorrow.”

THE END

_

taglist: @locke-writes​

#freddy newandyke #freddy newandyke x reader #freddy newandyke one shot #freddy newandyke imagine #mr orange imagine #mr orange x reader #mr orange one shot #reservoir dogs one shot #reservoir dogs x reader #reservoir dogs #reservoir dogs imagine #reader insert #one shot #imagine #mk's faves

[doctorreids]

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER THREE - the last great american dynasty 

previous chapter | next chapter 

word count - 1,494

a/n: sorry this is so late and so short! life has been weirdly busy the past week but i’m going to try and get back into writing again, writer’s block is killing me a bit. hope this is ok - i’m honestly not too sure about this chapter :/

“there goes the maddest this town has ever seen, she had a marvellous time ruining everything.”

It had been one week since he walked out of her apartment, the echo of the door closing still reverberating through her home.

She was tired. Work was strenuous, to say the least, Hotch having to avoid pairing the two of them together, they could barely look at one another. Having to explain to your unit chief that the relationship they swore wouldn’t get in the way of work ended bitterly was, to put it simply, embarrassing. Hotch said little, just offered her a sad smile when he noticed how rundown she was and asked if she needed a few personal days.

Both of them refused to take time off.

Morgan had to beg Garcia to not say anything, to either of them, which was easier said than done for her but she watched with despair as her friends slowly became shells of people. Emily and JJ had held her the whole weekend, letting her cry her heart out.

By the end of the week, every member of the team was exhausted by the dark cloud that surrounded them both. So, naturally, Garcia suggested they go out for drinks and invite some of her friends. Surprisingly, she was all for it - all she wanted to do was to drown her sorrows in alcohol. She just wanted to forget.

Forget his touch. Forget his smile. Forget his voice. For just one night.

Emily was worried about her. She watched as her friend got herself ready, copious amounts of concealer to cover up her lack of sleep and the sexiest thing she owned. Emily was pretty sure she hadn’t worn that dress since college, it was evident in the way she kept pulling them down every time she stood up. The large glass of rose that sat on her vanity table was nearly gone by the time she’d finished putting on her makeup and fixing her hair.

Garcia and Emily had to keep a watchful eye over her, both of them only sipping slightly on their Gin and Tonics every once in a while. JJ was busy with Henry and promised she’d join them later. Emily and Garcia both knew it was because Spencer was babysitting Henry that night.

They were torn between them both. JJ and Spencer were inseparable but she had found a close friend in Y/N. Emily and Y/N shared a bond so special not even Morgan and Garcia could match it but she cared for Spencer too - she knew them both too well and it did more than just hurt to see them this pained.

Garcia, on the other hand, was heartbroken with them. Ever terrified of losing her friends, she was worried that one of them would leave the team. As she looked over at Y/N putting on her bravest face, she knew it could be her. She didn’t want to dwell on the possibility that Spencer could leave her too.

Surrounded by her friends, Y/N didn’t feel so lost anymore. She felt grounded for a while like she could tell the forest from the trees. Yet with every glass of wine, she couldn’t help but let her mind drift to the nights where she would sit with a glass of white, him with a whiskey and they would talk. Just talk.

She can’t help but think that she ruined everything - she was too clingy, didn’t give him enough space. She can’t help but recall her college friend’s faces over FaceTime when she told them - they tried to cover it up as much as they could but they looked at her as if she was the maddest woman they’d ever met.

“Flew in all her Bitch Pack friends from the city, filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names, and blew through the money on boys and the ballet.”

Spencer didn’t like her college friends.

Scratch that. He hated them.

They were obnoxiously loud, careless and the complete opposite of Y/N. But she knew he tried not to judge. He was as kind to them as he was to anyone else, she just knew he disagreed strongly with their idea of a night out.

He pictured going to see a movie, or a nice meal in a nice restaurant.

They pictured bars, shots, and taxis home at 3am.

