#and it’s getting bad enough i’m genuinely thinking it might be a tumor or something. else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wkemeup · 5 years ago

Text

Feel Again

summary: Instantly captivated by the woman the nurses have dubbed the ‘frequent flyer’ of the emergency department, Bucky can’t help but fall for Y/n. He relishes every moment he can spend with her and with her apparent clumsiness, it’s quite often. That is, until he learns the real reason behind her injuries.

pairing: doctor!bucky x reader

word count: 13k 😬

warnings: mentions of a physically abusive relationship (no direct descriptions of violence), descriptions of injuries

authors’s note: this def gets a little dark but I promise it’s worth it. please enjoy a very lovestruck/protective bucky 🥰

“Alright little man,” Bucky chuckled, brushing his hand over the curls of the three-year-old boy name Nico sitting in his father’s lap upon a cot. The busy chaos of the emergency department had Nico clinging onto his stuff stuffed stegosaurus for dear life, curled up against his father’s chest.

Small brown eyes looked up nervously as Bucky knelt down at Nico’s eye level. He pointed to the Band-Aid he had obtained special from the pediatrics floor on the boy’s elbow, light green and covered in small cartoon dinosaurs.

“Don’t go running down the stairs again, okay? Doctor’s orders.”

Nico nodded, his curls bouncing into his eyes. Bucky stood up with a grin and shook the hand of Nico’s father who apologized for the fifth time in as many minutes for bringing his son in for such a small cut. His wife was away on business and he had a bad habit of panicking at the small things when it came to their son.

“Always better to be safe,” Bucky advised, offering the nervous father an encouraging smile as he slid the chart into the basket at the end of the bed. The man hugged his son tightly before he reached for their coats, thanking Bucky again for his time. He watched as Nico’s father lifted him easily into his arms and carried him to the exit of the emergency department.

As they pushed open the doors, Bucky caught a brief glimpse of the night sky, blanketed in darkness and freckled in stars. Last he knew the sun was still above the skyline. He glanced up at the bright red numbers illuminated above the nurses’ station to read it was nearing on one in the morning. Bucky sighed, giving himself only a moment to breathe before he recognized Steve jogging in his direction.

“Buck!” Steve called over the loud chatter of irritable patients waiting for their turn and the constant beeping of about a dozen heart monitors. He shoved his way through a hoard of interns in light blue scrubs gathered over the bed of a man talking casually despite the knife protruding from his collarbone and grumbled something about ‘dough eyed idiots’ under his breath. Panting for a moment as he reached Bucky, he glanced down at the clipboard.

“I need you on bed eight.”

“You doing okay, Steve?” Bucky smirked, leaning against the countertop at the nurses’ station. “Looks like being head of trauma ain’t all it’s worked up to be. You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“We’re swamped,” Steve grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. One of the nurses could be heard scolding an intern with defibrillator paddles in his hands as the patient was opening his eyes from a heavy sleep. “The interns are completely useless and I’ve got more patients than beds. This full moon shit is killing us.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky laughed, clapping Steve on the shoulder as he moved toward the bed at the end of the line. “Take a breath, Stevie. Sam’s on call for tonight. Why don’t you give him a ring?”

“Yeah I bet he’ll love that,” Steve rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll be sure to tell him it was your idea, too.”

"Wouldn’t that be a damn shame,” Bucky called over his shoulder, chucking to himself as he swerved his way through the crowd of people gathered for the injured soccer player in bed six.

Bed eight sat at the end of the series of cots lining the east wall of the department. It was tucked a little further into the corner, separated by a series of rolling carts and machines, so it at least felt slightly less claustrophobic than the rest of the beds around here.

The curtain was drawn around the bed, obstructing the patient from view, so Bucky took a minute to glance over the chart.

Y/n Rumlow. Female. No record of prior medical history, which was a bit unusual, but the nurses had at least taken down note that the presenting problem was pain and swelling at the wrist. Shouldn’t be too difficult to manage. He could have her out of here in a few minutes and on to the next patient before Steve started flogging the interns or actually woke up Sam, for which Bucky would face some serious death glares for the rest of the night.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the well recited speech he usually doled out to patients.

With a quick tug, Bucky swung open the curtain, eyes still glued to the clipboard, “Good evening, ma’am. My name is Dr. Barnes and I’ll be--”

A yelp sounded over the metal rings sliding against the rod over his head and Bucky froze.

He glanced up over the brim of the chart to find a young woman sitting cross legged on the bed, dressed in light wash jeans and a sweatshirt with faded lettering worn with years of use. Her hair was tied up away from her face, like she had thrown it up last minute before leaving the house, messy strands falling down from the bun. The faint discoloration of dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and the imprint of what appeared to be the fold of a pillow case on her cheek.

Bucky noticed almost instantly that she was undeniably, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She was gingerly resting her right wrist against her knee just over the rip in of jeans. Her phone sat on the bed by her hip, softly playing music from the speaker as the headphones must have yanked accidentally from the plug. Wide eyes, a breath coming in too quick, a hand stabilizing against her chest, and Bucky realized he had startled her.

“Sorry I scared you there, Miss, uh,” Bucky chuckled nervously, glancing down at the chart for her name again, “Rumlow.”

“Y/L/n-Rumlow, actually,” she corrected with a soft, almost proud, smile and Bucky wondered if he ever heard a voice as sweet as hers before.

She pulled the headphones from her ears and quickly turned off the music playing from her phone. The strum of the guitar silenced, something that sounded familiar to Bucky though he couldn’t quite place it, and the unnerving noise of a busy ER filled the room again.

"Y/n is just fine,” she added and Bucky’s heartbeat kicked up.

“Okay then, Y/n,” Bucky smiled back at her as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the way her name felt on the edge of his lips. He swallowed, cursing at himself for the flush in his cheeks that seemed to redden the longer she looked at him.

He had a job to do. Might as well focus on that instead of the anxious energy surging in his veins.

He gestured for her hand. “Why don’t I take a look at that?”

“I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time. I’m sure there’s someone who needs your help more than me right now,” she said nervously, glancing down at the series of bed filled with patients and the bustling families around them.

Bucky noticed then that she was alone, and he wondered why that was.

“I’m sure I’m probably fine,” she continued with a shrug, “but I didn’t want it to get worse, you know?”

Bucky nodded, watching the way she kept glancing down at the eight-year-old in bed five who hadn’t stopped coughing since he arrived, skin flushed red and sweat dripping down his back. His mother sat on the cot with him, running her hands along his damped hair as the poor boy looked like he was about to faint at any minute.

“You’re not preventing anyone else from getting care,” Bucky assured her genuinely.

Steve approached the boy and his mother just a moment later and Bucky nodded down towards them. Y/n followed his gaze and her lips curved up against her cheeks, watching intently as Steve took off his stethoscope and let the boy listen to his own heartbeat. A grin broke through the boy’s tired face and he gestured excitedly for his mom to try.

“I’m sure you see a lot of pain working in a trauma center like this,” she said, gaze still trained on the boy, watching him with a kind of secondhand joy that made Bucky’s stomach weak. He didn’t know people were still this genuine. She turned back to him. “Do you have good moments like that, too?”

Bucky nodded, his cheeks a little sore from smiling. No one had ever asked him that before.

“We do, actually. The good moments aren’t always cute kids, though.” He could feel her eyes on him and he took a deep breath, continuing. “Sometimes, the good moments are when a patient’s heart rhythm picks up again after flatlining long past when someone else would have called it or when we’re able to stabilize a patient coming in from a car wreck long enough to get them up to the operating room or when we catch a tumor in a scan for a concussion that’ll probably end up saving their life. That kind of stuff happens more often than you’d think.”

Bucky didn’t realize how wide he was smiling, caught up in the memories, until he noticed the bewilderment with which Y/n was watching him, eyes practically sparkling, as he was lost in his own world to just talk about what made this job worth all of the bad timing and the lost causes.

“But a lot of times it’s the cute kids,” Bucky added, chuckling softly under his breath.

“It’s really nice that you care so much about what you do,” Y/n said, almost longingly with a bit of an ache in her voice that Bucky didn’t catch. “Not everyone is fortunate enough for that.”

Bucky shrugged, trying to brush it off casually. He glanced down at her wrist, noticing the way she was favoring it as she had pulled it closer to her hip bone.

“I should probably take a look at that, then. Since I care so much,” Bucky said with a teasing smirk, one that somehow made her smile even wider and he swore he could just stare at the way her lips curved so sweetly against the soft hue in her cheeks for eternity and be content.

“Right, of course,” she giggled, extending her arm towards him.

She hissed as he took her wrist carefully into his grasp, a frown pursing over her lips and Bucky cursed himself for being the cause of it. He ran his fingers carefully over the swollen area, light bruising forming at the surface, and he glanced up to gage for her reaction to find her pulling her lower lip into her mouth, biting at the dry skin.

“What’s the damage, doc?”

“It’s definitely sprained,” Bucky admitted, reaching for the cart next to the bed and dragged it towards him. The wheels clicked against the tile surface and he pulled open the second to top drawer, rummaging through the supplies until he pulled out a long, tan bandage. “I’m going to wrap this, alright? It may hurt a bit.”

She nodded as Bucky began to unroll the bandage. He glanced up at her, finding himself wanting to know more about a patient than the necessary questions for the first time in years.

He wanted to know what school that sweatshirt was from because he couldn’t quite make out the faded lettering on his own. He wanted to know what artist she had been listening to when he startled her and if she made playlists for the weather and obscure kinds of moods like he did. He wanted to know if her eyes were naturally such a warm, inviting hue or if she smiled like that at everyone or if she wanted to go to dinner Friday night--

Wait.

Focus.

Bucky set the beginning of the bandage at the inside of her wrist and began to wrap it carefully around her arm and then up around her palm between her thumb and pointer finger, and then back around her wrist twice. As he worked, he could sense her eyes on him, watching, and he found himself needing to ask her more questions just to hear her voice again.

“So, no medical history, huh?”

“Just moved to the area,” she replied quickly, a little flatter than what her tone had been before though Bucky didn’t pay it any mind. “Haven’t had a chance to find a primary doc or transfer my records yet.”

Bucky nodded, satisfied enough with her answer, though he didn’t notice the way her shoulders seemed to sigh in relief when he didn’t probe further. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for patients to show up without a medical history, especially if they were from out of state or hadn’t been to a provider within the hospital’s network before. He didn’t think too much of it.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened that you sprained your wrist at this time of night?” Bucky asked playfully as he secured the adhesive end and released her hand.

She flinched slightly at his question and Bucky narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment to watch her as she averted her gaze to his hands. She shrugged, though a sliver of hesitation slipped in before she spoke.

“Oh, I just tripped over some shoes in the hallway coming back from a shift. Landed wrong.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unsure. He swore he remembered seeing the indent of a pillow crease on her cheek when he first sat down, like she had woken up from a deep sleep, but then she started to laugh. She had those crinkles up by the sides of her eyes that made Bucky’s stomach flutter and he couldn’t remember why he asked in the first place.

“I’m pretty clumsy, actually,” she sighed with that grin that made Bucky’s stomach churn. She brought her left hand up to her lips to hide the smile Bucky couldn’t seem to look away from as a blush filled her cheeks.

That was, until he noticed the flash of a diamond reflect under the florescent lights and his heart sank.

He shouldn’t be surprised; didn’t know why he was. A girl like that, so effortlessly beautiful and a smile that could instant light an entire room; he didn’t have a chance. Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek, forcing out a grin to match hers despite the disappointment wallowing in his stomach.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you too long,” Bucky said as he stood from the bed, trying to mask the hurt in his voice. “Just make sure you ice that and get yourself a primary doc, okay?”

She nodded quickly, gathering her phone and headphones into her bag before she slid herself off the side of the bed. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. I really do appreciate your time.”

“Bucky,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. She raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “You can call me Bucky. You know, if you, uh, ever find yourself back here which I, um, of course hope you... don’t.”

Cheeks flushed red with an embarrassment he was entirely unused to talking to a woman and Y/n grinned so wide he was sure the corners of her lips might touch her ears. He’d never seen anything like it.

“Okay, Bucky,” she said sweetly and he wanted her to say his name a dozen more times. “Hope you have some good moments tonight.”

Bucky smiled, giving her a subtle wave as he watched her disappear into the crowd of doctors and patients before he caught sight of her again by the door. She paused, digging into her bag for her phone, brushing a fallen hair behind her ear and huffing it out of her face when it fell back a second later. The soft pout on her face made Bucky’s legs weak. Once she pulled the phone from her bag, a frown pursed over her lips and her shoulders seemed to stiffen. Bucky was about to walk over to make sure she was alright when he felt a nudge in his shoulder.

“You look like a complete idiot, just so you know,” Sam grumbled, arms folded over his chest as he clearly was following his gaze.

Bucky tore his eyes away from Y/n reluctantly as Sam began to snicker to himself. He grabbed a chart out of the hands of an intern as they walked by and tracked down some kid named Peter Parker in bed two with a glorified bug bite.

When he looked for Y/n again, she was gone.

***

“You’re thinking about the girl from bed eight again, aren’t you?”

Bucky lifted his head from his arms folded against the countertop of the nurses’ station and sent a glare in Sam’s direction. He hadn’t had a decent night sleep in four days and he was coming off a thirty-six-hour shift, the lack of sleep evident in the bags below his eyes and the messy wave in his hair. He only agreed to stay an extra hour to help Steve with the transition of interns coming onto the night shift so his patience was incredibly thin, especially for Sam’s antics.

“She’s married, Sam,” Bucky groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t matter if I’m thinking about her. She’s not available.”

“Maybe it’s a green card marriage,” Sam offered and Steve wacked him upside the head. He shrugged, seemingly unbothered, though he ducted out of Steve’s reach before he spoke again. “Maybe the guy’s emotionally unavailable and she’s looking for a way out. Or... maybe she’s in the market for some side action.”

Sam bumped Bucky’s hip with his own, making some ridiculous cooing noise. He apparently found himself to be incredibly hilarious as he nearly doubled over laughing at Bucky’s non-reaction.

“It’s been three weeks, Buck,” Steve said cautiously, shoving Sam away and stepping between the two as usually found himself doing. “Maybe you should let Nat set you up with the nurse in cardiology.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Look, I appreciate the thought but I’m way too busy for--”

“Dr. Barnes?” one of the interns came up behind him, timid voice barely heard over the hustle of the ER. Bucky turned around to face her. Wanda, he thought. She handed him a chart. “Bed fourteen is asking for you specifically.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Did you tell her that we don’t--”

“Thanks Wanda,” Bucky pressed out a smile, interrupting Sam as his eyes fell upon the name listed at the top of the chart.

Sam glanced rather obviously over his shoulder and started chuckling to himself, saying something to Steve Bucky knew would only come at his own expense, but he took off towards the west side of the department without waiting to hear what is was.

He couldn’t seem to get there quick enough. Several interns tried to snag him away as he walked past, asking questions they should have learned in their first year, but he shrugged them off, gesturing for one of the nurses to assist them instead. The nurses always seemed to know more than the interns anyway.

Sure enough, as he turned the corner, there she was.

Hair cascading down over her shoulders, exposing the soft curl amongst messy waves he hadn’t seen the last time she visited. She was in black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, almost as if she had just crawled out of bed and still, she was hands down the most captivating person within view.

Her eyes glanced around the room, almost curiously, just watching the doctors as they scribbled their messy handwriting into charts, nurses as they drew IV and scowled at the interns, and patients as they muttered amongst one another, complaining of the noise and the long wait time. Bucky found himself grinning before he even took another step in her direction.

She hadn’t noticed him approach the side of the bed and when he cleared his throat to say hello, she recoiled away as if something had burned her. Her hand clasped to her chest, breath picking up in pace, eyes wide in such a familiar state to when Bucky first met her.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky blurted out, sliding her chart into the basket at the end of the bed. He scratched nervously at the back of his head. “Man, I’ve got a habit of scaring you, don’t I? Guess I should learn to walk a little louder...”

Y/n relaxed instantly as her eyes fell upon him, a blush burning in her cheeks as she grimaced at him, though it turned into that sweet smile Bucky missed so much.

“No, no it’s my fault,” she waved him off, laughing nervously. “I startle easy.”

Bucky nodded, already feeling a contentment just being around her again. He didn’t know it was possible for someone to captivate him so quickly, so easily, without much effort at all. The way she was looking up at him, under thick lashes and a soft red in her cheeks, Bucky felt like he could melt.

“So, what’s going on this time?” Bucky smiled, pulling up a stool and wheeling it under him as he sat next to her bed. She extended her right hand in his direction, wrist covered in the bandage that should have been removed over a week ago.

“I think I messed up your good work,” she frowned, her gaze darting to the ground, almost shamefully. It sat in startling contrast to the kind features in her face.

“It’s not my work I’m worried about,” Bucky said lightly, hoping to get her smiling again. “What happened?”

Y/n didn’t respond for a moment. Instead, her eyes were focused on the way Bucky’s hands grazed over her wrists tenderly, careful not to put too much pressure, his own eyes flickering up to hers every once in a while to make sure he wasn't accidentally using too much force.

“I um,” Y/n started, slowly bringing herself to meet Bucky’s eye when he paused, waiting for her to respond. A smile curved at her lips, though something felt a little off about it. “I tripped over the damn cat. Can you believe that? If I’m gonna fall so much maybe I shouldn’t use my wrist as my landing support, huh?”

Bucky nodded apprehensively, watching the way the smiling didn’t quite reach her eyes. But then again, it was nearing midnight and he was coming off a thirty-six-hour shift. Maybe he was just seeing things.

“Guess I should count myself lucky you’re so clumsy then,” Bucky said, flashing her a smile. “Didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

She bit on her lip in an effort to suppress the grin pushing at her cheeks and the light sparkled in her eyes again. Bucky chuckled under his breath as he started to unwrap the bandage, exceedingly cautious to touch her skin with only the gentlest of pressure.

She hissed as he pulled the bandage from her arm and the cool air brushed over the skin. Bucky narrowed his eyes, studying the swelling, though he was surprised to see some green and yellow marks, bruises about a few days old, wrapping around her wrist. They looked almost like stripes.

“When did you start to notice the bruising?” Bucky asked curiously, lifting her arm slightly to examine the other side.

“Oh, that’s been there for a while,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

“You know,” Bucky started, thinking aloud as he took a closer look, “it almost looks like...”

Fingers? A hand print?

Bucky stopped himself before he could ask. He was sure he must be seeing things. He really needed to get some rest after this shift. Bucky sighed, gesturing for the nurse who walked by to bring him a few of the breakable cooling packs they reserved for favorite patients.

“Think I’ll be okay, doc?” she asked light-heartedly, retracting her wrist from his touch when he had stilled his movements and he was simply holding her hand. He swallowed nervously, not even realizing he had been doing that.

Bucky cleared his throat, nodding quickly to distract from the warmth in his cheeks. The nurse set the cooling packs on the edge of the bed and Bucky thanked her quickly. He picked one up and slid the rest into Y/n’s bag before she could do it herself.

“Use one of these once a day. You just break the bag at the center, like a glow stick, alright?” He snapped the bag, demonstrating how to activate it, and handed it to Y/n. She smiled in appreciation and let it set over her wrist.

"Let your wrist rest without the bandage at night if you can,” Bucky added. “I think you’ll be just fine, Y/n.”

“Thanks, Bucky. You’re a real savior,” she said as her left hand reached out for his and squeezed it firmly.

His eyes were drawn down immediately, staring at her hand upon his, the flicker of her diamond ring barely catching his attention from the way her fingers curled under his palm and her thumb brushed against the back of his hand soothingly. Her hand was so small compared to his, barely covered over his at all, but he could feel the warmth of it, the softness of her touch.

When she pulled her hand back again, Bucky missed it instantly.

“Take care, Y/n,” Bucky said, brushing aside the feeling swelling in his chest as he helped her to her feet. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to see me for a while this time,” Y/n offered, glancing up at him in a way that made his stomach a little weak. There was something unreadable behind her eyes, something that looked a little like longing, though he was certain he was just seeing things.

She was married, after all.

Bucky watched, again, as she made her way to the exit, sliding out of the way of the incoming swarm of interns barreling their way through the ED. She made herself small as she squeezed by a few family members of the patient in bed eighteen, too polite to even ask them to step aside. Then, she paused at the door, her shoulders rising with a deep, heavy breath, before she took a step forward and out into the night.

Bucky turned to head back to the nurses’ station when he found Sam standing behind him, shaking his head as hands planted on his hips.

“Man, you’ve got it bad."

“Shut up, Sam.”

***

It wasn’t the last time Bucky found Y/n in his ED. Over the next few months she’d come in for various injuries, requesting to see him specifically, and miraculously only needing to come in during the overnight shifts Bucky usually worked. It would be a twist in her ankle, or a soreness in her ribs, or sometimes an ache at her knee. She came in enough that the nurses began to dub her as a frequent flyer, though Bucky put a stop to that rather quickly.

She’d stay a little longer than necessary and Bucky would find himself moving a little slower when he examined her, just hoping to savor a bit of their time together.

He’d learned that she used to work as an editor at one of the most prestigious newspapers in the city until she stepped down once she got married, though she didn’t say why. He learned that she liked going to the zoo and just sitting by the red panda exhibit, waiting for them to come out from their hiding places or just to watch them sleep. He learned that her family lived out of state and she hadn’t seen them in a while, though she missed them terribly. He learned that she cared more about the lyrics in a song than the melody and would rather go to a dive bar with a band than a busy club on Saturday nights.

The more he learned about Y/n, the more he wanted to know. He could spend every minute just asking her questions, though he obliged her when he found that she seemed to want to know just as much about him.

So, he’d tell her about Steve; reluctantly, about Sam, too. He’d tell her about his years in medical school and the complete lack of a social life he had, though she didn’t seem to buy that for a second. He’d tell her about the tour he spent in Afghanistan as a field medic and how he nearly lost his left arm in an explosion. He’d tell her about how he liked to go to the batting cage on weekends and about the best ice cream shop in the whole city. He’d even tell her about his fascination with Stark Industries and she’d let him rant for a solid ten minutes on their new project that was set to redesign emergency medicine in the field for decades.

Every moment he spent with her left his heart swelling and it didn’t matter to him when she twisted and pulled at the ring on her finger absentmindedly as they talked. He was just happy to be around her, even if this was all it was going to be. A few stolen moments amongst a crowded emergency department, finding that when he looked at her, she was the only one in the room.

It had been nearly a month since he’d seen her last and part of him was thankful she was able to keep herself unharmed and managed not to trip over something else for a while, but he missed her like crazy. He’d find himself looking towards the entrance of the department every so often, a dozen times a shift, searching for her amongst the crowd.

Though, he knew it was unlikely he’d find her today. He agreed to do a double shift for Steve when Nat called out sick, so here he was, attending to patients with the sun shining outside for a change. Y/n only seemed to come in at night so at least now he’d be able to focus on something other than missing her voice or the sweet way she’d smile at him or the flicker of light in her eye when she --

“Dr. Barnes?” a voice called, rough around the edges from years of smoking.

Bucky blinked, pulling his attention back to the middle-aged man sitting in bed eleven. The man coughed again; an awful sound that probably ruptured something deep in his lungs. Bucky sighed, fiddling with the chart in his hands.

“You need to lay off the cigarettes,” he said simply, focus regaining on his task at hand. “You’ve got tar build up in your lungs and it’ll only...” his voice trailed off as a clanging sound erupted further down the hall, pulling his attention, as a nurse rushed to pick up the supplies that had been knocked over. Bucky shook his head, glancing back at the chart.

“It’ll only get worse if you keep smoking like this,” he continued, shrugging. “I can prescribe something for smoking cessation, but that’s the best I can...”

Again, a commotion at the end of the hall. Bucky narrowed his eyes, ignoring the way his patient grumbled under his breath, and he tried to get a better look.

“Sorry! Sorry, shit, I—I didn’t mean to cause such a mess,” a voice stammered out, one so familiar that Bucky quickly handed off the chart to the resident observing over his shoulder without a second thought and headed in the direction of the commotion.

The patient was calling after him, complaining about his terrible bedside manner as Bucky stalked off but it hardly even registered when he saw Y/n’s cheeks flushing red, stumbling over her words.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a moment of relief in his chest short lived by the way he noticed she was holding her hands; out right, like she was carrying an invisible platter, only her palms were red with blood. One of the nurses was gesturing for her to follow him to one of the open beds, pulling her away by a harsh hand on her elbow from the mess of supplies along the floor she had knocked over. His impatience was evident in his shoulders, the way he rolled his eyes at her, and a heat boiled in Bucky’s chest.

“I can take it from here, Grant,” Bucky called, jogging towards them as he grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the counter. He glanced briefly at Y/n, who’s eyes bulged at the sight of him, a near look of panic flashing over her features that Bucky didn’t quite expect.

“Bucky!” she gaped, swallowing thickly. “I didn't think you'd... Don't you work nights?”

Bucky shrugged, curving his lips into a smile for her the way he usually did. “I agreed to take an extra day shift to help Steve out. Lucky timing, huh?”

Y/n nodded, though she didn’t return his smile. It was unusual for her and it made Bucky raise an eyebrow in concern, though she tore her gaze away from him before he could ask what was wrong. It was then Bucky noticed Grant impatiently tapping his toe, waiting.

“We’re good here,” Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. “Thanks.”

Grant rolled his eyes, letting go of Y/n’s elbow, and while her shoulders seemed to relax, her hands were still held stiff, her stare firm to the floor. Timid. Almost fearful. So unlike the light-hearted, quick witted woman he knew. It didn’t sit well with him.

