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yourejinx · 1 year ago

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Undeniable Bonds.

Azriel x F. Reader

Warnings: angst, sad, ugly thoughts.

word count: 3583.

Author’s note: I’m so sorry I’m so late with this. I still don’t know if I like it, but hopefully it isn’t that bad. I know it still is a lot of context, but I promise I’m getting somewhere.

CHAPTER TWO.

“CASSIAN!” — Nesta’s warning roar reached my ears and everything seemed to stop. I turned around dragging my sword with me and gutting the Hybern soldier in one go.

I scanned the area where Cassian’s party was fighting in the skies, then towards the older Archeron sister on the ground next to Amren. Something throbbed inside my veins in warning, as if something hideous had come to life. It took me a heartbeat to understand. The Cauldron. It was going to blast, and Nesta had known where it was aimed at.

The Ilyrians had their shields up, Rhys had blasted his magic across the field and Cassian —gods above— Cassian was already racing towards Nesta, and out of the Cauldrons range. Still, something kept pushing, urging me to move. Danger, Danger, Danger it chanted. It hit me a moment later, and all my alarms went off. Where was Azriel?

Amidst the blinding light and unbearably heat of the blast that followed, I almost missed the faint blue glow trying and failing to contain the blow. There, just behind the ranks, Azriel’s focus was solely in holding that shield up, trying to spare someone, anyone. I could only watch in horror as one of those abhorred gray-skinned creatures approached him fast, claws ready to cut through skin and bone. It was going to behead him.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream like Nesta had to let him know. But my voice failed me, my throat so sore that only a pathetic strangled whisper managed to escape my trembling lips; “No.”

I cursed the mother, the gods and fate itself for not making me a winged creature.

It was impossible for him to have heard it through this distance, and yet —somehow— as if it had slapped him across the face, he turned towards me. His eyes found mine through ash and gore and despair, and I couldn’t let myself think twice before winnowing right at his back, atop the damned beast aiming for his head. I couldn’t bother with strategy at this point, I just angled my blade against that misshaped chest and pushed to get it through its heart. The creature thrashed and fought fangs and claws to get me off, turning us around in the sky as we plummeted down towards certain death. It was enough, I told myself as the ground inched closer to us. It was enough to get it away from Azriel.

I braced myself for the impact, my eyes closed shut and my arms gave up as the creature finally stopped moving. But my body never touched the ground.

Rough, desperate hands were gripping my legs and under my arms, snatching me from the Attor’s grip and up to the skies again. I dared a look at his face, he was forcing his still healing wings far too much but he didn’t seem to care. Hazel orbs were already staring at me. Gaping at me. And I felt it too, the golden string stretching between our souls. Mates, Azriel was my mate.

“You…” Azriel choked on his words. Eyes wide.

“Later.” I promised, still shaken by the feeling of him. Of his very essence entwining with mine.

But the war was still raging under our feet. Later never came.

—----------------------------------------------------------

It had been terrible timing for the bond to snap then. With all that was going on, Amren turning into a living raging flame then vanishing, the Cauldron and the world falling apart…Rhys dying —fucking dying on us — only to come back later.

We didn't speak about it, Azriel and I. Didn't bother to acknowledge it as time passed and we fell back into routine. The adrenaline of the war worn out.

It didn't matter anyways, I realized coming back to present time, for he had hated it even then. So I shut it down, and never dared to talk it into existence.

My mate, the person destined for me, despised me in every way he could. It had to be the saddest joke of them all.

But he had a right, after all, who would love an unworthy monstrous thing like myself?

I pushed the little bakery's door open, walking straight to Rhysand's favorite sweets and buying an entire box of them.

"You're not his fucking sister!", Azriel's words still rang loudly in my head. I had to think carefully how to bring the subject up to Rhys, my decision to leave this court. Because even if I wanted to deny it, some part of what the Shadowsinger had said resonated with me. I didn't deserve Rhys, didn't deserve any of them.

It was getting late already, the sun starting its descent behind the mountains casting Velaris in a warm orange glow. Feyre spotted me first through the open window of their shared home and waved at me to come in. Rhys was just a few feet behind her, holding baby Nyx close to his chest. They looked so happy, if not albeit a bit tired due to the still new parenting dynamic. A smile cut its way through my lips at the scene.

"Y/N, back already?" The High Lady smiled warmly at me. I returned the gesture.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to Rhys about something." I said approaching them and placing a kiss atop Nyx's raven hair. I waved the box of sweets in front of Rhysand's nose. "Has Azriel showed up?"

"No, why?" He asked, snatching the box from my hands with a childish grin and handling the babe to his mate.

I waved a hand in dismissal. He motioned for me to follow him into his office and out to the open balcony overviewing the river.

"What 's going on?"

"Well, we— I didn't found anything that could track back to the missing fae,"

"I sense there's a but somewhere in there.." He said, cocking an eyebrow.

"But…it felt wrong. There was something strange going on. I'm sorry I don't have any proof to offer you, it was a waste of time."

He frowned. "It could happen, we weren't certain about it. We'll keep looking, you’re going to catch them." Rhys opened the box, throwing some sweets into his mouth and then offered me some. “You’re not here just for the mission, are you? I’m guessing either this is some kind of bribe or you’re trying to soften the blow.”

I gave him a half smile, bracing my hands on the railing. His own smile faltered for a moment and concern latched onto his features. “I should brace myself for the blow then,” he commented, resting his back on the railing next to me and searching for my face.

“It’s not that…” I murmured, still not looking directly at him. “You know I love you, right?”

“If you’re going to confess now, please remember my mate is next door” he joked.

“Ass.” I nudged in the ribs with an elbow. Rhys chuckled to himself.

“I love you too, idiot. What 's going on?”

I let out a small sigh. How was I supposed to approach the subject? I have never been good with words and there was so much to tell.

“I mean it, Rhys. You’re my family, you and Feyre, Mor, Cass, Amren…all of you. I’ve never had that, you know? a true family” I glanced at him at last. “I’m sorry if in my excitement I crossed a boundary that I shouldn’t have crossed. I know I’m not your sister, and I will never be her, nor do I intend to occupy her place in your heart. I just… never knew how much I wanted to belong somewhere until I met you guys.”

He frowned deeply. His whole demeanor was serious now.

“Where is this coming from Y/N? Of course you’re not my sister, she’s been gone for a long time. But you still are my family, you’re my sister in every way that counts except for blood. I don’t understand what my dead sister has to do with anything.”

I shook my head, already regretting my choice of words.

“You give me way more than what I deserve… I think it’s time for me to really earn my living.”

“Let me see if I understand correctly. You think you don’t deserve your life here, your home, your job, your friends. Because that should’ve belonged to my sister? Who told you that?”

My eyes shut and I breathed deeply through my nose. I didn’t mean to offend him. "I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, but I can't help feeling like I'm living off of you, of your money.”

“You’re not using my money, you’re using your money. The one you’ve earned by putting your life on the line every single time for us, whenever I asked. You’re not my charity project, you’re my family, and I owe you just as much. So let me ask you again, who put such ideas in your head?”

“No one Rhys. I had that thought in the back of my mind for a while now and when an opportunity had presented itself I just…I don’t want to be a burden.”

Rhys relaxed his shoulders a bit, and put a hand atop my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“A couple of months ago Hellion offered me a position in his court and told me to think about it, it is mine if I want it. I could finally have my own place, and I would still visit you here”

“I can’t tell you not to take it if that’s what you really want, what would make you happy. But don’t do it for the wrong reasons. Everything you have here, you’ve earned it. The only thing I’m offering you for free is my friendship, I don’t think you’re a replacement for my sister, you are your own person and we all love you for you. So please, get that ridiculous idea that you’re a burden out of your thick skull.” He pinched my cheek affectionately, my throat felt tight. “ And as for Hellion… think about it thoroughly, at least stay until Solstice, would you do that for me?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. His eyes were always so gentle on me, so understanding.

“Alright.” I mused.

Soft knocks sounded from behind us and Feyre poked her head through the half-open door. “Sorry to interrupt you guys but Azriel is here, says it's urgent.”

Rhys cut a glance at me as if to make sure I was fine before he let the Shadowsinger in. I knew that Rhys suspected about us, about the mating bond, but I never told him and he never asked. My relationship with Azriel has always been strained and Rhysand could absolutely tell it was hurting me, but as long as I wouldn’t bring it up he’d stay out of it. And I appreciated that.

Feyre nodded behind her and fully opened the door to let the Shadowsinger inside. His posture was rigid, wings tucked tight as his eyes fell upon me. “You were right.” He uttered. “I found something back in Spring.”

I willed my face into neutrality, there was no way in Hell I would let him see how much his words had affected me. “What is it?”

"I found a caravan of females of different ages set to be transported through the river. I broke them free but there was no sign of their captors, however I think there’s something you should see.” Azriel’s face was stoic as ever, revealing nothing about the mission nor our previous conflict.

I turned to Rhysand once more, “We should go check on them, but Rhys we can’t leave them there. They will strike again, I’m sure of it, and we can’t count on Tamlin either. No one has heard a word of him in months.”

“We can’t exactly bring an entire court to The Shelter Y/N, those females, they have families. Despite Tamlin being missing, there are still rules and accords with the other courts. It won’t look good. The other High Lords won’t look the other way if we just trespass the borders and start to bring people into our court or if we leave sentinels in there, they will take it as an act of defiance, of me trying to expand these lands and my rule on them.” He had an apologetic look on his face, ever the wise High Lord considering every possible outcome.

I knew he was right and I would not get mad at him. Still, it frustrated me to no end.

I chewed on my bottom lip trying to come up with a solution, at least until we found the slavers.

“What if I talked to Eris?” I offered. “Maybe we could station a small patrol near the border with Autumn under his discretion, maybe he could put some of his own sentinels on guard duty.”

Azriel snorted. “You trust Eris?”

“It is better than nothing Azriel, what do you propose?” I asked, eyebrows high and tone bitter.

The Shadowsinger opened his mouth to reply but Rhys's voice cut him off before we got engaged in another fight yet again. "Let me deal with Eris. You go talk to them, learn whatever you can about what happened to them and report back. You two are stuck there until I sort it out with Eris. Lay low, no one can know of your presence other than the survivors. Be extremely careful."

