#i actually had started a fic awhile back about him torturing her back in the day

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Greif (Bo Sinclair x AFAB Reader)

This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile now cause I never felt good enough about it to actually post. I wanted to make a good hurt/comfort but not make it too over the top extreme and I'm really confident in this version of it to finally post it. This is the first time I've posted a heavier fic like this so please head all the trigger warnings I put for this one.

Notes: Minors DNI, This fic is written with an AFAB reader in mind though no specific descriptions are used the pronouns She/her are used in relation to the reader. Trigger warnings: Pregnancy, abortion talk (Briefly). Bo is really mean at least in the start, Hurt/Comfort. Afab reader with she/her pronouns used. Excessive Cursing.

"If you fuckin' think I'm lettin' you bring a fuckin' baby into this town you're fuckin crazy!"

Bo yelled as he paced around the living room of the main house. You had finally come clean and revealed to him that you were most likely pregnant. He was taking the news about as well as one would expect Bo Sinclair to.

"I didn't ask to get pregnant Bo! Maybe you should've been more careful!"

You screamed right back at him. Bo scoffed at your argument and shook his head, a nasty grin overtaking his face.

"I shoulda never let you fuckin stay here. I told myself the day you rolled into town that you were gonna cause me nothin' but trouble"

"Maybe you should let Vincent make me into one of his wax figures then Bo, or better yet, you can keep me in the basement under the station."

Bo froze at your statement and fixed you with an expression you had never seen grace his face before.

"You better watch your fuckin' mouth if you know what's good for ya"

"Why Bo? You can't handle the truth of what you were doing in that basement before I came along?"

"You have not got a fuckin' clue what you're talkin' about. When what you need to worry about is what your gonna do with bastard you got growin' in there cause it's not gonna have any relation to me"

He spat, motioning to your stomach.

"If you don't wanna keep the baby what do you suppose I do then?"

"I mean hell if I know, I'm sure the pharmacy in the next town over has some pills or somethin' to nip the problem in the bud"

"Y- you'd really want me to go through with that? After everything we've been through together? Are you fucking serious?"

"No darlin' I want you to go all the way over to the next town over and go on a fuckin' shoppin' spree!"

"How could you even suggest something like that Bo? After everything we've been through?"

"A baby ain't nothin' but a liability, a liability ain't a single one of us got time for. 'sides do you really fuckin' think Ambrose is the place to raise a baby?"

"You, Vince and Les grew up here! Plus it's not like you'd let me fuckin' leave and go somewhere else to raise the baby. You'd turn me into a wax figure before that ever happened"

"Exactly, so what happens when that rug rat grows up and starts askin' questions? Askin' shit about what his daddy and uncles do? Askin' about the figures? What the fuck are you gonna do then?"

"You explained what the 3 of you do to me pretty damn near perfect didn't you?"

You countered Bo's argument. You watch his face as another unreadable expression crossed it as he finally sat down in his recliner and put his head in his hands. You sat and watched him in sick curiosity before the overwhelming feeling hit you like a truck.

Bo Sinclair was afraid.

An emotion you quite honestly never thought you'd see Bo experience. Sure Lester had told you stories from when they were kids and scared of their parents, storms or the usual childhood fears. But this was different. Bo wasn't a child and this wasn't a storm that would just pass if he hid under his covers and waited long enough.

You sat looking at a broken son in the body of a man, a son who had never healed from the torture his own parents put him through. The cracks that Bo tried to conceal so well from his own upbringing were crumbling in front of you. The fears coming back to him, his mother's voice echoing in his head that he would just grow up to be like his father.

The fear that it would be twins, like him and Vince and he'd have to watch them be separated and not be able to do a thing for them. Not being able to take them to a hospital just to protect Ambrose and his brothers.

"You're not going to be like them Bo"

You broke the silence with a whisper. You could hear Bo sharply suck in a breath, you were treading on unprecedented territory with Bo. His childhood was just something he didn't talk or think about at all and now it was at the forefront of his thoughts.

"Shut up"

He mumbled back. A usual response for when Bo felt like you were trying to back him into a corner and he was running out of ammo to fight you off.

"You're not going to be like them Bo. You aren't them and you never will be."

You exclaimed louder. Bo threw his hands off his face and stood up so fast the chair tipped on it's back legs. He stood, in front of the chair, just starring at you, breathing heavily as emotions swam through his eyes. You decided to be bold and test the waters, you began to take small steps toward Bo, he wasn't attempting to walk away so you continued this until you were right in front of him.

"Bo"

You said softly as you stood directly in front of him. He finally snapped his eyes down to meet yours.

"Bo, you're going to be better then them. You're going to be a good dad Bo, you've had a first hand experience of what not to be like as a parent, it's going to be rocky sure but-"

"My mama always told me I'd end up being just like daddy, Just a mean son of a bitch who never had anything nice to say to no one."

Bo cut you off, a much softer tone then before when his fear was translating to anger.

"Do you want to be like you dad? Are you gonna hate this baby if it doesn't come out to be what you were expecting?"

Bo look at you as if you had grown three heads.

"Of course not, it's my kid, how could I not love my own flesh and blood."

"If you know that, and aren't planning to emulate your father, then why are you so worried about ending up like him?"

Bo was stunned, no one had ever talked him through his emotions like that.

"T-that was the only image of a father I ever got. I don't know what a good dad is like. I don't know how "normal" kids who parents actually wanted 'em around had it"

You reached down and grabbed his wrist gently. Bringing it up and rubbing your fingers over his scars, the scars that told many glaring stories of what shaped him into the cold man he was today. You were thawing him out though, slowly but surely.

"You'll learn, No ones saying it'll be easy, but you're capable of running this whole town and taking care of the four of us, I'm sure you'll pick up fatherhood just as quick as anything else."

"Well that ain't my only issue with this whole baby thing though"

"What else is wrong then Bo?"

"It's- It's fuckin'" He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What if it's twins, and their conjoined like- like me and Vince were."

"Oh Bo"

"We ain't got no doctors here, and it's not like we could go stay in another town for the duration of it that would be too risky, god forbid you have complications too. I just- I don't know if I could do that darlin'"

Everything was coming together and your vision on why Bo was so angry was becoming clearer and clearer. Bo wasn't angry at you, he was scared of loosing you. Scared of being alone when he had finally found something he never thought he would ever get to have.

"Bo honey, I know it's scary, but what happened with you and Vince was rare. There's no guarantee that this baby will even be twins. You should've brought this all to me instead of just yelling."

"I know darlin', I should've went about it better. But I guess when you told me you were pregnant I- I got scared. The entire time you've been here I've had these scenarios in my head, worryin' about what would happen"

You were speechless as you watch as he turned away from you and began pacing again, this time without the yelling. The entire time you had known Bo you had never known him to be one to talk about his feelings. "I'm not a fuckin' pussy" He was remark to you when you would ask him what was wrong.

The front door swung open as Vincent returned from the wax museum. Bo stopped as your gazes moved to Vince who was now frozen in the doorway of the living room.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Vincent signed. You looked at him apologetically before flicking your eyes over to Bo to see what he would say.

"Nah Vince it's nothin'. Just uh- She's pregnant is all"

Vincent perked up and his gaze immediately flicked over to you.

"Really?"

He signed, giving off an aura of excitement. You nodded at him and mustered a smile

"I'm gonna be an uncle!. I'll start reading dad's old medical books and learn things to help with the delivery"

"Now Vince we ain't even-"

"I know he had an entire book about it, I'll start getting set up for prenatal appointments too. Maybe we could even go to the next town over for checkups and stuff, we'll need stuff for the baby too"

Vincent kept rambling in sign, something he did often. You couldn't help but laugh at his childlike wonder at the prospect of being an uncle. You looked over to Bo, who was noticeably less tense as he watched his twin's excitement over the new member of the family.

"Vince chill out for a sec, having this baby is so risky. What if it's twin and they come out like us? You're gonna separate 'em?"

"Well all things considered, the pregnancy only has a one in 250 chance of becoming a twin pregnancy. Plus we're identical twins, only fraternal ones run in families which means two separate eggs would have to be fertilized instead of the egg splitting."

Bo and you look at Vincent in dumbfounded shock as he signed the information as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where the hell did ya learn all that?"

Bo asked still in shock as he looked at his brother as if he had grown another head.

"In dad's old medical books" Vincent shrugged "I'll leave you two alone now though, I should go get researching"

Vincent signed in reply before turning and heading upstairs to his bedroom. When you heard Vincent's bedroom door close you turned back to look at Bo who was already looking at you when your eyes met his. A lighter mood fell over the living room and smile at him.

"A one in 250 chance huh?"

"Yeah, I reckon so"

"You wanna take that chance daddy?"

All the emotions of the night wash over Bo's face as he thinks for a moment then answers.

"If you think it's a good idea, can't really argue with facts I suppose. But there's gonna be rules."

With that Bo is back, the rule making irritable Bo you fell in love with when you rolled into the gas station all those years ago.

"What rules are we talkin' about?"

"For starters your gonna take it easy, when someone comes into town your gonna stay here at the house and out of sight. No heavy lifting, no helping Vincent anymore, no walk-"

"Bo, Just wrap me in bubble wrap then yeah?"

"I mean I could go to the next town over and find somethin-"

"I was joking Bo, You're not wrapping me in a protective layer"

"I can if I want too"

He mumbled under his breath. I bit back a laugh and rolled my eyes.

"Whatever you say Bo"

"Hey I run this town-"

Bo begins the spiel you've heard about 20,000 times since you began living here as you walk into the kitchen, the cravings starting to take over, as he follows you to explain how he runs the town and how what he says goes and if he has to make more rules to keep you he will.