Maybe that’s why she invited them to join the BAU girls night out - she knew they bothered JJ, Emily, and Penelope but they never said anything. So, she just let it go. Maybe she invited them as some kind of revenge or a chance to drive the knife in a little bit further. Maybe it was none of that - she just needed attention.

Amber and Paige were her roommates in college - they were there for the first boyfriends, breakups, hookups and drunken mistakes. It’s hard to admit that sometimes people grow apart. She wanted to cling onto a sense of normalcy at least. At most, she wanted to let her inhibitions go.

Emily didn’t trust them. They were handing her shot after shot in the club, pulling her over to guys Y/N clearly wasn’t comfortable with talking to let alone flirting with. Amber and Paige were marvelling in her pain - they used it as a joke. She overheard something about Y/N finally breaking up with that nerdy, stuck up workaholic, something about Y/N could do better. Emily had to restrain JJ and Garcia from body slamming them into the bar. Y/N was too tipsy to comprehend their words.

The club was full of people, the flares of the lights bouncing off the corners of the dance floor. The air was humid, sweaty bodies pressed together. JJ, Emily, Penelope, and Y/N felt incredibly out of place - the only time they would ever enter a club was during a case if it called for it, bars were more their style for a girl’s night out. Amber and Paige, however, were in their element.

They acted like the college-aged students that occupied the dance floor and Y/N was immersed in it. Dancing with everyone she could, trying to drown herself and all the memories in them.

She wanted to ruin the good times that were haunting her.

For a while it was fun, blowing her money on shots and dancing into the next day. Then it was just her and Emily. Amber and Paige ditched them just a while ago, left her cold and exposed outside the club. She was used to that by now though.

The only comfort she had was Emily rubbing the small of her back, reminding her she wasn’t as alone as she felt, as they sat in the taxi back to her apartment.

Everything was blurry and slow but she was sure she didn’t want to be alone.

“Can you stay with me tonight?” She asked, like a child crawling into bed with their mother.

“Anything for you.” was the reply.

After that, the journey home is just blurred hues of traffic-lights and dim street lights guiding them home.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Emily said softly, ushering her into her room, helping her step out of her dress and into her pyjamas. She allowed the tears to flow freely for the first time that week.

Emily swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked at her friend.

“I miss him, Em.” she slurred.

“I know you do.”

A calm silence fell over the two women.

“Do you remember that case in Florida? The one with the rituals?

Emily was surprised she could recall this much in her drunken state.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

It all came flooding back to her, a soft breeze on her skin and his arm wrapped around her waist as they stood on the pier.

“That was the first time he told me he loved me.” Her eyes became heavy at the thought of that night.

A sad smile graced Emily’s lips as she watched her closest friend drift to sleep.

“pacing the rocks, and staring out at the midnight sea.”

She can’t recall much of that night but she knows she dreamt about that night in Miami.

Nighttime was the only time when Spencer wasn’t really bothered by his headaches, so they walked hand in hand on that pier; she could feel and see the love he felt for her. She just hoped he could too.

These were the times that she wished she had his eidetic memory. She wants to remember each and every word they spoke. The ones ushered at night, holding each other, skin-on-skin. She wants to remember each glance, the way he would blush when she caught him staring. Some memories are so vivid, some are so dull that they fade to nothingness when she pushes for them.

Yet, her love still burns on. Does his?

#spencer reid #spencer #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #reidxfolklore

[misomilk]

the new game has been giving me so many stony feelings so i just HAD to write something!!!!

The Diary [AO3] Pairing: Steve Rogers x Tony Stark AU: Marvel’s Avengers Word Count: ~2.3k Summary: Steve wonders about Tony reading his diary. He couldn't really have read it...could he?

He didn’t really read his diary...did he?

To the others, it’s been five years, but to Steve it was just a few days ago that he had last written an entry on it. It’s not that he kept a diary to note down all the fluttery feelings he felt for his fellow Avenger. Most entries were akin to those he’d write on mission reports. Things he did well, things he should’ve done better. But few and far between, there would be glimpses of his feelings for Tony.