Bucky swallowed, tugging on the gloves before he reached out towards her absentmindedly and let his hands cup the back of her own, holding them steady in place. He shook his head as he examined her palms, a deep red coating in the insides of her hands, shards of glass embedded in tiny fragments amongst the surface. Stealing a glimpse at her face, he noticed the faint reflection of tracks down her cheeks, like she had been crying. His stomach twisted into knots at the mere thought of it.

He glanced back at the line of occupied beds before he caught sight of the open door at the end of the hallway.

“Follow me.”

He led Y/n down the busy hall, past several patients who had been waiting hours before her and the dirty looks that followed, before he gestured for her to step inside of the exam room. He flicked on the light switch as she stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind him. She had already taken a seat on the cot when he grabbed a chair and slid it up beside her.

He gestured for her hands again and she gave them over hesitantly. Bucky glanced up at her, noticing the way she avoided his gaze, shielded under his stare for the first time since he’d met her. As he held her hands in his own, he let his thumb brush comfortingly along her knuckles, trying to ease her discomfort as he took a better look at the glass puncturing her skin.

“I’m gonna have to pull the shards out with tweezers,” he said after some time, unable to come up with an alternative plan that would spare her more pain. She nodded, still yet to meet his eye. Bucky grabbed the kit from the drawer and pulled a pair of tweezers out. “This’ll probably hurt a bit. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

As he moved the metal rods to grip the first piece of glass, starting with the smallest fragments first to avoid additional blood covering his view, and tugged it out of her hand with a sharp movement. She let out a yelp in response, unprepared.

“Sorry,” she gritted through her teeth, a flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.

“No need to apologize, Y/n,” he replied sincerely and she seemed to relax a bit at that. “I’ll work fast, alright? It’ll be over in no time.”

She nodded in agreement and Bucky could feel her eyes on him as he worked. Each shard he pulled from her hands elicited a muffled whimper she’d try to hide from him. She’d bit down on her lip, tuck her face against her shoulder to hide the tears welling in her eyes, but he noticed. He cursed his own hands for bringing her this pain.

Hoping he could distract her as he moved to pull out the larger pieces in her hands, he let his mind wander to the question that had been swarming in the back of his head.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” he asked carefully, keeping his eyes trained on her hands as he plucked out a rather large shard embedded into the lifeline in her palm. She winced as the glass clanged into the metal cup next to him. A few more pieces and he’d be done.

Her silence didn’t slip past him as he continued to work, though he didn’t push her just yet. He was already causing her pain by tugging at her broken skin, there was no need to add to that. When he finally got to the last piece in her left hand, Bucky pulled it out quickly and let the tweezers fall into the cup amongst the glass shards. The two of them exhaled in relief.

As Bucky reached for the disinfectant wipes and the gauze he would need to wrap her palms, he warned her that it would sting. He pressed the alcohol-soaked cloth to her right palm and she bit back a whimper, one that made Bucky’s stomach churn. He muttered an apology under his breath as he wiped away the excess blood and wrapped her hand in the soft material. Then, he moved to the other to repeat the process again.

Once her hands were wrapped and Bucky peeled away the latex gloves, tossing them into the disposal bin by the door, she cleared her throat.

“I, uh, dropped a pair of wine glasses,” she mumbled and first the first time that day she met Bucky’s eye. There was something clouding the light in her eyes that Bucky found himself so drawn to every time he was able to steal a few moments with her. She didn’t carry her usual carefree charm or the sweet smile that made Bucky’s knees weak or the laugh he could have listened to for hours on end. Something was off, but he couldn’t make sense of it.

“It was so stupid,” she continued, shaking her head. “The wine spilled everywhere, all over the white tiles and Brock—Brock was so mad, he nearly--” she paused, biting on her lip hard enough to stop the words from spilling out.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, an ache in his chest hearing her husband’s name for the first time. The way she said it, her voice practically shaking, Bucky found himself desperate for her to finish that sentence, though he couldn’t find the strength to ask her to do so.

Instead, she let out a heavy sigh. “I must’ve just lost my balance or something while I was trying to clean it up and caught myself on my hands, right in the glass all over the floor. It was my fault. I can be so clumsy.”

Bucky nodded, though there was a part of him, bigger than he wanted to admit, that didn’t believe her. The way she spoke, it was almost void of emotion, like she had said those words too many times for it to be real, like it had been taught and rehearsed in front of a mirror.

“You’re always so kind to me Bucky,” she said in a whisper, a lingering of remorse in her words that took him off guard. “I take up so much of your time here. I’m sure you have better things to do than pull glass from my hands. I bet even one of your interns could have done it.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Bucky teased, hoping to ease the obvious ache in her voice. He offered her an encouraging smile as he glanced down, realizing he was still holding her hands in his, though she made no movement to pull away. “I... I like when you take up my time.”

Bucky sighed, staring at her hands in his own, running careful fingers over the soft exposed skin, trying to gather some courage.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but I...” Bucky licked his lips, a nervous shake of his head, and he let the words he had been holding back since he met her tumble out. “I miss you when you’re not here. I don't ever want to see you hurt but... when you walk through the door, it’s the best part of my day. Everything is just better when you’re around. I don’t remember the last time I felt this way... about anyone.”

Bucky glanced back up at her to find her lips parted in shock and a longing behind her eyes that made his stomach weak.

“I... I don’t deserve that, Bucky.”

Her gaze fell down to his lips and Bucky swallowed.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he replied and it was the easiest thing he ever said. Her breath hitched at his words.

“Bucky, I--” she exhaled and he could feel it against his cheek. When he had moved this close to her? At what point did he start leaning in? When did she meet him halfway?

His hand had found its way up to her neck, gently running his thumb over her jawline until she met his eye, speckles of light returning between the colors in her iris the longer he held her like this. They were so close, unbearably so, that he noticed the undertones in her iris for the first time and the faint markings of a scar along her forehead. He could stare at her for hours and find new features to appreciate, to want to kiss and hold and love.

He’d never fallen for anyone so fast before and despite the laundry list of questionable ethics, he couldn’t help but want every part of her; her mind, her soul, her body, the sweet curve of her lips, and the sound of her laugh that had marked its home in his chest, the crinkles by her eyes and the curious way she enjoyed observing busy rooms. He wanted it all.

Bucky held himself against her, nose brushing over her cheek bone until his lips sat only a breath from hers. He could feel the uneven exhale of her breathing, shaking in the same anticipation he felt deep in his chest. Eyes glanced up to his, nervous, longing, and he ached for her in a way he didn’t know was possible. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned forward, his lips tingling at the thought of her, though he stilled his movements instantly when he glanced down and noticed a dark purple mark peeking out from under her shirt.

Bucky pulled back, eyes narrowing on the colored patch on the left side of her chest, hidden under her collar, only a sliver of what appeared to be a much larger pattern.

“Bucky?” she questioned cautiously, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mark. It wasn’t until she followed his line of sight that she realized the sleeve of her shirt had slipped a bit and exposed the secret lying underneath. She quickly adjusted her top covering up the bruise again, but the damage had been done. He had seen.

Bucky felt sick suddenly. Nausea creeping up in his stomach for the months that had gone by and he so foolishly missed the signs, too caught up in wanting to see her, in being thankful he could spend another few minutes just talking with her, that he didn’t stop to think about why she was coming in to the ED so often for an otherwise completely healthy woman. The way she referenced her husband, in the rare moments she did, was filled with a kind of hesitation, intimidation, she shouldn’t have carried for a man she loved. He hadn’t realized until now that he’d never even known her husband’s name until a few moments ago.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it; how it was possible that a woman who was so filled with wonder and joy and kindness when Bucky first met her that he was instantly captivated by her, could be the target of a vile man with no other outlet for her anger.

Bucky let his hand fall from her neck and he pulled it into his lap. It clenched into a fist that punctured his nails into his palm, but he was careful to hide it. He let out a heavy exhale, though that did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest.

“How long has your husband been hurting you?”

She sucked in a gasp, her entire body growing stiff. “I don’t-- W-Why would you ask that?”

“You don’t have to lie for him, doll,” Bucky implored softly, his hand sitting upon her thigh, thumb circling in soothing motions. Her gaze fell down to the movement of his hand, watching the tenderness in which he touched her, cared for her. It was unlike anything she was used to, and for the first time, Bucky knew why.

“Please, let me help you,” Bucky pressed. “You don’t have to go back to him. I won’t let him lay a hand on you again. I can—I can help you, doll.”

“Bucky,” she exhaled, his name a plea in her voice. “Leave this alone, please.”

“I can’t do that, Y/n. Not when I know he’s hurting you.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she snapped suddenly, words harsh in her voice though her eyes were wide and fearful. It was too rehearsed, almost conditioned, the way she made her voice stronger, edgier, than she felt. She couldn’t force her eyes to be as hard as her voice or the movement of her hand as she batted his away. She couldn’t lie to him through the shades of her iris he had grown to care for so much.

“Doll, I’m beggin’ you. You gotta let me--”

Y/n jumped off the bed suddenly, shoving Bucky aside to grab her bag from the counter. Her hands were shaking as she did so, wincing as she put too much pressure to her wrapped palms. Bucky stood cautiously, trying to make his stature a little smaller, less intimidating, as he approached her. He reached a hand out to her shoulder.

“Y/n, please--”

“Drop it, Bucky. There’s nothing you can do,” she urged, a panic replacing the faux constructed offense and Bucky saw a glimpse of fear in her features that nearly made his legs give out.

Before he could have a chance to beg her to stay again, she pushed open the door and disappeared out into the crowd. He stared at the door as it closed behind her, frozen in a state of shock and panic for this woman who was so intent to go back to the man who kept sending her here.

Bucky snapped himself back to reality and chased out after her, calling her name as she pushed past the crowd of interns, bumping into their shoulders in haste. She didn’t hold up. Light blue scrubs dove out of his way when they saw Bucky running in their direction.

“Y/n, wait!”

He was stuck behind a gurney that had been wheeled out into the hall and she was suddenly down by the double doors. She glanced back at him, an unreadable expression on her face as she turned and pushed her way outside.

His heart in his throat, Bucky desperately tried to swing around the sides of the bed before he just lunged over the top, much to the annoyance of the nurses, and practically sprinted down the hall. An administrator carrying a dozen files in his hand nearly had to jump out of Bucky’s way as he ran past, clinging tightly to the stack of papers.

Panic surged in his veins when he couldn’t find her down by the doors. He slammed his shoulder into the release and stumbled out into the busy street. Ambulances lined up at the drop off point, pedestrians walking by, family members of patients sitting on the bench, and the man Bucky had been attending to earlier smoking off in the corner, still wearing his hospital gown.

But not Y/n.

Bucky raked his hands through his hair, eyes darting down the street in both directions. She was nowhere. She was gone.

“Shit!”

“What the hell is your problem?” Steve grumbled behind him, having followed him outside upon noticing the commotion. “You’re scaring the patients.”

“I need Y/n’s records,” Bucky said, shoving past Steve and ignoring his question. He could sense Steve on his heels as he raced back to the nurses’ station and rapidly began typing in the computer. It took some digging, her records not being readily available in the system, but he found them.

“Fuck.” He slumped back into the chair, his hand darting to brush over his parted lips.

Prior to her first visit to Bucky several months ago, she had shown up in various EDs in Seattle, one every few months for at least a year, and then to Washington, D.C, for the last two years where she’d been treated for broken bones, a fractured rib, and internal bruising.

She’d also been in New York for longer than she let on, using Urgent Cares and EDs from outside the hospital’s network before she met him. For some reason, when she met Bucky, she stopped her pattern of using different emergency rooms. It was the first time she went to the same place consistently for more than two visits.

She broke her pattern for him.

“You want to tell me what's going on?” Steve raised an eyebrow, hands planted firmly on his hip, though his features began to soften when he noticed the wave of desolation in Bucky’s face.

“I fucked up, Steve. I really fucked up.”

***

“I can’t tell whether or not it’s worse that she hasn’t come back yet,” Sam said as he jumped up to sit on the countertop of the nurses’ station. It was nearing two in the morning and he broke open his second bag of chips. It was a slow night and those didn’t sit well with Bucky. It gave him too much time to think.

“I should have fucking seen the signs,” Bucky grumbled to himself, words that he’s repeated consistently since he saw Y/n last. It had been nearly three weeks since she ran out of the ED on him. Three weeks of constant anxiety, of looking over his shoulder to the door, of expecting the absolute worst. “How many months was she coming in here with those injuries? Why the hell didn’t I realize it sooner? Am I just that fucking naïve?”

“It’s not your fault, Buck,” Steve said calmly. “None of us saw it either.”

“I just wish she had a phone number or an address listed in the chart so I could at least make sure she’s okay,” Bucky conceded for the moment, though he knew the voice in that back of his head would return soon enough to remind him of his failure. “It’s the not knowing that’s killing me. I keep checking the papers thinking I might find her name in there one day, that her asshole husband will have taken it too far and I didn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

“We’re not mandated reporters in New York state, Buck,” Steve reminded his friend. “We’ve been over this. You can only break HIPPA to report abuse of vulnerable populations; children, the elderly, mentally disabled. Y/n doesn’t fall in those categories so--”

“Am I just supposed to sit here with this knowledge that her husband is the reason she’s been in and out of this ED for the last six months, then?” Bucky grunted, raking his hands through his hair hard enough to tug out a few strands.

“If she’s not willing to press charges, there’s nothing the police can do,” Sam added, his voice a little softer than usual, more careful. “You have the evidence she’ll need if she ever does. You can even testify for her if it comes to that. But until then, you gotta sit still. Unfortunately, with shit like this, she’ll be back eventually.”

***

Another week passed by and still nothing. Bucky threw himself into every shift he could possibly pick up on the off chance Y/n might come back to the ED. He couldn’t risk not being here if she did. Dark circles hung under his eyes and he spent more nights sleeping in on call rooms than his own apartment. Steve was nearing kicking him out of the hospital for a week straight when Bucky finally agreed to take a day off. He slept nearly sixteen hours that night.

“Dr. Barnes?” Wanda called from across the hall. She handed him the chart of a twelve year old girl with what appeared to be a case of the flu judging by the redness in her nose, the cold sweats, and a general green color in her skin.

Bucky pushed out a smile that didn’t come as easily these days and knelt by the bed. “Hey kiddo, how you feeling?”

“Not good,” the girl murmured, clenching at her mother’s hand.

“We’ll get that sorted out for you, okay?” Bucky pulled out his stethoscope and pressed the cool end to the girl’s back, asking she take in a deep breath. Then, he took her temperature just to confirm his suspicions, and when it read 101.3, he grimaced towards the girl's mom. “I’m going to go ahead and prescribe an antiviral and hopefully we can get this flu under control.” He turned back to the girl. “That sound good to you, princess?”

The girl nodded sheepishly and curled into her mother’s side.

“Thank you, Dr. Barnes,” the mom said, offering a smile in Bucky’s direction as she moved to pull her daughter into her arms. He nodded, and turned to hand the chart over to the nurse to assist with discharge when he found Sam waiting behind him. He wore a nervous kind of look on his face that made Bucky narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“What’s your deal?”

“I need you to come with me,” Sam replied, his voice short though there was a lingering concern in his words that Bucky wasn’t quite used to. Having spent so much time ridiculing and teasing one another despite the fact that they were actually friends, he knew enough to drop his guard when Sam came to him in this voice.

Bucky nodded, following Sam down the hall to the exam room with the closed door. Sam put his hand on the knob, but he paused before turning it.

“I need you to take a breath,” Sam instructed and Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Buck. You need to be in control when you walk in this room.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bucky groaned, his patience growing thin.

“It’s Y/n,” Sam said and it was enough for all of Bucky’s defenses to fall. “It’s... it’s not great, man. But this is what I was talking about. She’s back and she needs you right now. Okay? So, take a breath. Please.”

Bucky nodded quickly, sucking in a deep breath to his lungs though it came in shaky. He wondered when these feelings had developed strong enough to make him this terrified to see you again; to have to wonder what Sam meant by ‘not great’ and sit with that mental image for a moment too long before the door finally opened for him.

Sam stood outside, closing the door behind Bucky as he entered. It was dark inside the exam room, the shades drawn and only the lamp by the desk illuminating the space. Y/n stood just a few feet from him, her back to him as she held her arms wrapped around her waist.

“Y/n?” Bucky called cautiously, though she didn’t move to face him. He took a step closer.

“Wait,” she blurted out. He watched as her breaths came in heavy waves through her shoulders. “Just... please don’t be angry with me.”

Bucky’s heart fell, his chest aching painfully at the very thought. “I could never.”

With a heavy sigh, a brief nod to herself, Y/n began to turn around. She kept her head down, hair shielding over her face, and there was a slight tremor in her hands as she gripped at her forearms crossed over her waist. Bucky took a careful step forward, so that he was standing close enough to see the hairs standing up on her arms and the hear the rustled intakes of her breaths.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” he encouraged softly, trying to keep himself calm despite the anxiety rushing through him. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly and slowly allowed herself to lift her head, her hair falling away from her face and Bucky bit down so hard on his cheek he drew blood.

A dark purple bruise marked over her cheek bone, extending in angry red vein-like lines down the sides of her face from the swelling. Her lip was busted open down the center, dried blood caked in the cracks. But worse than that, her eyes were red, filled with tears that sent a painful stab straight to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky reached out, so tenderly, so slowly, that it felt like a century before his hand grazed against the side of her face. She closed her eyes at the touch, leaning into him as he looked over the bruising, searching for further injury. His thumb traced over her jawline, his hand setting against her collarbone, as he hoped to sooth her while he examined the wounds.

He let out a heavy sigh and pulled his hand back. The subtle gasp she let slip didn’t pass his notice and he wondered if he should reach out again. He parted his lips to tell her that nothing appeared to be broken, that the swelling and bruising made it look worse than it was, but the words fell heavy on his tongue. Nothing he could say could make this any easier. It didn’t matter if it would heal on its own in a matter of a month or two, because the damage had come from someone she was supposed to trust, supposed to love. There was no repairing that. Even if it had been happening for years. It wasn’t any easier.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she whimpered as the tears began to well over her lashing as cascaded against her checks. Bucky shook his head rapidly, not wanting for her to apologize for a single thing, but she continued before he had a chance to interject. “B-Brock... he knows. He knows I’ve b-been coming here. I’m n-never supposed to go to the same place more than twice but I... I was selfish and- and I wanted to see you again. I c-couldn't stop wanting to see you.”

A sob racked through her and the sound nearly broke Bucky straight in half. On pure instinct he reached out and gathered Y/n in his arms, surprised to find that she came against him willingly, her hands gripping tightly at his scrubs, face pressed into the crook of his neck as he ran his fingers down her back in long sweeping motions.

“I’m right here. You’re okay, doll,” Bucky cooed, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?”

She nodded against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hands spread against his back, bunching into the fabric of his dark blue scrub shirt and Bucky realized she was trying to ground herself. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head without thinking much of it and his breathe hitched when he realized what he had done. Though it seemed, at the gesture, her whole body seemed to relax, muscles losing their tension and her grip on his shirt becoming less tight.

After some time passed and Y/n’s cries had fallen silent, her breathing coming in at a normal rate, Bucky spoke up.

“Does he have consent for your records?”

Y/n didn’t pull away from him, mumbling against his chest, “he made me sign for it.”

“Okay,” Bucky exhaled, a slight relief at the plan formulating in his head. “We need to go in and revoke that as soon as possible. I’ll make sure everyone in this hospital knows not to give your information to him if he shows up. If we revoke consent, no one can even tell him if you’re here if he asks. Okay?”

Bucky started to pull away, just to help lead her to the door so he could get access to a computer, but she clenched her grip on him reflexively.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, doll,” Bucky soothed, his hand rubbing in soft circles on her back. “I won’t leave your side. Think you can come to the hallway with me? I’ll take you behind the nurses’ station so you’re out of the way of the patients. That alright?”

“Y-yeah,” she conceded, nodding to herself. She let her arms fall from his waist and brushed at the dried tear tracks reflecting on her cheeks. She winced when she grazed over the bruise mark too hard. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, doll,” Bucky said encouragingly in light of the heat boiling in his chest, wondering how long it took her husband to condition her to apologize so often. He could barely stand to think about how this woman who stole his breath away from the moment he met her, who was a filled with such light, could be extinguished by a man who was supposed to love her.

Bucky extended his hand to her, part of him wanting to make sure she had a way to ground herself outside of the room and a more selfish side of him just wanting to hold onto her a little longer. She stared at his hand for a moment, a look of relief on her face, as she took it carefully in her own.

“If it gets to be too much, you just let me know, alright?”

Y/n nodded, pushing out a smile that fell quickly from the pain in her broken lip. Bucky sighed, restraining the part of himself that urged to bring their intertwined hands to his lips and kiss at her knuckles. Instead, he pushed open the door, florescent lighting blinding for a moment as the chaos of the ED came back into view.

He felt a squeeze in his hand as he stepped out into the hallway and Y/n followed closely behind. Her other hand snaked its way across her and hooked onto Bucky’s forearm. She glanced up at him nervously, almost as if she was silently asking it this was okay, and he smiled encouragingly at her, nodding. She exhaled in relief as he helped weave her through the crowd.

Sam noticed them coming in the direction of the nurses’ station first. He raised an eyebrow and set down the chart he had been reading.

“Everything okay?” he asked as Bucky led Y/n around the back entrance and helped her settle into the chair Nurse Hill usually occupied.

“Revoking consent,” Bucky said as Y/n released his hand reluctantly so he could type his password into the computer. “Where’s Steve?”

“He’s been telling staff not to give out any info on Y/n since she got here. The ED’s on lockdown from that asshole as far as we’re concerned,” Sam replied, throwing a half-etched smile in Y/n’s direction. She struggled to lift the corners of her lips but he could tell she was appreciative nonetheless.

Bucky finished clicking a few boxes on the computer and he passed over a touch screen to Y/n. “Just need your signature, doll, and we’re done.”

She took the pen from his hand and quickly scribbled her name onto the pad. He noticed the hyphenated end of her name, his name, was illegible compared to the rest. She pressed her lips into a thin line when she was done and handed the pen back to Bucky. His fingers grazed over hers a moment longer than necessary.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Sam asked, breaking through the tension that kept Bucky’s eyes drawn into Y/n’s.

Y/n shook her head. “No, I, uh... I don’t have friends around here and I haven’t spoken to my family in years.”

Sam sent a nervous look in Bucky’s direction, unsure of what to do next. This wasn’t typically his wheelhouse. First instinct was to call in social services, but he knew Bucky would want to be at the forefront of this.

“We’ll figure something out,” Bucky said reassuringly. “You can stay here with us until my shift’s up and we’ll go from there, alright? If that’s what you want...”

Y/n nodded quickly, a solace relaxing the apprehension in her muscles.

“Okay,” Bucky said, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Things were coming together. This mess had a few strings that could be tied to knots. There was a plan, at least, and she wanted him to be next to her through it. It was all that mattered right now.

Despite the break in her lips, Y/n started to smile back at him, a flicker of light returning to her eye that Bucky adored so much. Though it fell away instantly when a voice rang out through the ED and a surge of panic coursed over her features.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WIFE?”

Bucky’s eyes darted over to the entrance of the ED where a man, over six feet in height and a growl tearing through him like a rapid dog, shoved aside two nurses attempting to calm him down. One glance back at Y/n, who had sunk so far down into her chair in an effort to hide herself behind the barrier, and Bucky knew instantly that this man was her husband.

Brock Rumlow.

“You have no goddamn right!” Rumlow bellowed, his voice echoing down the halls and drawing the attention of at least a dozen patients and staff. “I know she’s fucking here! Tell me where she is!”

A rage boiled deep in Bucky’s chest when he noticed the red marks on Rumlow’s right hand; marks he had obtained from the abuse he doled out to the woman he was supposed to love. Bucky's breaths were coming in too fast, his hands clenching into fists so tight it punctured his palm with his nails. Before he could take a moment to think, he shoved his way out to the hall and away from the nurses’ station, stalking in Rumlow’s direction.

“I’m going to need you to calm down,” Bucky seethed, clenching his teeth in an effort to control his voice, though it didn’t do much good. Rumlow paused, shaking off one of the nurses as he straightened his back, sizing Bucky up.

“Tell me where my wife is and we’ll be on our way,” Rumlow drawled, his eyes glancing down the series of cots.

“We cannot confirm or deny if your wife is here, sir.”

“Bullshit,” he spat, face boiling red.

“You’re scaring our patients,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “Calm down, or leave.”

“Fuck you,” Rumlow grunted and he attempted to push past Bucky, though he was met with a hard shove.

“Don’t make me call for security to escort you out.”

“Security?” Rumlow scoffed. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are but--” His eyes widened, locking in on something over Bucky’s shoulder. “Y/n! There you are baby!”

Bucky’s stomach dropped as Rumlow caught sight of Sam attempting to sneak Y/n back to the closed room at the end of the hall. Sam quickly stepped out in front of her, shielding her from Rumlow’s view as she did her best to hide behind him. A sickening smirk pulled at Rumlow’s mouth and he moved, once again, to push past Bucky but found he was met with a wall of hardened muscle.

“Don’t even fucking think about going near her,” Bucky growled, putting a hand on Rumlow’s chest and shoving him back a few paces. Bucky stole a quick glance back at Y/n, who had peaked around Sam’s arm, and tried to convey a lifetime of apologies for allowing this man even lay eyes on her again. She didn’t even spare Rumlow a second look, focused solely on Bucky.