As you stand in the kitchen, eating your snack and listening to Bo's spiel. Something deep down inside you, lets a feeling wash over you that maybe just maybe, everything will be just fine.

[darthfrodophantom]

Heeeey, Darth!! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💚

Hi Summers! What a great idea! I love this!

Here are the five favorite fics I've written, in no particular order (but maybe a bit of an order):

A Secret Uncovered Summary: When Danny's transformation is caught on tape, Danny has a whole new battle to face, including a press conference, Valerie, and, of course, school. But who is the mysterious ghost who set him up? And how much can he possibly mess up his life? Reason: This has always been my favorite of the pieces I've written. I poured so much love and work into this piece over (many) years. I'm so proud of it. I set out to tell a story of what it would be like if everyone knows (before Everybody Knows AUs became a thing and even before Reality Trip haha) and used it as a vehicle to show so many different reactions. I've had so much fun working on this. (And there may be a cross-post to AO3 very soon!)

Tortured Truth Summary: Danny's parents discover that the ghost boy is half human. Now that they've captured Danny, will he submit to torture and reveal himself, or is the revelation just the beginning of their problems? Reason: I'm starting with my old ones here! This is actually the first fic I ever shared with anyone, and it's also the first fic I've ever finished. While the torture is tame compared to today's standards, I feel like it has a great emotional payout and I enjoyed taking a micro-examination of the family unit's reactions and using Danny's illness as a way to force everyone to confront his powers.

The Red Vengeance Project Summary: With cameras strapped to their foreheads, Paulina and Star venture into the woods to bait the ghostly urban legend to appear in the hopes that Phantom will come save them. It seemed like a good plan in the light of day, but they get more than they ask for in the dark, claustrophobic, and dangerous woods. Reason: This was one of the first DP fics I'd written in a long time. It'd taken a break and just come back to the phandom to write this and another fic for Ectoberhaunt and I loved it. It brought me back to why I loved writing for this phandom in the first place. I picked this one over my actual first fic since coming back because I enjoyed writing this one more. I loved playing around with the different POV and I felt like it resulted in a really cool effect.

Micro-Unmasking Summary: Great timing prevented Danny’s secret from being revealed to Dash during their shared experience with the Fenton Crammer. But what would happen if his timing had been just a little off and Dash saw more than Danny wanted? Reason: This one's had a special place in my heart for awhile. I started it in 2009 and finally finished it in 2022! It was also just a fun topic that I enjoyed reading. I felt like I got to be a little witty in this one and I just really enjoyed writing it.

Prove That You Deserve the Answer Summary: After an argument with Jazz leaves Maddie feeling insecure about her role as a mother, she wishes she could understand her children better. She soon learns the dangers of making wishes around ghosts when she switches places with Jazz. But when this body swap allows her the opportunity to really talk with Danny, she realizes that maybe she can use this to finally see what's really going on with her son, and maybe find some way to fix their relationship in the process. Reason: I am so proud of this one. I sought out to finish a longer fic and I actually did it! I really pushed myself on this one, and I feel like it really paid off. I feel like the internal thoughts and monologues were so fun to explore and I loved writing from Maddie's POV.

And there are my five! This was a fun dive into my past works and really took some thought as to why they became some of my favorites.

Because this is a great idea, I'm gonna do some tagging! Maybe we can come up with a great list of reading recommendations from it by the end! I'm going to tag: @summerssixecho (you're not escaping your own idea lol), @underforeversgrace, @murphy-kitt, @nickelodeonstudios, and @lexosaurus

[queenofmorolianspiders]

36

Send me one of these in my ask and I'll write a drabble about my character in accordance to that word! 36 - Flight

Somehow, they hadbarely scraped getting out of a fight with the defected Purge. QB washeavily injured; blood was dried across her body, some of it his, butmost of it hers. Even though she was certain she would have wonagainst him in a... dare she think it, fair fight,his abuse of spacetime powers often put her at an edge.

Hewas an enemy she just couldn't win against, and she had no idea howshe was going to protect her son-- no, not her son, this kidalternate of a Purge, she couldn't let herself think that-- from him. It had been implied that Alpha and this... asshole had beenalive for far longer than she, even though she felt they were bothlying to her and that it had only been a human's millenia. Eitherway, he had come from a far more violent realm than the others, Alphahad told her. He was a mobster, and the marks he had left on her, theones that she could feel but not see, sure were proof of it.

QB wasn't sure howthey had escape this time. All she knew was that her son—no, thekid, was supporting her, as best as his small frame could. She was inpain, but suffered as silently as she could, gasping in pain onlywhenever the kid had unintentionally hit a spot that the defunctformer Alpha had abused. The control of time and space wasn't justlimited to the air around them-- no, he had the know-how to speed orslow time on a single part of a person's body. He had aged parts ofher, slowed down rate at which she would feel the pain, so that itendured for longer. Even the air she needed to breathe, he couldmanipulate, sucking the air in and out of her chest, sometimes atpainful intervals. He always made sure to return it right beforeshe'd lose consciousness.

“I want you tosuffer,” he said. It was a line that QB had used all too oftenherself, one she was familiar with giving, and hearing, but not oftenon the receiving end of. “I am more than capable of it. The othermes? They're too weak. They couldn't stomach all that blood, beingright up close in the thick of it, torturing someone for a long time.Sure, some of them could tellothers to torture for them, or build robots for it, but I find thatto be... well, too impersonal.”He paused, looking over her battered form. “You know how it is.People just don't enjoy the trauma that comes from torture nearly aswell unless you're the one to eke it out.”

Shehad spit at him, blood mixed with her saliva, but it only made himlaugh before he wiped it away in disgust. “I would love to cut outthat tongue of yours, but oh, you're so quick-witted, that itwouldn't be any fun without someone to quip with. Come now, try me.I'd love to have a conversation this time.”

QBwasn't intent on giving him the satisfaction.

“Nothing?No?” His expression lightened at her, as though he had a suddenlywonderful idea. “Are you simply....” and with a movement of hishand, all the air had come out of QB's lungs. “Out of breath at thethought?”

Involuntarygasps could be heard as she struggled to breath.

“Tsktsk tsk... That's no way to answer the question. C'mon now, tryagain. Try to speak this time, okay?” and with a reverse sweep ofhis hand, all the air rushed back into QB's lungs as he spoke. “Ihaven't got all day.” Then he laughed, maniacally. “AHAHAHA whoam I kidding, I'm a freaking Alpha, I can makemyself have time.”

Thepower display was obvious; QB was certain she would die here, thoughshe'd do her damnedest to not give this bastard the satisfaction.  

Shehadn't heard the crash, or the shouting that happened when someonecame by to distract him. Her head was woozy, she couldn't seestraight, but there was a sense of urgency as someone small struggledto free her from the table she had been tied down to. A voice kepttrying to speak to her.

“...-om!!Mommy! C'mon, we gotta get you out of here, please wake up!”

Ah.Right. Him.

“.....s'notyer mother........ kid.....”

Therewas shouting right by her ear as she was helped up. She felt someonelift up her arm, a spiky tuft of hair itching at it as a head proppedit up.

“C'mon,Miss QB! We gotta go. Alpha's trying to hold him off but I can't openup a portal yet. I don't even know where to. I need you to do it!!Mom!!!”

Herhead had slumped down from exhaustion, she was almost about to passout, but the name calling perked her up a bit.

“....Isaid, I'm not--.”

“Yeahyeah I know okay? But I need you to get us out of here. I can't do itby myself, I don't know how to yet. Please Mommy, I need you to stayawake. You can rest later.”

QBgroaned. It seemed that the kid was doing it on purpose now to keepher awake. What a bother. After she had resolved to die withoutseeing him again, here he was. Trying to save her from a monster. Areal monster. One who had every intent on ripping him apart, stealinghis powers, his lifeforce.... destroying and taking from himeverything. And the kid knew it too.

“Can't.”She attempted to move her hands to show him; she wasn't sure howeffective it was, but the pain from doing that seemed to say she waseffective enough. “Magic-locking shackles. Power dampeners. Bastardknew what he was doing.”

“Okay,okay... I'll find the key! It's got to be here somewhere, right?”QB's eyes began to focus again as she saw the purple hair of the kidcome into view. He dropped her arm as he began searching. She wincedin pain.

“On'im,” she hissed.

“Oh.Crap. Maybe I can.... stop time? Alpha said that I was gonna becomemore powerful than him... So... I should be able to do it, right?Right Mom?”

“Fuckif I know,” she said, struggling to keep upright. She didn'tremember anything that had happened after that, only that everythingwent white as she felt like she was falling.

Shehad come to at some time later, with the Kid propping her up again,and the fighting somewhere else. QB didn't know where. All she knewwas that she was at the same spot she was captured still.

“Mom?You awake?”

Adisgruntled groan responded to him.

Hegiggled. “'Don't call me Mom', right Miss QB?”

Shelifted up her head and let it fall in an attempt to nod.

“You'rereally banged up Miss QB. I don't know how, but we moved the fightaway. Alpha's trying his hardest to keep him distracted so we can getaway....” He sniffled. “But... But I don't know how! I don't knowhow to mask us, Miss QB! He could find a way to find us again! Idon't want to try and use my powers and then have him find us again,or hurt you even more, Miss QB! *sniffle, sniffle hic* I-I... I'm sosorry!”

QBblinked her eyes, trying to focus on the kid that was crying beforeher. She raised an arm to try and pat his head, but pain shot up andmade her stop. She closed her eyes, and looked. The shackles thatbound her power were off.

“Hey,”she said, more pain than soft. “Hey... Did you get them off? All ofthem?”