Steve can still remember what his entry about Tony’s jokes was.

Tony said more than a few jokes during today’s mission. I didn’t get them. Then he drew roses around the page, because Steve knew if he found the courage to speak his feelings, he’d be giving the genius a bouquet a day.

He drew flowers on the same pages he ever mentioned Tony. Blue violets, daisies, pansies. Thank God his drawings of Tony’s portraits were in a separate sketchbook and not in the diary. When the bean bag or mission reports weren’t enough to calm him down at night, it was thinking of Tony and etching his image on paper that helped soothe him through the night.

Then Steve remembered there were a few, more sentimental entries, too.

Like that night they spent together at the tower penthouse, gazing at the sky, watching planes go by, talking about the smallest things. Tony surprisingly didn’t drink a drop of alcohol, but he talked so much. About his life, about his father, about how much he wanted the world to be at peace. Steve wanted to take him in his arms then. Dance with him, maybe, if there was music. Steve wanted to tell him he was his world, but the sun had come up before he had summoned the courage to do so.

He drew tulips on that page.

God. It really was a love diary, wasn’t it? Masked with non-Tony entries, but it really was. And Tony read it? Tony read it? No way… He couldn’t have. What were the chances Tony went through his things, and got the hold of it? Unsure. What were the chances Tony read every single entry upon finding said diary? Highly likely. Tony’s curiosity led him to no bounds.

Did Tony find the diary? Did he read it? If it wasn’t 25 past two in the morning, Steve would strut down to Tony’s room and ask for answers now. But he’ll have to settle for doing that first thing in the morning. Instead, thoughts threatened to haunt Steve throughout the night. But he managed to keep them at bay as he drew Tony’s face on a new sketchbook-- his face when he found him.

The first face he saw since waking up. If Steve closed his eyes, he could still picture it. The worry in Tony’s eyes, mixed with a hint of relief, the way his eyes wouldn’t pull away from him. His arms around him when he caught him--hugged him. It was as if he was still dreaming. Being so close to Tony was the most surreal thing to have happened to him. Even more than finding out he was stuck in space for the past five years or so. Tony Stark had been the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes, and that has been a dream Steve has wished for since he realized his feelings for him.

And then thoughts about the diary filtered into his brain yet again. With a sigh, he set the sketchbook down beside him and got settled into bed, hoping sleep would claim him so morning would come faster.

***

“Looking a little stiff there, you feeling all right?”

Steve swallowed. It’s finally morning and here he’s found himself at Tony’s room, right before breakfast. “Sure. Never better.”

Tony smirks. “Uh-huh.” “I’m fine.” Steve hoped his response was less frigid than it felt.

“That was so convincing.” Tony turned back to what he was working on at the center of his room. It looked like a weapon. “Thanks for putting my mind at ease.”

Was that one of Tony’s jokes just now? Steve sighed, stepping in a little further into the room. It’s messy, but feels homey. A lot like Tony.

“Can I… help you, Cap?”

“Yes, well,” Steve gathered the courage to ask what he wanted. And that’s when he noticed it in the corner, hanging upon one of the closets. Wrinkled and old, but definitely once Steve’s. “Is that my jacket?”

“Uh, well… After you died, I wanted to… honor you.”

Don’t get your hopes up. Steve told himself, but his heart was already fluttering. “I was dead.”

“Hey, let me grieve at my own pace.”

Steve laughed softly, smiling at the jacket. That Tony would keep with him something Steve always used to wear to remember him by making his heart soar. Then he remembered again. The diary. If Tony managed to find this jacket, surely he would’ve found the diary. Ask him. Ask him. “Tony?”

“Yes?”

“Did you really read my diary?”

The screwing on of bolts halted. Steve turned to Tony to see that he’d stopped tinkering with the thing on his desk.

“Tony?”

Silence followed before Tony spoke. “Why do you wanna know?”

Steve lifted an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you answering the question?”