We both nodded our agreement, not daring another word. I moved past Azriel to the door and he followed closely behind. I could feel his body heat almost enveloping me, he was way too close to be casual.

"If you're worried about what I told Rhysand, I left your name out of it. I took full responsibility for it.”

“Why?” He side-glanced at me. I shrugged.

“Because I’m tired of explaining myself. If you want to get into an argument with me then go ahead, I won’t bother with it. You can go tell him whatever you please.”

I couldn’t be bothered to try and hide the tiredness of my body and mind out of my face. Two whole centuries of this, insulting each other, hurting each other, it was enough. I’ll handle anything he decides to throw at me but I’m done fighting back.

Azriel, to my surprise, didn’t say anything as we walked into the open night.

The night sky had already settled around the city, covering it with its black and dark blue mantle of flickering stars. In my two hundred years of life I had never encountered a more beautiful sight than the one Velaris offered. The Day Court surely will be a huge change, away from everything, from my family and friends, from my favorite cafés and galleries, from the whisper of the quiet darkness that had accompanied me my whole life.

I tore my eyes away from it, ready to winnow; I could feel Azriel’s stare fixed on my face.

“I’ll fly us there.” He offered so low it could have been dragged away with the wind.

“There’s no need for that.”

“You’re tired. Better save some energy, just in case.”

I turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed, and could have mistaken the look on his eyes for concern if I didn’t know him any better. “What did you find there, Azriel?”

Hazel orbs moved to my left wrist, swift, smooth; I wrapped my hand around it almost unconsciously, and brought my arm to my chest, hiding it from his view.

“The females in the caravan, they have the same mark you have on your skin.”

The small crow that had been burned and scarred onto my wrist, branded. My back went rigid. It couldn’t be who I was thinking, that monster died that horrible night two centuries ago. It had to be an imitator, some kind of joke.

The shadowsinger placed a tentative hand on my elbow and brought me out of my own head. I yanked it back from his touch. “Let's go, I want to see it.” Was my only reply.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Azriel.

Your whole demeanor had changed the moment he brought up that hideous mark, a reminder of the haunting past. He didn’t have the full story but given your reaction, and the looks on those fae he had freed, it hadn’t been a personal choice.

Azriel felt bad for being an asshole to you earlier, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter an apology. He hadn’t always been like this, but it was already too late to take it back. You irritated him to no end, the way your scent would flow up his nose and never leave him, day and night it would invade his senses, clouding his mind with that unique water lilies and lemon zest smell of yours. And that big full mouth? always ready to retort to him. Nobody had ever possessed such an innate ability to get under his skin as easily as you did. It made him so mad he could tear at his own hair in frustration.

Still, deep down, Azriel knew that most of his anger wasn't of your doing, not on purpose at least. He would find the tiniest of excuses to keep you out and away from him, not being ready to face the full truth as to why you affected him so much. You always did. It was easier to just dislike you.

But in those extremely rare moments when you would let a sliver of a true emotion show around him, his resolve trembled. And the tightness he felt in his chest was much harder to ignore.

You were silent the whole flight to the Spring Court, something akin to pain haunted your eyes. He didn’t dare speak about it, but something in his stomach twisted at that look.

For the past hour or so he watched you silently as you talked to the females, inspecting them for injuries aside from the branding, asking them about their captors and being extremely patient with them. A little girl even came up to you, eyelashes wet with tears and begged you to find her mother. Azriel caught the way your face twisted into a grim, even if to the little girl you looked confident enough that you were gonna reunite her with her mother. She had clung to you for the rest of the night until she felt asleep.

You had a heart, and a kind soul beyond his comprehension, even if he wanted to convince himself that you didn't. It was a lie. He used to tell himself that you were nothing but Hewn City filth, that no one good could ever come out of that place and you would betray them all eventually. Yet there was Mor. And yet, you were here.

Mor, he hadn't thought about her in a while, not like he used to. He'd like to think the lovely doe-eyed female back home was somehow responsible for it...but he wouldn't dare dig into it much deeper. Somehow his mind always found a way to trick him, bringing thoughts about that other person he couldn't stand. It was not alright to compare.

Azriel snapped back to reality as you moved to approach him, leaving the little girl under the care of an elderly villager. Even in her slumber, she made grabby hands at your receding figure.

"She seemed kinda reluctant in letting you go." He observed. The barely there ghost of a smile tugged at your lips but it was short lived and maybe, just maybe, he could have imagined it. "I didn't know you had a soft spot for children."

You sighed softly, tiredly, as you walked beside him to your guarding spot for the night. He did notice the dark circles under your eyes, the way you tried and failed to keep your shoulders from sagging, and was about to offer to just take the guard himself when you spoke.

"Children are very rare, and precious. It is a blessing to be able to connect with them." Your voice, albeit quiet, was charged with emotion. He thought that was as far as the conversation would go, but you swallowed and after a couple of heartbeats in silence, you spoke again. "I had a little sister once. She reminded me of her."

Maybe it was the rawness and vulnerability of the current situation at hand that had you sharing a little bit with him. Maybe you were so exhausted that you couldn't stop the thoughts from spilling from your lips. Whatever it was, it also compelled him to listen.

"What happened?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

You gave him the saddest, tight lip smile he ever saw you wear and something tugged at his very core. "We were born at the wrong place."

He had judged you wrong, took you up for a cruel, dark creature, never once stopping to think about what you may have endured while you still lived at the Court of Nightmares. Azriel knew it was only a reflection of what he thought of himself.

He didn’t dare ask about the mark on your wrist, not yet. It felt too personal, and he doubted you would have shared it with him anyways.

"Listen about earlier..." He started an apology. Voice a little gruff.

But you cut him out, pinning him with an icy stare, took up the spot on the nearby tree, and didn't talk to him again.

Tag list:

@valeridarkness @hannzoaks @fall-myriad @goradgirl @cmay25

@feiwelinchen @katherine-2007 @anniebannanie0315 @cosmic-whispers @acotarxx

Hope I didn’t forget anyone. Thank you for reading :)

#azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #Azriel #azriel x you #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar series #acotar #rhys acotar #feysand #acowar

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anthrofreshtodeath · 9 months ago

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Long time no see! 😂

How about "slowly intertwining fingers while the other is driving" ?

It's been awhile! This one is kind of angst-lite.

___

Jane wants only to drive. She wants to rev the engine of her cruiser; she longs for the satisfaction that cutting and weaving through traffic gives her. It’s asshole behavior, she knows - but she’s an asshole. She relishes being an asshole, especially when she’s angry and especially when she’s been handcuffed, when someone bridles her rage and forces her to swallow it down.

Hope Martin and Paddy Doyle are quite good at that.

So are the guards at the maximum security prison she’s just left with Hope and Maura in tow, because they quite literally would have cuffed her if she’d leapt over the table to throttle Paddy like she’d wanted to. But Paddy, and Hope, know that fact intimately. And that’s why Hope waited to be forced to talk to Paddy. And why Paddy shut up about Hope. They knew the only safe place for them to see one another and still get Jane and Maura the information they needed was to do it in prison.

Because, like they surmised, Jane wants to kill the both of them. She wants to kill both of them with her bare hands and she wants to whip through the streets of Boston like a maniac and she can do neither.

Standstill traffic on the bridge back into the city.

It’s a one sentence horror-story to every Bostonian, really. But even more so to Jane today. Hope, coward that she is, has stayed completely silent in the backseat on the way into town, despite all the revelatory, criminal shit she shared in the interrogation room. Maura, saint that she is, also remains quiet, peering out the window of the passenger side while rain starts pelting it, sending periodic glances Jane’s way.

And Jane’s embarrassed by it, though she’d never say so out loud. It’s fucking embarrassing to have all this fire and nowhere to put it. To be so angry and to be so close to two confessed lawbreakers who repeatedly lied to and used their relationship with Maura to manipulate her and do nothing? Jane’s foot might punch a hole through the floor of the Crown Vic. All she can really do is shove her left leg against the driver’s side door, her knee up to the window, and squeeze the wheel until her knuckles blanche. Which means, on top of all the hellish shit she just endured, Maura now has to watch. She’s gotta make room for Jane’s mood. That makes Jane madder, more ashamed.

It reaches an apex when Maura resettles, apparently tired of counting raindrops, and releases a calming breath when her shoulders press against the padding of her seat - she lets the hand that had rested against her own face fall into her lap, and sneaks the other over to Jane’s on the console.

Jane’s brows furrow and she considers yanking herself away. More than wanting to wound, Maura shouldn’t have to do this. Hold onto her weakness like this, pacify this. But Jane stays, because Maura’s fingers wrap slowly around her own, and the touch is warm and sweet and hot all at once as the cold from the outside threatens to seep in.

So, Jane accepts the calming of the beast. Until, that is, Maura says something.

“I know you’ll never make me walk through those doors,” she says darkly to Jane, eyes stormy and assured. “You’ll never be the reason I go back.”

And then Jane realizes… their hands. Hope leans, is angled so that her gaze lines up right with their union. Maura speaks, her voice carrying toward the middle of the cab, so that Hope can hear. Jane understands that it isn’t placation at all - it’s a point. My relationship will never be as ugly and twisted as yours. Your relationship is and forever will be beneath mine. Maura has simply used Jane to make it.

Jane finds she likes being used much more than she likes being pitied. Even if she still wants to slap the bubble light on and burn through all the cars in front of them.

#lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #rizzoli and isles #otp prompts February 2024

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15-lizards · 2 years ago

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Giving you quotes based on the ASOIAF family you feel most connected to

Baratheon: “If you’re raised with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house. You will find him even when he is not there”- Catherine Lacey

“Isn’t all that rage so ugly? And isn’t it mine, still? Good god, isn’t it mine?”- Ashe Vernon

“There are teeth marks on everything he loves.”- Yusef Komunyakaa

Targaryen: “I am homesick for a place I am not even sure even exists. One where my heart is full. My body loved. My soul understood”- Melissa Cox

“The relief of giving in to destruction”-Franz Kafka

“I didn’t feel at home in life”- Anne Sexton

Greyjoy: “I was never a child / I was pulled right out of the sea / and the salt, it never left my body”- Chelsea Wolfe

“I’m abandoning everything! Everything! And that way I won’t be abandoned.”- Clarice Lispector

“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.”- George Orwell

Stark: “I want everything back, the way it was. But there is no point to it, to wanting.”- Margaret Atwood

“What I sometimes mistake for ecstasy is simply the absence of grief.”- Sarah Kane

“Suffering feels religious if you do it right”- Chelsea Hodson

Tully: “Memory is punishment.”- Frank Bidart

“I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.”- Emily Dickinson

“What cannot be said will be wept”- Sappho

Lannister: “Many things interested her, and nothing satisfied her entirely.”- Ivan Turgenev

“Mother / Eat me and give birth to me again/ This time around I’ll make you proud”- Maia Baia

“My rot is as hungry as me. & when God asks me about love, I will always respond with cruelty.”- Yves Olade

Martell: “You are addicted to what you cannot possess.”- Frank Bidart

“When are you gonna get over that? When When When?”- Kara Walker

“But he, that dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.”- Anne Brontë

Tyrell: “Come on, dance with me. The earth is spinning. We can’t just stand on it.”- Dino Ahmetović

“I never again shall tell you what I think. I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly.”- Edna St. Vincent Millay

“Lust is so inadequate, and loving exhausts me.”- Anne Sexton

#ASOIAF #game of thrones #one day I will web weave but for now here are some quotes #spent way too long on this #I Baratheon blogged and was inspired #so tragic so delicious #also no arryns cause it is so hard to catch a vibe from them I’m sorry

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stormtwaa-blog · 1 year ago

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just wrote a lil zelink bc of brainrot

conviction

I don’t know how to explain things in ways that make sense. In abstract equivalencies and callously worded metaphors, I can dance around the meaning forever. I guess…

It’s just hard being you.

Finding the courage to remain stalwart and committed to convictions I’ve long since forgotten. To bear the weight of expectation, and to brandish it with no hesitancy. To see in your piercing eyes, a calmness; a sense of understanding. At first I hated it. You would always stand by my side, so silently, the breeze would hide away even the sounds of your breaths. Shocks of blonde hair would slowly fade into the bleeding sunlight from the horizon, and I would find myself surprised each time the warmth in your hands would reach mine, always to help, always to protect.

But instead, I hid away from your reach. For each time you reached out, you would kneel, and each time I tried understanding your fierce silence, unspoken yet profoundly expressive, your eyes would turn away, and your golden hair seemed to mock me as you stared at the ground in deferent respect.

I was just the princess and you were my knight. You were Link to me, but…. What was I to you?

Your duty had always taken priority, you had dedicated your every breath to mastering the glinting blade by your back after all. Is that why then?

Is that why these ugly beasts reared their heads within me? This boiling anger which seemed to rage within me like a storm at sea. Your calm eyes seemed to mock me, calm waters in contrast to my own and my words grew coarser and more callous by the day, worsened no doubt, by the lack of confidence I had in not just my abilities but…. Honestly, in the worth of my character.

You still stayed however. By obligation, or by choice, I could not ascertain, as I hadn’t yet heard your voice nor seen past your perfect defence.

However, I realised that day, when you stood silently before me, the blood curdling cries of the Yiga soldiers ringing in my ears, that regardless of the motivation behind your commitment, it was driven by real principles; a real person. And your dedication to keeping me safe was genuine. Though I had yet to understand its purpose, I started to see colours between the shades of grey I had acquainted with your each action; quirks in each small expression.

The way you would soothe your steed with a small self-satisfied smirk, the way your eyes would turn to faraway places when polishing your blade, reminiscing about people I’d loved to have known. You would listen to me talk, finally having learnt to hold my tongue from spouting spiteful jealousy, and in feigning understanding, or in trying very sincerely to emulate it, would try and bring me things you’d deemed relevant to my research.

Really you were just so sincere.

And I think that’s what changed things for me, anyway. To know one’s legacy isn’t burdensome should you find a way to carve it out in your own way. To find something to fight for that would place principle above passion.

I guess that day, in the rain-stricken nightmare that befell Hyrule, seeing that bright blue tunic sullied with mud, mixed in with a shade of crimson that made the breath leave my lungs….

I raised my hand in one desperate attempt to prevent your feeble grip from holding your sword one last time.

And I would do it again and again if I needed to. 100 years now and 100 years again.

For you always reminded me that courage need not be remembered as it is never forgotten.

And I had to make sure that that legacy remained.

Tysm for reading!!! I really wanted to mention that the beautiful line about courage was actually from an absolutely amazing zelink video here:

youtube

#zelink #zelda botw #botw link #botw #fanfic #Youtube #loz totk #totk fanfic

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crows-and-crumbs · 10 months ago

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My oc Dog, because I’ve been writing a lot about him recently, and I saw that post of anger quotes that made me think if my own little seething guy

He’s so unbelievably special to me

Quotes;

“Anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt” - Unknown (let me know if any of you know)

“Isn’t all that rage so ugly? And isn’t it mine, still? Good god isn’t it mine?” - Ashe Vernon, from “Buried,” Not A Girl

“Rage. Maybe rage would lift me up, make me stand, make me walk.” - Marlon James, from “Black Leopard, Red Wolf”

#oc art #digital art #original character #my art #my oc art #original character art #my oc #art wip #original art #character design #quotes #anger quotes

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jonmcbrine-author · 4 months ago

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The Fandom Game

I’m not that kind of nerd…”

I like to say this when it comes to repairing equipment like computers or knowing how to write code. If it is more of a technical skill or a problem that requires practical knowhow, then, well, I’m not that kind of nerd. If you want useless sci-fi trivia and deep-seated opinions on superhero costumes, then I am the dork you are looking for. When it comes to video games, I am definitely an outlier.

Not possessing any talent for playing games from any generation’s console isn’t the only reason why I am not a gamer. The hardware and downloadable content can get expensive, but the cost is only a partial factor for my gaming negligence. Like so many things in life, it comes down to time and the lack thereof.

Gaming continues to develop its own broad subculture, and like any major form of entertainment, video games are varied among not just genres, but fandoms as well. When I was kid, of course I played. My gaming habits dwindled as I entered my late-twenties and gradually evaporated further as I crossed into my thirties. Now in my forties, playing something as simple as solitaire on my phone doesn’t interest me. I don’t feel superior to gamers, but the fact remains that when I do have recreational time, it is never a choice of mine to fire up the gaming console. The older PlayStation in my home mainly serves as a way to stream series and movies - and that’s the machine gets activated at all.

A lack of spare time plagues many people, and it is true that the older you get, the less interested you are in the hobbies of one’s youth. This is the case for me, but the video game industry is still producing games and content. The video game business takes its wins and losses like any other, but the gaming community remains active and steadfast. They certainly don’t need me, though I like to think I’d be welcome. But would I actually be, though?

It’s very easy to focus on the ugliness of a fandom. Comment sections and forums are rife with negativity, and the nasty gatekeepers seem to be the most prevalent. On any end of the gaming fandom spectrum, there will be bitterness and rage, so it is not difficult to be turned off and ignore the whole thing. Despite this, I have a curiosity about what goes on in the gaming universe despite not playing myself (it’s not too far of a stretch since my appearance is that of a standard nerd). This peripheral interest is nurtured by what my social media feeds think I want to see. Even my digital presence is misconstrued as a gamer.

Dipping your toe into a new fandom can always be daunting, so what is it about gaming that feels so unwelcome? Especially when I have a preexisting fascination? Perhaps feeling like an uninvited outsider isn’t accurate. Numerous gaming communities and channels are fun and operated by friendly folks who encourage noobs to join in. The unappealing element of gaming belongs to anything that makes seem not fun.

I don’t expect to enter any new fandom thinking I am familiar with every nuance that exists within lores as well as the history of the subculture. A casual scroll through X showcases several hot takes by gamers displaying their thoughts on the app formerly known as Twitter. There is an abundance of accounts posting what at least seem to impulsive opinions on a character’s appearance or how they are used in a story. Welcome to the Internet, right? I’m not even going into the whole “toxic” territory. Frankly, it doesn’t matter much which sect of fans it is or where their extreme views come from. Eventually, it all becomes, well, not fun.

A legion of nerds with bad taste isn’t exactly a new phenomenon or enough to dissuade me from simply trying something new. Board games, films, television series, sports, comic books - no fandom is immune to the eye-roll-inducing cringe-base that seem like they are only around to purposely turn off potential newcomers. Again, you’d think it’s day two of my online journey and I’m just now discoveries that meanies log in and tweet out things other than kittens and fluffy pillows. What I’ve deduced after considering so many similarities shared by multiple forms of entertainment is that yes, there will be unpleasant people who “well actually” folks while they themselves need to be well-actually’d - and sure, I will disagree with the majority of my my fellow fans other opinions - but the bottom line is, I only have so much bandwidth.

In my early forties, there isn’t enough motivation to shoehorn yet another obsessive pop culture hobby thing into my already taxed fan-brain.

Play on to those that play. I’m sure the gaming universe will continue just fine without this kind of nerd.

Stay in the loop for more details by following Jonfiction Blog on Substack and be sure to check out jonmcbrine.com for more info about this and all my books.

Unsecret Identity: Eric Icarus - Book One is available now from the Amazon Kindle store.

https://a.co/2XAtxvH

New blog every Monday. Newsletter first Monday

#fiction #booklr #books and reading #book blog #indie author #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #novel #reading #author #gaming #gamers of tumblr #gamer #gamerlife #fan #fandom #gatekeeping #blog

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bittenfms · 2 years ago

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─── 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 ! welcome to forks, rosie ! we look forward to seeing you around town, and do hope nothing bad happens to bree tanner, maria + felix . please ��go through the checklist and send in your account within twenty-four hours or your role will be reopened !