Rumlow’s eyes narrowed, gaze darting from Bucky to Y/n, watching the silent conversation held in their stare. He cracked his neck to the side as his upper lip began to twitch.

“So, you’re the asshole that’s been putting garbage in my wife’s head,” Rumlow taunted, spit flying from his mouth like a rabid dog. “Yeah, that’s right. I know about you. I know you’re trying to steal my wife from me. But newsflash, asshole! She’s mine!”

“She’s not your property, you piece of shit,” Bucky fumed, his cheeks growing hot with the rage coursing in his veins.

Rumlow let out an animalistic growl and he charged full force in Bucky’s direction, throwing a fist straight at the left side of his face. Bucky dodged it easily, bending down and shoving his shoulder into Rumlow’s gut and sending the both of them spiraling to the ground.

Chaos erupted as patients began to scream, nurses and interns darted out of their way as Bucky held Rumlow down by his collar and punched him square in the jaw. Blood spat from Rumlow’s mouth and he tried to get a grasp on Bucky before he took another swing, but he wasn’t coordinated enough for that. It seemed he was only able to attack when his victim didn’t fight back.

Bucky could barely see straight, red clouding in his vision, until he felt strong hands grabbing at his shoulders and yanking him off the ground. Two security guards hulled Rumlow off of the floor and restrained him by the arms as Bucky tried to shake off whoever was lugging him backwards.

“Buck! Stop!” Steve shouted into Bucky’s ear and Bucky stilled immediately.

Steve released his grasp and suddenly Y/n came crashing against him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist as Bucky stumbled back a step at the impact. He froze, caught off guard for a minute, arms stretched out to the side as he looked down to find her shaking, before he let himself hold her.

“Hey, I’m alright,” Bucky whispered so only she could hear. She squeezed him tighter in response, her face tucking into his neck and he could feel the stain of tears against his skin.

“I’ll fucking kill you! You hear me, bitch! I’ll kill you!” Rumlow roared, pulling against the security guards holding his arms back. Y/n flinched at his words, unable to even steal a glance in his direction, and Bucky tightened his grip on her, turning their bodies so she wasn’t in Rumlow’s direct line of sight. Bucky ran his hands along Y/n’s back, urging her to walk with him away from the scene.

As Rumlow continued to shout obscenities, Bucky glanced back over his shoulder to find security handcuffing him and Steve towering over as they restrained him to his knees. Patients and staff members parted alike as Bucky gently pulled Y/n along down the hall towards the exam room. He whispered endless apologies into her hair as he led her to the door. Once they were inside, Y/n let her hands fall away from his waist and they quickly jumped up to grasp the sides of his face.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked anxiously, eyes darting over his face. Bucky pressed out a sad smile, reaching up to her wrists and pulling her hands away from his cheeks.

“I’m okay, doll, I promise.”

She nodded, though he could tell she didn’t quite believe him. She took a few steps away from him, her hands falling from his outstretched grasp and he missed the contact instantly. One arm crossed over her waist and the other pressed up against her lips as she shook her head, like she was trying to contain words from spilling out. Bucky watched silently, unsure of what to say.

“I should never have dragged you into this,” she finally said, a heavy sigh in her words. She turned her back to him. “I don’t know how he even found out about you, that I’ve been coming to see you.”

“But we never... we didn’t... um,” Bucky stammered awkwardly, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Y/n turned around slowly, her eyes downcast in shame as she nervously picked at the ends of her shirt. “There are other ways to be unfaithful, Bucky.”

Bucky’s heart skipped as she met his eye, that longing he had been seeing hidden behind her iris’s for so long, now so abundantly clear.

“At first I thought maybe I was just confusing these feelings with the relief of someone, anyone, just being as kind and as gentle as you were to me when we first met,” she started. “I thought maybe I was just misplacing this need I had to be touched with something other than... other than cruel intent onto you because you reminded me what it was like when someone was gentle, when a touch could bring goosebumps instead of bruises.”

Bucky nodded slowly, though he let her speak as he took a seat on the edge of the cot. He could tell it was difficult for her to get this out by the way her hands wrung against one another and the subtle quake in her voice. He tried to ignore the way his heart had picked up in pace the longer she spoke.

“But then I realized it was you,” she said, a littler strong now, more assured, and Bucky’s heart nearly stopped. She shook her head, almost in disbelief as she walked a pace closer to him until she stood between his legs. “It was your hands I wanted to put me back together, your face I wanted to see when I closed my eyes at night, your voice in the back of my mind. It was you.”

“Y/n...” her name slipped past his lips like a prayer.

“All that and I still ran from you when you tried to help me,” she sighed, chewing on the dried skin on her lip, just next to the split. “I’ve just been so caught up in this lie for Brock all these years that the second you saw through it, I got scared, thought maybe you’d change your mind about me, think I’m weak or... or foolish for staying with him.”

“I don’t think those things,” Bucky interjected quickly and she smiled sweetly at him, the smile that he had fallen so easily for.

“I know you don’t,” she said, her hand reaching up to brush over his hair and push it behind his ear to get a better view of his face. His skin tingled at the touch. “You reminded me what it was like to feel again, Bucky. I was so numb before I met you.”

Her lips pressed to the center of his forehead and Bucky exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“I don’t know what happens now, but I want you in my life,” she confessed, nervous eyes meeting his and Bucky quickly reached up to the hand cupping the side of his face to hold it in his lap. He brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently and pulling a smile from her he adored so much.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m right here,” he affirmed and her smile widened. “We’ll have to get you a new doc, though. I can’t be treating you after this.”

“I can handle that,” she replied quickly, chewing on the inside of her cheek to suppress the smile tugging at her split lip though it didn’t do much use.

“And your husband?” Bucky asked nervously, a wince pulling at the corners of his face in anticipation of losing her smile again, but it didn’t let up.

“Let him rot,” she replied confidently. “I’ve got enough evidence against him to put him away for years. Always thought I’d find the courage one day to use it.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile at that, the pride he felt warming his chest. He pulled her closer, pressing his lips to the crown of her hair as he enveloped her into his arms. She sighed against his neck, the warmth of her breath leaving goosebumps in their wake and Bucky sighed contently.

There were so many unanswered questions, so many next steps, but Bucky couldn’t find the energy to care about a single one of them in this moment with Y/n pulled tight to his chest, the sweet smell of her shampoo flooding his senses.

She nestled in tighter against him and he wondered if had fallen for the version of Y/n who had been numbed for so many years, how much more he could adore her when she was allowed to express every part of herself unimpeded.

It didn’t matter there were so many unknowns. There was too much to look forward to.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233

additional drabble 🌸

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #my writing #bucky fic #feel again #doctor au #bucky x female reader

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live-long-and-time-warp · 4 years ago

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It’s hard to leave your toxic friends... but it’s so worth it

I don’t normally do this, but as I sat in a Saturday morning meeting thinking about all of the things I felt this past Friday, I felt compelled to share my story.

A brief background: throughout college and for several years afterward, I considered my tight-knit group of college friends as some of my closest. In addition to my best friend of 20 years, some friends from high school, my work team, and some other dear friends scattered across the globe and throughout the U.S., this group of college friends was who I considered to be my foundation. This group of friends was extremely important to me, but it was not without its bumps in the road.

In my senior year of college, I had a falling out with one of these friends, the ringleader I’ll call her. I say this because she is quite honestly the source of 95% of my problems with this group. She is a master manipulator, and an expert gaslighter. There were a few others that contributed to this too, but she was by far the worst.

I can’t elaborate on every single thing that this person said and did over our 7 year “friendship” but a brief summary would be: asking me point blank if I thought I might be a lesbian after coming out as bi (to this friend group and in her presence, I might add) only several months prior; asking me how much money I spend on books about “Chernobyl” every month with the implication that she’s concerned about my finances; telling me that my resume may not be as impressive as I think it is (I’m the deputy director of a nonprofit with both state-based and national projects and had been for close to a year prior to this conversation); would clean up the crumbs from in front of me while I was still eating and comment on my messiness; told me that one of our mutual friends doesn’t like discussing politics with me because I get too fired up (again, I work for a nonprofit that deals with social justice); telling me that crying while comforting my friend who had just lost a loved one to suicide after they began crying was weird and that I “stole her thunder” (we were slightly drunk, I’m an empath, and she was talking about some deeply personal things that moved me and crying was my natural response... and oddly, she was appreciative of my tears because I was “the only person that actually stayed with her”); and so much more that I know I’m forgetting.

There were many other things more insidious, including gaslighting me about my inclusion in several group activities and why it should have been obvious why one friend disliked me enough to not invite me to her wedding after years of claiming cluelessness.

In our senior year, I left that friend for the first time after she humiliated me at a party by commenting loudly and with condescension on my weight. When I cut ties with her, I felt as if I had just left an abusive relationship, and for a while I didn’t want to seek a friendship with her again.

But the other friends in our group still hung out with both of us, so eventually I allowed myself to be sucked back in.

In the years after we graduated, I thought that this person had actually changed- I worked abroad for a year after college, and after returning I saw a marked difference in her demeanor and how she interacted with us. She seemed more self-aware of how her words and actions adversely affected other people, and I thought that maybe the ugliness of that horrible portion of my senior year was now just a faded scar.

But then things escalated very quickly. Over the course of several weeks at the beginning of this year, I started to feel myself questioning whether I had made the right choice in rejoining the group: I was so sure of how I felt after I left it the first time, I felt so empowered and free. So why did I allow myself to rejoin them? Was it really the right choice?

I got my answer a week after the insurrection at the Capitol. One friend who already had a history of saying hateful things about women (which I tried to put a stop to to no avail) finally went full white supremacist asshole, and instead of joining me in calling his comments unacceptable and defending me as he mansplained my job to me, the ringleader criticized me and told me that “I can work in activism and politics and be wrong”.

That’s the moment I finally woke up.

I left the chat that very moment. Every time they added me back without my consent, I left again.

Every time I got message from the ringleader that was full of gaslighting comments and false apologies, I didn’t say a word. Just deleted the message. Finally, I was able to gather the strength needed to block those toxic friends from all social media and my phone. One of these friends was someone I tried to make like me for years after I was told that she hated me for no reason, by her own admission.

Some may not agree with this approach, but I made the choice to cut contact and go radio silent on my own after consulting my friends, specifically my best friend who had been there for me during the incident my senior year.

As weeks went by, some of the true friends from that group reached out, and then immediately backed off after my polite request for space, indicating that I was welcome back at any time and they were always here for me.

The ringleader chose the opposite approach. She continued to gaslight me, made a group chat with myself, the white supremacist, and herself. She sent me messages from her second account, one that I remembered to unfriend but forgot to block. She told me that if I don’t “course correct” by a certain date she would block me on my account (too late, bro) and that “we wish you all the best”. This implies that it was on behalf of the entire group, something I know three of them would never do. However, at this point, I have had to distance myself from all of those friends so as not to give the ringleader the attention she wants from me.

I lost over half of my closest friends over night. It felt like my skeleton had been torn from my body. I considered giving in several times and reaching out to them. But now, over a month later, I understand how necessary it was to excise what was essentially a malignant tumor. The Chernobyl researcher in me wants to compare it to Acute Radiation Syndrome (ARS): an unseen poison that slowly infiltrates every part of your mind and body and rots them from the inside out.

2020 was an extremely hard year for me, as it was for so many. I am so lucky and privileged to have been in the financial situation that I was and had the support of my genuine friends and family.

But it was still the worst year of my life. I have suffered from pretty bad OCD for most of my life, and while I usually keep it under control, last year it became nearly impossible to do so. I also fell very deeply into clinical depression, and worked to the point of burn out and exhaustion. The primary thoughts I had during this depression were:

“Why aren’t you working? You’re lazy.”

“You’re a failure, you’re 26 and haven’t applied to grad school yet.”

“You piece of shit, still living with your parents? What a disappointment.”

“What is wrong with you?”

It was unbearable. I’m honestly not entirely sure how I survived it, but I think a certain 3-year-old goddaughter of mine and a few close, real friends had something to do with it.

I worked very hard with my friends, a therapist, and a psychiatrist to overcome this depression and get my OCD back under control. Now, I feel like such a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I still have depression, and the OCD will always be with me (like a bad habit... literally?); but I am so much more happy with myself and my life, as I should be.

And I am very, very, very well aware that therapy was not the only reason I have recently begun feeling this way. It’s very hard to see that you’re being manipulated while it’s happening. Because of my trusting nature, sometimes manipulative comments would be interpreted as heartfelt guidance.

It wasn’t until I started the journey away from them that I saw just how much this group and their negativity (because even the best of them weren’t always the kindest) impacted my mental health.

The event that made me want to share this story is this: yesterday was a rough work day. As a full-time community organizer, I am pretty much burnt out all of the time. Breaks are taken, but with projects addressing issues from COVID relief to systemic racism and police brutality, it never feels like enough.

I had to officially take a step back as a sole lead on an annual event that I organized for two years, and it was gut-wrenching.

Now, I cry often, but I don’t usually get to have therapeutic cries. You know what I mean? Like, as you cry, all of the tension that built up in your body by negative feelings is finally being released with every breath and sob?

Well, the dam finally broke in a team meeting on Friday. I started sobbing and couldn’t stop. And my colleagues were so, so kind. They let me vent, they let me cry, they would not accept my apologies for crying. They told me that I was strong for setting up boundaries, and that they were here for me.

We spent a lot of time at the end of the meeting each talking about our self-care routines. And as I sit here typing this, I am actively trying not to cry at the purity of their support.

This experience has taught me what real friends are. Real friends do not put limitations on your emotions and fears.

Real friends do not give you deadlines for processing your feelings.

Real friends do not criticize you for things that, while they may not agree with, do not affect anyone’s health or marginalize anyone.

Real friends don’t marginalize vulnerable communities.

Real friends help and support you with constructive criticism (when it’s asked for) and love, not patronization and manipulation.

I thought I knew all of these things before, but I know now that I am still learning... and that that is perfectly okay. I don’t regret most of the times we shared together. I am appreciative of the positive memories that their friendships gave me.

Three of the friends in this group are actually good people, and maybe one day when the dust is settled I’ll reach out to them and establish one-on-one friendships with them (if they want to).

And I have to thank my real friends, including @tryingtobealwaystrying, for all saying the exact same thing: you deserve so much happiness and fuck all of those guys.

So, the point of this post is to tell everyone this: you can leave your toxic friends. It’s incredibly difficult, stressful, and honestly traumatizing. And there’s no shame in needing time or feeling unable to leave those friends now. There’s also no shame in returning to those friends.

But please know, from this nerd to the reader: anyone that makes you feel any less than the beautiful, amazing human being you are and doesn’t want to help you become an even better human on your own terms is not a true friend. They don’t deserve you or the light you can bring into their lives.

And every agonizing step away from those friends is a step closer to a happier, healthier life.

#toxic frienship #mental health #living with ocd #depression #storytime

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mousehole5000 · 4 years ago

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more tgcf chapters 143-173 lets goooooo

PEI MING BOO HISS except actually okay he’s mostly funny i think but still boo hiss

“hey who’s this guy who’s really pissed at you?” “oh thats my sword. i broke it.” alright then!

i think i need to go back and reread the banyue pass arc bc im still confused as to whats going on with banyue and pei su

“Banyue dropped from the sky with two pots raised. Without a word, she plummeted with the mouths of the pots facing down, trapping and detaining the shocked Ming’guang and the roaring Ke Mo within.” - THATS MY GIRL

“It must be known that, to heavenly officials, it certainly was more than natural for kingdoms of the mortal realm to fight and annihilate one another; the acts of these plays progressing on endlessly. But when it came their own turn, it was often hard to let things go. If one must stand in the same court as the one who annihilated their own kingdom, and that man cavorted in the heavens, exceedingly flashy, then it must be vexing.” - hmmmm!!

“I’ve spoken too many words in this lifetime. What are you referring to?” - okay to be fair thats a mood

okay its nice to get some pei ming backstory and its funny that he and xie lian are bonding but also still whenever pei ming interacts with a female character my hackles rise like a cat lol

“Xie Lian watched as Banyue thought really hard before cheerfully pulling out a few long, wine-red scorpion-snakes, and putting them into the bubbling pot.” - THATS MY GIRL

“Although “smell” was something colourless and formless, the instant Banyue removed the pot cover, it was as if some mysterious physical object had twisted all the air around the mouth of that pot. The group stared at the sight within the pot for a long time. Their pupils reflected an endless, bottomless darkness; like it could pull them into the abyss. No words could describe the sentiment expressed within their eyes. A moment later, Xie Lian patted Banyue’s shoulder and gave a thumbs-up.” - like father-figure like daughter-figure. amazing.

“However, what if one day mortals discovered something completely new that ran faster than horses? Then, when this new invention overtook horses, worshippers of this heavenly official who controlled horses would inevitably decrease. Such heavenly officials, flashing by like shooting stars, made up the majority of the heavens.” - obsessed with this, genuinely. life and change. worship and its purpose. my religious studies diploma on my wall is screaming at me rn. ALSO i am once again thinking about celebrities

“...” It was only then that Pei Ming seemed to notice, and started to contemplate this question. A moment later, he answered, “A habit. In a dark, creepy place like this, isn’t it normal to hold women in your arms, to comfort them and calm their fears?” “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t scared,” Banyue said.” - BANYUE I LOVE YOU. I MISSED YOU SO MUCH. god this takes me back to every college party i ever went to

LING WEN BACKSTORY????? shoeseller chosen for godhood bc she wrote a political essay and got arrested...... and now she’s face to face with the official who appointed her..... do go on.....

“Ling Wen laughed out loud, seeming to be enraged, and her voice dropped. “Very well! You said I couldn’t reach that high. Then, might I ask you: had the prominence of the Palace of Jing Wen at its peak ever reached even the knees of my Palace of Ling Wen??” - GET HIM!!!! BOO HISS JING WEN

“Compared to you, I’m not that bad,” Ling Wen said. “You’d personally order me to stay in the Palace of Jing Wen until midnight, then turn around and say I shamelessly hang around ‘til late to harass you. Words murder without form; I was much nicer responding with blatant violence.” - ling wen im love you..... also this bit... feels Real

BLOOD RAIN BLOOD RAIN BLOOD RAIN!! FLOWER PETALS TRANSFORMATION!!! see hua cheng? look as how cool it can be when you leave the story for a little while!! bc then you get to return and make an entrance!!

“Not only can you bring forth bloody rain, you can also make flowers shower. I didn’t know that. How fun!” - cute!! and in that moment we were all xie lian

“Everyone was stunned by his deed, and Ling Wen arduously gave him a thumbs-up. ”Ol’ Pei, what a man!” Pei Ming gritted his teeth. “WELCOME!” - aww three two tumors buddies!!

okay yin yu is here and xie lian did the equivalent of asking someone when the baby is due only to find out theyre not pregnant at all. then rong guang taunts yin yu and no one says anything. i do love the amount of awkward moments in this book tbh sometimes there are no words.

“All around was sand and mud crushing at him, exceedingly suffocating. The sand and mud was also moving endlessly; the feeling was like he was swallowed into the stomach of a giant monster, and that monster had also eaten a bunch of other things besides him, tumbling everything in its stomach, trying to digest” - ooooh creepy!!! the red string thing... is cute.... also xie lian being able to see hua cheng’s butterfly vision by looking directly into his eye is kinda cool. and obviously homoerotic.

“Are lower-ranked heavenly officials below other people?” Quan Yizhen asked. “No,” Yin Yu replied. Were they not? It was obvious that he himself didn’t believe in his own words, and Quan Yizhen also noticed. A good while later, he said bluntly, “I don’t like it here.” Yin Yu said nothing.” - im having emotions. and then yin yu also saying he doesnt like it there either.... also idk how this scene is going to play out but as much as im enjoying quan yizhen being an icon i can also possibly see how yin yu could eventually get to the point of “i am tired of being nice. i do just want to go apeshit” even if he really cares about qyz. it happens </3

“Indeed,” Hua Cheng said. “Half a year later when Quan Yizhen actually ascends, he won’t find it so funny anymore.” “Can we watch that part too?” Xie Lian asked. “We can. Hold on,” Hua Cheng replied.” - quan yizhen king of taking things literally. also why did this turn into hualian having a movie night

jian yu seems like the kind of asshole who would purposely give someone regular soda when they specifically asked for diet soda. god yin yu is really having a bad day i really feel for him in the whole situation with the brocade immortal

awww okay at least jian yu tried to take responsibility. im still mad at him tho that was objectively a terrible idea. god this whole situation sucked :(

“Rocks and earth crushed at them from all around, forcing their bodies to press tightly against one another, their faces brushing, their ears warm. Although it wasn’t the right time, a thought flashed through Xie Lian’s mind: “‘To die buried together’ doesn’t feel so bad.” - okay... im kind of emotional.... gay people....

okay obviously these murals and the prince of wuyong have some connection (im guessing pretty direct) to xie lian and are important but everytime they start analyzing one i feel like im back in art history class fhadskfhskjdhf not that thats a bad thing!! i liked art history a lot tbh

“Don’t worry, they’re not human,” Hua Cheng said. “It’s precisely because they’re not human that we have to worry, alright….” Xie Lian thought.” - goth ghost bf problems

xie lian: well, there is one person i trust more than anyone else, someone who’s first in my mind hua cheng, oblivious: oh :/ xie lian, also oblivious: what? hua cheng: you shouldnt trust so easily its dangerous xie lian: oh. haha. yeah. well. wanna,,, know who it is? hua cheng: its :) fine :) it :) doesnt :) matter :) but of course you can tell me if you want to gege xie lian, internally: well now ive made it weird hua cheng, 5 minutes later: actually i need you to tell me. right now. its totally for your security me: gay people smh

“As they suspected, he had been captured by Qi Rong. Although no one was bound by ropes, there were balls of greasily green ghost fires hovering over every one of their heads.” - completely off track but anybody else remember the great green globs of greasy grimy gopher guts song

“Could there actually come a day when Qi Rong was embarrassed that someone might see the manner in which he ate? Before Xuan Ji entered, she put Guzi down. Guzi, ta-ta-ta, ran in, rushing straight to Qi Rong’s side. But when he saw him, he pointed his finger. He cried, “Dad is eating bad things in secret again!” “I’m not!” Qi Rong retaliated.” SCREAM IS QI RONG LEARNING THE POWER OF LOVE NOOOO also god that poor man whose body he has im starting to doubt if he’ll ever be free jimmy novak flashbacks

everytime we get another ghost king power somewhere someone should be writing hua cheng the cyborg bf in a high tech futuristic au i think thats the only other potential setting that could truly capture this wild ride

“In truth, throughout history, there was no man in the world who didn’t love bragging. A breeze could blow the handkerchief of a brothel girl into a man’s hand, and he would turn around and say the most beautiful of renowned escorts had fallen in love with him; holding shoes and wiping benches for the emperor’s mistress’s uncle’s grandson’s cousin’s mistress would for sure become him being an important administrator at the residence of royal relatives, raising his status. Thus, men who didn’t brag were a rare species.” - SCREAM this is going in my favorite tgcf quotes folder god... mxtx come here let me shake your hand

read the story of rain master yushi huang’s ascension. why am i crying. also this bit im crying again me with my stuffed animals “Thus, while Yushi Huang was cultivating at the Temple of Yulong, every time when she went to seek water and passed that door, she would rub the head of that ox. The door knocker soaked in her essence of life, and when the Rain Master ascended, the ox ascended with her.”

okay thats enough for now i have 7 more chapters to book 4!!! woo!!!

#tgcf liveblog #bedtime now but im excited to be moving on #mouse mumbles

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azure-firecracker · 4 years ago

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What would Kate and Eva do if they were the only ones who got trapped in the basement with Riley?

OOH I LOVE THIS ONE AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TW: Blood, pain, graphic descriptions of stabbing, knives, mentions of murder.

@thatboleyngirlreads this wasn’t written for you specifically, but I thought you might enjoy this one.

Kate sighed as she plopped back down on the sofa next to Eva. Annleigh and Reeses were still upstairs getting ice with Riley and Cairo, which made for a very awkward dynamic between the two.

Kate glanced over at their new flyer. She was pretty, Kate could admit that. Maybe even beautiful. No, definitely beautiful.

Wait, was she blushing?

“I like your pin.” As she said this, Kate felt her face growing hotter and hotter. “Oh crap. I literally already said that, I...”

Eva laughed. Of course she had a pretty laugh, too. “Hey, it’s all good. It’s been a crazy night.”

Kate grinned, rolling her eyes. “Now that’s an understatement.”

A noise at the top of the steps pulled both their attention away from one another. Riley had just come back into the room, wearing her usual enormous smile and closing the door behind her as she entered.

“Thank you so much for coming back here! I know it’ll be a bit hard, but...”

“I...just came to get my things.”

Riley’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Where are Cairo and Reeses and Annleigh?”

RIley’s perky smile came right back, but it almost looked forced. Kate couldn’t blame her. It had been a long night. “Oh, they’re still getting ice. They’ll be right down.”

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something felt wrong. “Well, we can’t practice without them.”

“Right! Good point!” She turned to the door, ponytail bouncing. She turned the knob, but instead of opening the door, she kept jiggling it like she was in a bad comedy movie. She turned around, looking slightly scared. “All right, very funny. Who locked the door?”

“WHAT?!” The girls spoke at the same time. Kate felt fear filling up her body. This wasn’t good.