TheKid Purge wiped his teary-eyed face and snot on his sleeve. “Yea...I got the keys from him before they left. We can leave anytime now,but I was waiting for you to get back up. Please QB. I need you. Idon't know how to do anything on my own....”

Shestarted to sigh, but the pain in her chest made her cough from thataction.

“Fine...Fine...”

Asmuch as she hated fleeing, QB knew she was outmatched. She knew itfrom the beginning. There was no way she was going to win againstthat bastard that was after Kid Purge.

Ittook a few tries, but QB was finally able to snap her fingers,getting them away. She would have him walk them a bit before she'djump rifts suddenly, asking the kid every so often if he sensed howfar away they were yet from where Alpha and the other guy werefighting. It was when he finally told her that he couldn't that QBtold him to stop, and he leaned her against a wall.

Silenceensued for a few moments, though it felt like hours to the much moreimpatient child.

“Youlook like you got something to say,” QB said.

Henodded, trembling a little.

“Y-yeah...I'm just... wondering....”

“Whatabout?”

“Well...Are we gonna have to run from him our entire lives, Miss QB?”

[nephilim-problems]

Hi guys! This is a new fic I came up with where the reader is Barry Allen's ex-wife and she moves to Virgina and becomes a part of the BAU. It's basically a cross over between The Arrowverse and Criminal minds. Let me know if you want more 🥰

I had been working at the BAU for 3 years and I felt like I was in a family but what type of person keeps secrets for their family? Everyone is the answer but I felt guilty for hiding a whole half of my life, and my slight crush on my boss. I mean it was only a slight crush I found him very attractive but he of course was my boss and he would never go over that professional barrier. I tapped my pen against my desk, feeling like I had read the same line on the same report 7 or 8 times. This job was great except for the paperwork. The paperwork was always the most boring part. 

    “Guys we have a case,” J.J said walking into the bullpen. 

    I looked up and saw Hotch wasn’t in his office and Rossi wasn’t either. They were probably already at the round table. Morgan came around my side as I push my chair in. 

    “He’s probably already at the table sweetheart,” Morgan said putting his hand on the small of my back. “We should probably head there too.” 

    “Yeah we should,” I sighed letting him lead me away. 

    “There goes my weekend,” Prentiss said taking a seat next to Rossi. 

    “You had plans this weekend?” Morgan asked sincerely as we sat down. “I stopped making plans years ago.”

    “I still like to try,” She smiled. 

    “We wanted to take Henry to the zoo this weekend but I guess Will will have to go alone,” J.J said, sending a text I guessed to her boyfriend. 

    “I actually didn’t have plans so,” Reid replied, making me chuckle. 

    “I wanted to go check out that new restaurant down the street, but I guess there’s always when we get back,” I laughed as Garcia set a case file in front of me. 

    “Happy friday my darling profilers you are going to central city, Missouri, 3 women found dead all dumped by the side of the road going into the city. All 3 showed signs of torture and rape and then there is this, which is why the central city police is calling us in,” Garcia spoke but all eyes wen wide after we saw the pictures.

    “He removed their tongue,” J.J said looking disgusted. “That’s new.”

    “Actually this is the second time we have seen this. The last time was when Holis Walker killed 4 people in order to promote his book,” Reid replied. 

             "So rage maybe?" I said. "Maybe these women mean something to him."

             "He shows remorse with the way he dumps the body," Morgan replied. "But he's so angry when he kills them." 

              "Either Way we have 2 days to find this girl alive. Wheels up in 30," Hotch said, collecting his case files and bolting out of the room. 

               I started to collect mine when Penelope, Emily, and J.J sat around me. They had left all their stuff on the table where they were sitting and they were all staring at me. 

               "So when are you going to tell Hotch you have a crush on him?" Emily asked, staring into me. 

"I-I don't have a crush on Hotch," I chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "He's my boss, that would be completely wrong."

"You think you can hide that from some profilers?" J.J asked, smiling at me. 

"I am not hiding anything," I laughed when suddenly I saw Morgan coming up behind Penelope.

"Baby girl, why are you picking on her," Morgan asked, setting his hands on her shoulders. 

"Oh we're just teasing little miss (Y/N/N) about her crush on hotch," Emily said causing everyone to laugh. 

"And I just said I didn't have a crush on Hotch," I said standing up. 

"Sweetheart we all know, its okay," Morgan laughed, making me uncomfortably shuffle towards the door. 

"I definitely do not have a thing for Hotch," I replied walking towards the door. "I have to get my go bag before anyone else starts in om my supposed crush on hotch." 

I heard laughter from behind me but ignored it and ran to grab my bag. I quickly scooped the bag up and ran to meet the team. 

Soon we were sitting on the jet discussing the case when the pilot announced we would be landing in 10 minutes. That was Hotch's que to start handing everyone a job. 

"Rossi, you and agent Prentiss head to the abduction site, Reid, you and Agent Allen head to the dump site, J.J, Morgan, and I will head to the police department," Hotch finished then Morgan cut in. 

"Reid and I were actually hoping to head to the police department," he said and Reid looked suspiciously at him then turned back. 

"I wanted to start the geological profile," Reid smirked unconvincingly. 

"Okay I will go with Rossi, Prentiss, you head to the crime scene," Hotch replied, sighing and looking over the file. 

"Actually, sir, I would like to go to the abduction site if that's okay with you," Emily smiled. 

"I'll go to the dump site then. We will meet back at the station when we're done,"Hotch replied. 

The rest of the team smiled at each other before looking at me. I rolled my eyes at them and crossed my legs. They were absolutely right though, I did have a massive crush on Hotch. It started as just thinking he was hot and wanting to feel him thrust into me then I found the comforting side of him. I had gotten kidnapped while on a case Morgan joked it was a "rite of passage". It wasn't terrible. He had cut me a bit but when the team had broken open the door to his house it startled him enough for me to wiggle out of my restraints and attack him. Eventually I had to stab him just as Hotch broke in. He doted over me for weeks making sure I was okay and that he was always there if I needed to talk. It was very cute and it made my feelings for him grow more intense; however I was going to deny it until I was blue in the face. Even if it was no use because I was lying to a group of profilers. 

It was an uncomfortable ride to the dump site. I was trying to focus on the file in front of me but it was unbearably hot in the humid Missouri weather and for some horrible reason the a/c wasn't working. I was closer to using the file as a fan than actually looking it at. Hotch had taken his jacket off and loosened his tie which had me on edge. It looked as hot as I felt. I couldn't take my eyes off him but I didn't want him to see me. 

Soon the car was stopping and I was hopping out thankful to be out of the car but somehow it was hotter outside. 

"Hotch I can see the body was from here," I said standing on the other side of the car. 

"So he wasn't trying to hide her," he replied. 

I followed him down off the street and across the crime scene tape. 

"He has to have stayed here awhile. Posing on the victim, her hair is brushed, and her fingernails are painted. But he could be seen from the road," I said, throwing my hands in the pockets of my pants. 

"So he doesn't stand out," Hotch replied. 

"Or he parked his car and hid himself from view." 

"Then the car was plain enough not to raise alarm." 

"We're in Central City Hotch. I lived here for a bit, the locals are helpful. If they saw a car parked here at night they'd probably stop to ask what's wrong." 

Hotch actually looked a bit stumped for the first time since I had started working at the bau. 

"Then he has to have a van or truck," Hotch said.

"That's big enough to conceal her and him but something you wouldn't stop on the side of the road to help," I said stepping around the scene. "What about city or park trucks?" 

"They're large enough to block traffic from seeing him," Hotch paused. "Let's head to the station to meet with J.J, Reid, and Morgan. Hopefully Reid has something with the geographical profile." 

With those words Hotch was off with a phone to his ear I assume to Garcia. I followed close behind and slid in the car with him and we took off to the station. It wasn't far. We talked about the heat mainly and Central City. When we pulled up to the station I got queezy. This meant I'd have to see Joe and Barry again. It was a life I was hoping would never clash with this one. 

Hotch parked and we walked up the steps to the central city police station. It looked just as I remembered it, beautiful. J.J came fast approaching and stopped in front of Hotch. 

"Hotch, Captain Singh may have brought us in but the officers aren't cooperating. Detective Joe West was the officer assigned to this case." J.J said, stopping us in our tracks. 

"Is he cooperating?" Hotch replied. 

"For the most part yeah," J.J said tapping her thighs which she only did when she was frustrated. 

"They won't cooperate because of the flash," I piped up and they all looked at me confused. 

"Who is the flash?" J.J asked. 

"He's a vigilante from Central City. The U.S government has kept a handle on any information about him to keep from a vigilante crisis," Hotch replied. 

"If central city has the flash, why are we being called in?" J.J asked. 

"The flash is good at catching people but he isn't a detective. He can't find these women like we can," I replied. 

"I don't care about the flash right now, the only thing we should be focused on is finding this girl in the next 40 hours," Hotch said walking by J.J and into the bullpen. 

I followed and saw Joe talking to Reid and Morgan in a small glass room on the other side of the bullpen. I basically ran over and opened the door so excited to see Joe again. Then I saw Barry standing with them. 

"(Y/N)," Joe called out. 

"Joe," I smiled as he grabbed me into a large hug. 

"It's so good to see you," he said, squeezing me tightly. 

"It's so good to see you too," I smiled, parting from the hug and pulling Barry in. I hadn’t realized how much I missed his hugs. 

"It's been awhile (Y/N/N)," Barry said and I could hear the smile in his voice. 

"Yeah, I've missed you Bares," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist. 

"I missed you too," Barry mumbled as I pulled away. 