⟨ – taylor russell, cis woman, she/her. ⟩ it seems like bree tanner has been seen around town, humming cherry coloured funk by cocteau twins under their breath. apparently they are a 23 year old human. townsfolk whisper about them being seraphic and assiduous, but also fickle and mendacious. the motel housekeeper / bowling alley clerk has been in town for just under a month, and gives off the vibes of an ache somewhere deep in your belly for something unknown / when charles bukowski wrote ‘and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want what do you call it, freedom or loneliness?’, thorn-marred knees sinking ever so slowly into the glacial embrace of a placid lake / lost recollections of how you’ve come to the water but oh isn’t the call of the wet soil and sunken dead branches so divine?, nightmares from a past life that awaken your body in a violent and sudden heave / names said like a hushed prayer to comfort a mind all turbulent thoughts and bloody memories. ( penned by rosie, twenty5, she/her, cst. )

⟨ – lizeth selene, demi woman, she/they. ⟩ it seems like maria has been seen around town, humming nocturne no. 21 in c minor by chopin under their breath. apparently they are a 24 / 319 year old vampire. townsfolk whisper about them being sybilline and astute, but also parlous and unscrupulous. they’re a member of the mexican coven, and they give off the vibes of the tar-thick feeling of the air as a thunderstorm approaches and everywhere you look is dark and filled with a sort of unrelenting fury like an omen given by some wrathful old testament god to the faithless, rotten girlhood as antecedent to monsterhood and teetering along the cusp of sanity / when margaret atwood wrote “there’s something off about that girl. borderline. any little shock could push her right over the edge”, the loneliness of a cruel winter night and how hollow the body feels as december claws itself inside the carcass of a life mourned, a life forgotten. ( penned by rosie, twenty5, she/her, cst. )

⟨ – park seojoon, cis man, he/him. ⟩ it seems like felix has been seen around town, humming valse sentimentale op. 51 no. 6 by tchaikovsky under their breath. apparently they are a 34 / unknown year old vampire. townsfolk whisper about them being sycophantic and debonair, but also mephistophelian and tenebrific. they’re a member of the volturi, and they give off the vibes of blood as it runs down a cracked porcelain visage and that painfully lovely smile... oh how beautiful it looks accompanied by fresh crimson stains and tribulations of slaughter and debauchery, how the moon rises at dusk and paints the sky a great abyss / how the chastity of twilight is mutilated and warped (metamorphosis that promises the grotesque from something once beautiful and pure like monsterhood, like boyhood), a rage so glacial and hollow and ugly — and isn’t it mine, still? good god, isn’t it mine? oh, how this cruelty has clawed itself so deep within raw flesh and made more monster than man, more venom and ruination and bedlam. ( penned by rosie, twenty5, she/her, cst. )

#appless rp #twilight rp #oc rp #supernatural rp #spn rp #dark rp #town rp #bitten.accepted

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years ago

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I would really like an Andy Barber part 3, with him grieving seeing his ex-wife with Ari and finding out about the pregnancy she missed.

hi! thank you for sending this, I hope you like it.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 2

summary - we see Andy's pov of everything.

warning - trigger warning - miscarriage, drinking and mentions of cheating.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

-𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑-

“Where the fuck are you going?” Andy growls, sipping his beer while Stacy stands by the front door, bags packed. She rolls her eyes. “I’m leaving. This isn’t fun anymore, Andy. And all you do now is sit around and drink, so I’m gonna go.” She chucks the keys down before turning and walking out the door. Andy storms after her and grabs her by her arm.

“You can’t just leave, you stupid slut.” His breath smelt like beer as he sneered.

“Andy! Andy! Let me go! You're hurting me! OW” Stacy struggles to get out of Andy's grip. She staggers back, looking at him in disbelief. A bruise had formed on her hand. She quickly grabs her bags and runs to her car, stuffing everything in before zooming off. Never to be seen again.

“YOU BETTER FUCKING RUN, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” The people in the neighbourhood that poked their heads out shook their heads. Wondering what the hell happened, “What?! What are you all fucking looking at?!” Andy shakes his head, swearing like a sailor, as he storms back into his house, slamming the door shut.

Andy spies a photo frame with a picture of him and his wife. He growls, grabbing it and throwing it. The frame smashes into the wall, glass shattering into tiny little pieces. The photo inside is still intact. He glares at the happy couple in the picture, feeling angry. He hates how they look, hates that you had to look like that on your wedding day. Andy slowly walks towards the photo.

He was staring down at the picture, feeling rage. ‘How dare you leave him. You had no right,’ you’ll come back. No one could love someone like you.

He walks back over to the couch, picking up his beer and taking a huge gulp.

–𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 – 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒-

Andy sits in his office, scowling at all the paperwork that has built up. Andy was pissed but also regretful, seeing you show up at what once was both of your home, with his brother by your side. Well, he saw red, how could you go to his brother? Turn him against his own flesh and blood? Sure on the outside, he was pissed but inside, he was heartbroken. He was especially seeing how you reacted to each other like you were two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together.

There’s a knock at his office door, “what” he snaps. The person on the other side nervously opens the door. “Um, Mr Barber…. There’s someone to see you.” He looks up from his paperwork, and he raises an eyebrow. “Well, who is it?” The newest assistant gulps, scared of the man in front of her. “Your mother, sir.” Andy groans before saying to let her in.

Pushing the paperwork aside, he straightens out his tie before leaning back. The door opens again, and his mother appears. An unpleasant smile plastered on her face, greeting her son before she sat. “What do I owe you the pleasure, mother?”

Andy’s mother looks around the place with a permanent sneer. “So, where is this whore, you let destroy your marriage?” Andy rolls his eyes, “ah, that’s right. She left you, right? Your brother did mention something about the house being empty.” Andy groans, rubbing his face.

“Did you come in here for any specific reason? Or did you just come to let me know how horrible of a husband I was? I mean, why is no one telling Y/n how bad of a wife she was that made me cheat? Huh?! Why am I the fucking bad guy?! Fucking fat ugly whore.” He growls the last part more to himself.

“.....So you don’t know. That’s a first.” His mother looks at her son and is disappointed that he turned out like his father.

“Go ahead, mother. What don’t I know?” His eyes roll for the second time today, and there’s silence for a while as his mother thinks of the best way to bring this up, knowing it’s not hers to tell but also knowing you didn’t know how and Ari wouldn’t let you. She had to agree with her eldest, knowing that if Andy was exactly like his father that you shouldn’t be the one to tell him.

“Well, my dear son. You’re “fat” ex-wife was pregnant. That night you came home and ruined everything she was going to tell you.” She watches Andy's face change from arrogance to disbelief before anger sets in. But then he furrows his brows. “What do you mean, was?” His mother looks down, playing with her fingers.

Before she looks up and stares Andy in his eyes, “she had a miscarriage.” Tears form in Andy’s eyes as the regret and heartbreak set in. His mouth drops open, “what…?” His mother nods before standing, “well, I must be off. I’ve been invited to lunch with your brother and Y/n.”

As she leaves, Andy sits there. Tears fall, thinking back to how you placed your hand on your stomach when he yelled at you. He thought it was because he called you fat and you felt insecure, but now he knows… You were trying to protect your child, his child, from him. A gasp leaves his lips as a panic attack appears, realising he’s all alone and that no one will be there for him.

-𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑-

It’s been a few months since everything, and Andy has been drinking more. Barely sleeping, barely eating, he has bags under his eyes. He smells like a liquor store as Andy sits at home, staring at a blank screen while drinking his beer. Andy hears his phone ping, looking over and seeing the screen lit. He reaches over groggily.

Andy squints his eyes as he looks at his phone screen, his heart starts to beat rapidly at the notification he reads.

!𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑨𝑹𝑰 𝑳𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝒀/𝑵 𝑳/𝑵!

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 45-𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓-𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑨𝒓𝒊 𝑳𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒔 28-𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓-𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅, 𝒀/𝒏 𝑳/𝒏.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚! 𝑭𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄.

𝑹𝑺𝑽𝑷

**********

Andy stared at the screen for 10 minutes before throwing his phone. He heard it hit the wall and smash into little pieces while he stared into space.

His world was crashing around him, and it was all his fault.

-𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆-

Andy didn’t go to the engagement party, and he didn’t even send congratulations to them. He went out, got more alcohol and drank, but now the date for the wedding came up. He got the invitation, he didn’t want to go, but Andy decided he may as well, seeing as your marrying his brother.

On the day of the wedding, he got ready and snuck in. Sitting at the back and regretting every second of it, he regrets cheating and needing more. The moment his eyes lock onto yours, he regrets it all. But he can’t go back. He fucked up too much.

As you both said your vows, tears rolled down his face as he recalled your wedding day and the vows you said to him and him you. He remembers he promised never to be unfaithful because that was always a fear of yours when it came to a relationship, and Andy broke that, all because he was the dumbest guy alive, and now he has to watch his brother get the girl.

-𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘-

Andy thought he drank a lot after everything that had happened, but when news broke about you being pregnant and with Ari’s baby. Andy broke inside even more. He felt his heart cracking. Andy was slowly slipping away. He hadn’t shaved in over a year, barely taking care of himself.

His older brother is taking Andy’s place. He was going to be the husband and father Andy never could be.

Whatever was left to be destroyed in the once happy home was smashed to pieces. Due to the anger that hit, Andy couldn’t do this anymore.

-𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃-

Andy sits in his car, watching the happy couple run around their yard. The female is glowing, the baby bump showing through the sundress she’s wearing. The man behind her is chasing her, with a big smile on both faces. Andy watches as the man catches the woman, and love is shared between them, the shared kisses, the loving hugs. He watches as the man and woman head towards their house and out the front door.

A basket in the woman’s hand, before she gets in, she stops. Before turning to him, her eyes connected with his for a while. Andy stops breathing. The woman sends him a small smile before getting into the car and driving away.

A tear rolled down his cheek as Andy was filled with heart-wrenching regret. The only thought that was stuck in his mind was.

‘Why did he need more?’

-𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃-

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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voidb0und · 2 years ago

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Hello, I am thinking about Shadowbringers and how it was the first time since Adra's childhood that Adrasteia & Rhamnusia were completely separated throughout a big event. She doesn't hold it against G'raha or the others, she understands her duty as the Warrior of (Light) Darkness, but being unable to rely on Ram during that time? Only being able to see Ram when she travelled back to the source? Having to put away her scythe and fall back on her red magicks because she couldn't access any of her reaper abilities? How the distance and the loneliness despite having the Scions with her still would've eaten at her? None of Ram's voice or emotions there to calm her or to keep her stable throughout the entire journey, especially when the light poisoning started getting to her and she truly thought she was going to die. How that fear of being separated again lingers, how worse her fear of dying alone has grown.

it hurts to think about.

#death mention #✧ ⥼ — about. ❝ isn’t all that rage so ugly? and isn’t it mine still?

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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Brothers Finding Out a Lesser Demon with a Crush is “Moving In” on MC

You know, I like to show the good sides of our boys a lot… But how about the ugly for today? Let's let them just being mean, nasty, possessive little demons, huh?

Full disclaimer: I almost didn’t post this because I received an answer post from @diavolosthots that ended up being distressingly similar to this idea about 3/4th of the way through drafting it. I’m posting it anyway because of the time I’ve already sunk into it but in exchange I will absolutely encourage you to read from @diavolosthots if you aren’t already. They’re a big reason why I’m making content to begin with and I love what they’ve done. Warning: their blog is a LOT less fluffy than mine (they probably wouldn't be into my stuff 😅) and has NSFW content so be prepared for that going in. If that’s not your thing then just give them a pass, cool?

Check out the Masterlist for more!

Warnings: Violence, Bullying, Cyberbullying, Cannibalism(?), Murder, Yandere-ish

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Lucifer

Is honestly offended for them.

Don’t they know the caliber of demon MC rubs elbows with every day? Do they honestly think they’d stand a chance? Any one of his brothers would be more deserving than some lesser demon suitor and that even INCLUDES Mammon.

But of course, the real reason they’d stand no chance is because he wants the MC too and he’s not planning on sharing with or losing to someone who isn’t even worthy to be stuck under his boot...

He may lay down some… “discreet” hints for the poor demon to look elsewhere.

Things like advising Diavolo to make some emergency changes to the classes at RAD so they no longer share any class together or watching the demon extra closely for any minute slip up he can flag them for. If he could have them expelled for a dress code violation, he’d do it no sweat.

Okay, "discreet hints…" Flagrant misuses of power… Same difference right?

He may never come right out and say they should leave MC alone (why dignify the guy with such a response?) but if looks could kill then his “competition” would be utterly decimated by now. Especially if he ever catches the two in the same room... Yikes.

Mammon

Oooo buddy, he ain’t happy. He doesn’t even like sharing with his brothers and now some rando wants a piece too?? Nuh-uh. No way.

Takes the more direct approach and just confronts the guy when the MC isn’t around. It's good for the demon that Mammon doesn’t like resorting to violence if he doesn’t have to. Heated words and a threat or two will be exchanged then they can go their separate ways.

That can be the end of it if the guy backs off (as anyone with sense should). But if not…

When he makes a threat, and he’s serious about it, Mammon makes good on them.

He’ll come back to the House one night a little beat up, maybe with a few nicks and scratches. Of course he’ll want the MC to play nurse for him and he’ll be delighted if they accept (even if his tsundere ass won’t say it).

The lesser demon apparently dropped out of RAD the next day. No explanation given. He didn’t even step foot back on the school grounds to do it...

Of course, everyone’s sure there’s no relation between the two. I mean, this is the same Mammon we’re talking about… right...?

Leviathan

It’s a miracle he even found out but now that he knows he’s pissed. He’s not the Avatar of Envy for nothing.

Look, he might be a shut-in and not worth all that much but he’s got to be better than some lesser demon guy! He’s the third born and he has a freaking navy for crying out loud!!

Will likely leave his room for the first time in who knows how long to follow the MC to RAD. Once he’s got a face to the name, that’s all he needs for his hatred to really get going...

He will make this dude’s life a living hell with the best tool a shut-in has, the Internet.

He’ll dedicate a freaking week to digging up dirt on this bozo then start releasing it out to everywhere he frequents. Not a single sock of that dirty laundry is getting left out. All of his most embarrassing secrets are laid bare for the Devildom to see.

He’d cover his tracks, of course, so nothing can be traced back to him. The MC is probably none-the-wiser to who’s spreading all this hot gossip but his brothers know right away.

Once the dude’s social life and pride are in utter ruin, he’ll invite the MC over for a movie marathon to celebrate! He might even get a little more cuddly than usual... His MC is with him and that’s how it ought to be.

Satan

Pffft… That’s cute. Real cute they think they stand a chance. He’d wish them luck but he also kind of wants to stab them so…

On the one hand, he knows he probably shouldn’t waste his time but on the other he just can’t resist the call to absolute devastation that his inner rage is forcing on him...

His new goal is to utterly undermine the new competition in every way, mental and physical, which means he will take every opportunity he can to demonstrate just how much on another level he is.

Gets nitpicky and corrects the guy’s every move. If he says something wrong in class, he’ll berate him for it. Make a social faux pas? Well now the whole school is going to know about it.

Doesn’t stop there, though. He will do everything in his power short of throwing the first punch to try and instigate a fight with the him. He knows that if he technically starts it then the punishment will be on him, but the other way around he can say, “Hey, he’s the one who punched Wrath incarnate. What was he expecting would happen?”

Any resulting fight between the two would be a very one-sided bloodbath. He will not hold back at all and stop when he damn well feels like. The guy will be in whatever the Devildom equivalent to a hospital is for weeks...

If the MC tries to ask him about his behavior, he’ll gaslight them and change the subject. He doesn’t really like indulging in the more violent side of himself in his day-to-day life but some things just can’t be helped, can they?

Asmodeus

Honestly not as bothered as the others are. He knows they stand zero chance, so why worry? It’s bad for the skin.

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to sit back and do nothing. Oh no, a zero chance could always become a one, even five percent chance if you’re not careful.

Asmo’s preferred method of ridding competition is like a mixture of Satan and Levi, but Oh. So. Much. Worse.

Lesser demons can be astonishingly easy to charm without them noticing and he is the best charmer of the family. He’s pretty popular to start with but suddenly he’s talking to almost everyone he comes across until, well, he’s got the whole school listening.

From there it’s child’s play. Suddenly, the demon’s friends won’t talk to them. People stare and whisper about them in the hallways, is what they’re saying true? Doesn’t matter. Asmo could feed them anything and they’d believe it.

He’ll make sure they feel isolated, alone, and hated by everyone they speak to and they won’t even know why. Going to RAD at all will be like walking into a prison. Ideally, they’ll just stop going, and then tada! Competition no more.

Of course, he could just charm the competitor to look elsewhere, but then who’s going to be the example to the others? Nobody needs any more “Zero-Chancers” popping up around the MC, right? You’re welcome, sweetie~! 😘

Beelzebub

He’s trying not to be that guy, he really is… but since the MC is involved… Really? You actually think you got a shot there, buddy?

Probably going to be the brother most likely to try and let the guy down gently at first, but make no mistake he will make sure he knows it’s a lost cause.

If the other demon still insists on being a competitor though… Alright.

MC pretty much goes under his “protection” from that point on. If they’re at RAD at all, Beel is not far behind. Not exactly looking outright intimidating but always just…. there.

But if the dude so much as enters a room with them he’ll be sure to stare him down and mention that he’s hungry a little louder and a lot more often.

To the MC that may just be typical Beel, but everyone else there knows Beel has swallowed lesser demons whole in the past. And for a lot less reason than this...

When Beel gets territorial he can be a subtle about it, but terrifying nonetheless.

Belphegor

Would laugh in their face and give zero shits about it.

Like, even as the weakest sibling he could snap them like a toothpick and that’s not even getting to how they probably know jack all about the MC anyway. What even is this idiot??

Starts pulling some casual “pranks” on the guy to grief him at first. Little things like tripping him up with his tail or taking his things and hiding them in inconvenient places.

The lazy part of him hopes he’ll get the message and back off but that sadistic side really hopes he doesn’t so he’ll never talk to him directly...

When, of course, the dude doesn’t back off because he doesn't know he's supposed to, his pranks start escalating. A textbook in the school pool suddenly becomes an explosive curse put on their backpack. A kind of homicidal passive-aggression, if you will.

By some unholy miracle the guy manages to last a couple days after a barrage of progressively lethal murder attempts pranks, Belphie’s inner laziness and frustration will finally get to him and he’ll cut the passive from his aggression.

Much like with Mammon, everyone finds out that the demon dropped out of school quite suddenly. But he’s also seemed to have gone dark from all his socials and his friends can’t seem to find him anywhere...

Concerns were raised with Lucifer but he doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about starting an investigation... It’s not the first time he’s covered for his brothers after all. 🙄🤷‍♀️

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons

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soracities · 4 years ago

Note

hey, do you have any writing about feeling anger? im going thru it rn and i figured id ask

“Anger is a bitter lock. But you can turn it.”

— Anne Carson, “Hokusai”

“Isn’t all that rage so ugly? / And isn’t it mine, still? / Good god, isn’t it mine?”

— Ashe Vernon, “Buried”

— Khadija Queen, “Theory; Evidence of uncertain shifts”

“A strange rage filled her, a rage to tear things asunder.”

— D.H. Lawrence, The Rainbow

“I bide time,/ Horse-tongued & blue as poison, the double / Line of my eyes gone to slits. I hate like a tooth hurts, / At the root”

— Jane Yeh, “Revenger’s Tragedy”

“Give me blood and rage and a heart for horror; teach me to be tough enough to face this world still standing. Make a Fury of me.”

— Elizabeth Hewer, “Finding Ariadne”

— mahogany l. browne, “litany”

“They tell me, shaking their heads: ‘You should be kinder. You are somehow furious.’ I used to be kind. It didn’t last long.”

— Yevgeny Yevtushenko, “Fury”

“The rage in women is terrifying. The rage in Hester Swane is terrifying. The rage doesn't come out of nowhere. The rage comes out of being said no to just one time too many, where you should have been said yes to, if the world was fair [...] and if society is always saying no to you, that rejection has to go somewhere. It turns dark, it erupts.”

— Marina Carr, “How Wonderful to Burn Down the Whole World”

“I was a girl. I was juniper or magnolia, all violet and rage.”