Eva leapt up from the couch. “Well, is there a key or something?”

Riley nodded, looking around frantically. “Yes! There is a key...somewhere...in this basement, and I will find it! In the meantime, you can try to...uh...text Cairo and Annleigh, and see if they can let us out!”

Snapping out of her haze, Kate whipped out her phone and began trying to access her messages. Her hands were shaking, but she felt Eva’s hand on her shoulder, which helped calm her down a little.

“Why is the WiFi not working?”

Eva turned to her, panic starting to really take over her face. “There’s no cell service?”

“Not in the basement!”

Kate sighed, slumping back against the sofa. “Well what the fuck are we supposed to do now?”

Eva clapped her hands together, clearly trying not to believe the worst. Not in a fake peppy sort of way like Riley, but in a trying to see some semblance of hope sort of way. “Well, I mean...they’ve got to notice we’re gone soon enough.”

“No they won’t.” The sound of Riley’s voice, darker than usual, from the other side of the room, startled Kate and nearly made her jump. “They got their stuff already. You two were so busy trying to stop them that you left your things down here. But they didn’t.” She looked up, and Kate was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “They’re not gonna stay. Why would they?” She sighed, glancing at a photo on the shelf behind her that could only be a young Cairo and Riley. “Cairo was right.”

Kate was in shocked. She’d never expected to see their own peppy captain looking so...broken.

In a flash, Riley’s broken expression was gone, replaced by her usual peppy smile. “You know what? Maybe this is a sign. Eva’s new to the team, and I was gonna ask Reeses to be your sort of guide, because she’s new too, but she knows the team so well, but Kate’s a Junior. It makes more sense if she does it. So how about I go see if my parents hid the key in this...bathroom, aand Kate, you can teach Eva some of our cheers! Good? Okay great!” And, ponytail swinging, she disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Kate turned to Eva awkwardly. “You...don’t have to learn the cheers. I mean, they’re pretty easy. Being the highest ranked flyer in the state and all, I’m sure you’ll pick them up, no problem.”

Eva cocked her head at her. “Was that supposed to be sarcastic?”

Kate felt her face growing hot again. “No. That’s just...how I sorta sound a lot. Sorry.”

Eva smiled. “No, I get it, actually.” She grinned. “It’s kind of cute.”

If Kate were the fainting type, she probably would have fainted then and there.

Instead, she leapt backwards on the couch. “Well...uh...we can learn the cheers, I guess. Only if you want to, though!”

Before Kate could find out if Eva did indeed want to learn the cheers, Riley came back out of the bathroom. When she caught sight of the two, she froze completely in her tracks. While her mouth kept on the same peppy smile, her eyes changed completely. In a split second, they seem to shatter, almost like glass, to reveal something dark and...terrifying, lurking underneath. Almost subconsciously, Kate felt herself backing away, and she saw Eva doing the same.

“Kate...I thought you were going to show Eva the new cheers.”

“We were just getting to that!” Kate sounded disingenuous, even to her own ears. She was just suddenly so nervous.

Riley sighed, leaning on the arm of the sofa. “You know, Kate, it’s really disappointing when members of this team let us down. We work hard, and some of us want to go to Regionals, and we want to be something more than...” she stared Kate right in the eye. Her blue eyes looked more and more broken with every word, the darkness coming closer and closer to the surface. The more she said, the faster she spoke, as though she could barely control what she was saying. “Than the worst team ever.”

Kate felt a nervous laugh escape our lips. “RIley...what are you talking about?”

Riley turned away so that Kate and Eva could now only see her back. “I was just so excited to be the captain. I thought I could turn this team around. But some things...some people, they’re just such big problems that they ruin this team for everyone else. There’s really nothing to be done.”

All of a sudden, Kate felt the pieces snap together in her head. Of course.

“It was you. You killed Chess and Farrah.”

RIley spun around, eyes wide and wild. “But Kate, I had to! Our team was infected! When you have a tumor, you don’t just...sit there, you cut it out, right?” She stared at them. “Right?!”

“Riley!” Kate stared their captain in her eyes. She’d known Riley was fragile, but not like this. Never this. “It’s all right. Eva and I are...here for you. Do you have the key?”

Riley nodded wordlessly.

“Alll....all right, then.” Kate glanced at Eva, who she noticed was subtly sliding her phone about of her pocket. So she needed a confession. “Why don’t you just...let us go? We promise we’ll come right back. Just...give us the key.”

Riley’s eyes filled with tears. “I...I can’t.”

Eva nodded, phone behind her back. “We know it’s hard. We understand, really. But we want to help you.”

Riley’s whole body shook. “No. No. No!” So quickly that Kate barely registered the motion, she pulled a knife from her jacket, pointing it at Kate and Eva, who both backed up instantly. As she did, Kate spotted the key sticking out of Riley’s coat pocket. If she could just get close enough...

“Look, RIley. We’ll do the cheer if you want. All you have to do is ask. You’re right. We’ve been pretty unhelpful. I think we owe it to you to...be better teammates, you know?” Just a little closer...

Riley’s eyes narrowed. Kate wanted to yell at herself for every moment she’d ever been snarky and sarcastic, because Riley was clearly not buying her nice girl act at all.

In a flash, Riley’s eyes moved over to Eva, landing on her phone. “Oh, I see, Eva. This is how it’s going to be.”

There was a blur of motion, and suddenly, Kate found herself in Riley’s grasp, with the captain’s left arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and her right hand pressing the knife against her leg.

The knife cut through the flesh of her right thigh, and all she could feel was pain. Her vision disappeared, replaced by flashes of black and white. She could feel her own blood soaking her leg. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t feel, she couldn’t...

The knife dug in deeper, and it all got a hundred times worse. She felt tears of pain and fear in her eyes. At long last, Riley pulled the knife out of her leg, leaving pooling blood behind. But in another flash, she was pressing the knife against Kate’s throat. Kate could feel her throat about to bleed.

God, was she really going to die like this? In pain, alone in a basement with a girl she’d known for one night and a murderous cheerleading captain? Was she really going to die after her best friend had been killed and she’d been left all alone?

Everyone she’d ever loved had left her behind. And now she was dying, and she’d never get the chance to see them again, and none of them would even remember her.

And then, very faintly, she heard a voice, through the haze of pain and fear.

“Riley, what are you doing?”

“You want that recording, Eva? Fine. But she dies.”

“You can’t do this!” Eva’s voice was growing more desperate by the second. Even in her haze, Kate could tell. “You need a team!”

“You really think I couldn’t replace every single one of them with another diversity scholarship in two seconds?”

Kate felt the floor creak beneath her feet. “Please, Riley. Just...give me the key. I won’t tell. I’ll erase the recording, I promise.” The genuine fear in the flyer’s voice was surprising. “But don’t kill her.”

Riley laughed. Kate felt her arm twitch, and she saw something shiny flying through the air. “You want the key? You can have the key. But if you leave this room, with or without erasing that recording, she doesn’t come with you.” The knife pressed closer into Kate’s neck, and Kate winced in pain. “You know, Kate, it’s been so hard keeping you on this team, cause you’re so good, but you’re so fucking annoying.”

Kate had to bite her tongue to keep herself from screaming.

“Why can’t I erase the recording and leave?”

“Because then you’d just tell everyone. And that would mess everything up, wouldn’t it? The case is closed. There’s no evidence, no fingerprints. I made sure of that!”

“Why would they believe me?”

“They wouldn’t. But they might believe her.”

Kate opened her eyes just in time to see the realization dawning on Eva’s face. “You were never going to let her out of here.”

“Oh, I was. I didn’t expect to tell you everything. I really am sorry about that.”

Eva was barely a foot away now. “Let her go.”

“Erase that recording.”

Eva sighed, glancing at the key and the phone in her hands. She held them out to Riley. “Fine. You win. You get both of these. You can even have me if you want. Just don’t hurt her.”

Riley laughed as she wrapped her right arm completely around Kate’s neck, leaving the girl temporarily unable to breathe, and used her left arm to reach for the phone.

In another flash, Eva dropped her phone on the ground, grabbing Riley’s left wrist. Riley’s right hand plunged the knife closer to Kate’s neck, but Eva’s hand was already there, grabbing her wrist. The two were suddenly locked in a battle of strength as Kate tried desperately to claw Riley’s arm away from her neck.

At last, with one final push, Riley went flying backwards, slamming into her own trophy case with a crash before laying still on the ground. Without Riley there to hold her up, Kate felt herself plummeting to the floor, but she felt arms wrap around her waist, supporting her and catching her before she could hit the cold, hard stone.

She opened her eyes, still gasping for air and crying from the pain. “I thought you were the flyer and I was the base.”

Eva laughed, relief filling her eyes. “I think we’re allowed to make exceptions to that rule.” Kate groaned as she tried to sit up, leaning on Eva’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you just take the key and leave? Why bother staying here with a murderer?” Eva’s eyes widened. “Because I wasn’t going to leave you alone here.”

“You just met me.”

“So what? You don’t leave people alone like that.”

“Yeah,” Kate muttered to herself, “but people have a knack for doing it to me.”

Eva didn’t appear to hear her, but she pulled her in even closer. Kate felt her face growing hot again. “Look, Kate. What just happened was crazy. But I like you. You seem like a really, really good person. And you’re definitely not someone I’d ever leave behind.”

“Even in a locked basement of death?

Eva laughed. “Especially in a locked basement of death.”

***

Eat your hearts out, Kateva stans!

This one was SO much fun! It’s definitely been my favorite mini fic I’ve written so far, though I’m not sure exactly how mini it was by the end.

Anyway, hope you all liked it as much as I liked writing it:)

#we are the tigers #watt #watt fanfic #we are the tigers fanfiction #kate dalton #eva sanchez #riley williams #ask the theater nerd #what would characters do #mini fics #watt spoilers #tw blood #tw pain #tw stabbing #tw graphic violence #tw knives #tw mentions of rape

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reidimagines · 5 years ago

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Extra colors

a/n: wheee thank u anon for requesting this! hope you enjoy it!

summary: when emily comes back from the death, Y/n can’t be anything except happy, because her girl is back. she can come hom again.

It had been a week. Seven days. You never knew time could pass so fast, yet so slow at the same time. It felt as if time wasn’t anythng more than a concept you had escaped. You felt utterly numb, and while it was better than the devastation you’d expected, it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Your home felt too big, without Emily. The fridge too full, without her snacking at two in the morning, the couch needed more pillows.

It was stupid, and you knew that. Emily had been gone for cases longer than seven days. A week. And yet, this felt so different. It was different, because, as much as you hadn’t yet accepted it, she wasn’t coming back. Every day would be a day without Emily. When you thought about it, it was worse than a nightmare. Your nightmares had always been plagued with her getting hurt, but you’d never imagined her…

It had been a week, since you’d buried her. A little more since she had died. You wished you’d lost count, or wished you had the strength to go to her grave. You didn’t have the energy to do anything, didn’t feel the need to do anything. Your friends came with food, they switched shifts, but they all did the same.

They made you food, you ate together, them talking about funny things that happened, until they weren’t even sure if you were with them, mentally. Then, they’d hold your hand, whispered encouraging things, like: “the pain will ease”, “time heals all wounds”, “if you want to take your mind off of things, I’m free”. It was useless, but you’d smile, squeezing their hand back, and said “thank you”, like you were supposed to.

You felt numb, were still waiting for that feeling to change into sadness. You felt like the pain would crash in, you were waiting for the cracked glass to break. Your breaking point was near, and in a way, you hoped it would come. It felt like you weren’t mourning enough, as stupid as that sounded.

You couldn’t sleep, it was always filled with her, which made waking up even worse. You couldn’t eat, not when she couldn’t anymore. You weren’t even hungry. If it weren’t for your friends, you would not eat, drink, or shower. You supposed it was a bit better than crying for days.

But, life goes on, and on the eight day, you went back to work. They gave you simple tasks. You needed to get out, your mom came to clean your place for you. It was routine, but it did take your mind off things, even if it was just for a moment. At the end of the day, you offered a coworker a genuine smile, when she handed you a thick file that needed to be processed before the end of the month. It was more time than she should have given you, so you were grateful. You could spent your sleepless nights going over files, now.

As you walked home, you began to think that maybe that was your life without Emily. Empty. It felt like it would always be like that.

You unlocked the door, the smell of lavander coming towards you. Your mother did use nice smelling products. That’s what you thought, at least. As you dropped your bag and moved further into the house, the smell got stronger.

There were flowers on the table. Your mother thought flowers were a dumb gift, as much as you’d always loved to have them in house. She wouldn’t buy you these. With trembling fingers, you reached for the note, feeling like your heart might beat out of your chest.

It was a simple, handwritten note, with ‘flower subscription Levi’ on the back. As fast as your heart was beating, it suddenly stopped. Emily paid for this, paid them to deliver flowers every two weeks. She must’ve paid for the month. You opened the note, tears springing in your eyes for the first time since the funeral.

“Because you make me the happiest woman in the world, love Emily”

A sob so loud it almost couldn’t be human, left your mouth as your knees threatened to give out under you. You chocked on your own breath, a hand clasped in front of your mouth to keep the sounds in as tears rolled over your cheeks. You couldn’t see anything, it was like everything, the past eight days, came at you all at once.

She was never coming back.

She was gone.

She was under the ground.

She wasn’t with you.

She’d never be with you again.

You clutched the note to your chest, not bothering to get a chair and just let yourself slide on the ground, until you were sitting there, head on your knees, crying your eyes out. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been ten hours. You didn’t know, and you didn’t care. The tears finally stopped enough for you to sniff, move to the bathroom and get dressed for bed. The note was still in your hand. You couldn’t stop the occasional tear from rolling over your cheeks, but you were in one of her sweaters and your pajama bottoms. You entered the bedroom, but stopped in your tracks.

On the bed, was a stack of pictures. Your mom must have found them, thought you might like to look at them. But you knew those pictures. They were all with Emily, had been in a small box in your closet. You’d taken selfies and pictures of her every date, hoping to one day make a picture book. That was never going to happen now. You weren’t even sure if you could look at them. At least, not now.

You backed away slowly, closing the door and moving to the couch instead. Under a blanket, with the note pressed to your chest, you cried yourself to sleep, into the first dreamless night in eight days.

After that, it started to get better. Three weeks later, you looked through the pictures, four weeks later, you hung them up. Week six, you went through her stuff. You couldn’t throw any of it away, not just yet, but you put it in the attic, with the help of JJ, who had ended up on your doorstep.

Week seven, Derek and Spencer asked if you wanted a ride to her grave. You went for the first time since the funeral. A week later, you went by yourself, a small bouquet of daisies with you. She’d brought you daisies on your first date. Desîte the flower subscription, she sometimes still brought back daisies with a kiss. “You deserve them unexpectedly, too.” She’d say, and you’d smile for the rest of the day.

Time went on, and while you missed her everyday, life started to gain some color again. You knew for certain that you’d never see some colors again, though. There were colors that had only been Emily’s, and you’d lost that. But the orange of a sunset came back, the blue of the lake, the green of the grass, and the stars eventually began to sparkle a bit brighter again, too.

You were far from fine, but you were dealing, coping, learning how to live with a wound that would forever be there. You were learning how to live without a part of you.

“Hey, what’s up?” You said, leaning back against the wall of your office building. You wanted to go on a lunch break with a coworker when Derek called. You went outside to take it as he dealed with the last things before he could leave. “Haven’t heard from you in ages, you’re better calling to go to a club or something, I have the weekend off, so if you’re in town-” You rambled, before Derke stopped you.

“Y/n,” He said, and your smile dropped. you recognized that voice. It’s the same one he used when he said what had happened.

“Oh god, is everything okay?” You tucked strands of hair behind your ear that weren’t even loose, pushed yourself away from the wall and began pacing, light panic settling in you.

“Yeah, but… you should come. I can’t really… explain on the phone.”

He seemed at loss of words, and you began fumbling for your keys. Why would he need you, not even a cop, to come to the office? “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Okay,” He said, hanging up. No teasing, no banter, nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Something had to be very wrong, then.

You passed the speed limit a few times, had to stop yourself from going even faster. You were scared, anxious. You didn’t know what was going on, but it couldn’t be much good.

Derek was waiting for you, letting you in.

You rushed into the elevator, unable to stand still, but unable to move at the same time. your heart was racing in your chest, and you pressed your nails in your palm, anything to stop your mind from going from bad to worse. Derek just looked at you, not sure if he should say something. If he was being honest, he was speecheless himself.

The doors, after what felt like an eternity, slid open. No one of the team was in sight, you guessed briefing room, then. You hurried up the stairs, your breath stuck in your throat, your body shaking ever so slightly, although you couldn’t say for sure why.

The blinds were closed, and you shifted on your feet before knocking. Hotch opened the door. “Y/n,” He said, his expression not telling much. “Good. Come in.”

He let you in, and for a moment, you didn’t understand why you had to come. But then, you thought you saw a ghost. You could feel the color drain from your face, a violent shake setting into your limbs. You couldn’t even find the words the describe what you were feeling, it was everything all at once.

“Y/n,” You hadn’t even believed she was real in the first place, having a brain tumor that made you see things seemed like a more logical explanation. But when she spoke, you knew it was her. You’d lost touch of her voice as time had passed, although you’d never forgotten how it made you feel. But now, it was too much. She spoke, and she said your name in her tone. She moved, it was only a step, but she moved. And she was alive. Alive. You took a step, slowly, tasting if your legs could still carry you. Then, you realized you didn’t care. You would crawl, would drag yourself forwards with you teeth, if you had to. You bolted, it was only a few steps, but you’d never moved that quick in your life.

Her arms opened right in time for you to stumble into. Your arms around her neck as you pulled her closer. She was here. You hadn’t felt the tears until you couldn’t see anymore. You buried your face in her neck. She smelt the same. You’d forgotten what she smelt like; her shampoo was still branded in your memory, but it didn’t smell the same in the bottle.

You wished you could say something, anything at all, but you’d swallowed all your words, and none wanted to come out. You stayed like that for a long while. The team left the room, giving you some privacy.

Eventually, you found words. Or, only one, at least. “Emily,” You whispered, your voice breaking. “You’re-” How were you supposed to finish that?

“I’m alive,” She said softly. You pulled back a bit, bringing your hand to her chest. She was alive, her heart was beating fast and steady, and your breath hitched. Tears rolled over your cheeks, and you were sure you’d drown in them.

“But, how?” You managed to get out, not ready to let go yet.

“I- it was too dangerous to stay.” That didn’t answer anything, but your mind wasn’t ready to ask those questions.

“You’re back?” You whispered, leaning your forehead against hers, giving her time to pull away. Seven months was a long time, a lot could have happened. But she didn’t pull away, she threaded her fingers through your hair, it felt familiar.

“I am,” She said, letting a tear slip. “I’m not leaving you again, I’m so sorry.”

You sniffed, realizing you felt relieve, happiness. “Can I kiss you?”

She looked at you, glancing for only a moment, but it was so familiar and new at the same time you wanted to scream. Then, she connected your lips. It tasted like tears, your lipbalm, and the lipstick Emily couldn’t be spotted without. Your hands moved to her face, pulling her even closer. You couldn’t imagine letting her go, not anytime soon.

“I’ve missed you, I’ve mourned you,” You began, not knowing how to finish as you closed your eyes. Emily wiped at your tears, and her hands were warm, they were warm, and pulsing with blood, and were alive.

“I’m sorry.” She seemed at loss of words, too. It was okay, you could talk later. She was alive, and she was back.

“I’m just glad you’re back.” You chocked out, sniffing before smiling softly.

She smiled, too. Your heart and stomach made backflips, and it was as of you were falling in love all over again. “I’m back home.” She said, looking you in the eye, and it was hard to miss what she meant.

You kissed her again, not able to put all the emotions in it. “I-” You tried, but failed. It was too much; you were feeling too much, and too little at the same time. The only thing you were aware of, was that your chest felt too small for your heart.

“We can talk later,” She muttered. “When we’re… recovered.”

You chuckled, your grip not faltering. “Give me a year, then.”

She closed her eyes with a smile leaning into your touch. You could sense the million sorry’s she wanted to say, but couldn’t yet. You wanted to say that it wasn’t okay, but you couldn’t. She was back, and that was all that mattered.

“I love you.” You said. Your voice surprisingly strong. “I can’t wait to give you flowers instead of…”

“We’ll talk this out, okay?” She took a step back, and instantly, you could think a bit more clear. “I love you too, just… I haven’t stopped loving you.”

“Are you coming home?” You whispered, not sure if you wanted to know the answer. “I still have your stuff. Most is stored, but-”

She looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected you to. “You- you want me to?”

“Yeah,” You looked at her in disbelief. “You’re alive, I missed you in the house. Missed you in the kitchen, missed you when I slept-” As your emotions were settling, you began to realize you maybe weren’t so okay. But how could you be mad when she was right in front of you? When she was breathing and well?

“I’m-”

“Don’t,” You closed your eyes, fighting the tears. “I love you. Come home, please.”

She hesitated, before she nodded. “Okay, I’ll come home.” Home sounded foreign on her tongue, and you were curious about all the what’s, why’s, how’s… but now wasn’t the time. You didn’t know when would be the time, but you were so relieved, happy, shaken, by her being back. It felt as a gift, as if someone wanted you to see all color again, as if someone wanted you to have the life you pictured you’d have. And now, maybe you could.

You smiled at her, a smile you should have given her earlier; love, admiration, relief, sadness… everything was in your smile, but it only told Emily how much you cared, even after all this time, even after what she put you through.

She was thankful; thankful for you, for waiting, in a way. She was thankful, that she could come back home. You might see it as a house, but to her, being in a room with you was home, although your house was better than the briefing room.

It wasn’t okay yet, but when she smiled back, you knew it would be. Everything would be okay again. You’d follow her to the end of the world, would never let her go again. She was okay, and that meant you were okay. There were things to talk about, but they had to wait. You were just glad to have her back; to have that extra pint of color back, that extra dose of smiles, and that extra dose of love.

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss x reader #q

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a9saga · 4 years ago

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when my maternal grandfather died six months ago i made a long rambling about how everything in my life since ninth grade just went full circle and i meant it. i ended up being okay, and i knew i would, but that was all very intensely crashing over me at once.

my grandmother died this morning. other side, my dad’s mother. it was okay, she was safe, she was being taken care of and she was with her children and her husband. i’d only heard she went into hospice yesterday, she couldn’t have been in there for more than a day.

if you know me well enough that i’ve ever talked to you about my family, you might remember i really love my sweet and beautiful little irish grandmother. i do. or even if you follow my blog, she’s made several mentions in my own posts over the years. she’s my biggest role model. i could go on for days. simply put, every trait of mine that i most like about myself is something i’ve had in common with her. and she loved me for the same things i loved in her, i think.

that last sentence is the only reflection i’ve realized upon finally losing her. i only realized that one when my dad pointed it out last night. i was mumbling on my whole spiel about how much i love my grandmother i knew i would be losing within the next day, you know the one i largely skipped in this post because i would have gone on for too long. my dad said that i also brought her so much joy, that she also thought that i was sweet, and beautiful, and it lit her up to see me, etc etc etc.

i’d not thought of that as much. the last many times i saw her, her memory was so far gone she didn’t know who i was or who my mother was. she would generally recognize my dad and she would ask him if he was married and if he had kids. that’d happen every few minutes whenever we’d see her, that she would be going over the list of basic questions. she wanted to enjoy everyone’s presence, and to some extent she did, but it was so hard for her to genuinely partake.

connie was in there somewhere but she was a shell of herself. over the past year, especially in the past four months, it was apparent she was getting exponentially closer to the end.

i always knew she’d be the hardest to lose. i’ve been afraid of it forever. and i think she will be. i have two grandparents left but i just. i just know this one. and it feels only reinforced by my feeling that her death doesn’t change anything.

i have realized nothing new from this. there’s no circle encompassing this moment in my life. at this time i think more constantly what i have always thought of her. i am just devastated to be without her. in place of piecing together what she meant to me, since i was already well aware of that all my life, i am thinking more of how she was years ago. i am not realizing. i am remembering. what i remember is what i’ve thought much less about for a while, because i’ve only been so worried about her now for at least 4 years. at least. and that’s only been my major concerns.

but if there was someone who deserved this soon, it was her. in some respects, for a while i’d felt like i lost her already, such as the fact that she didn’t constantly remember and understand anyone but her husband. she was so weak recently. she just needed to rest.

if you were wondering, she would have turned 91 if she made it to the end of this month. i will be okay, again. i keep tearing up every few minutes thinking about her. it doesn’t last long but it recurs a lot. i don’t feel the disbelief i did with my grandfather’s death. i simply feel awful.

with my grandfather, even in recent months there have been tears, bad dreams, and recently at work an old man came in who looked and moved and talked very much like my grandfather had since his first battle with his brain tumor. those make me sad but much of the time now i just remember that he’s actually gone, not out of sight, out of mind. i’ve made my peace, it’s just more like i largely don’t buy it. he’s not dead, i just haven’t seen him in a while. that’s how it feels and i just remind myself that it’s not true.

well i don’t know that i will think of connie like that in six months. because frank, her husband of 68 years, is going to be alone and no one can bear the thought of how scary that is. he doesn’t know life like this. so if you’re the praying type, please utter his name for me. he’s a very strong man, but he’s very old.

i wanted to say one last thing. remember when i said seventeen was once again comforting me when my grandfather died? well i’ve been listening to cnblue today. i don’t know why. i will not sit here and tell you my cnblue story (although one day i mean to bc oh boy) but i was a fan of them years before i got into kpop, when i was 13. it was the summer before eighth grade. i actually know like, none of their work that they put out after i was 13. i was mostly into their japanese stuff, their korean singles back then were so much more poppy and colorful and i liked them but not as much. i still kind of feel that way. you know what song of theirs i was kinda iffy about liking as much as i did? love girl. oh my god. for the record they dropped that song and album on my 12th birthday, which inherently cursed them (nothing good ever happened while i was 12). i was too not-like-other-girls to deal with the one video of theirs that went too far in making it clear that the boys in this band were cute (ugh). but now i’m listening to that song a lot in particular because it makes me feel very light and pink and warm and homey and to put it simply it fills me with a comfort that i think i need after losing my feminine hero. that doesn’t make any sense but i feel it. i’ve not actually played anything since i started typing this so i’m gonna go back to that now.

ps: any friends or mutuals, if we talk lots or little or we haven’t in a while, are welcome to send me literally whatever. if it’s related to this, unrelated, or whatever, if you are thinking of reaching out to say something i am going to appreciate anything. you can send kind words or a meme or cute animals or a song rec. i will say that i’m going to be quiet for the time being so i may not reply back very quickly. i’m not ignoring you i’m just taking space. i may be like this for a little bit. but if you actually read all of this, thank you. thank you so much.