"You guys know each other?" Morgan asked. 

"Yeah, I was in college and I lived with Joe, Barry, Wally, and Iris," I said feeling a bit happier. 

"Barry has been helping us with the forensic side of things," Reid replied. 

"How far did you get with the geographical profile?" I asked 

"Not very far," Reid said, making his nervous smile. 

"Don't tell Hotch that," I smirked and patted him on the shoulder. 

"We're thinking male, white, late 20s early 30s, sexual sadist," Morgan said, throwing the file down. 

"Hotch and I think he might work for the city or parks. He's got a truck that gives him enough privacy to pose the victim and brush her hair," I said. "And the only thing we could think of was city and park vehicles." 

"I already called Garcia to check for white males in their late 20s early 30s that have access to city or park vehicles," Hotch said standing over me. 

"That's almost anyone," Joe replied. "Anyone who works for the city, parks and recreation, police, or even just rich CEOs who donate." 

"Can you get me a list of all those people?" Hotch asked. 

"Yeah," Joe replied and started walking. "Barry, I'm going to need your help." 

"Coming Joe," Barry replied. "(Y/N/N) you s-should come by for dinner. Iris would love to see you." 

"I'll make time for it Barry," I smiled and squeezed his arm as he left. 

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell us you were from here?" Morgan asked. 

"I'm not from here," I laughed trying to brush him off. "Iris, Barry, and I went to college together. We've kept in contact the best we can but things have happened." 

"Oh yeah what things?" Morgan laughed as Emily and Rossi came in. 

"The victim put up a huge struggle," Emily said and I silently cheered. "She threw anything within reach at him. We found bullet holes in the walls. We think she had a gun." 

Suddenly Morgan pulled out his phone.

"Hey baby girl it's Morgan," he said and we all knew he was calling Garcia. "I'm going to put you on speaker." 

"Hey Garcia, did Alyssa Smith have a gun registered to her?" Emily asked, putting her hands on the table. 

"Yes she did own a gun. She also had a hunting license," Garcia replied. 

"Did any of the other 3 victims?" Hotch asked, setting his hand on the lower of my back. It sent chills down my spine as I tried to focus. 

"Yes, all 3 victims had gun licenses and hunting licenses," Garcia replied. 

"Thanks baby girl," Morgan said. 

"Anything for you my love," Garcia replied as Morgan hung up the phone. 

 "You know, cases where victims have and use guns scare the shit out of me," I said, taking a step back and feeling slightly sad when Hotch took his hand off of me. 

"Thats our only pattern," Reid sighed. 

"I don't know if you've noticed but central city isn't exactly a hunting gun owning town. Most people don't own a gun unless you work in law enforcement," I replied. 

"Detective West said  law enforcement was on our list of people who had access to the vehicles we are looking for," Hotch said. "Get Garcia on the phone. I'm going to see if I can check on that list." 

"I'm going to talk to Barry and see if he has any contacts who saw anything," I said, starting to walk towards the door. 

"J.J make sure this doesn't get leaked to the press," Hotch said following. "Agent Allen, I need to talk to you." 

"Uh, yes sir," I said walking out and standing on the side. 

[queenofspades20]

Misery

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Synopsis: Y/n is the shy lab tech that is the only one in the tower that knows how to work on Bucky’s new arm. Bucky has a crush on Y/n and vice versa. Y/n gets abducted and Bucky and the team go to save her.

Warning: angst, fluff, violence, torture, mutual pining

Word count: 5.8k

So, from a melatonin-induced crazy dream, came this fic. I get the strangest dreams when I use melatonin. I couldn’t get this scenario out of my head, so I just went with it. The ending is a little rough, so sorry. Hope you enjoy!

Bucky was sparring against Steve when his arm made a strange grinding noise. Steve had just landed a punch near his shoulder. They separated and Steve grabbed his hand towel and wiped his face. “Uh, Buck. You should probably get that checked out.”

“You think?” Bucky asked sarcastically. “You mean new noises are a bad thing?”

Steve laughed and threw his towel at Bucky. “Jerk.”

Bucky caught the towel and threw it back. “Punk.” Bucky looked at his arm. “I think I’ll probably wait awhile.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to bother Y/n. I just saw her a few days ago for an update to the arm.”

“Buck, she’s the only one other than Shuri that can work on that arm and Shuri is in Wakanda. I’m sure she’d be happy to help you. She’s really nice.”

“I know. That’s the problem.” Bucky groaned in frustration.

“What, she’s nice? I fail to see how that’s a problem. You’d rather her be mean to you?”

“No! I forget what to say to her when I talk to her.” Bucky ran his hands through his hair, pulling it out of the bun it was in. “She’s really sweet and so smart. But I also think I scare her or something.”

Steve was genuinely confused. “Why would you think that? I’ve never heard her say anything like that about you.”

“She doesn’t really make eye contact with me. She’s never rude or anything, but she doesn’t smile when I’m around. I’ve seen her interact with you, Tony, Nat, and the others. She smiles with you guys, but not me.”

Steve smiled knowingly. “Y/n is pretty shy. It took her forever to warm up to us. When she first started, I don’t think she said more than a couple of words and that was usually restricted to ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye.’ You’ve only been here a couple of months. She might not feel ready to be more open with you just yet.”

Bucky thought on their interactions. He would be lying if he said he didn’t have a bit of a crush on the technician. He thought she was really pretty and she was definitely smart if she could keep up with Shuri and Tony. “I don’t know.”

Steve looked at his friend. “You know, she loves [favorite hot beverage]. I think if you brought her some when you went to get that arm checked out, she would really appreciate it. The café down the street knows her order pretty well.”

Bucky looked at Steve. “You think that would get her to feel more comfortable around me?”

“Sure! Can’t hurt anyways.”

“Thanks, Steve. I think I’ll do that.”

“You better hurry though,” Steve said, looking at his watch. “She usually leaves in a few hours, but who knows how long she’ll need to work on that arm. You don’t want to keep her super late.”

Bucky grabbed his stuff and ran towards the exit. “Thanks, Steve! I’ll see ya later!”

Bucky ran to his room for a quick shower. He looked at the time and saw he had just enough time to run down to the café to get Y/n’s [favorite hot beverage]. When he got to the café, he told the cashier what he wanted to get. Luckily, he knew Y/n and was able to ring up the order without problem. Once Bucky had the drink, he went back to the tower and took the elevator to the floor Y/n worked on. When he got to the lab, he saw Y/n through the little window on the door. There was no one else in the lab with her. She was hunched over the worktable, tinkering with something. Bucky walked into the lab, trying to not be too quiet as he didn’t want to scare her. “Hi, Y/n.”

Y/n jumped and set her things down. She turned in her seat and saw Bucky standing in the doorway. “Uh, hi, Sergeant Barnes. Is there something you need?” Internally, Y/n scolded herself for sounding annoyed by him. She loved when he stopped by the lab. He always seemed interested in what she was doing, even if he didn’t ask any questions. Y/n had the biggest crush on the super soldier, but didn’t think he would ever notice her like that.

Bucky held up the drink and walked over to her. “Steve told me this was your favorite. I thought I’d bring it by and ask if you could take a look at my arm? It was making a weird noise when I was sparring with Steve a little while ago. And how many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Bucky.”

Y/n gifted Bucky with a rare smile and took the drink. “Thank you! That’s really sweet. You didn’t have to bring me anything though. I’m always willing to work on your arm. Sit on this chair and we’ll take a look,” Y/n said, rambling with nerves. She gestured to the stool next to her. “And you’ll probably have to tell me a few more times, Sergeant.”

Bucky felt his face heat up and managed to smile back. He really did love her smile. “Thanks,” he said, sitting down.

Y/n rummaged through the table drawer for the tool kit she had specially put together for Bucky’s arm. “Okay,” she said, turning to him. “Let’s see what’s going on.” Y/n moved her stool closer to Bucky’s and grabbed one of the tools that would allow her to remove one of the metal plates.

Bucky, trying to think of something to talk about, blurted the first thing that came to mind, “What made you want to work here?”

Y/n was startled. This was the first time Bucky had tried to start a conversation with her. She felt her face heat up, not used to his attention being on her personally. “Um, I like working with my hands, but love developing technology. Tony found me working in a lab at my old university and convinced me I could do a lot of good here.” She looked down to his arm, to see what the problem was.

Bucky smiled, happy he got more than a few short words from her. Maybe she wasn’t scared, like Steve said. “I think you do.”

Y/n, who had been focused on some of the wires in the arm looked up, “huh? I do what?”

Bucky gently smiled. “You do a lot of good. I know I would be lost without you here. You’re the only one who can work on my arm.”

Y/n felt warm at Bucky’s smile. “I’m glad I can be of help.”

Bucky, who felt a little more confident in speaking with Y/n asked, “did you figure out the problem with my arm?”

“Yeah. Some of the wiring got knocked loose. I’m going to make a fix for now, but I’m going to shoot Shuri an email to see if we can figure out a way to make it so it doesn’t happen again. Or at least make it harder to happen.” Y/n finished replacing the metal plate. “How does it feel?”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

“Any time, Sergeant Barnes.” Y/n grabbed the drink Bucky had brought her and took a sip. It was exactly how she loved it. “Thank you again for the drink.”

“If you start calling me Bucky, I’ll bring you as many drinks as you want,” Bucky said with a cheeky smile.

“I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

“You wouldn’t be. You always make me feel welcome and I appreciate it.”

“You don’t need to buy me drinks for me to be nice to you. But thank you for this.” Y/n looked at the clock on the wall realizing the time. “I should be getting out of here. I got here pretty early and I need to get some things done at home.”