Tony’s eyes darted at Steve’s, then immediately looked away. And if Steve knew better, he’d realize Tony was actually blushing. “Look, Cap, I’m sorry, okay? I know it’s a breach of privacy, or whatever.” Now it was Steve’s turn to blush. He felt the heat down to the crane of his neck. “So you did.”

“I--”

It was rare to see Tony so out of words when he was always ready for the wittiest remark. Steve didn’t know what to make of it. Did Tony despise what he read in it that much? Or did he like it? What did he feel now, knowing Steve had written about him in his diary, and drew flowers around his name?

***

Read it? Tony basked in it. Every single day of his life since the day his world went away, he drowned himself in the world Steve saw through his eyes. And when Tony realized there were entries about him, entries about him with flowers etched along the edges for Christ’s sake, what was he to do? Grieve over the chance he missed, living a life full of love with the man who had his affections, that’s what. Because Steve was gone.

Steve was gone. But he came back, and he found him, and now he’s here. And what did Tony do? Run away with his tail between his legs, that’s what. How was he supposed to approach Steve? Hey, I read your diary. You have feelings for me? I have feelings for you, too. Let’s get together. Not exactly the best way to woo someone. But maybe Tony should’ve taken it, because then he wouldn’t have to be in this awkward conversation right now.

“I know I shouldn’t have read it.” Tony sighed, putting a hand on his head. He could swear it was starting to ache. “But I didn’t know what it was at first. It wasn’t like it had a label on it, you know? Steve’s Diary, do not read.”

“But you read it.” “Yes, Captain Obvious. I’ve only said it like, a million times.” Tony rolled his eyes and looked at Steve then. Steve. Steve was blushing . Even the tips of his ears were red, and he looked so adorable Tony’s reactor could leap out of his chest. “Steve? You okay, buddy?”

“I don’t know what to say, Tony.” Steve walked towards the wall, leaning against it for balance. “You… You know now, don’t you?”

Tony played coy. “Know what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know ,” Steve seemed to speak against his teeth. “What I wrote, how I-- and you--”

A moment of silence seemed to stretch on for eternity before Steve finally said the next word.

“What am I doing? How could I be so stupid?”

Tony blinked, wondering how Steve went from blushing to rushing out his door. “What? Steve? Hey, wait.” He immediately stood up and caught Steve by the arm before he could pass through the door. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t like me.” Steve looked into Tony’s eyes then, standing at the door to his room in his lounge pants and shirt, so much hurt, so much raw pain. It hurt Tony’s heart the same, itching static between his body and reactor. “Not the way I like you.”

Tony couldn’t correct him, even if he wanted to. His actions the past few days spoke louder for him than his true feelings.

“You know what you read in my diary. I like you, Tony. I really do. But you-- You just brush it off like you never read a word of it.” Though a few inches taller than Tony, Steve looked so small and so dejected. Steve shook his head and looked away. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve brought this up. I promise I’ll be professional when I see you at breakfast.”

“No, Steve, wait!” Tony’s hands latched onto Steve’s arms, making him turn towards him again. Tears started to run down Steve’s face, and Tony wished he could tear out his reactor right now so it would mend the pain. “Steve…”

Steve pushed Tony away lightly, rubbing his hands across his eyes. He laughed dryly. “Look at me, a grown man crying over a silly crush.”

“That’s not true, Steve…” Tony held the other’s hands in his then, looking into his eyes. “I-- Honestly, I don’t know what you see in me. I’m an idiot.”

“Do you or don’t you make a point of how smart you are every single day of your life?” Steve smirked, though it quickly disappeared as he sobbed. Tony led Steve away from the door and towards his bed where he let Steve cry out his feelings. Once Steve was a little calmer, Tony stood up and sat on the other’s lap. The other’s eyes quickly widened in surprise, jaw dropping in shock.  “Uhm… Tony?”

Tony tried not to notice the flush of heat rising in his cheeks. “Look, I’m not so good at talking--”

That made Steve huff a laugh. “You? Not good at talking?” “I know, I know. I can barely keep my mouth shut. But I’m not good when it comes to, you know, talking about the real things.”