#catharsis #shut up kaily

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generaldisdainn · 4 years ago

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Four of a Kind

AO3 link

Rating: MA

Summary: After accepting a job as the head of marketing for a local animal shelter, Anna finds herself in a new city in need of a place to live. Luckily, 3 guys know just the place.

Previous chapter

Chapter 8

I’m sorry I kind of went off on you. It made me feel really bad and I bet it made you feel bad too so I wanted to apologize. There’s history that I don’t know and I shouldn’t judge you when I don’t know all the facts. If you don’t want to talk to me that’s fine, but I’m not going to pretend like everything’s okay between us. Against my better judgment, I care about you, and I want you to be happy. So if you want to talk, I’m all ears.

Kristoff clutched the letter that had slid through the space beneath his bedroom door. He didn’t expect Anna to be willing to talk to him so soon. For that matter, he didn’t expect to want to talk to her so soon. Sven’s pep talk as well as an hour alone in his room gave him a genuine desire to shed his cold demeanor. He found he didn’t care much for the person he became since his relationship with Samantha had ended.

Before he had a chance to stop himself, Kristoff was up on his feet, walking across the apartment and knocking on Anna’s door. He heard a loud sniff from the other side and then footsteps leading up to the door. He heard the lock disengage and then he saw her, eyes red and swollen, clutching a snowman plushie.

God, I fucked up, he thought.

“I thought you didn’t like being in here,” Anna said, motioning to her room.

“Well, I decided, fuck that,” Kristoff responded. “Can I come in? I need to tell you something.”

* * *

Kristoff pulled into a parking spot in the lot just outside his apartment complex. He pulled his phone out from his pocket and tapped the “Messages” icon. Right at the very top of the list of conversations was one called “Sammy Sammy Bo-bammy,” a title his girlfriend, Samantha, came up with and one he thought was too adorable not to use. He tapped on the conversation and typed “guess who’s home early <3 come over?”

He noticed she had become more distant and distracted whenever they were together recently. Kristoff guessed that it was because of how often he was working; he wanted to work as many hours as he could so he could afford to take her to the Cayman Islands, a vacation the two of them had talked about taking since they started dating. After noticing her shift in behavior, he decided that it was more important to spend quality time with her.

As he strolled leisurely across the parking lot, he spotted something familiar out of the corner of his eye. It was a car, just like the dozens of others in the lot, but it was the same color as Samantha’s. And the same make, Kristoff noticed. And model. And that license plate number was strangely similar, too. No, it was the exact same number.

What’s she doing here in the middle of the afternoon? Kristoff thought. He knew she didn’t like his roommates, so she couldn’t be checking in with them. Although he remembered, she had been talking to Brant a lot more often whenever she was over. Brant was his least favorite of his three other roommates, but even so, he was happy she had another reason to be at his place.

He stepped into the elevator, pushed the button for the 4th floor, and leaned back against the wall. A smile spread across his face. This was the first step toward improving his relationship. Tonight, he and Samantha would finally finish that show he could never remember the name of (all he could think of was “Parks and Offices”), then they’d just chill out together, maybe go up to the roof and watch the stars, and if he really played his cards right, possibly even make love.

Kristoff stepped out through the open doors of the elevator with a confident stride. He had faith in himself and his ability to rescue his relationship. As he walked down the hall, he pulled out his phone again to check for any replies from Samantha. Nothing.

No big deal, he thought. Her phone’s probably dead.

But she usually had a charger with her, and Kristoff’s phone was the same as hers, so he knew there was a charger handy in his apartment.

No. Kristoff shook the idea from his mind. She wouldn’t ignore me. Not on purpose, anyway.

He turned the door handle and opened the door slowly, eager to see the surprise and delight on Samantha’s face when she found out he was home hours before he said he would be. But he didn’t see her. He didn’t see anyone, for that matter; the entire common area of the apartment was empty. Maybe he misremembered her license plate number? Maybe she wasn’t here at all?

Brant was definitely here, though. He heard a commotion and some faint music from inside his room on the other end of the apartment. Kristoff couldn’t care less what he was doing, just as long as he took out the trash at some point.

Kristoff knocked on the door to his room. “Sammy? You in here?” No response. He opened the door to a dark, empty room. Now he was getting confused. Was there someone else in this apartment complex she was here to see? He made his way over to Brant’s room to ask him if he’d seen her. A twinge of worry forced his hand through his hair. He knocked on the door to announce his entry, then turned the doorknob.

“Hey Brant, do you know if-”

There was no need to ask him anymore.

There she was, stark naked, her mouth agape and her face drained of color. And there was Brant, just as naked, haphazardly covering himself with the sheets on his bed.

For a fraction of a second, Kristoff wanted to be dead. His heart plummeted. His hands went clammy. He felt numb.

Samantha grabbed a towel on the floor and wrapped herself in it. The silence was unbearable, but no one had anything to say. In an instant, all Kristoff’s hopes, his plans, his life...it was all gone. Ripped from his mind, an empty void where they once were.

Samantha’s mouth shuddered like she was going to speak. “Kristoff...it’s..it’s not-”

“Well, I was right about one thing,” Kristoff said. “You were surprised that I’m home early.”

Samantha let out a heavy breath as a look of pity darkened her face. “You have to understand-”

“You’re cheating…” Kristoff said, “...with him? With him? ” He turned to look at Brant, who seemed to be trying to obscure himself with his sheets. “With you?! ”

“No, Kristoff, don’t get mad at him,” Samantha pleaded.

“I’ll get mad at whoever the fuck I want.”

“Uh, I think I’m gonna go,” Brant muttered.

“No, no, no. You’re staying here and packing your shit. You’re gonna be gone by tomorrow.”

“Kristoff, no,” Samantha said. “He doesn’t deserve to pay for my-”

“Shut up,” Kristoff barked. “Brant. Your shit. Now.”

“Wait, hold on, Kristoff,” Brant said. He stood up, wrapping himself in the towel. “I’m...I can be better, I’ll...when she’s over I’ll stay in my room, okay? Just don’t…” He took tentative steps toward him. He was looking Kristoff in the face, a politeness there that Kristoff felt unable to reciprocate.

“Get the fuck away from me.”

“Come on, man. Kristoff, I’m your friend.”

Before he could stop himself, Kristoff’s right fist collided with Brant’s face hard enough to shatter a car window. There was a substantial thud of the hand making contact, an unsettling crack of Brant’s nose breaking, and a wet spatter of blood on the wall and floor. Samantha shrieked, terrified, as Brant crumpled on the floor, clutching his face and groaning in pain. Samantha began to cry.

“Kristoff, why?! Why did you do that?! Why did you...you…” Her words were frantic and shaky.

“The next time I leave my room, you both are going to be gone.” Without another word, Kristoff turned around and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

“That was the last time you ever saw them?” Anna asked.

“Yeah, thank God. I don’t know what I’d do if I saw either of them again, in any setting.”

“Wow. That’s good, I guess.” Anna nervously eyed the off-white marks on the wall of her room. “So...underneath that paint is…”

“Is Brant’s blood, yes,” Kristoff finished her sentence.

“Is Brant’s--yeah,” Anna said. Her stomach turned a little. “Did you...mean to punch him that hard?”

“I don’t know, I’d never punched anyone before,” Kristoff said. “I’d never...y’know...felt the need to.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Anna extended her legs and laid her plushie on the bed beside her. She turned to look at Kristoff who was sitting in her desk chair which was turned around to face her bed. “And, I mean, I can’t really blame you. If I could hit my ex that hard, I would.”

“What happened with your ex?”

“Well, it wasn’t as dramatic, but he was a Brant-level asshole, too. I just didn’t realize it until after he dumped me.”

“Wait... he dumped you ?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, it’s just…” Kristoff had had enough of being standoffish with Anna. “...why would anyone want to leave you?”

Anna could fight the smile she wanted to show, but she could do nothing to hide the blood rushing to her cheeks. “Well…”

“C’mon, it must be a good story,” Kristoff said, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. “You don’t have to go into it, but--”

“No it’s fine, I’ll, uh...I’ll try to keep it short.” Anna sucked in air and held the breath. She hesitated to speak, not sure how Kristoff would react, but she knew it was important for her to be as candid as he was.

“About a year ago, I went to get an X-ray done because I had chronic pain in my abdomen. Turns out, it, uh...it was a tumor.” Anna looked up at Kristoff when she said this. His eyebrows were knitted and his eyes darkened.

“Are you okay now?” Kristoff asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Now hush, I barely started my story,” Anna said with a smile. “Yeah, it was a tumor in my pancreas, a benign one, but still painful and dangerous. Anyway, I go to the surgery—his name’s Hans, my ex I mean, by the way—and the doctor’s like ‘Hey, you might die but you probably won’t,’ and I was like ‘wow, okay, thanks for the panic attack right before this life-saving surgery.’”

“Yeah, that guy really needs to work on his bedside manner.”

“Right? Anyway, the surgery happened and they were able to get the tumor completely removed. And when I woke up, a bunch of friends and family were there to greet me. My sister Elsa and her fianceé Honey were there, my friend Pansy and her boyfriend Gene were there too, a few of my coworkers from my old job also, and they brought me flowers and cards and stuff. It was really sweet, but guess who the one person who wasn’t there was.”

“Oh man, really?”

“Yup- it was Hans. The jerk wouldn’t even make sure I was alive.”

“Wow.”

“Me being a naïve moron, I just assumed he was busy or something.”

“Someone else in that room was probably busy too!”

“Yeah, Elsa actually had to catch a flight. A flight! And Hans couldn’t even see me!”

“I can punch him if you want.”

“Okay, but that’s not even the worst part! The next day, after I’d been recovering for a while, I got a text from him basically saying ‘I can’t be with you if you might die. Also, I’ve been seeing someone, so it’s over.’”

“Oh my god, what an asshole!”

“Yeah, I already don’t have my own parents’ love, why did his have to be so fragile too?”

“Wait, you—what?”

“Oh my god, did I never tell you? When my sister Elsa came out to them, they were furious. I sided with Elsa, so they disowned us both.”

Kristoff was stunned. His mouth fell open. “...Jesus...I’m so sorry, I—”

“No need to apologize,” Anna said. “It sucks, but we’re both better off without them. Just like the two of us…” She alternated pointing to herself and Kristoff. “...are better off without our exes.”

“Yeah, I just…” Kristoff rubbed his face. “...I don’t know, sometimes I think I could’ve been better earlier, when—”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Anna interrupted. “I’m not letting you blame yourself for the end of that relationship. She and Brant were the problem, not you. You weren’t doing anything wrong. She thought she could get away with having your love and Brant’s sex at the same time, and you showed her she couldn’t.”

“I mean...yeah, I guess,” Kristoff conceded. “I just...I feel bad for having hit him so hard, that’s another thing. It’s why I never wanted to come in here, because that paint’s a reminder of...well, everything that happened here, but specifically the punch, the blood, the…” Kristoff took a deep breath before sighing out the last word, “...scream.”

Anna couldn’t deny that it unsettled her, too. She thought the punch was justified, but she was not a violent person; even violence in movies made her uncomfortable.

But she could see in Kristoff’s eyes that he didn’t want to do something like that ever again. She knew he didn’t regret the action; he regretted the pain.

“Kristoff…” Anna began to say.

“Anna, I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole. I’m really, truly sorry. I was just—”

“You were protecting yourself, I get it,” Anna interrupted. “Believe me, I do. I just…” She sighed deeply. “...I just wish you hadn’t pushed me away in the process.”

“Yeah, I just hope you can forgive me for that. And I shouldn't have said all those things to you out there. I'm so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I accept your apology and I forgive you,” Anna said with a matter-of-fact cadence. “And, y’know, if you want to...pretend that last night never happened, then it never happened. If you want to be just friends, then—”

“Yeah, that’s the tricky thing,” Kristoff butted in. “I, uh...I lied, earlier.”

Anna’s brow furrowed. “...About what?”

“Well…” Kristoff paused, as though he was holding back the words he knew he wanted to say. “...I think sex means a lot.” When Anna’s facial expression didn’t change, he continued. “...Because I like you. Like, a lot.”

Anna’s heart and mind entered a brutal tug-of-war at Kristoff’s admittance. She thought and felt so many different thoughts and feelings all at the same time, all of which manifested in stunned silence.

Anna blinked. “You...really?”

“Um…” Kristoff wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting from Anna, but it certainly wasn’t what he was faced with at this moment. “...yeah. And, well, that’s why I didn’t want to get close to you, because the last time I let that happen it ended up fucking me over.”

“Yeah…” Anna was still trying to reconcile her own feelings; there was a small part of her that felt hesitant, but there was a much larger part that kept saying he likes me over and over.

“But, I mean, we slept together last night, which was great by the way, so either I didn’t learn anything from last time or I just like you too much.”

“Well, I don’t see anything wrong with that second option.” Her thoughts were settling somewhat, landing on the idea that his confession made her happy more than anything else. She flashed him an easy smile that he returned for a moment.

“Yes, definitely, but...I don’t know, I just...I don’t want to have to punch anyone again, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Anna ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I know what it’s like to be cheated on too.”

Kristoff smiled. He felt for her, but there was something comforting about knowing Anna had had similar experiences. “Listen, Anna...as much as I like you, and I think you’re beautiful and funny and sexy and...well, you get the idea. I just can’t get into another relationship right now.”

“Okay,” Anna responded. “And thank you, that’s very flattering. Like I said, if you can’t be anything more than friends with me right now, that’s totally fine. I won’t be upset. I’m just glad you finally came clean to me.”

“Yeah, I am too, actually,” Kristoff agreed. “I feel like, well...I feel like I don’t need to pretend I don’t like you anymore.”

“Yeah, please don’t do that,” Anna said, only half-joking. “So, we’re friends?”

Kristoff smiled. “That sounds good to me.”

“Alright.” Anna returned the smile. She loved seeing Kristoff happy. She hoped she would see his smile a lot more often in the near future, now that he was ditching his aloof attitude.

“Hey, can I...can I give you a hug? A friend hug?” Anna asked, gingerly extending her arms.

Kristoff took a breath. Start being nice right now, he said to himself. “Sure,” he mumbled. They both stood and wrapped their arms around each other. It was a comforting, safe embrace, one that felt like a resolution to each of their struggles, before and after they met each other. They understood each other better than they knew. They pulled apart and sighed simultaneously. There was no tension or awkwardness, and, Anna noticed, Kristoff seemed to be more at ease in her room.

“So,” Anna said, “I actually have to do some stuff for work that I’ve been putting off.”

“Oh, okay, that’s—yeah, I’ll leave,” Kristoff responded.

“Oh no no, I didn’t mean I want you to leave.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Like I don’t want you to leave, I mean, I like having you around and everything.”

“No, really, it’s—”

“I just have stuff to do and—”

“Anna, it’s fine ,” Kristoff said with a chuckle. “I’m not offended.”

“Okay,” Anna said, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll see you.”

“See ya,” Kristoff said, stepping toward the door.

Anna suddenly realized she still felt guilty for some reason. She couldn’t tell exactly why, but her conscience still poked at her back. Was she forgetting something?

“Kristoff?” Anna called out, hoping she would remember in the time it took for him to turn around.

“Hmm?” he responded, half-turning back to look at her. His bright eyes and soft smile instantly reminded her.

I’m never yelling at that adorable face ever again.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I know I said it in my note but I wanted to apologize to you in person too.”

Kristoff laughed. “It’s fine. I would've yelled at me too. And I really should be thanking you—you and Sven both—for pulling my head out of my ass.”

Anna snorted. “Hah! Yeah,” she conceded. Kristoff stepped past the door and shut it behind him.

Anna took a deep breath and recounted all the revelations from that conversation. Kristoff had been cheated on. Another person’s blood was on the wall in her room. Kristoff had feelings for her. He had tried to push her away because of how strong his feelings towards her were. She smiled at that thought. He really was the big softie Sven and Ryder kept saying he is. She already liked Kristoff a lot, but she expected that with all of that out in the open now, he’d become significantly more likable in the near future.

24 notes · View notes

asbcblog · 4 years ago

Text

TOP SONGS OF 2020 WRITE UP!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6WDeuRMOV8neAhU2zd193d?si=lZ9gDIp0TsCCEOeCS7_QGw

1. I remember everything - John Prine

I was going to write an incredibly earnest and long review of this song that outlined just how much John Prine meant to me. I can’t really do it and I think this song probably says enough alone. With only a few chords he always manages to express all the little things that make love what it is, all different kinds of love. Long lasting, short moments, love with places, sounds, going places and staying home, endless family ties, and the often fragile but in the end tenable love between all human beings in the face of catastrophe. The pandemic stole a lot of things from a lot of people this year, including John Prine, but he will remain one of the greatest songwriters of all time and his songs will live on forever.

2. Dream Palette - Yves Tumor

I can’t drive but let’s pretend I’m driving, I’m in LA and it’s night time or something, my elbow’s out the window, don’t know why I’m wearing sunglasses, this song comes on the radio, I’m the coolest person alive.

3. Boylife in EU- Yung Lean

Not to repeat my review of Garden but when the chorus comes I feel like I’m on top of a really big hill and its pouring it down with rain and im screaming but this time its because of a no-deal Brexit.

4. Garden- Joseph Futak

My review was already used as part of Joe’s promo campaign and it said: “feel like im on top of a really big hill and its pouring it down with rain and I’m screaming when the drums come in x x”

5. Circle the Drain- Soccer Mommy

I like this song because I too, am often alone in my room, and I have also become obsessed with subtle breakbeats to an extent where people around me have become very bored of the subject.

6. The Brothers William Said- The Innocence Mission

I listened to this song over and over when I was travelling round London in January just after my birthday, it felt like I’d been listening to it for years, like it was in a movie I’d forgotten. It felt at the time like I was saying a lot of goodbyes, recognising that things weren’t really like they used to be.

7. On the Floor- Perfume Genius

Say it with me ladies: I CROSS OUT HIS NAME ON THE PAGE!!!!

8. Shameika- Fiona Apple

She may not believe it but I bet Fiona Apple looked tough with a riding crop.

9. Song for Our Daughter- Laura Marling

Everything about this is fantastic, mellow and bright at the same time. Every part is brought forward individually and no part of this song gets left behind. A stunning vocal from Laura Marling and purposeful lyrics set to a cinematically emotive instrumental. Pure magic as always.

10. Building site outside- Piglet

Not going to lie, I was in a very vulnerable emotional state when I listened to this song for the first time, but I think that makes it no less powerful and just, sad. The lyric ‘she smiled at me so much last time’ is just so simple and devastating that you forget this would’ve been on every indie film soundtrack from 2000-2008 if Piglet was an industry plant.

11. I wonder- Shamir

One word: EPIC

12. Crimson Tide- Destroyer

Listened to this every time I came on my period this year.

13. In the Dining Room - Joe Pera talks with you

Adam showed me Joe Pera when I really felt incredibly sad at the very beginning of this year. It’s a show that’s made me feel good, no matter the circumstances. This moment in the show made me smile, and I love hearing Gene come in a bit too early.

14. Stupid Love- Lady Gaga

Shakin my little booty in the kitchen to this x

15. Might bang, might not- Little Simz

Livid we didn’t all get to go to End of the Road and see all the hot dad’s loving Little Simz.

16. Fire- Waxahatchee

A truly insane vocal. I listened to this song on my way to work almost every day from September to December and fantasised singing back up at some kind of outdoor gig in the summer and it made everything significantly less bleak.

17. Hannah Sun- Lomelda

This song is too nice and genuine for me to say anything other than, “really lovely song :)”.

18. Scroll of Sorrow- Machine Girl, guayaba

Listened to this a lot this year while sitting on my kitchen floor staring into an empty oven, wondering if I was ever going to go to a party again.

19. Build a nest- Jeff and Ruby Parker

Have put this on in the flat because the guitar solo reminds me of everything my dad listens to at home. A really great piece of music that kicks off a really exciting album.

20. Kiss me thru the phone- That Kid

Ned said yesterday that he thought it was funny how much the original of this song is so foundational to hyper pop and I agree. Also I’ve started saying ‘Bitch’ like That Kid does every time I stub my toe.

21. Cuckoo- Sam Amidon

I am punting down a creek, looking in the branches that hang over the water for the bird that shall lead me to my next clue.

22. Places/ Plans- Skullcrusher

Used this song to comfort myself in moments where I also just don’t understand why I’m not famous.

23. Sweetjoy- Jam City

Finally….. HAIM for dudes.

24. Clean Living- Slow Weather

I saw someone listening to this on the side of my Spotify so I decided to give it a go and it was a fantastic decision. It’s mental that half of this song is an outro.

25. Summer All Over- Blake Mills

Along with the music video visuals and the dampened piano tone, this wins the competition for least summer-y song with the actual word summer in the title.

26. Ready Cheeky Pretty- CHAI

All of my joy this year has been brought to me by CHAI. I have nothing negative to say about CHAI. If you have anything negative to say about CHAI you’re gonna have to go through me.

27. Diaphanous- Land of Talk

This band was recommended to me by a guy I was trying to flirt with at rough trade east but everything closed before I could impress him by saying ‘I think they’re really cool’.

28. Anything - Adrianne Lenker

Anyone who has ever attempted to write a song with me knows how much I simply love rhyming. Seriously though, every thing rhymes, brilliant stuff. (It’s also such a brilliantly full and constant song that still manages to move and remain exciting from start to finish. I imagine this is partially due to Adrianne Lenker’s almost nursery rhyme- esque structure and also due to her beautifully colloquial approach to family dynamics.)

29. Blow- Dj Gigola, Kev Koko

This song makes me wish I was Jason Bourne- just wanna jump really far while something explodes behind me.

30. Money Can’t Buy- Yaeji, Nappy Nina

‘Well I’ll buy some Yaeji tickets, they’re for NOVEMBER, there’s NO WAY they’re gonna get cancelled’.

31. Only the Truth- Johanna Warren

When I first listened to this song I felt like I was floating in the ocean looking up at the stars as the drums came in on ‘what more can I do’. An incredibly beautiful and careful song.

32. Gasoline- Haim

2020 could probably be summarised with the phrase ‘WHY AM I NO LONGER IN CALIFORNIA? WHY DID I LEAVE CALIFORNIA?’ And this song is the 3 minutes 13 seconds seconds of escapism I needed to not topple into a full spiral.

33. Mapuu - Ic3peak

No one can convince me that Ic3peak are real people. They are a collective made up of child ghosts.

34. Don’t Worry- Bladee

Whenever I have an anxiety attack in the night I wake up and see Bladee’s ghost of the future over my bed, he says ‘Don’t worry’ and mumbles for a bit as I fall back into a peaceful sleep.

35. The biggest tits in history- The magnetic fields

The most relatable magnetic fields song imo.

36. Sand Castle- nijuu

Yujin is a genius and my answer is yes, I do want to just walk for a while.

37. Curl Up- Darren Hayman

Ned reminded me how much I used to love Darren Hayman, and both of them have been a pretty big part of my year.

38. When Will Death Come- Sarah Mary Chadwick

‘Wow, mental voice’ - Ned, while doing the washing up.

39. Dear Dad - Sylvie Wiley

‘But I didn’t cry, you’d be proud’ Sylvie, I’m weeping forever.

40. 34+35- Ariana Grande

Hehehehehehehehehe

41. Garden Song- Phoebe Bridgers

Phoebe Bridgers is a pretty unparalleled lyricist and this song feels like a disconnected series of thoughts that somehow all make sense together and come to create something that doesn’t build, but all just kind of sits? What I’m trying to say is that I don’t really know what she’s talking about but like, I get it.

42. Ringtone (remix) - 100 gecs, Charli xcx, Kero Kero Bonito, Rico Nasty,

I love the way it sounds like everyone got just one take and had to improvise all the lyrics but it still bangs.

43. Changer- Andy Shauf

Thank you lord for another album about a smaller than average man overthinking all of his social interactions with lots of lovely clarinet parts.

44. What’s your pleasure - Jessie Ware

My pleasure jessie? Probably just sitting by the fire with a tough crossword and a glass of merlot x

45. Slime- Shygirl

Shygirl’s series of singles this year made me even more livid that I had to take out my eyebrow piercing for my new job this year.