“Oh. Well, have a good night, Y/n.” Bucky felt dismissed. He thought they were making really good progress.

Y/n smiled up at Bucky. “Good night. Take it easy on that arm until Shuri and I can come up with a better fix.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here. Have a good night.” Y/n grabbed her bag and drink and made her way to the door.

As she got to the elevator, Bucky slowly made his way out of the lab. He decided to take to the stairs to the main residence floor, where he figured Steve would be. As he walked into the common room, he saw Steve sitting on the couch, reading a book.

“Did you visit Y/n?” Steve asked, without looking up.

“She fixed it.”

“And?”

“And what, Steve?” Bucky wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal of their conversation to Steve.

“Did you at least talk to her this time?” Steve asked, exasperated.

“Yes. She really liked the drink.”

“I told you it was her favorite. She’s slow to warm up to people, but she gets there when they show they can be trusted. She knows you’re not a danger to her. As far as anything beyond what you’ve had with her, it just takes time.”

Bucky nodded. “She smiled at me. I forgot to breathe. She’s so pretty and smart.”

Steve smiled at his friend. “You’ll get there with her.” Steve was confident that Y/n had as much of a crush on Bucky as Bucky had on her, but he wasn’t going to tell Bucky that. Y/n deserved to be the one to tell him, if his friend ever got the courage to talk to her. “Come on, let’s go make some dinner.”

Bucky and Steve made their way into the kitchen to make dinner for the night.

   Y/n was lost in thought as she made her way home. She was happy Bucky had actually talked to her more today. She knew she was more shy around people she didn’t know as well. Too many people had let her down before and it was hard to trust people. Y/n was happy to have the friends she did, but she also knew that her reserved nature prevented her from having more friends. It was just hard to open up to people.

Y/n made her way to the subway station from the tower that would take her to her apartment. She was so lost in thought that she failed to notice the van following her. As she crossed the street, the van pulled in behind her and men jumped out. Y/n felt something hard hit her in the back of her head. A bag was placed over her head and two men grabbed her by the arms and dragged her into the van. The van quickly sped off. A few people saw the incident but no one knew what to do.

Y/n awoke with blinding pain in the back of her head. She tried to move her arms and legs, but found they were tied to the chair she was sitting in. Though it pained her from the light to open her eyes, she peeked them open and looked at her surroundings. She was clearly in a warehouse, but she had no idea of where.

“Ah, you’re awake. Finally. I thought we had possibly killed you.” A voice came from behind Y/n. The pain prevented her from turning her head. She could hear footsteps echo in the room. A hand fell to her shoulder and moved to under her jaw. A man lifted her head and looked at her. “Kind enough of you to join us.”

Y/n jerked her head away from him. “Who are you?!”

“Someone who needs some information on the Asset.”

“Asset? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/n was terrified. She had no clue what the man was talking about and she had no idea how she was going to get out of this one.

“The Winter Soldier, of course.”

“Sergeant Barnes? I’m not telling you anything about him!” Y/n felt white hot rage. She would never betray Bucky.

The man laughed and raised his hand. He swung and backhanded Y/n in the face. “I have ways of making you talk.” He walked over to a tray that was set up a few feet away from where Y/n sat. He picked up a pair of pliers. “I wonder how long you’d last if I removed your fingernails.”

Y/n’s screams could be heard throughout the warehouse for several hours.

 The next morning at the tower, Bucky was looking forward to seeing Y/n. He had her drink ready for her and he was determined to have a non-work related conversation with her. Bucky had practically interrogated Steve and Natasha about what Y/n enjoyed, so he could try and find some common interest to talk to her about.

“Okay,” Bucky whispered to himself. “Just go in casually and chat her up. You used to charm the ladies in the 40s all the time.” He huffed out a sigh and opened the door to the lab. He looked around but couldn’t find the Y/H/C woman anywhere. Bucky did see Tony sitting at a table towards the back of the lab. Tony looked up when Bucky walked in.

“Hey, Manchurian Candidate. What’s up? What do you need?” Tony and Bucky had a generally good relationship now, though it had been seriously strained when they first met. Tony knew Bucky was responsible for his parents’ deaths, but also knew Bucky had no choice in the matter as a brainwashed assassin. It took a lot of individual and group therapy to work through their issues.

Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted Tony to know he liked Y/n. He was worried Tony would tease him or Y/n and that might scare Y/n off from him. “I was, uh, just looking for Y/n. I brought her a drink as a thank you for fixing my arm last night.”

Tony smiled. “She hasn’t made it in yet. But you can put it on her desk and I’ll let her know you brought it.” He looked at the clock and frowned. “Though, she is late, which isn’t like her. Maybe I’ll shoot her a text to see where she’s at.”

Bucky hesitated. “Do you mind if I wait? Just to make sure she’s okay.”

Tony, who was sending off a text to Y/n, didn’t look up as he answered. “Sure. I’m sure she’ll run in here any minute, apologizing for being late.”

After about 15 minutes and Tony didn’t get a response, he began to worry. “It’s not like her to not respond. Even if I text her in the middle of the night, she responds almost right away.”

“Why would you text her in the middle of the night?” Bucky felt a wave of jealousy.

“Because I don’t sleep much and I do a lot of work at night. I’m usually texting her thoughts of stuff for us to work on the next day. Sometimes I get an ‘okay,’ other times she’ll tell me her thoughts. She doesn’t always sleep much either.” Tony said matter-of-factly.

“Oh. So, do we call her?”

“No. If she didn’t respond to the text, she won’t answer the phone. I’m just going to pull up her tracker.”

Bucky just stared at Tony. “You have a tracker on her?”

“Everyone does. It’s a safety protocol. You and the rest of the Avengers have one embedded in your bodies. Y/n and other employees like her have one in a watch I give everyone that also works for communicating within the tower. I know Y/n only takes her off to charge it. She always keeps it close.” Tony pulled up her information on the computer. “What the…” Tony’s brow furrowed.

“What is it? Did you find her?”

“The signal isn’t coming in. That means either her watch is dead or it’s in an area that is blocking the signal. Either way, I don’t think she’s okay.”

Bucky felt panic rise in his chest. “How do we find her?”

Tony started typing. “I’m going to see if I can find where she was last seen.” He pulled up cameras on the streets. “Do you know what time she left yesterday?”

“Yeah. It was around 5 or so.”

Tony pulled up the time frame and went towards the cameras near the subway station he knew she always went to. What he saw filled him with dread. He saw Y/n get knocked out and then taken into the van. Bucky dropped the drink he was still holding. The hot liquid splashing onto his pants.

“We have to find her. Tony, tell me you can track her.”

Tony was frantically typing in the computer, trying to pull up a map of her tracking. Her signal tracked to a set of warehouses about 20 miles from the tower before it stopped. “I think she’s in this area. We need to get everyone together to go after her.”

Bucky ran out of the lab and went to find Steve and the others. As he was nearing his room to grab his gear, he heard Tony’s voice over the intercoms. “Avengers, we need everyone on deck. Emergency mission. Suit up and meet me on the landing pad.”

Steve came around the corner the same time as Bucky and they crashed into each other. “Bucky, what’s the emergency?” The super soldiers got up.

“Y/n got taken. We have a general idea of where she is, but she was taken last night. We don’t know if she’s still there or not.”

Steve ran into his room that was next to Bucky’s to suit up. They ran up to the roof, where the landing pad was. Everyone was there, ready to go.

“What’s the emergency?” Clint asked as he adjusted the quiver on his back.

“Y/n got taken,” Tony said as he strode towards the group. “We have a general idea of where she was but it was hours ago. We have to hope she’s still there.”

“Then let’s get going already!” Natasha exclaimed. She ran up the boarding ramp. Everyone followed her. Tony went to the pilot’s chair. He typed in the coordinates of the warehouses and set the quinjet to auto-pilot.

“Okay, Avengers. Here’s the plan. There are about 10 warehouses in the area. We don’t know how many hostiles are there, so we’re going to have to go in stealthily. That means landing a couple miles away and running in. We’ll have to eliminate each warehouse. I suggest we team up in pairs and keep in constant communication.”

Steve looked to Tony. “Sounds like a plan. I suggest Nat and Clint, Tony and Rhodes, Sam and Wanda, and me and Bucky as teams.”

Everyone nodded their agreement.

The auto-pilot alerted the imminent landing and Clint ran to the front to handle it. After the quinjet set down, Clint activated the cloaking and everyone disembarked. They took off in their teams in search of Y/n.

 Y/n felt nothing but pain. The man, who she came to know as Zemo, had been relentless in his torture. After pulling out her fingernails, he took to cutting and punching her. When that didn’t work, he started waterboarding her. Y/n knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. She didn’t think Zemo could do anything more to her. Y/n was wishing for death.

“I’m not telling you anything. You might as well kill me already.” Y/n groaned out. Her throat was hoarse from the screaming. She could feel blood dripping into her eye from a cut on her forehead from earlier in the torture.

Zemo laughed. “I think I just haven’t found the right torture for you yet. I think I know what might work. Have you ever seen the movie, Misery?”

Y/n felt her stomach drop. If he was talking about what she thought he was, the pain she had endured earlier would be nothing compared to what was in store for her. She watched Zemo walk over to a table and pick up a board that would keep her legs about shoulder width apart. Y/n felt tears gather in her eyes.

Zemo moved over to her and placed the board by her feet. Seeing the panic in Y/n’s eyes, he smiled sadistically. “I see you have. Then, you know what I’m planning.” He moved the bindings on her legs to up around her knees, so she wouldn’t be able to kick him again. He had learned his lesson around hour 3 of the torture. He placed the board between her legs, making sure it wouldn’t fall.