“Real things...?”

Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders then, drinking in the other’s clear blue eyes as he spoke his words slowly, with much certainty. “Like how I feel about you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped again, and Tony swore he could just lean down and kiss him right then and there. “Which is…?”

“I like you, too, Cap.” Tony leaned down to press their foreheads together. All he could see were Steve’s sweet eyes, and his world was a little brighter. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick and that I avoided talking to you about your diary. I just-- I wasn’t ready.”

“Hmm,” Steve mumbled, and Tony could swear he felt that rumble against his throat from how close they were. He felt hands settle themselves on Tony’s hips, and Tony decided then to sit a little higher on the other’s thighs. “And are you? Ready now?”

“Maybe?” Tony’s eyes fluttered, the warmth of Steve’s hands on his hips surreal. He could feel a finger or two slip underneath his shirt and he gave away a soft moan. “If you are?”

“I am.”

Their lips found each other barely a moment later. Steve’s lips were so much softer than Tony could ever imagine. He closed his eyes, mastering the feeling of Steve’s lips against his as they kissed over and over and over. He bit down on Steve’s lower lip, which caused the other to gasp loud. And with the other’s mouth open, he took the chance to slip his tongue into the other’s, kissing him gently, with all the love he felt.

“Tony…” Steve moaned against his lips, and it rang sweetly in his ears.

“Steve…”

“Hey, Tony. Have you seen Cap? Breakfast is r---WHOA MY GOSH!! I’m so sorry!!!” Kamala had come into Tony’s room, causing their kiss to abruptly end as the two stared at the door in horror. Kamala stood there, hands over her eyes. “So all the Stony fanfiction were right after all? That’s so rad!!”

“Weren’t you the one who said something about knocking, hmm?” Tony teased her as he reluctantly stood up from Steve’s lap. “You can open your eyes now, little one.”

“Right! Okay! Sorry!” Kamala had the brightest smile as she put her hands down. She pointed towards the kitchen area of the ship. “Anyways, it’s breakfast time. Come once you’re ready?”

“Will do.”

“Good morning, Cap!!”

“Good morning, Kamala.”

With that she was out of the room. “Hey Nat! You’ll never guess what I saw.”

“Oh, boy.” Tony laughed, seeing Natasha standing right outside his door with a smirk on her face. “I guess the cat’s outta the bag already. And here I was hoping we could keep it under wraps for at least… a few hours?” Tony was surprised when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, and lips pressed against his neck. “Ooh… I--I think I really like this development.”

“So do I.” Steve smiled against his neck before pressing one more kiss. “You can’t take back what you said, Tony.”

“No worries. I had no plans to.”

“After breakfast, do you think we could..”

“Yeah?” “Continue from where we left off?”

Tony turned around to see Steve blushing to the tips of his ears yet again. He smiled, and pulled his lover down to kiss him on the lips. “Of course, love. Anything you want.”

#marvel's avengers #stony #stevetony #ma spoilers #spoilers #myfics #avengers video game

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Skin-Walker/Nature Spirit Boyfriend: Daithi 2

I felt guilty last time when the first part ended with the death of a character (spoiler) so, I thought I would add more to it and try and bring a happier ending to it all. I hope you enjoy it.

Themes: death and mortality, moving on, all that depressing stuff.

Genderless reader x Male monster 

PART 1 

Can’t Pretend Part 2 

Skin supple once had aged like curdled milk, the roots of old flowers had brought them to the weeds, just like those and their faces you knew that grew up in their stages – growing then thriving then leaving - all the same, except you were the exception.

Life had been too cruel enough to make you stay to watch everyone leave around you, even when you hadn’t needed them a very long time ago.

Your child first, your womb had quickened into dust and quicksand, the bane of your existence to have a child with your husband and to thrive as a family was taken from you the first and last time; your womb a crypt for your babe that never made it out.