46. Sears Tower- Salem

Perfect halloween release.

47. Title track- happyness

Ned turned to me and said: ‘so is their new thing that they sound like Elliot Smith’ and I said: ‘and that’s a bad thing?’

48. Cross-sound ferry (walk on ticket) - Hamilton Leithauser

Have found unbelievable joy in chopping veg and shouting GREEEEEEEN PORT, NEEEEEEWWWW YOOORK alone in my kitchen.

49. Lowswimmer- Hailaker

I’ve loved hearing Jemima’s voice when I haven’t got to see her much this year. I normally take the piss out of the Hambledon line but I haven’t seen that this year really either. I guess we find sentimentality in strange places.

50. XS - Rina Sawayama

This song made me feel very decadent on those days where I didn’t wash.

51. Emily- Clem Snide

Let’s be more kind and brave in the face of it all.

52. Building a fire- Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy

P.O.V you’re doing bushcraft in the garden with your husband Bonnie Prince Billy and he’s here to protect you.

53. Asexual Wellbeing- Okay Kaya

This song absolutely bangs but I am truly bewildered by the way they singled out the line ‘if they could put a pulse into a spinach leaf, can they turn the two of us into a tree?’ in the production as if that was a true piece of genius. As I say great tune tho.

54. Anthems- Charli xcx

The soundtrack to couch to 5k

55. Never Better- Kitty Fitz

A SE London queen bringing us huge pop tunes in 2020. So so excited to see what 2021 brings us from Kitty, she’s gonna be a real force!

56. Deep in Love- Bonny Light Horsemen

This is such a delightful song which (mainly due to the time I actually got around to listening to the whole record) for me really rang in the spring. A beautifully recorded testament to the feeling of love getting stronger meaning you have a lot more to lose.

57. Malibu- Kim Petras

My song of the summer, made me feel like I was at the beach when really I was in Lewisham.

58. Like I’m Winning it- Girlpool

I’m so delighted that the turn girlpool have made this year is towards dramatic goth music with breakbeats. Their voices both sound amazing and they look simply incredible.

59. Azad- Frazey Ford

I have no idea what she’s saying as always but I love it.

60. Helio- Charlotte Dos Santos

I’m literally so excited for what Charlotte Dos Santos is gonna put out next. The production is fantastic and her aesthetics are flawless.

61. Lost in the Country- Trace Mountains

‘I checked my email twice as I cried’. Safe to say we’ve all been there this year amirite girlies x

62. Unfold You- Rostam

I hated this at first, I thought, what’s this lo-fi beats to study to shit, but it’s now my classic ‘I’m just gonna pop to the shops, anyone want anything? x’ song. Huge.

63. Oh Yeah- A.G cook

One of 2020s realisations is that me and A.G Cook kind of look like we could be cousins.

64. Can’t cool me down- Car Seat Headrest

I would like to personally thank will Toledo for giving me a tune that got me off my ass when I was too warm to do exercise this summer.

65. Take back the radio- Katy J Paerson

In love with Katy J Pearson’s voice and the way this song builds. Just pretty flawless and feel good in my opinion. I think she’s such an exciting new artist who’s gonna be around for a very very long time.

66. Good Woman- The Staves

‘I’m a good woman’… speak for yourselves.

67. A Little Love- Jack Francis

Feel like I’ve been singing this song for about 5 years! It’s amazing and I’m so excited about what Jack’s going to bring out in 2021, he’s a genius and also the nicest man on the planet.

68. Lullaby No.4 - Snailbeach

This song makes me feel like I’m being hypnotised on a haunted carousel in a very relaxing way.

69. Boyfriend in every city- Roma Radz

Sucks that she can’t see any of her boyfriends cos of covid :(

70. Jaja ding dong- Will Ferrell

Get back in there and play Jaja Ding Dong !!!!

71. Highway- Jonatan leandoer96

Man, would be pretty sick to have 20 boys outside the club but alas the clubs are dead and I’ve only regularly texted about 4 people this year.

72. De nadie- Kali Uchis

Felt v sexy listening to this for the first time in a Morley’s in Honor Oak.

73. Weird Fishes- Lianne La Havas

This album was a pretty triumphant return for Lianna La Havas and me teenage self simply couldn’t be happier.

74. Micro Creature- Aya Gloomy

Love that despite everything about this song telling me otherwise, that the artwork for this single looks like Aya Gloomy is just chilling in the fields by my family home in Hampshire.

75. Si Ella Sale- Bad Bunny

Better get on the duolingo now if I’m gonna know what this guy’s saying at Porto next year.

76. Through my sails- Mountain Man

Truly gentle reimagining of an already incredibly beautiful song, mountain man make every word seem new!

77.Christmas Day (get me outta this funk) - Baggio and Blue 5 Years- Bath days

In joint 77th place are two banging Christmas songs that have soundtracked a pretty bleak Christmas period and have made me feel pretty joyous in their ways, despite one literally being called Blue Five Years.

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automatic-external-defibrillator · 5 years ago

Text

My Best Friend, the Demon 1/4

Based off of this post. Also I'm really sorry if you didn't want this. (It's finished! Part 2, part 3, and Part 4 are out) THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE SHYAN.

“But sir!” a small man cried, exasperated.

“No buts! Convince the dead to come back, or be banished!” the larger of the two commanded. The smaller man sighed dejectedly.

“Yes, Satan.” He bowed, leaving soon after. Once he left the castle gates, he was immediately met by another man.

“How’d it go, Ryan?” the man asked. “What was the summons about?”

The other, Ryan, turned to him, sighing. “I have to go to the surface, convince some wayward spirits to come to hell. Same shit Brent went to do,” Ryan explained. “Not having horns or a tail is going to throw me off, dude.” Upon mentioning these, he anxiously ran a clawed hand over his smoothed-back-looking horns while his spade-shaped tail curled loosely to the front.

His friend scoffed. “Better than me. Other demons see my tail shape and refuse to even look at me. I can’t even get a job around here!”

Ryan gave him a sympathetic look. “You know there are crescent communities. You’ve no reason to stay here while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, I guess it’ll be better for me. Stay safe, Ryan.” His friend left and Ryan headed to the surface to begin.

~~~

It’d been a month since Ryan came to the surface. In that time, he managed to land a job at a place called Buzzfeed, as per his friend Brent’s idea. About two weeks into said new job, he’d had the idea for a thing he called “Unsolved”.

Brent had agreed to do it with him, as long as they did a segment on crimes. Brent was always fascinated with the cimes humans committed. They pitched the idea and they’d filmed about 8 episodes of the crime segment, “True Crime”. Today they were filming the first episode of the “Supernatural” segment, the topic being “the Men in Black”.

It was also Brent’s last day on the surface, meaning if Ryan didn’t find someone to film with, Unsolved would be over before it even began. Ryan sighed as he compiled his notes, still not entirely used to not having claws. Brent pulled him aside.

“I found someone to take my place,” Brent started. “His name is Shane Madej. He said he’d do it because he wants to, and I quote, ‘fuck with the human embodiment of sunshine’.”

Ryan smiled, a look of disbelief gracing his features before he burst into a fit of laughter, Brent joining in soon after. “You didn’t tell him, though, did you?” Ryan asked through chortles.

“No, no. I’d never risk that secret getting out. Satan’d have our heads,” Brent chuckled. “I just laughed and said okay.”

Calming down, the two went to film the episode, Ryan feeling more relieved than before.

~~~

The next morning, Shane was pulled from his thoughts by the incessant beeping of his alarm clock. Unfurling one of his long arms, he smacked it, shutting it off. “How the hell do humans do this every single day, and why am I subjecting myself to it?” he grumbled to no one.

He all but rolled out of bed, stretched, and got dressed in his signature button-up shirt and pair of jeans. He was taking over for a demon co-worker of his who had returned to hell today. He’d asked him about a week before he was to leave, and Shane said he’d think about it. To help him make his decision, he watched what was available of this “Unsolved” show, and decided he’d fuck with this overly positive son of a bitch.

He’d heard from Brent that Unsolved was planning to start a whole “are ghosts real” bit and also that Ryan, his co host, was an avid believer in the paranormal. Thusly, Shane decided to play the unrelenting skeptic.

Shane went to work, and when he got there, he headed up to where his new desk would be, and to meet the poor, unfortunate soul he’d be working with. Ryan was already there when he arrived, too chipper for Shane. Especially at 8 AM. He wanted to ground pound the guy, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t. This guy was human and no match for Shane’s demonic strength.

“Ah, you must be Shane! I’m Ryan Bergara,” Ryan introduced, standing to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Shane managed, sitting down with a coffee. The room fell into an awkwardly tense silence, as they were the only two there.

“So, uh,” Ryan started, trying to start a conversation, “what caused you to agree to doing Unsolved?” Shane could hear him tapping his knees, anxiously awaiting a response.

“Brent asked me to about a week ago. Poor guy, what happened to him,” Shane answered, faking a sigh when he said the last part.

“You make it sound like he died. He just moved to help with his family,” Ryan chuckled. Shane sipped his coffee. Is that what his cover story is? he wondered.

“You heard what happened to his mom though, right?” Shane asked, deciding to start the fuckery now, and judging by Ryan’s confused look, it was working.

“No?” Ryan questioned, drawing it out as if to say “go on”.

“Yeah, she has a brain tumor. That’s we he moved,” Shane “explained”. Ryan, still looking confused, just slowly nodded and turned to do something on his phone. Shane took this opportunity to text Brent.

Shane: Man, this guy is fun to mess with.

Brent: Don’t mess him up too bad though

Brent: He’s still a good friend of mine

Shane: Is he always this chipper at 8 am?

Shane: Because if he is, we’re gonna have some problems.

Brent: No, it’s only when he’s excited or anxious about something

Shane let out a small laugh at that. “Poor little anxious baby,” he mumbled to himself with a small smile.

“What was that?” Ryan inquired. Shit. Shane forgot where he was for a moment.

“Nothing of concern to you, Bergara,” he snarked. Ryan looked slightly taken aback. His brown eyes seemed to turn black for a second, but when Shane did a double-take, his eyes were still brown. Did someone accidentally inject him with heroin? He figured it wasn’t that, as a lot more would be wrong than just his new co-worker’s eyes, so he chalked it up to paranoia and continued on with life. “So, what exactly do you do on this show?”

“Oh, uh, basically I research topics and you just kinda react to them. Although, I did get approval to go on location for the episode after today’s filming session,” Ryan explained, perking up slightly.

“What’s today’s topic, then?” Shane asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, if I told you, how would you give a genuine reaction on camera?” Ryan bantered back. “Fake surprise?”

Shane gave him a look that said “fair enough” and shrugged. “You got me there, Mr. Tanned Man.”

Ryan looked at Shane for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Mr.一 Mr. Tanned Man!” He wheezed. “That’s good. That was一that was good.” Ryan wiped a fake tear from his eye.

Shane sat there smirking at the man. He had to protect this bright ray of sunshine. He could see why Brent took a liking to him. He was a genuine person with a great laugh. Damn, he liked that laugh. It reminded him of a warm summer’s evening. He vowed to be the funniest bastard alive so he could hear that laugh more often.

A voice pulled him from his thoughts. “-ane? Shane?” Ryan was waving his hand in front of his face. “Are you listening?” Shit, he was staring.

“Yeah, sorry. Lost in thought there for a bit,” Shane blinked. “What were you saying?”

“I was saying that Mark is here. The cameraman?” Ryan said that like he was trying to jog his memory. “We can start filming now. You can help edit while I research the next topic.”