Zemo went back to the table and grabbed a small sledgehammer. Y/n struggled against her bindings as best she could. He made his way over to her, raised the hammer, and slammed it against her leg, just below the board. Y/n screamed louder than she had all night.

 Bucky could hear a scream pierce through the air. “I think that was Y/n.”

Steve looked at his friend. “I think it came from over there,” he said, pointing to the warehouse that was at the end of the row. He tapped his coms and signaled everyone. “I think we just heard Y/n screaming from the warehouse at the end. Does anyone copy?”

“I hear you. Clint and I are making our way over there now,” Natasha said.

Everyone circled around the building, looking for any guards. Clint took out the two that were standing outside. Natasha and Sam dragged the bodies away.

Bucky slipped into the building, running, determined to find Y/n. Luckily the building appeared to be one story, so he didn’t think finding her would be too difficult. He quickly made his way down the halls. He could hear sobbing. He quickly took out anyone he came across. The other Avengers were making their way, clearing the bodies behind him.

When he got to the last room, he could hear Y/n’s voice.

“I don’t care what you do to me. I’m not betraying Sergeant Barnes,” Y/n spat at Zemo. He had only broken one of her legs so far, wanting to see if he could get her to talk.

Bucky felt his heart drop. She was taken because of him. He couldn’t believe that she had held out for so long. Bucky knew he had to get her out of there and find a way to make it up to her. He tightened his grip on his gun and kicked the door in.

The door slammed against the wall and Zemo jumped up and turned to face Bucky. “Ah! Asset! How kind of you to join us.”

“Let her go,” Bucky growled. He was seeing red.

“And what, you’ll let me live?” Zemo taunted with a smirk.

“And I won’t prolong your death.” Bucky glared at him. He glanced over at Y/n. “Doll, I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.”

Y/n, who felt delirious from the pain, looked at Bucky. “I didn’t tell him anything, Sergeant Barnes. I promise.”

Bucky felt himself shake with anger. He did his best to convey he wasn’t mad at her. “I know, Doll. Don’t worry.”

Just then Tony flew in through a window behind Y/n. Zemo turned to face Tony.

“Y/n, you’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you out of here,” Tony said, staring at Zemo to make sure Zemo didn’t make a move towards Y/n.

Zemo laughed. “Ah, the Avengers. I wonder how you found me.”

The rest of the team made their way into the room. No one made a sound as they surrounded Zemo and Y/n. Y/n felt herself starting to lose consciousness, the blood loss and effects of the last several hours taking its toll on her. Natasha looked at her worried. “Y/n, I need you to try and stay awake for a little longer for us.”

Y/n struggled to keep her head up. She looked around the room as best she could. Her eyes found Bucky. He tried to look reassuringly at her.

Zemo, realizing he was surrounded, felt he had nothing to lose. He lifted up the sledgehammer, turning towards Y/n. Clint nocked an arrow and let it loose. It embedded itself in Zemo’s shoulder, knocking him down and away from Y/n. Bucky rushed forward and kicked Zemo away. He knelt down in front of Y/n. Bucky shouldered his gun and carefully moved the board away from between her legs. One of Y/n’s legs was bent at a sharp angle, clearly broken.

Bucky felt himself tear up. “Oh, Doll. I’m so sorry.” He untied her from the chair, mindful of her numerous injuries.

“S’not your fault, Sergeant Barnes,” Y/n slurred. She could feel herself getting weaker by the moment.

Bucky carefully lifted Y/n up. She let out a moan in pain. “I’m sorry. We’re gonna get you treatment, Sweetheart.” He looked over at Tony. “I don’t want to hurt her further. What’s the best way to get her back?”

Tony held out his arms. “I can fly us there. It’ll be less jostling. Let me take her to the medbay.”

Bucky carefully handed Y/n over to Tony. Y/n, moaning in pain at the movement, turned her head against Tony’s shoulder. Tony looked down at her. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m gonna be as careful as I can. Just hold on.”

Natasha rushed forward. She had a scrap of fabric and the board. “Wait! I hate to do this, but we don’t know the extent of the damage to her leg.” Natasha fashioned a splint and tied Y/n’s leg. Y/n moaned in pain, unable to scream any longer. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I know you keep hearing that, but just hold on a little longer.”

Tony took off, careful of Y/n’s leg. He had FRIDA Y alert medical to be ready for them. Y/n was rushed into surgery as soon as they landed.

The quinjet landed about 20 minutes later, Bucky running down the ramp. “Where is she?”

Tony, who had already gotten out of his suit and met them on the landing pad, gestured back behind him. “She’s in surgery. They think it’ll be awhile. She was in rough shape.”

Bucky dropped his head. He was struggling to keep it together. Steve came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Buck. Why don’t you go change out of your tac gear and we’ll wait by the medbay for updates. If it’s going to be awhile, you want to make sure the first thing Y/n sees when she wakes up is you in your uniform.”

Bucky nodded. He couldn’t form the words he wanted to say. Tony felt him struggling. “Hey, I’m not moving away from medbay until you get there. Promise.”

Bucky looked at Tony with gratitude. “I won’t be long.” He ran to his room to change as quickly as possible and get back to Y/n.

As he neared medbay, he saw Tony sitting on one of the chairs with Steve, Clint, and Natasha next to him. Steve looked up. “She’s still in surgery. No word yet. We’re just waiting. Sam and Wanda are upstairs getting changed.”

Bucky settled on the floor, next to the chairs. He stared at the doors to the medbay. Bucky hadn’t felt this helpless in a very long time. He was so scared to lose Y/n before he could really get to know her.

 After a few hours, Dr. Cho came out. She looked exhausted. “We did all we could. We almost lost her a few times because of the blood loss, but she’s a fighter. I’m going to have her in the cradle for a while for the smaller wounds. Her leg, I’m afraid, will need to heal more on its own. She has a long road to go, but she should make a full recovery.”

Everyone let out a sigh of relief. Bucky looked up at Dr. Cho. “Can we see her?”

Dr. Cho smiled at them. “I would advise one or two at a time. But she’s still under anesthesia, so it’ll take some time for her to wake up.”

Steve looked at Bucky. “Go ahead, Pal. I know you want to be there when she wakes up.”

Everyone looked at Bucky either smiling softly or nodding.

“Just make sure you let us know when she’s awake, so we can all see her,” Tony said. Y/n was his favorite person to work with and had been so scared to lose someone who got how his brain worked.

“Of course.” Bucky made his way into the room where Y/n was. When he entered the room, his heart broke at the sight before him. There were wires and sensors all over the place. Y/n looked so still. Even though he remembered what Dr. Cho said, he was scared that Dr. Cho had gotten it wrong. He moved a seat next to the bed and took her bandaged hand in his, mindful of the wires.

“Hey, Doll. I know you’re asleep, but I wanted to tell you. I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s my fault you’re in here. I know you didn’t tell them anything. I wish you had. Maybe they wouldn’t have hurt you so much.” Bucky felt tears running down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

Bucky sat there for a few hours, never moving away, never letting go of Y/n’s hand. Steve and Tony both came by to check on them. Around the fourth hour of Bucky sitting there, he felt Y/n’s hand twitch in his. Bucky sat up in the chair and looked at Y/n’s face. Her eyes, while closed, were scrunching further closed.

“Y/n?” Bucky said softly. “Hey, Doll. You’re safe.” Bucky didn’t want to speak too loudly, for fear of startling her.

Y/n’s head turned towards Bucky and her eyes fluttered open. “Sergeant Barnes?” Her voice came out croaky from dehydration. Y/n started to sit up, Bucky immediately helping her.  

Bucky looked around and saw a cup of water on the table. He reached out and grabbed it, tipping the straw towards Y/n’s mouth. After taking a few sips, Y/n sat back against the pillows that Bucky had propped behind her.

“How are you feeling? Are the pain meds working well?”

Y/n was quiet for a moment. “I think they’re working. I don’t feel much of anything,” she said as she looked down at her hands. Both hands were bandaged pretty heavily.

“Dr. Cho said you’ll make a full recovery. She put you in the cradle for a bit after the surgery to help with some of your injuries, but some just need to heal on their own.”

Y/n nodded, still quiet. “Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.”

“For what?”

“For saving me.” Y/n looked up at Bucky, tears in her eyes. “I promise I didn’t tell that man anything about you.”

Bucky was flabbergasted. “Well, you wouldn’t have been in the position if it weren’t for me, so there’s nothing to thank me for. And as for the other thing, Y/n,” Bucky said, putting a finger under her chin and lifting her gaze to his. “While I trust you didn’t tell him anything, I wish you would have. Then you wouldn’t have gotten so hurt.”

Y/n shook her head. “No. He would’ve just killed me. And it wasn’t your fault. I think I was chosen because I work here. It was probably a matter of first opportunity.”

Bucky wasn’t sure about that. “But, Y/n,” he started.

“No, Bucky! It isn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” Y/n insisted.

Y/n using his nickname got Bucky to stop. He looked at Y/n with a small smile. “You called me Bucky.”

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up and she looked away from Bucky. “Did I?”

“I really like hearing you call me Bucky.” Bucky felt his smile get wider.

Y/n looked up at him. “Well, at least it got to stop blaming yourself,” she said shyly. She looked down at her hands, getting lost in thought.

Bucky gazed at her. She’s so beautiful. He thought.

Y/n’s head whipped up. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Bucky’s eye widened comically. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes. Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did, uh, do. I think you’re beautiful and smart and probably the strongest person I know. That’s why I like you so much.”

“You like me?” Y/n asked, incredulous.

“Yeah.”

“I, I like you, too, Bucky.”