Your husband was next to leave: from when growing old together had brought the good and bad of memories, he was too frail to the end of it all, his lovely trinkets and fishing pole still left on the mantle where he had left it from his youth; the wedding present he had given.

Your days in matrimonial to Erik were sincere and fond, the bricks you both laid one by one to build a foundation of trust had stayed sturdy and upright after he left, the very existence of your home was an example of it all. Even during the building of your marriage, you found yourself thinking to your youth: to the times of thinking you were not desirable, more so now just cursed than lucky to outlive everyone.

Daithi… you thought of him a lot.

You awoke with your bone old and frail as usual, the heartfelt soreness made up for how you wrapped in bundles to fend off the eternal colds of the seasons, leaving with little more than a cane to get you out of your door. 

The nature surrounding you hadn’t changed, the people had – in the youthful children running around to young lovers - you kept yourself happy in the best ways as possible, even when everything felt futile.

You tottered but got around as best as you could even in the prime of age, your cane helpful to help you go to the clearing you had gone to many times before. Every day, without fail. 

The soil was cold but crunched with each step you took, the path had been covered over in snow and moss as you crossed the small river with its rickety old bridge you had seen built 3 decades ago. And still, no-one had repaired it.

Your head craned upwards suddenly when you heard a caw above your head just to see fly past two crows in a loving pairing, fly to their nest to feed their young. You frowned, your hopes too high once more.

You continued onward, ignoring all signs of what you wanted in it being him, staggering up the hill to reach the top, where the air was at its coldest and you were wheezing and cold.

“Even now, you would love how nothing has changed, Daithi.” You hummed to yourself, onlooking the rows of small stone huts that had been once made of straw and little else, the coal and fires that burnt out and danced above the treeline whilst you looked onward at the large lake.

“Do you remember Dalia? Well, she had her babes in the frail spring. Two boys, bright as rain and bold as fire. She says they always go out into these woods to climb the trees.” You laughed to yourself in thought, “I’d imagine you would give them a good scolding.”

You listened to how the air calmed and surrounded you as one as you leant over a lovely yet old oak tree, as old as you had been or even older, onlooking the view. “I always imagined what it would be like… the other side. How morbid, I know, but… even if it’s cold and lonely, I think—I’d like to think I’m ready.” You rubbed your slender fingers to keep the warmth as best as you could, wincing at the pain in your joints.

“What is it like, Daithi? Is it different for you or do you have all walks of life with you?” You found yourself here to think and pray, pray to any old cold God that was out there to hear your prayers, making you believe that your wishes were all for your own misery.

“I don’t even know if I will ever see you again, or Erik or mother. But that’s okay—I think, I’d like to believe that there is peace out there, away from all of this, and that you are all happy.” The cold nipped harder at your skin, leaving you practically shivering with little to no fibre in your body allowing you to move.

“Will these same cruel Gods be kind enough to give me closure? Is my time now, I wonder?” You closed your eyes, thinking back to the days of youth and skin supple and your legs carrying you long and far enough that you didn’t grow so tired.

You had been 10 when you remembered the distant memory: under a willow tree that wept tears with you, hiding you with its billowing leaves and branches, you cried that day over something so feebly that the other children had laughed over, leaving you to run as far off as you could away from your village that day – in hopes of running away altogether.

‘You know, if you had stayed five seconds longer, you would’ve witnessed a small crow threaten them all.’

Your head rose swiftly when you met the comforting smile and light eyes of the skin-walker, ‘Daithi!’ You beamed tears of silver that leaked down your face as you leapt into his arms, his long strong ones wrapping around your sturdily and protectively, never seeming to want to let you go.

‘You gave me quite the scare, little one,’ you breathed in his scent as he gently spoke to you, calming you down quickly, ‘I was worried about you.’ He inspected you of any wounds, except for a few scratches and bruises.

‘Did you do that for me? Did you scare them off for me?’ You whimpered whilst you dried your tears. Daithi seemed to be taken back by your question as if you didn’t believe his words at all. “My dear, I would risk my own life to save you, you know that, don’t you?’