Shane nodded. “Right, yeah.” As they got up to go film, Shane realized he got himself in some deep shit.

~~~

Hiding being a demon just got a lot harder.

Ryan and Shane were at a church about to meet with a certified exorcist to talk about ghosts and other spirits that might be roaming around. Ryan had done the introduction outside and now they were headed into the chapel to talk with a man named Father Thomas.

Ryan was panicking, as he’d never been in a church before. He’d been on the surface for a month, give or take a week. Shane eyed him quizzically, and Ryan knew he had to calm down as to not raise suspicions.

“What’s wrong there, buddy? Never been to a church before?” Shane asked jokingly.

“Yeah,” Ryan answered.

“Yeah you have or yeah you haven’t?” Shane questioned, raising an eyebrow at the shorter man.

“Yeah I haven’t,” Ryan clarified. Shane stopped while Ryan continued walking.

“Never?” he asked, wide-eyed. Ryan hesitated a moment before nodding.

“I don’t think一” Ryan cut himself off before he finished his sentence, almost revealing his true nature. “I don’t think my family was all that religious.”

“Do you not remember them or something?” Shane asked, catching up to Ryan in two strides thanks to his long legs.

“Or something,” Ryan muttered. Shane, catching on that Ryan didn’t want to talk about it, dropped the subject.

The two walked into the sanctuary silently, and sat in a pew to talk with Father Thomas.

After that mess was over, the two headed down to the Winchester House. Once at the maze of hallways, stairs to the ceiling, and doors to death, the two got to ghost hunting. Ryan gave a synopsis of the place and they soon made their way to the basement, the alleged most haunted place of the house.

Ryan was quick to search for any lost spirits of the house to convince, hoping to fill his quota quickly and return home, much like Brent had. Fortunately, Shane had the idea to split up first.

“Alone, how about? I’ll go first,” Shane suggested. Ryan nodded, gladly letting him go first, as he was absolutely terrified of the place. Ghosts had nothing to lose, so they didn’t care if they hurt someone. Soon, Shane’s time alone ended, and Ryan was next.

Ryan set off to find some spirits. For the first five minutes, Ryan didn’t find anyone, but he managed to find a woman in Victorian era clothes at around minute seven. She seemed scared of him, turning to leave before Ryan called softly to her.

“I just want to talk,” Ryan stated, eyes turning black. “I’m here to request that you go to hell. I have my orders, and I will not leave until you do.”

The woman, still looking frightened, nodded, warily looking around before fading from sight. That was easier than I expected. Ryan thought to himself. The interaction lasted for about a minute, so Ryan still had two minutes to see if there were others.

Unfortunately, Ryan didn’t find anyone other than the woman, so he went back to the group consisting of Shane and Mark.

“How’d it go, Bergara?” Shane asked, bemused at the smaller man’s terror before heading down. “See any ghosts?” Shane used a weird version of Goofy’s voice when he said ghosts.

“Nope, but we still have two more places after this,” Ryan countered, cockier than he’d been the rest of their time here. Shane looked at him, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he raised his eyebrows.

“Where to next then, buckaroo?” Shane asked as they exited.

“Oh jeez, next we’re headed to Mexico to view the Island of the Dolls,” Ryan stated.

“Spooky,” Shane commented, “but neither of us speak Spanish.”

“We’re meeting up with someone from Buzzfeed Mexico,” Ryan told him. They’d reached the car and packed everything, their next location being a hotel until their flight to Mexico the next day.

#tw swearing #bfu fic #bfu supernatural #bfu true crime #buzzfeed ryan #buzzfeed supernatural #buzzfeed shane #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed true crime #demon!shane #demon shane #demon ryan #demon!ryan #long post #like a very long post

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bluboothalassophile · 5 years ago

Text

Preparations for the End

There’s this complexity to the world that most of the world doesn’t see she supposed. It felt like a one on one battle between good versus evil; with evil frequently outnumbering the good in these one on one battles. The encounters were violent, volatile, and dangerous, with so few who were genuinely in the fight.

Their world; though on the same plane of existence as the mortal realm, but it did not have the aid of the Justice League, or the Titans or Young Justice.

The world they lived in was isolating, it was numbing, it was meant for solitude, which terrified her as she saw her end coming.

“So, let me get this straight, you’re going to map out the world I showed you too, that I introduced you to?” he demanded as he came to sit down in the lobby. The Mill House; which had taken to calling itself the House of Mystery, was where they had come to after being discharged from her latest appointment with her oncologist; who had been passionately pushing her to consent to therapy, chemo, alternative, genetic, she had refused all of them just as passionately. She and Constantine went to keep up with her tumor growth.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“You are a feisty one, but you cannot see everything.”

“I’m not… Constantine there’s more to this world than we know and when I’m gone you cannot fight it alone,” Zed said as she accepted the tea, he offered her.

“I have help.”

“Zatanna hates you, she won’t let Zachary near you, Swamp Thing is defender of the green, not humanity, and Fate would only help you if the Four Horsemen were knocking on your door and killing you. Madame Xandu would run away the moment she even saw you coming.” Zed said. “You only have Chas. And the Adams aren’t part of this, they are suppliers of materials needed.”

“And what do you think this will do? I live in this world, I know the players,” Constantine snapped.

“No, you know what we’re up against, not the players on our side past you.”

“This is my world Zed.”

“And you are naïve, I have been searching,” she said.

“Searching?”

“Yeah, get he sketch book on the third shelf, fourth one, between the grimoire, and Hamlet,” she said.

“Zed,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been working on a map because I know you won’t actively look unless I make you.”

“Zed,” he hissed.

“¡Maldita sea Constantino! ¡Obtén el maldito libro ahora mismo!”

“I’m going!”

“Good, now come here,” she ordered as he grabbed it and took the crouch beside her.

“Fine,” he sighed.

“Look, I don’t know how this world works outside of what we do, but there are others doing work like us,” she said.

“There’s humans,” she opened the book to a pair of men she had drawn. The men were tall, standing by a ’67 Chevy Impala, one had long haggy hair, the other had piercing green eyes, both with chiseled features, and hard poker faces. “I believe they call themselves Hunters, they possess no actual Magical abilities, they’re humans who have sorted out human shortcuts to magical problems. Salting and burning ghost bones, speaking Latin for exorcisms, iron against ghosts, silver tests for werewolves, killing Vampires, ghouls, and other monsters.”

“That’s odd, who do they work for?”

“From what I’ve seen, they are solitary, they have few home bases, very coordinated, but also very independent, they don’t trust Magical beings, or Magic. Your best bet are these brothers; they are Winchesters I believe; I have drawn this rifle a thousand times when I search for information on them. They work with an Angel, not like Manny, a Seraphim, I think Cassiel, and an angel child I think, I cannot find a name for him though.

“There are also witches, a lot more than Zatanna and Fate,” she said as she flipped the pages past the images of what Hunters she had seen. “There are many. Different types, different heritages create different types of magic. But a common theme between the cultures is rare siblings of three, Charmed Ones as they are called. It’s a rare phenomenon. Mostly these witches, outside of Covens, are solitary, they can be either forces of good or evil, it depends on witch and their personal beliefs.

“There is one family that stands out, they reside in San Francisco, over a Magic Nexis. They live together, three sisters, they have families, also Charmed ones, three sets of children. Also, the eldest sister, her spouse is not human. I do not know what he is, but I think they’re angels, good ones, like guardians, not like… not like Manny, not Fallen.

“There’s schools, John, full schools, I’ve seen these amazing schools, for Magic, for the supernatural, for kids like me, kids with abilities. They’re not freaks or metas, they are welcomed, and it’s beautiful, amazing, all these kids, safe from cults, or abuse, they can learn, make choices, it’s amazing. Beautiful, and this is not something Zatanna can touch.

“There’s also the Angels, all of them, they’ve started walking amongst us, it’s amazing. They are still divine, and they don’t belong here, but something happened, I don’t know what, but last year, that meteor shower, it was them, they all are here, and I’ve drawn as many faces and wings as I could see, they aren’t all Fallen John, they aren’t all like Manny. Lucifer is in Los Angeles, he is with a demon called Mazikeen, they work in a club called Lux. He’s not evil, John, he’s not, I don’t know what he is, but they aren’t evil.

“There’s so much, I’ve learned more about our world than you could imagine, and it’s not all bad. There are Alchemists, Sorcerers, Voodoo Priests who aren’t like Papa Midnight, Hunters, Witches, Creatures, Clairvoyants, Vampires, Werewolves, Gods, Godesses, Spirits, Ghosts, Warlocks, it’s a lot, and the world is so much more diverse than you thinking we’re flukes.

“The Originals, as I’ve learned they’re called, are the Original Witches, Vampires, and Werewolf bloodlines, they reside in New Orleans, even founded it, you might need them. There’s a lot, I’ve drawn what I’ve seen in the books, John.”

“Zed none of this matters, the supernatural it does not interact with the mortal world.”

“I know, Hunters take care of the ones who rouse too much suspicion.”

“And it’s not like any of this will help, there is no back up,” Constantine started. Zed dropped her book on the last page and Constantine stared dumbly at it. “Who’s that?”

“I don’t know, but she’s a linchpin, Constantine, between the mortal world and the supernatural. You find her, Constantine and she’ll save us all.”

Zed smiled at the girl, the woman really.

Her hair was long, straight inky black, her eyes were sharp and dark, her skin pale as ivory, her face etched in proud lines, unyielding, apathetic, her features a strange mix of many but stood out as proud and even commanding. The woman held herself like a queen, regal, proud, yet there was this deep sorrow in her eyes. A woman, who despite her young age had lived more than enough hells to never recount it. Zed had never seen the woman’s identity or hints to a name, only seen the girl walk through the shadows and punch a god in the face. The power she had witnessed in the girl, the power she radiated when Zed managed to see her, was a one she had never seen. Not even from the Gods she had seen.

This was the woman, who did not love Constantine, she was not John’s Epiphany, but this woman would save more than the world. She would salvage and save John’s soul.

“Zed none of this will matter,” he sighed.

“I’ve seen it all, and when the time comes, you’re going to be looking through the books. It will all make sense when the time is right,” she promised.

“You’re not dying Zed.”

“I am, and you will not stop it. This is the end I want. I will not be alone,” she promised as she grabbed his hand. “No estaré solo, porque estarás conmigo mientras abrazo a la Muerte como nuestro amante mutuo.”

“Stop with the Spanish love, I cannot understand a word you’re saying,” he sighed.

“Doesn’t matter,” she smiled. “This is my choice and my end, and this is the end I want John. I don’t want chemo to steal me from you, or our friends, and I don’t want to be my own ghost. I will fight with you in this fight until my bitter end,” she promised.

“You’ll tell me the moment something is off, and you will not be in any battles, and you will do the healer’s regiment of potions and remmedees, I will not lose you before the end. You’re…” he stopped.

She smiled a bit as she took his hand in hers. “I’m here until the bitter end,” she promised.

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one shot #hopes for a bastard #hopes for a bastard universe #john constantine #zed martin

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tokoyamisstuff · 6 years ago

Text

Guilt - Bucky x Reader

A/N: Here we are - the last chapter. I hope you like the ending! (:

Thank you guys for your love and support! Feel free to request any time! ❤︎

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Summary: You really hoped your anniversary would go a bit different than that.

Warnings: Violence. Near-death-experience. Self-loathing. Mild cussing. Constant change between Angst and Fluff. End gets fluffy af.

Words: 6005 Wait what?! Okay I’m supposed to do homework so I’m procrastinating lmao.

“Mission failed. The Agent is malfunctioning.”

One of HYDRA’s agents gave a status report to his superiors. Function. Like he’s a damn tool. But because of this, they were seriously considering just letting it be. A broken weapon needs to be thrown away as soon as it’s become beyond the point of repair.

You could just hope they’d really give up on him and not trying to get rid of either him or you...

“Oh, guess I’m still alive” you joked as you woke up, just to be met with a frowning Bucky.

A ray of sunlight hit his face, and the deep circles under his eyes were proof that he didn’t have any sleep. He sat on the bed, knees pulled to his chest. His brows were furrowed together and he seemed to be buried in thought.

“Bucky?”

No reaction.

Looks like it was still the Winter Soldier. “Ah, whatever” you thought, head still being a little fuzzy.

“I should not hurt you” he grunted, clenching his jaw. His voice was unsure at first, but his next words were more firm. “I won’t.”

“That’s sweet, darling” Your face split into a beautiful smile, cupping his cheek with both your hands to make him look at you. “Now give me a smile, would you?”

The Winter Soldier needed to remind himself to breath as you watched him expectingly, with those bright, beautiful eyes. When he watched you sleep the night before, he thought you must be what people call an angel.

Your boisterous laughter at him made his heart sink into his chest.

“I’m sorry” you chuckled, peppering small kisses among his face. “I’m sorry, it’s just...you looked so weird right now.” God, him awkwardly trying to smile was just more cutness than you could handle. It looked like a failed attempt to bare his teeth and snarl.

His eyes flickered from your eyes to your mouth - and before you could even say something, hips lips were on yours as he pulled you into his arms. A whimper escaped your mouth, but you shuffled closer to him to signalize that you’re okay.

“That was...not bad” you gasped, trying to catch your breath from the kiss that felt like it lasted forever - and still not long enough. Bucky on the other hand finally managed to position his mouth in the form of a smile, being proud of your praise.

When you shoved the covers aside and jumped out of the bed, you realized Bucky wanted to follow you.

Was it really good to leave him alone? Well, it was the Stark Tower - so what’s the worst that can happen? Tony is a control freak, so this place was heavier guarded than the Pentagon.

“Please, wait here” you odered your Soldier, gently putting your hand on his chest and feeling his muscles tense. “I’ll be back soon! Just a few minutes.”

“Morning, Y/N!”

You heared Tony’s obnoxious voice from behind you and were instantly reminded that you weren’t alone in the kitchen. Sure, you loved every single one of your teammates - but you’d give everything for S.H.I.E.L.D. to finally set Bucky free so you can live a normal life somewhere far away.

That would be a real way to start anew. He already told them about every plan, every single weapon HYDRA possessed - so it should be up to him when to retire.

“Hi” you muttered under your breath, a grumpy expression written on your face as you stepped into the kitchen bare-footed.

“Where’s the Tin Man?” he teased, giving you a questioning look. Usually, Bucky would follow you everywhere he could, just like a dog. You never minded it, though. “Relationship problems?”

“He’s not feeling so well, so I told him to stay at his room.” Gosh, you really weren’t in the mood to talk right now. So you’d just open the fridge and get something to eat, so you could return to your lover as soon as possible.

“He’s what?!” Oh no, Steve was here, too. You were so focused on Bucky you didn’t pay attention to who sat at the breakfast table.

“No need to worry, Rogers. I can watch your bestie on my own” you gnarled, making the others rise their eyebrows. It wasn’t like you to be so passive-agressive. Of course, you could become really sharp-tongued when it came to defending Bucky, but why are you being like that right now?

“You sure everything is alright?” Wanda asked with her usual, caring tone.

Instead of remaining cool, you buried your face into your hands. “Yeah, he’s really fine. If not, I’m going to call a doctor. Please just let him rest a little.”

Even though you already walked towards the door, but you still felt their piercing glares upon you.

Don’t let them notice something. They can’t see him right now.

You needed to protect him. At all cost!

“I’m back!” you cheered as you entered your shared room - just to find Bucky, still standing at his original position without having moved an inch. You were pretty sure he didn’t even shift his weight from one foot to another.

“You don’t need to take orders so literally...” Letting out a deep sigh, you took his hand into yours - and this time he was slightly squeezing it, making hum approvingly. “Let’s sit down! I’ve brought your favourite!”

The plates on the desk held a piece of plum pie with cream, together with a cup of fresh coffee. You were hoping that his favourite dish might help regaining a memory or two - but he didn’t seem to cooperate. Bucky sat down, mistrustful eyeing the contents of the cup he held in his hands.

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you began to pout. “C’mon, Bucky! I’ve learned how to make this pie just for you! Don’t you dare to think it’s poisoned or something.”

He wordlessly hung his head and took a bite of the pie, and soon his frown turned into a more relaxed expression.

“Does it taste good? It’s leftovers from yesterday but I stood at the stove for hours just for you!”

“Yes” he mumbled, still a serious tone in his voice. He was simply confused. Why would a nice person like you make this much of an effort for someone like him?

The Winter Soldier didn’t need comfort - he didn’t deserve it. That’s what they told him, all those years. And it was still stuck to his mind like a tumor.

You sipped on your own coffee and placed a hand on his knee. “It’s okay, Bucky. I never knew what it’s like to experience such horrible things. But it must’ve been so hard. And I’ll make the rest of your life as enjoyable as humanly possible! I promise you!”

“I don’t deserve this.” The look he was giving you reminded you of one night, where you sat on the rooftop and talked about simply anything that ran through your heads. Out of a whim, you asked the all-brave soldier what’s his biggest fear - and his simple answer was “You.”

When you asked him to elaborate, he told something that still captures your heart until this day:

“I’m scared that one day, you’ll look at yourself in the mirror and see yourself as I see you. You’ll realize just how amazing you are, and that you deserve way better than me...I’m terrified that you’ll leave me alone.”

All the torture he’s been through, and this is the one thing he picks to say he’s afraid of?

You’d sacrifice everything to make him understand that you needed him just as much as he needed you.

That your life was incomplete when he wasn’t there.

To make him see himself as the wonderful, involuntary fallen angel he is.

“That’s not true and you know that. We’ve had this talk so many times before, even if you can’t remember. But I love you so much and I want you to have everything you desire!”

“I want you.”

His answer made you smile. It was a sad and small one, but still a smile nontheless. “Idiot. You already have me! I’m not going to go anywhere!”

Bucky carefully pressed you against his chest and you could feel him shake a little as he mumbled a sole word: “Mine.”

You chuckled as you interwined your fingers with his and looked him deeply into the eyes. “Yes. All yours. Happy Anniversary, Bucky!” you whispered, and as soon as the last syllable escaped your lips, he found himself interlocked in a passionate kiss. The tender way of you holding his face into your hands made Bucky feel like everything will be okay.

“Anniversary?” The interrogation in his eyes made clear he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Yes! Our anniversary! We’re together for four years now. Too bad you can’t remember...”

His head went to a shade of crimson due to the shame of not remembering.

“Did you really never ask yourself who I am to you?” You rose one eyebrow, but continued smiling softly.

“My handler” he gritted, looking down to the floor in embarassment.

“Oh dear god, never!” you blurted out with a shy chuckle. “Bucky, I am your girlfriend! I could never be one of those horrible people!”

“Don’t tell me he doesn’t know what a girlfriend is” you thought. But still, Bucky faced the ground.

“Dear” you cooed as you continued, “I’m in love with you. I want to be close to you and make you happy. I want to spend my life with you!”

“Why me?”

You grabbed on the fabric of your shirt, as if you were experiencing a heart attack. “Why you? Oh, Bucky! It has to be you! Because you’re simply the most wonderful man I know!”

“I’m not. I’m a bad person.”

You put your index finger under his chin to lift his gaze. “You don’t know just how wholesome you are. Those past years, I couldn’t have been any happier - because of you! And that fact won’t change, Bucky.”

Bucky bit his lip. He bit it so hard that it began to bleed again, until your voice told him to stop.

Suddenly, he grabbed your shoulders. He seemed to have remembered something. An important matter he didn’t accomplished yet, but wanted to so soon. So he looked at you with genuine determination before asking:

“Then...Can I stay with you forever?”

Your moment got interrupted as your door suddenly sprung open and the Avengers bursted in.

“Bucky!!” they all yelled in unity, making him jump and pull out his hunting knife. Damn, you forgot even in casual wear he was still armed with some hidden weapons.

“What the hell, Barnes” Sam asked, giving a sniff at Bucky’s weird reaction. Not even with his usual PTSD he’d get so high-alerted.

You held your breath. Obviously the whole Avengers Crew were his targets. You asked him about the details of his mission last night. It was easy to trust him that he wouldn’t hurt you - but what about the others?

Seeing them made the image of his mission reappear clearly before his eyes. But they were all gathered here, and he was supposed to kill them one after another. Even though he already did take them on back at the UN, thee risk was too high.

“Sorry for bursting in” Natasha tried to defend them all, “We were just worried and wanted to pay him a visit.”

“Bucky, put that knife away” you said, and the Winter Soldier followed your order without questioning it, giving it into your hands. “Thank you, sweetheart” you cooed, raking your hands through his hair.

His eyes were startled, furious and loving - all at the same time.

“Y/N...what’s going on?” Wanda asked - but as she tried to put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, Bucky caught her wrist with his metal hand. He started cracking and twisting it, making her double over in pain.

“Bucky, no!!!” you yelled as you tried to free your friend’s hand from his grasp. “She’s a friend, it’s okay! Please!!!”

Your begging tone was enough to make him stop already. He was worried that Wanda might’ve intended to hurt you, and he didn’t want anyone else to touch you without permission. He was unaware of how physical contact works between people who like each other.

But one thing he did know. Right now, you were afraid of him. He recognized the look on your face immediately. Your fastened breath, the volume of your voice, as well as your trembling limbs.

Just like all of his victims were - before he killed them.

Soon, he found himself to be surrounded by heavy armed heroes - and you unable to know what to do.

“Please, just leave already. Guys, I’m begging you! Wanda, I’m sorry, but-”

“Y/N, go away from him. He’s dangerous.” Hearing those words coming out of Bucky’s best friend’s mouth made your heart split in two.

“No, he isn’t!” you yelled as you pulled his head onto your chest, in an attempt to keep him calm. “He is nice and gentle and just afraid, and you just have to leave!”

Still, your heartbeat was fastened. Bucky thought it might as well just break out of your ribcage, that’s how loud it was hammering against his ear.

Actually, it was just your fear of him getting hurt.

But he thought that right now, you see him as the monster he is.

How naive to think that HYDRA might’ve lied - they were right all the time. He was an unloveable abomination that was only good for bringing agony over everyone he’s affected with.

Right now, the void in his heart became bigger than ever before.

The small ember of hope you placed inside of him was crumbled down by a wave of guilt and self-loathing.

He should just die.

Why not right now, by the hands of the Avengers?

Doesn’t make any difference if he takes down on or two of them. They made you happy and a strange sensation came up in him that he couldn’t quite decipher: It was jealousy. Of them having what he can never have: Being able to be close to you without hurting you.

As he freed himself from your hug, you could see his desparation written clearly on his face.

“I’m sorry.”

The first one he’d send flying was Steve, who caused the wall he flew into to crumble until only a giant hole was left.

The other’s instantly reacted, with Nat jumping onto him, her legs wrapped around his neck, just like back at the UN. Why did she think the trick that didn’t work the first time would help now?

It was easy for Bucky to destroy the main piece of Tony’s emergency suit, leaving him unable to fight. Steve was still unconscious by the blow that went directly for his head. Nat was also knocked out by him having choked her - until Sam kicked his jaw before he could break her neck. Only a brief moment later, you saw Sam lying on the ground too - covered by blood.

Screaming so distraught that you thought the whole tower could hear, you begged both parties to stop.

But no one would listen. And you couldn’t do anything to help.

You were weak. Too weak to save the only person you ever loved, even though he was standing right in front of you.

But there was another problem: Clint didn’t have his weapons with them, and neither any protection wear. When Bucky was done with the others, he turned to face the Hawkeye and approached him with firm steps. You knew that in close combat, Clint had a major disatvantage.

A yell made it’s way to his ears and finally also into his mind. “Bucky, STOP!!!”

But it was too late.

His cybernetic arm went straight towards Clint’s chest, meaning to break his ribcage and destroy his heart. The swung was so powerful, he couldn’t pull back now. The metal in his arm was too heavy to do so.

The last thing you felt was the way of a strong, dull pain hitting the side of your chest. No matter how hard Bucky tried to back off when he saw you going between Clint and himself, he couldn’t prevent the tragedy that was about to happen.

The last thing you heared was the sobbing of the others as you fell to the ground. Before your head hit the floor, someone catched you, screaming in agony - it was Bucky. Your Bucky.

And then, everything went black.

“Welcome back, Y/N.”

The voice was Natasha’s, and as you opened your eyes you realized to be in the medical facility of the Stark Tower. Nat was sitting next to your hospital bed and was reading a book, waiting for you to regain your senses.

“I could hit you so hard right now...” she grumbled, putting the book aside. You wanted to sit up, but even the slightest bit of moving was just too much for you. It was so painful. And even more painful was the fact that you didn’t wake up to see Bucky being here.

“Do you know how much you worried us?!” Nat continued. “You can’t stay so naive forever!”

“How are the others?”

“No major injuries. Just a few bruises and Steve’s jaw is broken.” Her glare was piercing holes into your very being. This was how mad she was about your behaviour. “You should’ve told us the very second you realized it was the Winter Soldier.”

“You’d just have locked him away!” you yelled, but your voice cracked already. "I...I was sure he’d never hurt me...” you mumbled. “It was an accident. He didn’t want to do this.”

“How many times do you want to defend him, Y/N?! He’s a good ally, but you can’t be too close to him!” Tears ran down her face. That’s very unusual for a person so restrained and collected as Natasha was one.

And you knew why.

She was still madly in love with Bruce, alias the ‘Hulk’. But they could never be together - or at least he was thinking like that. Just like Bucky, he thought of himself as a dangerous being that wasn’t meant to find love.

And then, there was you - being happy with the Winter Soldier. Even controlling his murderous side to a certain extend. And it drew her crazy. That was just too much for her - to bear to look at you having what she couldn’t have. And like that, your friend distanced herself from you further and further.

Her excuse was always that she didn’t feel comfortable around Bucky, because he shot her back then. Oh god, how bad Bucky felt for leaving her with that scar.

But you knew it was a lie. Yet you never confronted her about that. What a bad friend you had become.

“Natasha, you always understood my feelings better than anyone. Would you stay away from Bruce if he wanted you to be together?”

You hit a weak spot there. Right in the bull’s eye.

“That’s just irrational! Y/N, you almost died! Stop talking about my issues, think about yourself! It can’t go on like this!”

Your voice was so weak and husky, and every breath hurt. What exactly did he do to you?

Looking around, you saw a giant box, and a pipe connecting it to your thorax.

“He broke some ribs and one of them popped your left lung like a balloon. You were still luck, though. He could’ve easily burst your whole chest open. Blood was filling your thorax and compressed your heart, so it stopped beating for a few minutes. That’s what the doctors say, at least. We all cried for you. We thought we were losing you! Do you understand that?!”

“Where is he?” you whimpered, tears rushing down your face.

“Where is Bucky?!”

“He doesn’t want to see you” Natasha said, standing up and shaking her head about how selfless you were. But she kinda liked that part of you, too. She just wanted to protect you.

“He’s talking to no one ever since the accident. But I was meant to tell you...He wants to break up.” She walked towards the door, just like that.. Of course she knew she should be staying with you after delivering such a message. But she just couldn’t. It pained her too much to see you like this.

“Then he should say it to my face” you said, now a blank and emotionless stare. You knew this was just his self-hatred speaking, but it still hurt so bad. Way worse than the physical pain.

All this time, you were giving it your best to keep him at your side. But it seemed he can throw it away without second thought.

“But...Nat?” you said, even managing to get up for a second to face her. The hope of you becoming friends again was still present in your mind. “Thank you.”

“He’ll come back” Your former best friend cracked a knowing smile.

“Bucky can’t live without you.”

He didn’t. No matter how long you’ve waited, he just wouldn’t come back to you.

It has been a few weeks now, and because your healing ability doesn’t work on yourself, you had to rely on modern medicine to do the trick. The giant bruises sure took their time to disappear, but it was alright. Now being single, you had all the time in the entire world anyway

Clint was visiting regulary, still feeling bad for you having saved him. Even though you assured him a thousand times that you would always put your life on the line for a friend. And that you knew he’d do the same.

You all would risk your life for one another. And that’s why you loved your friends so much. No one would talk badly about Bucky, even after he whiped the floor with them.

The others came by occasionally, scolding you for not going to the X-Ray examines or other stuff meant to uplift or control your recovery. It was hard for them to see you in this state, and knowing they provoked the Winter Soldier into doing so.

But you just didn’t felt like it. Without Bucky, you didn’t felt like anything at all. Even if it meant unnecessarily putting your health and even life in danger.

“God, Y/N! How many times do I have to tell you to not leave the medical ward?!” Steve yelled from somewhere behind you. You were lying on the rooftop of the Stark Tower, which was - thanks to you - covered by grass and many flowers. A garden on top of a skyscrapper, watching the sunset - what could be better for your mental health right now?

You didn’t open your eyes at his scolding, simply enjoying the fading but warm sunlight on your skin. The sound of the machine that kept your lung working for as long as it needed to heal was interrupting the peaceful silence.

“Leave me alone, Rogers. Please. Nothing you say can change my mind anyway. So don’t bother.”

“He wouldn’t want you to be so reckless” Steve mumbled as he walked away.

“If he’d care, he’d be here - with me” you whispered, biting your tongue to stop the tears from reappearing. How was he doing right now?

The lack of knowledge about his situation drove you into insanity. Not that he hurt you, but the fact that he could hurt himself.

Little did you know Steve was just on his way to the Winter Soldier’s room, trying to talk some sense into him.

He had mantled the whole room in darkness, and didn’t leave ever since you were injured and he carried you to the medical station. For how many hours did he cry his heart out until they told him you were stable?

At this moment, he was already prepared to lose you - because of his own selfisness. He needed to leave you as long as he was still able to. No matter what this meant for himself.

When Steve entered the room and turned on the lights, he saw that Bucky had destroyed most of the furnance - except for the photos of you. He could clearly see the patterns of his fist having hit the wall on several spots.

Never before he’s seen his friend so devastated. He couldn’t bear to look at the dark circles under his eyes and the hollow cheeks. Bucky was staring into the void, still mentally debating if he should just jump out of the tower to end this farce that’s his life.

“Bucky” Steve said firmly and with sympathy. But he didn’t even do so much as looking at him. Did he even notice someone was there? Didn’t look like it.

And he couldn’t face his friends anyway. He hurt every last one of them. Even though they gave him a second chance and tried to treat him like he wasn’t a homicidal maniac. That was beyond redeemable.

“Y/N is in danger.” He knew this would bring Bucky back and out of the dark corners of his mind. And it succeeded. Bucky looked up, desperation clearly visible in his eyes.

“You’re the only one able to talk sense to her! She’s being careless about her health ever since you’ve left, and we fear she might soon overdo it...or...well, maybe start harming herself. She’s changed without you, man. I’ve never seen her so gloomy. It scares me.”

Bucky’s voice was sore from being underused for weeks, but the words he spoke were still strong and determined.

“Where is she?”

“I told you to leave me alo-”

Your words got stuck in your throat when you realized just who came to your rescue. Sitting on the ground with your feet crisscrossed, you wished the world could just stop right now. Having that talk right now just was too much for you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” This was what he wanted to say - but honestly, he didn’t feel like he’s got the right to intervene with your life any further, in any kind of way. So he just sunk down to the ground next to you, looking at the view of the city at night - together with you.

He thought you’d be furious with him. That you’d beat him and yell at him. Or even worse: That you’d ignore him. Tell him to go away, that you didn’t care and didn’t love him anymore.

“You know” you started, still looking into the distance. “Hospitals are pretty boring. Especially when your supposed boyfriend doesn’t even come to visit.” Turning around to look at him, you saw pain written clearly on his face.

But your own, rock-hard expression dropped the moment you saw tears fill the rim of Bucky’s eyes, as he fought them from spilling down his face.

“I’ve missed you so much, you goddamn asshole!” you said as you tackled him over, repeatingly beating on his chest. “How could you?! How could you leave me alone for so long?!”

“Y/N...I hurt you. I’ve hurt you so bad, how am I ever supposed to look into your eyes again without feeling like the monster I am?!” Bucky lay with his back on the cold floor, keeping himself from the urge to embrace you to ease your pain.

“Didn’t I tell you already that you’re not a-”

“No!” he interrupted you. This was the first time he’s ever raise his voice at you, and you instantly felt all the air being sucked out of your lungs.

“I knew this would happen one day! I knew it, Y/N, yet I still let you persuade me into trying a relationship with you! Now I can’t lie next to you without fearing to crush your body any second! I can’t be around strangers because I have to fear them knowing the words! I can’t touch your skin without seeing that scar and being remembered about what I am! Everything you and the others told me about me being one of the good guys - it’s all bullshit!”

You wanted to protest, to say something. Anything! But your words wouldn’t roll over your tongue as easily as they usually did. So you couldn’t do anything else than just to lie on your former lover’s body, and breaking out in convulsive sobbing as he talked so badly about himself.

“I’m so messed up!” he whimpered, covering his face with his flesh arm. “I can’t even trust my own mind! I’m too dangerous to be with you! And yet, I can’t stay away from you! I’m the most selfish piece of shit!”