Bucky felt like he had won the lottery. “Really?” He felt as if his smile couldn’t get any wider.

“Really.” Y/n looked at Bucky with a smile, biting her lower lip. She didn’t think he was playing a joke on her like so many had before. She decided to take a risk with Bucky. He had saved her from Zemo and his words when he was getting her made her think he was sincere.

“Oh, Doll. You’ve just made me so happy. Can I hug you?” Bucky asked earnestly. But then he worried that he was moving too fast. “Unless, you don’t feel comfortable. I know with your injuries,” he trailed off.

Y/n smiled. “I would love a hug, Bucky.”

Bucky moved close to Y/n. He sat on the edge of the bed, as close as he could get. He didn’t want Y/n to have to reach far. As they were leaning in towards each other, the door flew open and hit the wall with a bang. Both Y/n and Bucky jumped.

“You were supposed to tell us when she was awake, Manchurian. We could hear you talking from down the hall.” Tony walked in with Steve and the rest of the team trailing in behind.

Steve looked between Y/n and Bucky. “Uh, Tony, I think she probably just woke up. Actually, I think we were interrupting something.”

Tony waived him off. He walked up to Y/n’s free side. “How are you feeling?”

“Not horrible, Tony.” Y/n looked at Bucky apologetically, sad that they didn’t get their hug. Bucky smiled back ruefully. There would be plenty of time later for him to hug her.

The team gave their well wishes and hung around for about an hour. Y/n started fighting yawns, not wanting to appear rude. Bucky noticed how tired she seemed and got everyone to leave, with promises to visit later. He lingered by the doorway, not sure if Y/n was interested in picking up from when they had been interrupted. Y/n noticed him, seeming unsure.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, Doll?”

Y/n felt her face heat up at what she was about to ask. She was worried that he had changed his mind. “CanIgetthathugnow?” she rushed out.

“What?” Bucky, even with his super soldier hearing, was unsure of what she said.

“Can I get that hug now?”

Bucky strode over to the bed and then gently moved closer to her. When he wrapped his arms around her frame, Y/n felt as if her heart would beat out of her chest. She wrapped one arm around him, mindful of the IV sticking out of her other hand.

Bucky moved his lips near her temple. “When you get out of here, would you be interested in a date?”

Y/n nodded. “I’d love to, Bucky.”

The next week, Bucky and Y/n had their last first date.

[red1culous]

With or Without You

A/N: This can be read as a standalone or as a continuation to Leaden Heart. Again you catch her in the periphery of your vision stealing glances at you. She was trying to gauge your reaction. And she’s been at it for at least an hour and a half. Or however long it has taken Frodo to drag that blasted ring to the edge of Mordor. You choose to ignore her remaining still like a statue, a slight furrow creasing your brow.

It was unsettling at first but you had decided that since she chose him, you would endure every second of torture with resolve and a smile (however fake) plastered on your face. You would not let her (or him) have the pleasure of knowing how much it hurt being second choice. You learnt to stay focused and get through every interaction with either of them with such normalcy people started to believe you were actually ok with the whole arrangement. In the end, you reckoned, pretending it didn’t hurt became so routine that you actually got numb to the idea of it. There were moments you actually believed you didn’t care. And then there were the other moments…

Just as your mind wanders to the homoerotic tension between Master Frodo and Sam, you feel a dip in the sofa. Instinctively you turn your face to her and she smiles to hide the grimace as she softly clutches at her ribs. “Are you ok?” you ask genuinely worried.

“Yeah it’s just…do you mind if I sit here instead? I think I need to stretch out”she says worry lacing her words.

“Of course not, I’ll take the single you can have…” you start but she cuts you off, “no please, Y/N, we can share.”

“Please?” she adds after a moment of silence.

Slowly you nod scooting to one end of the 3-seater. She tries to get comfortable stretching out her legs as much as she can without touching you and after a few minutes you offer quietly, “here, let me help” gently lifting her legs and placing them on your lap.

“This ok?” you ask fixing your eyes quickly back onto the movie again. You do what you’ve gotten very good at of late; you pretend. But you sure as hell don’t miss the way her breath hitches or how she sounds a little breathless as she replies you with a “yeah it’s perfect thank you”.

As the movie progresses you notice that she keeps shifting beside you. Crossing and uncrossing her arms, turning to face the TV screen a little more and then returning to lie flat on her back. All her movements interspersed with huffs and sighs.

“Natasha what are you doing?” you ask finally fed up with the interruptions.

“What do you mean?” she immediately stills.

“You keep shifting your position” you say pausing the movie.

“I always shift about when I’m uncomfortable.”

“Why are you uncomfortable?” you ask and she goes to answer but bites her tongue instead. You cock an eyebrow at her daring her to go on with what she wanted to say.

“Honestly I feel a little weird here” she says after taking a deep breath.

“Why do you feel weird?”

“I feel like I’m not supposed to be here” she answers a little flabbergasted.

“Natasha, you hurt yourself quite seriously not even a week ago so if you’re feeling bad that Maria has clipped your wings for awhile…” you say with a smile about to restart the movie as she interrupts you again.

“It’s not that…” she says pushing herself up so she’s resting on her elbows. “I feel that I shouldn’t be here with you. With my legs in your lap. With you being so kind to me” she rushes the last few words you almost miss them.

“What?” you ask.

“You know,” she pauses a little, “because of how it ended the last time. Because of him…and me.”

“Oh! Don’t worry about that” you say smiling and patting her legs, “we umm…we never even started so you have nothing to feel weird about here ok” you say restarting the movie.

There was relative peace until Natasha violently rises to a standing position and commands into the darkened room. “Friday! Turn on the lights and stop the movie.”

You stare at her wide eyed and groan. “We were just about to get to the part when Frodo finally rids himself off the ring!”

“What’s gotten into you?” she asks hands planted firmly on her hips. She looks like she’s about to pass out. She’s so pale and fat beads of sweat are starting to form on her forehead.

“Will you please sit down” you plead with her patting the sofa, “you’re gonna bust your stitches.”

She rolls her eyes and slowly sits back down beside you. “Here” you say taking the pillow you were hugging and placing it at her lower back and pushing gently on her shoulder so she’s resting against the back of the sofa.

“You know what’s preventing us from living in space?” you ask after several minutes of the both of you staring at Frodo’s anguish face mid scream paused on screen.

“What?” she says clearly confused.

“It’s oxygen. Or the lack of it. It’s the only substance we can’t live without. The moment you cross the edge of Earth’s atmosphere, you choke and die. Basically oxygen is holding us prisoners here on Earth. We’re stuck here.”

“Y/N I don’t see how…” she says but it’s your turn to cut her off.

“…as of today I don’t think there’s a way for us to separate oxygen from the way we breathe” you say turning towards her. “Somehow, it’s gotten so tangled up in the way we just are. And our lungs, probably the worst culprit, has been conditioned to need it. To love it. To want it more than anything else.”

“Y/N, please, I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“The thing is, Natasha” you say taking one of her hands in yours, “maybe one day they’ll actually manage to remove oxygen from the way we breathe. We’re still gonna need years, hell maybe decades to actually get used to living without it.” You pause letting go of her hand and resting yours back onto your knees. She blinks at you a few times.

“You…” you say as a sad smile tugs at the corner of your lips, “you are my oxygen. I’m bound to your gravity. So long as you remain my survival instinct I will always be earthbound. And so the only way I can deal with this is to accept the fact that I need oxygen more than oxygen needs me.”

You rise to your feet and smoothen your black shirt before turning to face her again. “I....” you say and her eyes snap to yours. “I’m fine with that” you add, “just don’t pretend you care.” And with that you turn on your heel and quickly walk away just in time for a single tear to escape your eye and roll down your cheek.

-------

Tagging: @jumbojamba47 @natasharomanoffismywife @imnotasuperhero @cybeleceto @silverwing2522 @thelastavenger-3000 @peggycarter-steverogers @rooskaya-yelena @blackwidowromonoff @lesbian-x-blackwidow @nowthisisliving27  @izalesbean @aaron-despair @marvelfansince08love @rileigh519 @dynnealberto @wannabe-fic-reader @uglipotata72829 @hcartbyheart @marvel-randomness @trikruismybitch @antiant-inferno @thewitchandtheassassin @username23345 @xixxiixx @jenny-song @rebeliz777 @summergeezburr​ 

[vidavalor]

Can we talk about how Sam is as useless at this as Bucky is, really, and it’s massively sweet?

Yeah, I’m writing about Sam because we all love us some brainwashed, century-old assassin endless array of hurt/comfort here but this idea that Sam, because he’s a therapist and not always a crying, nightmare-sweat-drenched mess, is Captain Got It All Together is not truth... because this poor broken-hearted kitten absolutely does not and it makes him so much more of a better-realized, fuller character... 

I’m not trying to wade any ship wars here or any fandom strife over the Bucky slant to fic/sometimes erasure of Sam here... I love both of these characters equally and ship them but my point here is that I think that because Bucky’s trauma is more well-documented and, for lack of a better word, “flashier”, that some people might think Sam looks perfectly well-adjusted. By comparison, he probably is but this other, quieter story happening with Sam is necessary reading here if you’ve been sleeping on the complexities of one Sam Wilson that aren’t the ones the show is focusing on more explicitly relating to his lived experience as a Black man in America. (They’re not completely separate either but not only this part of his life.) What do I mean, exactly? 