— Lorna Dee Cervantes, ‘Before You Go’,

“I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”

— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“Two eyes the colour of anger, a ring of cold, a belt of blood — “

— Octavio Paz, “Central Park”

— Beth Fein, “Philomela,”

“Do you know what it is to dance with rage? That’s what I do inwardly again and again.

— Henry Miller, letter to Hoki Tokuda Miller

“MEDEA : Anger, the spring of all life’s horror, masters my resolve.”

— Euripides, Medea

“A savage desire for strong emotions and sensations burns inside me: a rage against this soft-tinted, shallow, standardized and sterilized life, and a mad craving to smash something up, a department store, say, or a cathedral, or myself.”

— Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf

“Is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name?”

— Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

“Anger has its place. Anger has fire, and fire moves things.”

— Nina Simone

#hope you come through this soon anon x #quotes about x #quote compilation

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calpalirwin · 3 years ago

Text

The Falcon and the Newlyweds

Summary: After Steve travels back in time to reunite you and Bucky, he retires as Captain America, but you’re just getting started. (aka exactly like TFATWS but better?)

A/N: All credits to original owners/writers of TFATWS series. Added details/characters and minor storyline changes are of my own imagination.

Word Count: 6.2k

And away, and away we go!

Episode 5

When Sam suggested the three of you go find John, you shook your head vehemently. “No. No, I don’t want to,” you whispered.

“Doll, we’re afraid we’re gonna hurt him, too,” Bucky admitted.

You still continued to shake your head. “I-I’m not worried about us… I-”

“Oh…” Bucky said in sad realization. “Oh, doll. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He lost control, and I think even he knows that. He’s still the idiot we hate. And yeah, by the looks of it he managed to snag a vial of the serum, which makes him like me now.” Bucky shuddered at the thought. “But someone needs to find him.”

“I don’t want to…”

“That’s okay. Sam and I can go. We can take you back to the apartment, and then Sam and I can go.”

“No. Bucky you can’t go.”

“I’m not letting Sam go by himself.”

You looked over at Sam, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Look, Y/N. I know you saw an ugly side to John. I get that fear. Okay? I do. Buck used to scare me the way John just scared you. But Buck’s right. Someone has to find him, and it’s better if we do it. And look, throughout all of this, have Buck and I ever let you get close to getting hurt?”

“No…”

“Exactly. And if it makes you feel better, Buck and I will do the talking. Just come with us so we know you’re not alone. Please?”

“Okay,” you finally nodded. “But please don’t fight him if you don’t have to.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that, much less agree with it,” Bucky tried to joke. “Sam, you still got Sharon tracking him?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

~~~

Sam led the way to a building that was closed off for construction, easily locating John inside. “Walker,” Sam started.

“You guys should see a medic,” John interrupted. “You don’t look so good.” Long gone was the high and mighty tone he usually addressed you all with. His tone was also void of any attitude or malice. It was chilling to see him looking and sounding so void.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam started again, as John started to walk past you all.

“What?” he scoffed, the attitude and raised voice coming out. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John,” Bucky said simply, keeping his own tone calm to not anger the other man, and cause another outburst of rage. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Sage advice from one previously unhinged super soldier to a currently unhinged one.

“I’m not like you,” John insisted.

Bucky gave a sad shake of his head, and you gripped his hand in yours reassuringly. If John didn’t want to listen to someone who’d been where’d he’d been, and under much worse conditions, that was on John, not Bucky.

“Listen,” Sam stepped in. “It was the heat of the battle, okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. John, you gotta give me the shield, man.”

Slow realization swept across John’s face. “Oh… so that’s what this is. You almost got me. I should’ve known when she didn’t have any smartmouthed remarks for me.” His gaze swept over you, chillingly so.

“Mistakes happen,” you said, your voice quiet. “Let them help you so this doesn’t get worse.”

“You don’t wanna do this,” John said, his attention back on Bucky and Sam.

“Yeah, we do,” Bucky responded.

There was a momentary pause as Bucky and Sam looked at each other, and nodded. In a swift movement, Bucky guided you backwards with his arm, then advanced on John with Sam.

Two against one, you watched as Bucky and Sam tried to outfight John, punches and kicks flying in every direction, vibranium fist colliding with vibranium shield. You pressed yourself against a wall, making yourself as small as possible, heart hammering in your chest as you watched the scene unfold.

Any fear you had turned to blood boiling rage when John chucked the shield, nailing Bucky in the chest as sending him crashing backwards as John advanced, Sam lying on the floor from a hit he’d taken.

“Why are you making me do this?!” you heard John scream as he pressed the shield into Bucky, pinning him between the metal and construction vehicle. He grabbed the shield that Bucky had a firm grip on, throwing Bucky sideways across the warehouse.

Seeing red, you quietly reached down to pull out a knife. Aside from the shootout in Madripoor, you never needed to use any of the weapons strategically placed throughout your suit. And despite everything, you didn’t actually want to shoot John, mostly at the risk of missing and hitting either Bucky or Sam. But while John wasn’t exactly in stabbing range, and you weren’t all that amped to get into stabbing range, you could throw it.

With a slow breath, you adjusted the sharp steel in your hand. You took aim, chucking the knife with as much accuracy and force as you could, watching as the blade hurled end over end before sinking into John’s upper thigh, at the very convenient time that Sam flew straight into him. “This isn’t you, John,” Sam breathed heavily as both men stood face to face.

“We could’ve been a team…”

Not liking the way John didn’t appear ready to give up, Sam launched a rope that locked into the shield, engaging in a weirdly combative game of tug of war.

John lost his grip, and the rope came loose, the shield clattering against the ground. If you were fast enough, you could reach out and snag it. But with Bucky still on the ground himself, Sam holding back John for you didn’t inspire much confidence. Especially when both men dove for the shield themselves. But when Sam tackled John away from grabbing it, both men rolling further away from you, and the shield, you took your chance.

“I. Am. Captain America!” John screamed as he pinned Sam down, ripping Sam’s wings off his suit.

“No, you’re not!” you said, charging into John with the shield with all your might. John’s body rolled off Sam’s, and yours rolled with the shield, clinging on to it for all you were worth as you and John both staggered to your feet. “Shit,” you breathed with a happy grin. “That was cool!” Then, your eyes went wide, before you screwed them shut, raising the shield the block John advancing on you. “SHIT!” you screamed, bracing for impact.

The impact however, never came as Bucky jumped into action at the sound of your voice, raining blows down on John. “Don’t! You! Fuckin’! Touch! Her!” Each yelled word was a new hit, as Bucky fought John away from you.

“It’s mine,” John panted like a child who was being forced to share his favorite toy against his will.

“It’s over, John,” Sam told him.

“It’s mine!” John snarled, taking a swing at Bucky.

Bucky blocked it, grabbing the back of John’s neck with his vibranium hand, and punching him in the face with his other hand. “Y/N, shield!” Sam ordered.

Not needing to be told twice, you tossed Sam the shield as Bucky picked up John, and slammed him into the shield, the force of the impact sending all three men crashing to the floor in a chorus of groaned grunts of pain, the shield lying uselessly on the ground once more.

Bucky was the first to recover, grabbing the shield, and rising to his feet. Wordlessly, he walked over to Sam, dropping it next to him. The look on Bucky’s face said more than his mouth ever could, the anger that he had helped Sam get a shield he’d given up so easily needing no reason to be physically voiced. “C’mon, doll,” he said simply, turning and walking out of the building, leaving John and Sam where they lay.

“We’re not gonna leave Sam here, are we?” you asked in a whisper, jogging to keep up with your husband.

“Right now? Yes.”

“Bucky… It’s been a long day. And I know you still have your issues about Sam and the shield, and what it all means to you. But it’s Sam. He’s our friend, and partner whether you want him to be, or not.”

“I know,” Bucky answered you through gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m only leaving him for right now. Now, let’s talk about you, and what you did.”

You sighed. “What? Are you gonna yell at me about how I should have kept my distance? How you and Sam told me not to engage with John, and how I didn’t even want to go in there in the first place, so I’m completely batshit for doing what I did? That I could have gotten hurt, or worse? I know all that, Bucky. So please, spare me the lecture.”

“That was half of it, yes…” he admitted. “But what you did was also incredibly smart, and got Sam the shield.”

You shrugged. “I just got mad, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but it got Sam the shield. And it potentially saved us too. John was… That’s not a fight I’m eager to have again, that’s for damn sure. Between that fight and the one earlier… Knowing that you’re okay, and Sam probably physically feels worse than I do right now is really the only thing helping me feel somewhat okay right now.”

“Well, let’s get back to the apartment, and I’ll patch you up like old times.”

Bucky smiled fondly at long buried memories. “Mmm. Nurse Y/N. I always liked her.”

~~~

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli,” Sam reported over breakfast the next morning. “But so far, they only found her followers. They’ve searched a camp nearby, and just like the last camp they searched, nothing. She’s gone. We’ll never find her.”

“Hey, you got your sleeve back,” Torres’ voice chirped as he walked into the living room, and you wondered briefly where he’d come from, but you figured he probably arrived when Sam did, and given him the full run down of the GRC’s movements, much like Sam was giving you and Bucky now. Torres pointed at Bucky’s left jacket sleeve, once again reattached to the jacket he was wearing. “No? Yeah… okay then…” Torres said to no one in particular as Bucky stood there in silence, with his trademark stoic stare.

Still silent, and clearly still angry with Sam, Bucky turned on his heel to exit the room. “Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam wondered.

“Alright, good to know you survived,” Torres chipped again in a goodbye of sorts as Bucky stalked off down the hallway.

“He’ll come around,” you said as a half-assed apology for Bucky. “He’s… ya know. So, what else do we need to know about the Karli situation? Or the John one?”

Sam shrugged, looking over at Torres. “What’s our next steps?”

“Captain America killing a foreign national in public? It’s kinda like a big deal. Like international incident big. Folks higher up on the payroll are all over it now. So, unfortunately…”

“They’re taking jurisdiction,” Sam guessed.

“Yeah,” Torres nodded, his attention falling to a duffle bag at Sam’s feet that contained the snapped wings of his suit. “What happened to these?”