“So am I” you finally regained your ability to speak. If it was for Bucky, you could overcome even the most difficult hardships. “I know you feel bad because of me, but you can’t change my mind. I’ll stay with you until my dying breath.”

“You mean your death, which would probably be on my hands” he hissed angrily. Angry of himself.

Still, you pressed your body to his, making it feel as if you could never be separated again. “I need to show you something. Could you help me get to our room?”

Your weak, pleading eyes made it difficult to say no to your wish. And so he did, thinking it would be the last time he’d be together with you. Bucky picked you up and curled you into his muscular arms, while you held the machine with your own ones.

Arriving at the room, you saw what Bucky had done. He mumbled a quiet “Sorry...” as he let you down on the still intact bed. Seems like he just destroyed his own belongings.

“Wait” you mumbled as you searched for something under your bed, then finally grabbing something covered by gift wrap. “Here it is!”

Bucky shot you a quizzing look as you held the present into his face. “It was meant to be for our anniversary, but, well...You know.”

Both of you sat down on the edge of the bed as he carefully unwrapped what you had so beautifully decorated.

It was a giant book. Just his name as the title in a beautiful font. Even his favourite colour. And when he opened it, he gasped:

There were photos not even he knew have been made of him and his former life. From his school to his time in the army, and part of Captain Americs’s special forces. Many old and new newspaper clippings, telling the story of the courageous deeds of Sergeant Barnes, as well as some praising the White Wolf. Reports of him having served his duty in WWII formidably, and so on...Even a copy of his birth certificate. Photos of his parents, which he barely even remembered. Most of the photos and documents were were old and wrecked, but still beautiful - broken, but they still had their own charm. Just like him.”

“What the hell is this?” he whispered in awe, looking through it with eyes as wide as a child’s.

"It’s you” you shrugged with a wide smile on your face, watching every reaction of him closely. “I know it’s cheesy, but I thought...Well, I thought that...You know, very time you’re thinking badly about yourself, or maybe times when the Winter Soldier went on a rampage again. Even just when you’d have another nightmare - you can just open up this book and see you - the real Bucky.”

For a while, Bucky’s glare shifted from the book to your face over and over again, his jaw dropped.

“It was really hard to get some of these” you chuckled. “Most of them were in S.H.I.E.L.D’s or even HYDRA’s databases only. Gosh, good thing some of my favourite spies helped me so well with getting them. Even Nat was willing to assist me. And Cap’s girlfriend send me everything she got from S.H.I.E.L.D, beause she still owed me one for bringing Steve back to her unharmed from that one mission!”

Suddenly, you felt two strong hands - one on your waist, the other on the back of your neck, Bucky’s body was finally close to yours again. “Y/N...” was everything he managed to get out before he cried to his heart’s content. So many times he’d surpress the emotions he held, but right now, he was an open book - literally.

“Hush now, darling” you hummed to soothe him, stroking his messy hair. “I love you so much, it hurts when you’re not at my side. It’s just impossible for me not to be with you. There’s no other choice for us than to be together.”

Both of you needed hours of simply lying in the bed, crying over everything that had happened those past weeks.

It made him remember just how he cherished those quiet moments with you. With you, he wasn’t forced to talk much, or act all happy like he did for Steve’s sake. He could relax, stay silent and enjoy some peace and quiet. It was not bad for him to be sad. And still, you wouldn’t just tiptoe around him because you feared that he was too sensitive. You’d speak your mind at any time, because you trusted he could take it. With you, he felt normal.

He could be himself, and you’d love him for this - for whatever reason. Bucky didn’t know why you did. He was simply glad that you did.

“I’m sorry our Anniversary was such a failure...”

“At least we had some plums” you snickered, his face still on your chest. He could listen to your heartbeat forever. It was prove that he has a reason to continue living - and that this life wouldn’t be a bad one.

Bucky forced a hesistant laughter, before he stuttered “Well, I-, umm, I mean....”

“Don’t you dare to try and break up again, Barnes” you gnarled as you felt him trying to stand up.

“No! It’s just...” he turned around to his nightstand, a small package hidden behind it. “I know it’s not much, but...This was supposed to be my gift for you.”

Suddenly, he jumped out of the bed - and fell on one knee.

“B-Bucky?”

All sense of words stumbled out of his brain, but he tried to pull himself together:

“I-I know I’m demanding much with this step, but...uh, probably not a good way to start, but - my therapist testified that I’m not able to fight any more. He convinced the UN to let me go, and..well, now that I’m finally free...I want to bind myself to the only person I willingly paid loyality to. You.”

He didn’t even end his speech, but you were already on the ground with him too, hugging Bucky so tightly he could think that you wanted to crush him. Your warm tears were wetting the skin on his neck before you started to cover him in kisses.

“That’s not everything! There’s a part two for my gift - I’ve talked to T’Challa, and bought a small farm in Wakanda. We’re safe there, even from HYDRA! I mean, only if you want-”

“Of course I want to, you dumbass!” you whimpered loudly, your eyes swollen from tears but not less captivating for him. You were the only one who’d look at him with those eyes - ones that didn’t see the Winter Soldier, the danger.

And like that, he remembered those past days trapped inside his own mind.

How kind and gentle you were, nevertheless. Every touch you comforted the broken Soldier with was lingering on his skin as he relived the memory. You were never afraid of him.

“Spending my life with you was all I ever wanted!” Your words made the ice around his heart melt in an instant, and all the doubts got washed away with it. Bucky looked at you - his future wife - before asking the question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, will you make me the most luckiest man in the galaxy...and marry me?”

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ourlittlesecretokay · 6 years ago

Note

Hi yes hello who do I speak to about getting some more pregnancy au? Because that is exactly what I would like, please and thank you, it makes everything extra tangled up

Hi yes hello welcome to the department of bad AUs, it is I your ship captain and chef speaking. Tonight’s menu includes extra tangles, I hope you enjoy

“Are you sure it’s not just a tumor?”

“Olaf.”

“Hear me out-”

“Olaf, hair!”

Quick, he pulled her hair back just in time for her to throw up again, “I’m just saying, this seems like something much less sinister. Probably just internal bleeding or-” wincing, he looked up as she vomited again. “Maybe cancer?”

“Help me up,” grabbing his arm with a shaky hand, she began to pull herself to her feet, flushing the toilet.

“How can it be morning sickness if it’s the evening? I think we need another opinion.”

Brushing her teeth, she sighed, holding onto the sink edge silently, not meeting his eyes. Suddenly aware of just how uncomfortable he was, he looked down, hoping the way he patted her shoulder was soothing.

“If you want me to go, I will.” She spoke matter-of-factly, staring at the sink drain as she spit.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just…”

“I know.” Holding his arm again, she straightened up, brushing the hair back from her forehead. “Can you help me to the couch?”

A large part of him wanted to tease her for asking for help. She never asked for help, would bleed out before she let someone think she wasn’t strong enough. But she was so pale, so weak, and so as she leaned against him, he wrapped an arm behind her, guided her out of the bathroom.

“Are you okay?”

“As I can be.” As she sat down, he was struck again by how small she was. The dress she wore cinched together beneath her breasts, hiding her stomach, but even so, she was still tiny. “Look, I know you don’t want this, but calling me a liar isn’t helping. I’ll go, and you won’t have to-”

“No! No, I wasn’t saying that. It’s just- It’s a lot.” He shook his head. “It’s not an easy thing to hear.”

“It’s harder to do, if you can imagine that.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t remember the last time he had apologized and meant it. Even now she wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for anything in particular or just to placate her, but she couldn’t mind either way. He let her lean her head on his bicep as he brushed his fingers through her hair.

“Can you… tell yet?”

“Beyond the constant nausea?” Opening her eyes, she looked up at him. His eyes were so brown. Like a broken beer bottle, she thought, and briefly wondered if the kid would get them.

“You know what I mean.”

“You tell me.” She slid her hand over her abdomen, pulling the fabric tight.

“Eh,” shrugging, he traced along her waist and hip with slow fingers.

“No?” looking down, she tightened her grip.

“I mean… maybe? I don’t know. You’ve always been-” quick, he stopped his sentence.

Cocking an eyebrow, she sat up, “I’ve always been what?”

“Nope. I’m not falling for that trap.”

Partially terrified, partially hoping to make her laugh, he shook his head vehemently.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe something is wrong.” Staring down at her belly, she frowned, her forehead pinching together in consternation.

“Of course something is wrong. I thought we already covered that.” Not appreciating his joke, she stared coldly. “But I’m sure it’s fine and its just the… usual… problem.” Uncertain, he placed a hand on her stomach. “You know, now that I think about it, yeah, I can feel a difference.”

“I know you’re trying to help, but you’re just being weird,” she whispered the words, still upset.

“Here, stand up for me,” taking her hands, he helped her to her feet,. “Maybe we just need a better look.”

Awkwardly, she held his fingers, shuffling her feet as she stood before him. “Well?”

Pursing his lips, he gave her a purposefully slow perusal, “Can’t tell yet. Give us a spin.” Sheepish, she pivoted back and forth, her dress catching the slightest puff of air at the bottom.

“A real spin. Show me what you’ve got, Baudelaire,” he clicked his tongue in fake disappointment, glad when she smirked and obliged. Letting go of one of his hands, she spun out a little, albeit slowly, giving him a nice little show. “Oh yeah,” he whistled, nodding seriously, “you are positively glowing.”

“Stop it,” she laughed, actually smiling.

“Radiant, really. Who knew something so pretty could produce so much vomit?”

“Be serious. Can you tell?” she squeezed his fingers, regrounding him in her anxiety.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” he shrugged, touching the fabric of her dress. “They cut these things so strangely. Leaves far too much room for the imagination.”

Frowning again, she nodded silently, resigned. He hated when her distress went quiet. At least when she was angry, there were things he could say. But this empty fear? There were no guaranteed words for that.

“Can I?” He paused, fingers touching the hem.

“Sure,” she shrugged, trying not to seem as awkward as he felt, lifting the fabric until he could see her belly.

Trying very hard not to stare at the pink lace lining her panties, he let his gaze move upward cautiously. Her stomach was round. Not round as one might imagine when hearing the threat of pregnancy, but definitely a purposeful swell. The weight rested above her hips, a clear curve set to her waist. Truth be told, it might even be an improvement, some softening added to her form. If he hadn’t known, he wouldn’t have thought much of it at all, but since he did know, there was nothing else to think of.

“Oh my god,” looking up slowly, he stared at her in quiet bewilderment. “You’re pregnant.”

“Trust me,” nervously pained, she smiled. “I know.”

“That’s ours.” Holding her waist, he looked back to her stomach, unable to hold her too soft eyes. They were too big; too much fit into them.

“I know. I was surprised you still had swimmers too.”

Shocked and horrified, he looked up at her in temporarily mute distress, “How old do you think I am?”

Looking down again, she craned her neck to better see, “Do I look as bad as I feel?”

“Seriously, Violet, you know how young I am, right?”

“Because I feel like absolute hell.”

“Oh my god. You have no idea how old I am, do you?”

“I swear, I don’t know how I’ve gained any weight at all with how much I’ve thrown up.”

“I’m still in the prime of my life! I am still reaching new peaks!”

“And this isn’t even supposed to be the worst part! Why the hell would anybody do this on purpose?”

“For god’s sake, I was man enough to slip past your birth control! I’m the most virile person you know!”

“I can’t even fit in most of my clothes anymore. God, what am I going to do? How can something you can do accidently get so expensive?”

“Still have swimmers, my ass. The real miracle is that I didn’t do it sooner!”

“Are you saying you did this on purpose?” her gaze snapped to him accusatorily.

“Of course not,” he scoffed, offended. “But let’s be honest; if I wasn’t such a specimen of manhood-”

“Oh yeah, that’s my man. A man’s man,” rolling her eyes, she snorted. “Rough and tumble and so very, very masculine.”

“Oh, absolutely, Darling.” Smiling, he pulled her forward between his knees before both of them paused, remembered that they weren’t those people anymore. Looking away, she dropped the hem of her dress as he let go of her, cleared his throat.

“Do you want any tea?”

“That would be great,” with genuine gratitude, she sat down, thumbs fidgeting.

“Okay, I'll… be back.” Awkward, he stood, taking another moment to stare at nothing in particular before leaving for the kitchen.

#pregnancy au #long post

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whoacanada · 6 years ago

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Fun Fact: in version one of ‘if you’re going through hell (keep going)’ bitty was actually evil haunting Jack, trying to kill him so they could be together, but then it wasn’t Halloween anymore so I made it less murder-y

(WANNA SEE???)

Bitty’s pregame post-its were always bursting with affection, and these are something else entirely. The note on top reads, ‘It looks bad now, but don’t give up on us’. The one after, ‘You don’t need this. You don’t need me. I understand.’ And another, ‘I seem to be running out of friends. Good thing I still have you.’

They’re unfamiliar and unsettling. Jack knows he wouldn’t have chosen to keep these over the genuine love notes he remembers so clearly. Jack thumbs through a few more and his eyes catch on one closer to the bottom, signed with a red ‘B’: ‘I didn’t want this.'

The last few notes are just variations of ‘come home safe’, that eventually break down into rough, aggressive scribbles that just say ‘GOT YOUR BACK’, over and over.

Jack’s seen enough. These weren’t written by Eric; more likely a shitty gaslighting attempt by his ex.

He shoves the notes back into the storage box, presses his palms against his tired eyes and unfolds his legs to let the blood flow back where it’s meant to. Doctor Reiss had said he might experience lapses in memory. He’s tired. He might even be asleep right now.

Sunlight creeps across the carpet and Jack breathes in, one-two-three, and out, one-two-three. When his vision begins to spark with pressure blossoms of yellow and green, he blinks against the light and reaches back to grab another post-it.

‘Have an amazing game, sweetie! The Kings don’t know what they’re up against <3 ‘

Jack huffs and lets his head fall back against the wall. So much for ‘a few months’ before the hallucinations kick in.

“You’re supposed to grieve,” Eric continues, chiding. “You didn’t give yourself the grace to process what you lost. You ran away from it. From me. That doesn’t exactly scream be-all, end-all commitment. But it’s all okay, now, because you’re here, and I forgive you.”

“Sun’s coming up,” Eric says, not lifting his head from Jack’s shoulder. “Time to go.”

“No, Bits, you can’t leave —”

Eric laughs, the sound ringing just on the edge of desperate. “Oh, no, baby, you sweet thing, I’m not going anywhere.”

Jack tries to swallow against the tightness in his throat and finds he can’t speak. A soft hand pats his arm sympathetically.

“I’m really sorry about this, maybe not as much as I should be, but, now that I’ve finally got you here … Honey, you understand, right? Everything I’ve done, it’s been for us.”

Jack manages to make a noise of protest and Eric leans over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You really think your luck is that bad, hon? Boston? Katrina?” Eric taps the back of Jack’s head lightly, right over the tumor. “This little thing?”

“That — was — you —?” Jack chokes, beginning to see spots.

“I did this all for us,” Eric repeats earnestly, leaning closer, as if for a kiss. “I love you, Jack. I never stopped —”

A door slams somewhere close and Eric jerks away when Jack startles — the whole room tilting on its axis as he blinks to find himself on his back, staring at the ceiling’s wooden support beams. Jack pushes himself up on his elbows, reacquainting himself with his chronic headache and aching legs.

He coughs hard, barely able to get his breath back, and coughs, “Bittle?”

There’s no response. No flicker of light, no distant sound of skates on ice, and even the hockey team coming in for morning practice can’t keep him from launching into a full blown panic attack.

Someone says, “Dude, is that Jack Zimmermann?”

He fumbles for his bag, tugs at the laces on his skates, and shoves past a kid half his age, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt he needs to get outside as soon as possible. As he stumbles past the locker room to the loading dock, he hears someone yelling at him to stop. Pleading for him to stop.

He keeps going, keeps running, and when he’s burst through the freight doors and is standing squarely on the cracked asphalt Faber’s loading dock — panting, shaking — he turns finds Eric pacing at the open loading door like a caged animal, unable to follow.

“Please, honey, come back — I didn’t mean to scare you, you said you were ready!”

“Did you just try to kill me?” Jack yells hoarsely, chucking his bag to the ground and fighting the urge to retch.

“But, sweetheart, I didn’t actually kill you,” Eric reasons with false confidence. “More like a practice run, you know? I’m just trying to help you be ready for what’s coming, just like you helped me with my checking fear, remember?”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Jack can’t help the laugh that bubbles up.

“Just, come back inside, please? I messed up, and I’m sorry I scared you. Please —” Eric’s tone shifts from apologetic to desperate and Jack can’t quite reason through what’s happening. He reaches up to prod at the tender skin around his neck and knows he can’t be hallucinating. Bitty is here. He’s real.

And he just tried to kill Jack.

“Were you telling the truth? Crisse — did you — ?”

Fuck tried, he is killing Jack.

“I can’t lose you,” Eric cries. “It’s been so long, Jack, I hate it here, I just want to go home.”

“So, what, your solution is to condemn me to the same existence?”

“I don’t want to be alone,” Eric covers another sob with a desperate laugh. “If you’re here, I’m not alone.”

#cw: character death #ghost!fic #if you're going through hell #my fic #my stuff #abandoned plotlines of the stars #angst #au of an au #zimbits

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echodrops · 6 years ago

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Issues with Voltron Season 6 (Part 3)

A continuation of my extremely long vent about the most recent Voltron season.

<-- Part 1 is back here.

<- Part 2 is back here.

This time it’s (mostly) about Keith and Shiro!

All right, so while I think the treatment of Lotor’s character was the true worst offender of this season, the entire clone Shiro plot line has just driven me nuts from start to finish, and the culmination of it in this season just heaped more salt in the fire.

Let me preface this by saying I love Shiro--I genuinely love this character and have felt like the EPs had no idea what they were doing with his character since the end of season one. Everything I say in this post is an extension of the fact that I feel like this poor man has been mistreated and misused by the writers since practically day one.

At least as far as I understand it, the EPs’ original intention was for Shiro to disappear at the end of season two and not return until this point in the show, which would have been an absence of a season and a half (19 episodes). I absolutely understand the higher level executive meddling from Dreamworks that forced them to scrap this idea and bring Shiro back into the story earlier. Simply removing a character from the plot for over a year’s time and then expecting to bring him back in and have some major emotional payoff would have been utterly stupid. No one would have cared at that point, and everyone would have been left wondering why they bothered to return Shiro to the plot at all.

But that doesn’t mean that the route the writers took to “fix” the issue is any better. Why in the world does this entire clone plot line exist? It’s honestly like they sat down at the table and said “What is the most roundabout, complicated, and unnecessary way to fix our Shiro problem?” and then went “Okay, let’s do exactly that.” There are so many ways they could have chosen to solve this problem instead:

1) Leave the real Shiro on the astral plane, and have periodic cuts throughout other episodes to Shiro struggling to “survive” on the astral plane, possibly dealing with apparitions of Zarkon etc. Experiencing difficulties due to the extreme isolation, trying to reach out to the team in critical moments--hell, he could have been there with the manifestation of the Black Lion, and and the writers could have shown him learning awesome things about the lions, the universe, the Alteans, etc. etc. Meanwhile, outside, Keith could have stayed with the team and grew into his Black Paladin leadership role organically instead of the artificial “Well, we aged him two years so now you know he’s mature and leader-worthy!” The drive to find Shiro could have continued to lead Keith and could have served as a more logical reason for Allura and company to be swayed by Lotor--he could have tried to convince them that Shiro might be trapped in the rift or something, and that could have been their reasoning behind being willing to explore the rift despite the imminent danger. Hell, it could still end with Haggar controlling Shiro into a Shiro vs. Keith showdown--maybe gaining the secrets of Oriande would allow her to reach out and control Shiro on the astral plane--they could have used literally any other excuse! And then we’d get our Shiro and Keith showdown on the astral plane as a perfect parallel to the Zarkon vs. Shiro showdown from the earlier season! It would have been great!!

2) Scrap the astral plane idea entirely and just put Shiro somewhere on the other side of the universe with like... minimal working tech. The show cuts between Shiro’s antics across the universe and his attempts to make it back to the team--allowing for greater world building--and the team, where again, Keith is allowed to organically grow into a leadership role. Same reasoning as above, the team could engage with Lotor after Lotor makes a promise to help them find their missing Black Paladin or something. Meanwhile, Shiro is being mind-controlled remotely from Haggar, whose magic got into him from the glowing wound way back in season one or something. We still get our Keith vs. Shiro showdown, tada.

In essence, what I’m trying to say is that literally any other possible plot would have felt more natural and been a better addition to the story than going with “Shiro’s an evil clone and the real one died inexplicably 19 episodes ago.”

I mean, can someone actually articulate any positive gain from the clone plot line? In what way did this particular plot--these particular events--actually make the story better? Is there something here that I am just flat out missing? Was there something in this plot that could ONLY be done via this particular clone story? I am honestly struggling here to see any profit in this. I can only see this as an example of writers choosing the worst possible solution to a simple problem, possibly even out of spite.

As an aside, I think my true biggest problem with the clone Shiro plot line is the the underlying issue of why the EPs thought it was a good idea to get rid of Shiro in the first place. Several of their interviews have led me to conclude that they never expected people to actually like or care about Shiro, and that they themselves never saw him as more than a stepping stone for Keith to overcome in order to achieve his ultimate role of leadership.

But that entire thing doesn’t make any sense, because it hinges on one major premise that the writers never actually sold to us: Keith needs to be the leader.

Why? We’re literally never given a single compelling reason for this in the show itself. There is nothing in this show to support the idea that Keith should be the destined leader of Voltron. There’s simply no logical explanation for this in the show at all.

The only remotely reasonable excuse is that Keith was the leader in the original Voltron, so he should be the leader here too. Except “Keith” in the original show had an entirely different personality and was a perfect cookie cutter of the hero archetype. Sven wasn’t leader type in the original series; he bears minimal resemblance to the Shiro of this show.

So why does Keith need to lead Voltron? What does he bring to the table as Black Paladin that he could not have brought as the Red Paladin? Why are there so many parallels between Keith and Alfor, the Red Paladin, if Keith was just going to end up as the Black Paladin all along?

Am I genuinely supposed to believe “Because Keith was the leader originally” is the only valid reason the writers had for giving us this massive tumor of a plot--a plot that resulted in Keith’s leaving the team, Shiro becoming a clone, Lance being shoved even further aside, Allura getting a lion despite the EPs saying they wanted to make her a cool enough character she didn’t need one, and undermining essentially all the efforts of season one to show a meaningful lion/paladin bond?

I have never seen--from the very first episode of this show to the most recent--a shred of convincing evidence that Keith being the leader is, in any way, shape, or form, necessary or what’s best for the plot.

The entire lion swap plot line is, to my eyes, utterly unneeded, convoluted, and reductive. So much time was wasted on this that could have been dedicated to better examining the characters’ motivations and reactions to the numerous serious issues the show chose to instead gloss over...

Which is not helped by the writers’ lack of commitment to the color swap in the first place. If perhaps, from season three on, the show had consistently insisted that the color swap was permanent and we were never going to see Keith back in Red or Lance back in Blue, I might have accepted it. But the show writers are wishy-washy about even this!

This is literally how we ended season six:

Haggar deliberately says “the Red Paladin” in reference to Keith in this season--in a freaking episode titled “The Black Paladins.” The lack of consistency in messaging is actively painful to my sensibilities as a writer.

To sum up what I’m trying to say here: The clone Shiro plot line was the worst possible solution to a problem the EPs created for literally no reason, and the trajectory of the “Keith becomes leader plot” so badly shifted the tone of the show that tens of opportunities to better examine the world and characters were lost in order to progress a story line that the writers never convincingly sold to us as an audience in the first place. I can’t think of any word for this but “bad.”

(PHEW. THERE. I SAID IT.)

And this of course doesn’t even touch on the other issues raised by this season in regards to Shiro, namely:

1) How much of the clone body is actually organic material? Because in the flashback from season 3 (or was it 4?), the clone Shiro that was shown lying on the table made a camera sound as his pupils dilated, indicating that at least part of the body was mechanical, not to mention that the prosthetic arm literally grew to extend past the organic part of Shiro’s arm in the Shiro vs. Keith fight--did they put real!Shiro’s self back into a mostly robotic body? Are we ever coming back to this? Is it ever going to be discussed? Why do I get the feeling it won’t?

2) The fact that the clone’s existence was entire overwritten by real!Shiro is super creepy and maybe just because I’m coming from a long history in the Kingdom Hearts fandom, the idea of someone’s existence being absorbed despite them functionally being capable of being different people is super saddening. I was never emotionally invested in clone!Shiro because he was obviously a clone from day one, but the fact that he was a fundamentally good person who was trying his best, then had to face the horror of losing control of himself, fighting someone he thought was his best friend to the death, and then literally being swallowed by a person who wasn’t around to personally experience any of these things is discomforting. Not to mention that “Shiro just inherited all the clone’s memories!” makes absolutely no sense scientifically (and isn’t even explained magically in the show) and is, once more, a cheap way to handwave character growth--of course Shiro hasn’t missed out on more than a season’s worth of development! It’s all still there, even if he wasn’t the one to experience it! Now it’s just like he did, promise!) Miss me with this nonsense, please.

3) What kind of government does Earth have in place that a minor can leave foster care to go to military boarding school at the tender age of what looks like 12 on the apparent recommendation of a man who likely wasn’t even 21 years old? (It’s like, if the main plot itself was going to be completely illogical, couldn’t they at least make the backstories somewhat viable?) And not to mention, but... didn’t the Keith and Shiro backstory deserve more screen time? There was so much build up to this, and we got less flashback for Keith and Shiro than we did for Krolia and Tex! Matt and Pidge got more! I feel incredibly short-changed, especially because I feel like that was probably it and we’re probably not going to get many more flashbacks for Shiro and Keith specifically. I think their placement in the Keith versus Shiro episode was good, but there just wasn’t enough material there to really satisfy the longing I had to see Keith and Shiro grow up together.

“What I got wasn’t what I needed and I wanted so much more than what I got” is the summary of Shiro and Keith in season 6, essentially.

ALSO I CAN’T UNSEE THIS.

I burst out laughing at this scene when I actually watched the season--it wasn’t supposed to be funny but I could not stop laughing. Sorry Keith, or something.

Anyway, all of this also relates to one of the other major issues I have had with Voltron since season one:

4) The writers have no idea how to handle an ensemble cast, but they keep adding characters anyway!

Matt was introduced and effectively erased, Slav might as well no longer exist, Olia? Not sure why we even bothered to give her a name. Kolivan? Probably died off screen! Lotor’s generals? I have no idea why they even bothered to animate them into this season given how little impact they had! All the other existing Alteans on the colony? Erm... I’m sure we’ll get back to those guys eventually.

There’s a difference between “We don’t have time to dedicate entire episodes to side characters” and “These characters just functionally stop existing when we no longer have an immediate role for them in the plot.” The attention in this series is all over the place--Matt gets a ton of screen time in season 4, enough to make it seem like he’s going to be a recurring character--and then his existence is entirely ignored two seasons later. Slav could have proven useful at any number of moments in this plot--and yet he’s nowhere to be found. The allegiances of Lotor’s generals are so cheap that they could basically be swapped out for any random helmeted Galra cannon fodder with zero impact on the plot. I’ve genuinely never seen a show deliberately add so many characters to its cast and then so badly under-utilize them.

This is actively jarring because any new character that appears, you have to first ask yourself “Is it worth getting invested in this person’s story? How likely are they to never appear again after this season?” And there’s seemingly no rhyme or reason to who disappears--even people who could and should still be active in the plot get shoved entirely to the side without any explanation or justification for their absence.

And all this mistreatment of the side characters might be okay if the main characters were at least getting to grow and develop consistently instead. But that’s not the case either! We have Lance’s character back-pedalling, Hunk fans excited over mere scraps of their favorite getting screentime that isn’t a food joke, and Pidge... I was honestly concerned that some of her hacking footage from this season was stock reused from previous seasons.

Screen time in this series bounces around like a ball--whoever catches it gets to do something cool for ten seconds then has to immediately pass it to someone else. Keith is a ball hog but somehow STILL doesn’t get his issues dealt with respectfully.

This show sold itself on the tried and true premise of “power of friendship.” The entire first season was really about becoming a team. And yet the show writers seem entirely adverse to letting these characters grow together. All the best moments of the show are moments in which the relationships between characters are expressed in believable and meaningful ways. Lance’s pep talk to Allura on Naxela. Pidge’s moving mourning for Matt. Keith’s refusal to let go of Shiro. The show writers KNOW how to believably develop more than one character simultaneously--they know how to let characters share the spotlight--and yet they continually fall back on scenes which give the foreground to a single character, leaving the audience with the constant feeling that other characters are being short changed. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge fans have every right to be upset.

There’s no reason that Keith and Pidge’s character developments have to take place in entirely different episodes. There’s no reason that Lance’s insecurities and Pidge’s fears about her family need separate screen time. All of these characters’ issues--everything they need to overcome in order to become stronger, happier people--could be dealt with together, saving time and animation budget in the process.

I have never come across a show about being a team that so violently rejects the idea of its characters being you know... an actual team.

And I guess, while I’m here, one last little gripe:

5) Chekov’s Gun is a serious issue for the writers of this series.

Lance unlocked a sword in season 4. Where is it? Why has it not been used? Keith got a dog that can teleport. Why not just teleport the dog into the Sincline ship and let it eat Lotor’s face while he was in a cramped and defenseless position??? When elements like these are introduced to the story, viewers are trained to expect something to come from them. We can only assume that Lance’s sword and Keith’s dog will be plot relevant at some point. But when? The timing is terrible in this show--why make us wait more than a season for Lance’s sword to pay off when there were plenty of opportunities to work it in before now? Did the EPs really give Keith a wolf just because they thought it would be cool for him to have a “lone wolf” to relate to, despite the fact that part of the entire trajectory of his character has been teaching him the importance of relying on others and making meaningful bonds to other people? (How does it make sense to even deem it a “lone wolf” if Keith adopted it when it was just a tiny puppy?)

I mean, I LIKE the dog and I still think its inclusion was nonsensical and pointless... They could have introduced this dog in any number of ways, but “randomly dropped on the back of a whale in a space-time continuum with no logical origin point or reasonable explanation for being there” is what the writers went with.

This is nitpicking, I know, and don’t get me wrong, I’m all for Keith having a cool space wolf--but did the show really need another example of badly shoehorning in the EPs’ whims? Did the none of the editors really stop to go “Maybe we should do this stuff later or in a different way”?

At the end of the day, there are just a lot of problems with the story. Enough that, at this point, I feel ready to divorce myself from it. I’m going to continue watching the show--there’s no point in stopping now, at the end--but at this point, Voltron is always going to go down on paper for me as a show I loved for what could have been, not for what really was.

I don’t say any of this stuff with a light heart. I definitely give my all to shows and games when I get invested in them, and Voltron has dominated my fandom time for two years now. I’ve written hundreds of thousands of words about and for this show. No one can accuse me of not caring about it.

But it’s because I care about the show--and the heights I know it could have reached--that I do feel this upset and let down. I know this show could have been better. I wanted better for it. I’m not spewing senseless criticism because my favorite ship didn’t come true or something... I really believe that the show has tons of untapped potential, and I’m saddened by the fact that I feel like it’s all going to waste.

I’m not asking anyone to agree with me, nor am I telling anyone that they have to suddenly start disliking the show just because I dislike where it has gone. People all have their own opinions, and like things for their own reasons. My reasons for liking Voltron are essentially gone, but for the other people that are still enjoying it, rock on.

I really do wish I was still there with you.

#Voltron #Voltron meta #Voltron discourse #Takashi Shirogane #Voltron season six #Keith Kogane #black paladins #lion swap #you know things are bad #when a Kingdom Hearts fan is telling you that your plot line is unnecessarily convoluted #the clone thing was literally the most unnecessary plot I've seen in recent media #I still hate black paladin Keith #with a fiery passion #I can just press the GO BACK button #and rewind this show to season two #salt mountain

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