You nodded innocently, not realising his words would seemingly come true. Did you risk your own life for me, Daithi? Why? You could still be living and breathing now, young and never ageing for aeons.

“Daithi, oh, Daithi, how I miss you.” The tears like that day fell down your wrinkly cheeks thickly, dribbling down your chin and dampening your shawl. “Life has been so cruel, and you were taken from me before I had the chance to love you truly. I miss you so.”

By the time you realised, the wind had stilled and there was no cold nor bite that stung your skin when you had been freezing earlier – in fact, you couldn’t feel anything at all. It wasn’t terrifying nor scary, but soothing and calming, as if you had been reunited with an old friend.

When you lifted your head in reaction and realisation to this, the sky had changed in colours, as if you had been up the hill all day, now a sky full of lavender and pink, milky clouds littering the sky in wonder and amazement.

Out of the corner of your eye, a lone ink-black feather floating to land just at the heel of your foot, drifting away in the thin air.

There, in the distance, the faint sound of a bird’s wings fluttering in the distance, a shriek of a caw echoing along the buoyant trees.

“Little one?” You turned your head abruptly, feeling no pain if you had done so earlier, your body picking yourself up as you looked to the person standing before you like a God. “Oh, Gods… it’s you.”

The nature spirit hadn’t looked any different but just as comely as you had remembered in your youth. His skin wasn’t sickly nor wan, no blood blotting your skin as he stood before you like an illusion.

“It’s you, how—it can’t be, not yet.” Were his words of shock as he stumbled his way towards you, gingerly holding out his hand as you brought him into a warm embrace.

“What do you mean ‘not yet?’” You questioned sombrely, “Do you know how many decades have gone by? And now you want me to leave?”

“No—no, I don’t, but it is not your time to leave.” He cradled you, and when you met his gaze, his eyes were glassy, as if the fog of his pupils were dissipating. He was taking you in, silently marvelling you, “You’re still incredible like I remember, little one.”

“What, even in my wrinkled state?” You laughed dryly, stroking his hair back, as smooth as if he was real. “Are you… dead?”

“Yes, but your memory of me has kept me alive all this time.” He smiled through his tears, “ I’ve been here with you all this time, watching you grow through the good and bad. I was there when you laughed when you cried, I never left.”

You finally allowed more tears to fall, your hands shakily trailing over his flesh, when he halted you. “But you cannot stay here, you must go back.”

“I do not want to, Daithi. Please, I don’t want to go back, not again. Never have I felt a day so warm here with you in front of me right now.” 

Daithi brought his fingers to cradle the back of your neck, his long fingers stroking at your jaw. “Are you sure?”

“Is it… terrifying?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he assured you in what you believed was acceptance, “look around you, dear. Everything has to die soon: the little flowers, the trees, those of your village. But there are things that still stay, the moon, the sun, the rain that doesn’t stop dripping. The fear eventually stops, and the calm comes after the storm. And it’s beautiful.”

You smiled sadly, breathing in his scent of mint and pine. “If this is what the afterlife is like then, why would I want to leave so soon?”

Daithi smiled in comfort, hugging you back with no intention of letting you go. “It’s been too long, dear.”

You nodded, and when your hand came to cradle his fingers, you found yourself looking to the flesh of your own. Your skin was no longer wrinkly and there was no joint pain: your skin was smooth and supple once more, the sudden realisation had taken a toll on you as you leant up to kiss the skin-walker against his lips. “I know, but I’m here now.”

Warm, reassuring and tender. You had missed him so.

#shapeshifter #monster #nature spirit shapeshifter #shapeshifter monster #monster boyfriend #male monster x reader #genderless reader #monster oc #monster writing #exophilia nature spirit #nature spirit oc #male nature spirit #nature spirit boyfriend #male monster #skinwalker monster #skinwalker exophilia #skin-walker #part 2 #daithi the skinwalker #daithi the nature spirit