“So is there anything we can do?” you asked as Torres started examining the duffle bag.

“Not really. As I was telling Sam, they’ve cordoned off the whole camp, and Karli’s a ghost. After what went down, she’s laying extra low. Like under underground.”

“That’s why it makes sense for us to get involved,” Sam said. “The longer we let her regroup, the harder it’s gonna be to find her.”

“She’s got people helping her from all over the world, on all platforms,” Torres pointed out. “She’s really, really good at this thing.” He ran his hands carefully over the splintered wings. “How’d these break?”

“John,” you answered while Sam sighed, taking in all the information Torres was providing.

“Anyways,” Torres went on, “all we can do now is sit tight, and just chill. Sometimes there’s nothing to do, until there’s something to do.”

“That’s bizarrely wise,” Sam said with a small laugh.

“It means we can train,” you interjected. “Be prepared for whatever comes next.”

“The lady has a point,” Torres agreed with you, his eyes flickering longingly to the shield that lay on the table, remnants of the blood John had splattered on his now gone.

“Yeah, alright,” Sam nodded with a smile, looking at you. “Find your husband, and let’s get to work.”

Thankfully, all you had to do was turn your head, finding Bucky stalking back down the hallway with both yours and his suitcases in hand. “B- Oh, hey. We going somewhere?”

“Home. Well. Sam is. You and I are making a pit stop first.”

“So you finally found Zemo?” was Sam’s guess.

“I have an idea of where he might be, yeah.”

“You know, sometimes you still scare me Buck. The staring. The eerily calm voice. It’s creepy, man.”

“You wanna get to work, or not, Sam?”

~~~

The pit stop ended up being Sokovia, Bucky giving you a full rundown as to why he figured Zemo would be there on the flight over. He also told you of the plan he had. And sure enough, as the two of you walked up to the memorial site, Zemo was standing in front of it, his back facing you.

“I thought you’d be here sooner,” Zemo said as you and Bucky got within earshot. “Don’t worry. I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.”

“Imagine my relief,” Bucky deadpanned, finger clicking the safety of the gun he had ready at his side.

Zemo turned towards you both, unthreatened by Bucky’s action as his attention focused on you. “The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned you and Sam, but you wouldn’t listen. Just as stubborn as Steve was, the two of you.” His gaze shifted to Bucky. “But you. They literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere. And there’s only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.”

“I appreciate the advice,” Bucky answered, his face conveying no evidence of whether or not that statement was actually true. “But we’re gonna do it our own way.”

Zemo chuckled at what he believed to be the naivety of Bucky’s words. “Yeah. I was afraid you’d say that.”

The gun in Bucky’s hand clicked again as he loaded what you knew to be nothing, but Zemo rightfully assumed to be a bullet into the chamber, raising his hand, the barrel of the gun mere inches from Zemo’s forehead. Zemo went pale, but kept his composure calm, even nodding at Bucky like he was giving the man permission to pull the trigger.

You watched as Zemo sucked in his breath while Bucky pressed ever so lightly on the trigger. But all that came out of the gun was an empty clicking sound. Eyes still locked on Zemo, Bucky opened his other hand, the bullets clattering to the ground.

Silently, the Dora Milaje walked up, surrounding Zemo. “Ladies,” he greeted, before addressing Bucky one last time. “I took the liberty of crossing my name off in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do. Goodbye James. It was nice getting to know you, Mrs. Barnes.”

Two of the Dora Milaje escorted Zemo away, while the third talked briefly with Bucky about their own plans for Zemo. “It would be prudent to make yourself scarce in Wakanda for the time being, White Wolf,” she added as a small warning.

“Fair enough,” he nodded. Then, “Hey. I may have another favor to ask of you.”

~~~

After your visit with Zemo, you and Bucky headed home.

“Buck said you got a few good ones in on that new Cap guy. Good for you,” Steve smiled proudly.

“I did okay, I guess. Got out better than Bucky and Sam, that’s for sure,” you shrugged in modesty. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Yeah, he got back a few days ago. But just as soon as he stopped by, he was gone again. Something about seeing the old man in Baltimore?”

“Bradley,” you and Bucky said in unison. “He’s uh… like you and me,” Bucky added as an extra explanation when Steve cocked his head in confusion. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, if that was a few days ago, where’s Sam now?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “My guess? He went home to see his sister in Louisiana. You guys still not talking after what happened?”

You looked at Bucky, and shook your head. “No. Bucky won’t say it, but he’s still never forgiven Sam for giving up the shield in the first place. And now he’s even more mad he had to help Sam get it back, because-”

“None of this would have happened if he hadn’t given it up in the first place,” you and Steve gave your best Bucky impression together.

“1.) I don’t sound like that. And 2.) I’m right. None of this would have happened if Sam had kept the shield. Not the shit with Walker anyway.”

“But Sam’s still family. And we’re still Avengers. And we still have a job to finish with Karli,” you pointed out.

“What? So you want to go to Louisiana and find Sam?” Bucky asked you.

“That would be a start.”

“Doll, we just got home. Don’t you wanna be home for a bit?”

“Not when there’s still work to be done. And you and Sam gotta put this whole mess behind you once and for all, because all Riga proved was that it takes all three of us working together to take down John.”

“And that barely worked,” he reminded you.

“Which is also why we all need to train together. Not you training me here while Sam does God knows what in Louisiana. We need to be an actual team here, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed. “Alright. I’ll book us a flight first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Why not book it right now?”

Bucky looked at Steve, clearing his throat before leaning in close to your ear. “Because of reasons I can’t say in front of your brother, doll.”

Your eyes went wide and your cheeks turned bright red at Bucky’s insinuation while Steve clapped his hands loudly together. “Okay. I think we’re done here.”

~~~

You’re sure we’re in the right place?” you asked Bucky as you approached a dock crowded with people and supplies.

Bucky only nodded as he climbed in the back of a truck lifting a huge pallet with ease at the same time you heard Sam’s voice wonder “How do we get it off the truck?”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky said as he set the pallet aside, turning to see Sam’s shocked expression.

“Surprise,” you grinned, waggling your fingers in a wave at Sam.

Sam stepped around the truck to get closer to you and Bucky, the shock on his face now a questioning look.

Bucky set a suitcase down on the bed of the truck. “Just dropping this off. Sign for it, and we’ll go.”

“Bucky,” you hissed under your breath. This was not part of your plan at all.

“I called in a favor from the Wakandans,” Bucky explained to Sam.

Before Sam could say anything in response, or you could berate Bucky under your breath again, a pipe started hissing loudly, and a woman was rushing over. “Sam!”

Sam wasted no time in rushing over to assess what the damage to the pipe was and how to go about fixing it, grabbing a nearby wrench as the woman looked at you and Bucky.

“Hi,” you smiled at her.

“Hi,” she smiled back.

Bucky sighed, watching what Sam was doing before going over. “Hold on, hold on. You gotta go up.” He took the wrench from Sam, pushing him out of the way, quickly tightening to the loose bolt on the pipe until it stopped hissing.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?” Sam asked as Bucky set the wrench aside.

Bucky thought about it for a second, looking at the vibranium appendage. “Well, I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m right-handed. So, this is the boat, huh?”

“This is it,” Sam nodded.

“It’s nice,” Bucky complimented. “You want any help?”

Sam looked at Bucky, sighing deeply. “Yeah…”

You and the woman looked over at Bucky and Sam, rolling your eyes. “Men…” you muttered. Then, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Sarah,” she smiled back. “Friends of Sam’s, I take it?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Mmm,” she nodded, her eyes roaming over Bucky. “And who are you?”

“I’m Bucky,” he grinned charmingly at her.

Sam punched him in the right arm as hard as he could.

“Ow! What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky growled, rubbing at his arm.

“What is it with you and people’s sisters, man? How did Steve not beat your ass?”

Sarah’s eyes went wide as she looked at you, yours and Bucky’s name clicking in familiarity. “Oh!” she said, a hand covering her mouth as she looked at you, “I’m so sorry!”

You howled with laughter as Sam hit Bucky in the arm some more. “Seriously?! How did Steve not obliterate your ass?”

“He was like a foot shorter and weighed maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet,” Bucky shrugged. “Now will you stop hitting me? Doll!” He turned to you with puppy dog eyes to help him. “Weren’t you the one saying I needed to learn to be friendlier to people?”

“Friendlier, not flirtier,” you clarified, tears rolling down your cheeks from how hard you were still laughing. “Now help Sam with the damn boat, Sergeant Charmer.”

It was an interesting morning watching Bucky and Sam work on the boat, while you helped Sarah in the house making meals. “It’s probably a good thing Bucky’s from another time,” she commented as she caught you staring dreamily out the window for the millionth time.

“How do you mean?”

“A man that looks like that, and knows it? In today’s society? Not usually a good mix.”

“Oh, those types have always existed,” you said with a small chuckle. “Bucky and Steve used to fight them quite a bit.”

“And you? Having to fight off the hoards of women that no doubt threw themselves at a man like that?”

You laughed again. “Very rare occurrences. Bucky is, uh… attentive that way, I guess.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have a husband like Bucky. Men like that are hard to come by, believe me.”

“Oh, I know. Funny thing is, if you ask Bucky, he’d say he’s the lucky one.”

“Well, lunch is about done if you wanna bring these plates out to them for me.”

You thanked her, loading the plates up in your arms before walking outside and over to where Bucky and Sam were. “Lunch time!” you called out.

Both of their heads swiveled in your direction, Bucky clutching at his heart dramatically. “Oh, a woman after my own heart.”

“Sarah made lunch, I just helped,” you told him, handing him a plate.

Sam snickered, taking his own plate from you, “Thanks for helping her,” he told you, then in a louder voice that was almost a shout, “Thank you, Sarah!”

“You think Karli’s gonna throw in the towel?” Bucky asked, as you all took a spot and dug into your lunch.

Sam shook his head as he swallowed his bite of food. “I think she’s gonna double down.”

“Any idea on how to stop her?”

“I got Torres working on something.”

“Well, Zemo says there’s only one way.”

You all said nothing for a minute, eating your lunch and thinking quietly to yourselves before Bucky broke the silence. “Well. Y/N and I gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Gonna get a hotel room for the night. Crash, ya know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well, there’s two of us. We don’t wanna impose, or anything. I really just came to give you that,” Bucky nodded at the suitcase the Wakandans have given him for Sam.

Sam snorted. “Like Y/N didn’t all but march your ass on the plane to get here. So just stay here. The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small T-shirts, or if you have six toes, or if your mom’s your aunt-” Sam rambled.

“Okay,” Bucky cut him off with a chuckle. “I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.”

You and Sam laughed too, before Sam pointed at Bucky, “But don’t flirt with my sister.”

“Why would I do that?”

Sam looked at you, “He doesn’t get it, does he?”

You shook your head, “He never really did.”

“What don’t I get?”

“It’s how you interact with women in general, Bucky. They find you charming,” you explained. “Niceness is mistaken as interest.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous.”

“Just keep the charm around my sister in check, or I’ll help Y/N cut you up, and feed you to the fish.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

~~~

That night, instead of a hotel, you and Bucky slept in the spare bedroom of Sarah’s house, while Sam offered to take the couch.

Both of you awoke to the sounds of Sarah’s sons making a ruckus down the hall, and Sam’s tired call out of “Hey!”

You rolled on your side, to find Bucky already looking at you with a smile on his face. “What’s got you so happy this morning?” you asked, kissing his nose.

His shoulders shrugged. “Something about this is nice. Waking up next to you in a house. Sound of kids.”

You gasped softly in a teasing manner. “James Barnes, are you saying you want a quiet domestic life?”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead. “You knew that was what I wanted. What our lives were supposed to be like when I got home. You wanted the same thing too, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I still do. I just didn’t know you still did, given how much everything’s changed.”

“For a while I didn’t. My focus was… elsewhere. But it’s been something that’s been on my mind again since you’ve been back. But I wanted to give us both time to adjust. Catch up for lost time, just me and you. And then… ya know. But yeah. This,” he twirled a finger about the room, and the sounds of the house coming alive, “is still something I want.”

“Well, it’s still something I want, too.”

His kiss was heavy with need as his lips crashed into yours. “God, I love you.”

~~~

The shield bit deeply into the tree Sam hurled it at. “Son of a b-” he muttered, dashing over to wedge it free.

“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Bucky told him.

“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Sam repeated in a mocking tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I got an idea.”

The idea ended up being taking rubber mats to bound around the trees, Sam giving it a test once they were done. The shield bounced off the mat, flying straight back to Sam who caught it with ease. “Yeah, alright,” he conceded. “That’s way better.”

“How’s the shield part feel?” you asked.

“That part feels weird.” He launched it again, the shield ricocheting off one mat into another before Bucky caught it. “The legacy of that shield,” Sam continued, “is complicated to say the least.”

“When Steve told us what he was planning, I don’t think any of us really understood what it felt like for a Black man to be handed the shield. How could we?” Bucky spoke up.

You and Sam shared a look, Sam jerking a thumb at you, “Well, I understood. And so did she. But glad you’re finally catching up.”

Bucky sighed, “Fine. I didn’t understand. Point is, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.” He lifted the arm the shield was on towards Sam for Sam to take.

“Thank you,” Sam said sincerely, taking the shield.

“Whatever happened with Walker, it wasn’t your fault,” Bucky went on to say. “I get it. It’s just… that shield… For a while it was the closest thing I had to a family. Or it was a huge part in me getting my family back anyway. Because if Steve never took it up in the first place… Well, when you retired it, it felt like giving up. Made me question everything. Like first Steve retired. Then you retired the shield. Everything that saved me was done. Like I was nothing but a completed mission.”

You and Sam stayed quiet, letting Bucky spill out the confession he now found the words to express. But after a long enough pause on Bucky’s end, you reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I know both Steve, and the shield mean a lot to you. But it doesn’t define you, Bucky,” you told him softly. “You are not who you are because of Steve. He might have helped, but he is not the reason. You are. You’re the one who put in the work.”

“She’s right,” Sam agreed with you. “You gotta stop looking at other people to tell you who you are. Let me ask you, you still having those nightmares?”

“All the time,” Bucky nodded. “It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me.”

“You up for a little tough love? You wanna climb out of that hell you’re in, keep doing the work.”

“I’ve been making my amends.”

Sam scoffed. “No. You weren’t amending, you were avenging. And teaching Y/N in the process. You were stopping all the wrongdoers you enabled as the Winter Soldier because you thought it would bring you closure. But if it actually was, then your nightmares wouldn’t be happening. At least not with the frequency they still do.”

Bucky looked at you, both of you thinking about Yori back home. “You’re not allowed to talk to Sam anymore if you’re gonna blab everything I tell you to him.”

You smiled, knowing he was only teasing. “We’re a team, Bucky. Looking out for each other is what we do.”

Bucky shook his head. “Definitely not a team.”

“Nope,” Sam agreed with Bucky.

“We’re not that good,” Bucky laughed.

“Definitely not,” Sam agreed again.

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And uh… partners?”

“Coworkers.”

“But, we’re also a couple guys with a mutual friend.”

“But the friend’s now gone,” Sam pointed out.

“So we’re a couple of guys.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

You snorted at their boyish back and forth antics. “The word you’re looking for is ‘family’ actually,” you interjected.

“Just uh… call us when you have a lead on Karli, and we’ll be there,” Bucky told Sam.

“Yep. And uh, thanks for the help. Meant a lot.”

“Course,” Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder, and you and Sam gave each other a quick hug. “C’mon, doll. We got a flight to catch.”

~~~

Back home with no idea for how long, you and Bucky set to work on a more rigorous training for you.

Mornings quickly became filled with drilling you in various hand-to-hand combat techniques in which Bucky barely broke a sweat, and you ended up drenched in enough of your own for the both of you.

While you relished in your morning routine with Bucky, it was the afternoons you found particularly interesting after you came out of the bedroom to find Bucky sitting in front of his laptop. “Whatcha looking at?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you peered at the house listings on the computer screen.

“Domestic dreaming,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen as he patted the sofa cushion next to him for you to join him.

“Oh, so when you said you still wanted this, you meant you wanted it now,” you teased as you moved around him to take the offered seat.

He shrugged. “Figured it couldn’t hurt. Thanks to Stark, everyone that’s still around is pretty well off. And I forget when exactly, but at some point Steve and I were able to get our GI funds.”

“That’s nice,” you noted, now understanding why finances had never seemed to be an issue despite neither of you actually working.

“Yeah. And I figured raising a family in a shoebox apartment isn’t part of that domestic dream. So…”

“So here we are,” you supplied.

“So here we are,” he repeated with a nod. “Oh, this one looks nice,” he said, clicking on one of the options.

“It is,” you agreed, watching as Bucky clicked through the pictures of the 3 bedroom home. “Big enough to raise a family. Small enough to not be obnoxious.”

“Mhm,” Bucky murmured, the mouse hovering over the link to schedule a viewing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned.

After that, it wasn’t uncommon for yours and Bucky’s afternoons to be filled with meeting with realtors and attending open houses, weighing all your options in the evenings. And with the type of dedication Bucky had towards house hunting, it wasn’t long at all until you found a place you both fell in love with.

“C’mon, doll,” he roused you one morning like he always did. “Gotta go train.”

Normally you bounded out of bed, excited for a new day of training exercises, but today you swatted a hand at him, batting him away. “No,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up over your head, and turning away from him, the action making your stomach roll. You let out a long, low groan.

“You feeling alright?” he asked, his voice taking on a note of concern. Hands pulled the blanket from your face, before he was feeling your forehead, checking for any unusual warmth. “You don’t feel like you have a fever,” he noted with a frown.

“Gonna be sick,” you announced, springing from bed and racing for the bathroom.

Bucky followed worriedly, one hand pulling your hair out of your face, the other rubbing soothingly at your back as you dry-heaved into the toilet. “Okay, no training today. We do have the meeting with the realtor later to sign the last of the papers and get the keys. But I can ask Steve to come keep you company while I go do that if you’re not up for it.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head and rising shakily to your feet. “You don’t have to bother Steve. It’s just a stomach bug, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, let me at least help you back to bed, and make you some breakfast, okay?”

“Fine,” you conceded, letting him support your weight as he led you back to bed. “But I’m not hungry,” you told him as you pulled the blanket close around you in bed.

“Not hungry, or worried you’ll be sick if you eat?” he questioned the validity of your statement.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “At least try to eat some toast for me? Maybe having something in your stomach will help.”

“If you get it to me before I fall back asleep, I’ll try,” was your compromise.

Quickly, Bucky raced into the kitchen, as you closed your eyes wondering why you suddenly felt so miserable. When you’d been sick in the past, there’d always been signs leading up to it. But this sickness had caught you completely off guard.

“Gotta sit up for me, doll,” Bucky’s voice had you opening your eyes again, spotting him standing next to you with a plate in his hand.

You groaned, sitting up against the headboard and taking a begrudging bite of the toast.

He chuckled again. “I forgot how stubborn you get when you’re sick. Way more than you normally are.”

“Not sure how not wanting to vomit toast, and wanting to sleep makes me stubborn, but okay,” you said, taking another slow bite.

“Aren’t there usually signs before you get sick? I thought there used to be signs.”

“There are signs. Or there’s supposed to be. I dunno what the heck is happening.”

His brows pulled together in curious confusion. “You’re not…” his eyes shifted to look at your stomach pointedly. “Are you?”

Your eyes went wide at the suggestion, before you shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe?”

“Shit…”

“Would it be bad if I was?”

“No!” he rushed. “God no. Just…”

“We talked about all of this back in the forties, it became irrelevant for decades, and now that we started talking about the possibility of it all again, it’s all happening at once.”

“And we still have the Karli situation, yeah. But it’s fine. It’s more than fine. Do you want me to run down to the pharmacy?”

“Please?”

Ten minutes later, Bucky held you tight as you waited on the test lying on the bathroom counter with wide and tearful eyes. “Holy shit…” you both breathed in unison, as a small plus sign appeared in the result window. “Holy shit!”

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