Been wondering how these two are falling in love but can mainly just get it from Bucky’s POV because Sam is awesome and Bucky is sad and need love? Not sure what Sam is getting out of his relationship with Bucky? Not totally sure you ship it but leaning that way? Yeah, pull up a seat because this thing I wrote after Ep 5 here (so spoilers through that) is basically an old-school ship manifesto at this point but comes at SamBucky/WinterFalcon from Sam’s side, rather than Bucky’s. (I have nothing *against* Bucky. I just think you’re missing half the goodness of this show and half the surprisingly tender romance of all of this if you are not focusing on Sam as much as Bucky.) If this interests you, then read on, being forewarned that it’s a little long...

So... Sam Wilson is a sweet, kind, warm-hearted, empathetic, drop-dead gorgeous superhero soldier flying military veteran therapist... whom the canon suggests is Bucky Barnes-level obsessed with his dead former partner (in some sense of the word), Riley. You thought it was just Bucky with the angsty past love? Oh no... oh, no no no....

Consider that Sam’s been back in Delacroix twice now in TFATWS and not once has his sister-- who adores him and who knows everyone in town-- suggested that she call up any one of the at least ten decent single people she has to know who live in the area to take her f*cking *dreamboat* of a brother out. Forget the show putting Sam in like twelve pieces of canon and not throwing a single human (not named Bucky) at him and what that implies-- we all know that Sarah wouldn’t care what kind of human her brother was attracted to and yet she and the entire community of Delacroix can’t seem to find this guy a date. He’s sweet and hot and an Avenger but our Sam’s a monk, you guys... More to the point... they don’t even try. They know better than to try anymore... which says a lot.

Going back awhile now, when Sam met Steve, he was still this equally dreamy and he didn’t even have any Avengers-related problems getting in the way of his potential dating life. He had a normal job working for the VA in DC. Yet, he clearly was seeing exactly no one and while I am willing to admit that pretty much any human would drop everything and follow Steve Rogers around the world, it’s clear that Sam wasn’t seeing anyone at the time because his life was able to be dropped in a second and he also had that file with Riley’s photo at the ready, man. At. the. ready... 

He responded to the opportunity to follow Steve with no less need when it came to his own post-trauma-of-war identity as Bucky does. This isn’t to say that Sam is *as* lost as Bucky because it would be hard to out-do the once-brainwashed assassin who has been alive for a hundred years but Sam saw all sorts of hell. He’s a therapist for veterans because he’s had to get beyond *his own* PTSD and he’s really aware of how that is a journey that doesn’t exactly ever end. It gets significantly better and he knows how well it can-- that’s why he can tell Bucky that there is hope of that-- but it is very clear that Sam Wilson is still suffering his own kind of PTSD and his own grief for the death of a guy who likely couldn’t love him the way he needed him to. 

I know we don’t know a ton about exactly what Sam and Riley were but I think there is enough to infer that they probably actually weren’t a couple. For one thing, Sarah never mentions him and even if the show wanted to be vague about things, they could phrase it like “it’s been forever since you brought back someone to the house, haven’t met any of them since Riley” or something. There are ways to infer that they were a thing and the nature of it, if the show wanted to do that but all they have suggested so far is that Sam was in love with Riley. We know he and Riley were friends and worked on the Falcon suit project together but what we are getting out of what they are giving to us is that Sam loved him but it’s not clear that they were even a couple. I’d even say the picture of them that he shows Steve and Natasha is supposed to evoke that they weren’t a couple-- it’s of Sam looking at Riley, smiling like he’s the moon and the stars, while Riley is smiling but just a bit and he’s looking at the camera, not at Sam. 

In other words, remember Miller’s analogies from school? Sam is to Riley as Bucky is to Steve. I just offended every person reading this who thinks that Steve and Bucky weren’t an unrequited thing *ducks* but I feel like we’re supposed to take from what they give us that Sam knows a little something about being mad for a guy who thinks you are his best buddy but doesn’t look at you in a romantic or sexual way and you feel like you’re dying over it. Sam gets Bucky because Sam *is* Bucky when it comes to this. 

If Sam and Riley were just the best of friends, Sam still would have mourned him greatly but it would not necessarily have impacted his love life the way it seems like it might have. I’m not necessarily saying there was no one but this is a man who even when it felt like Steve Rogers-- whom Sam obviously found attractive-- seemed like he was making Sam question whether or not he was coming onto him or just super-nice and making a new fellow veteran friend... even when that was happening, Sam’s response was that he didn’t hate it or anything and he was willing to help Steve with what he needed in this friendly, advice-giving sort of way and maybe they had a thing, who knows, but it was clear that Sam-- a guy who has to be hit on *all the time*-- wasn’t really used to the idea of there being someone in his life. So, he wasn’t letting anyone into his life. He would have had the chance, no doubt. He was choosing not to. Why would you choose not to? If you were grieving the loss of a man you couldn’t get over and you thought that you weren’t ever going to love anyone like that and maybe having someone wasn’t going to happen for you.

Like, imagine Sam’s surprise when The Winter Soldier turns up, nearly kills them all, disappears and they go on the run and he starts hearing Steve’s confessional stories about the guy who was his best friend and in love with him and Steve has literally never said those words aloud because they’re from the *1940s* and he’s felt guilty all this time for hurting him. Steve’s the kind of guy who would feel guilty for not being in love with someone who was in love with him. That’s when Sam, who thought he had more in common with Steve, realizes he’s actually *Bucky Barnes* in this story. He’s the damn Winter Soldier in the Steve-and-Bucky version of him and Riley. 

That is how Bucky evolves from “the kind of guy you have to stop” in Sam’s mind to the guy he’s hanging out with in every fight and snarking over the car seats with. He’s like yeesh, I thought I had a few years of this ungodly pain and that was bad... this poor bastard’s been in love with a Riley who could and probably will live until he’s a hundred and thirty. Sam starts getting into this whole antagonist origin story of The Winter Soldier here because he realizes that one wrong move-- one case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time-- and he could have been captured during the war he was in. He could have been tortured like that, so easily, and he knows what it’s like to be tortured by love in that way. 

Bucky, for his part, when he begins to get his mind back and more fully remember Steve and his past, takes one look at Sam and is thinking like... that poor SOB... oh, look, it’s 21st Century Me. So, you fell for Steve Rogers, huh? Welcome to the club. We meet every Tuesday at two to discuss being the pining best friend in love with a guy who, in all likelihood, is attracted to both of us but unless Tony Stark can shake loose a bit of the freak in The Star-Spangled Man With a Plan, we’re not getting anything but a most earnest and sincere friendship out of this (and if Stark can’t, no one can....)

Like, Bucky’s Steve love is pretty pure. He wants him to be happy. He’s hurt that Steve doesn’t love him the way he loves Steve but he does love him as his best friend as well and wants him to have what he wants out of life. If that’s going back in time to Peggy Carter (who wouldn’t, really?) and leaving him behind then, fine. He wishes he were still here but he’ll deal but he’s going to be keeping an eye out for the other guy left behind-- Steve’s new modern era best friend person. Bucky’s so gone over keeping Steve safe that he can’t even resent Sam’s presence-- he’s thrilled he exists. Someone good to look after Steve when Bucky couldn’t! Sam Wilson is heaven sent and must be protected at all costs! So frequently from some kid with webbed fingers, apparently! 

Sam, meanwhile, is challenged by the dilemma that Bucky appears to think that they’re in the same boat while Sam, who for sure had a little crush on Steve as who doesn’t, has really come to realize that he is far, far more into the tragic one here. He’s so irritated about it. It would be simpler if he just fell for another blond soldier with red, white and blue blood who couldn’t love him. At least he’d just be completely hopeless then but the brainwashed one? The one that thinks he’s horrid but is so good that he can’t even bring himself to be that jealous of Sam when he clearly thinks Sam is sleeping with the guy he’s loved for years? 

Oh, Sam’s gone on that one... 

Bucky’s still a mess then so it’s harmless enough to just pretend he’s not writing himself into touch-starved Bucky fanfic in his own mind here but when Bucky keeps saving him in different fights? When he catches him looking once or twice. When the bickering is really flirting and Sam knows he means it that way, too? When the poor guy just gets his mind back, they all reunite and go to one battle and then the two of them disappear and miss *five years* of their lives? When then, soon after, Steve is gone, too? 

When it begins to feel like *they* are now the story and meant to go through the rest of these things together? I mean, when everyone else is all on about the fate and destiny of it all-- Stark’s big sacrifice being the one way to save everyone, Doctor Strange going on about all the possibilities of the universe on a saving the world level but it so personal to the people Sam and Bucky know, Steve choosing to go back in time because he can and be with the woman he loved and never got to have... 

...standing there in the funerals and aftermaths of all of this together, by virtue of being Steve’s Friends Who Aren’t Really Part of This Gang Exactly... are Sam and Bucky. What are the odds that they are supposed to be the rest of one another’s story? Sam was wondering it. He for sure hadn’t felt like this since Riley... he might not have really ever felt it at all before. 

Can we just admit that while there’s been some guys in the past-- and it could be rephrased as ‘some people’, as while Sam is written to suggest he’s at least into men, he could be into people who don’t identify as men as well-- but there’s not been someone who has been able to love him the way he’s loved them. 

He’s from the South and Black and the show taps into the racism he’s been through as a result. Not obviously in Delacroix, where he feels safe and seen, where people care about him and don’t care that he is not straight, but in other parts. He’s been in the military, where homophobia is still pretty rampant and it’s a culture of a lot of heterosexual machismo. (Hell, the show even has a kind of walking, talking example of a guy everyone knows was the epitome of that kind of culture, even if he’s been broken by that world, too-- John Walker.) It’s not even really clear if Sam is out and, if he is, to whom. He seems to be the kind of person to want to be himself as much as possible and Sarah likely knows because they are close but I’m not so sure that a lot of Sam’s military buddies actually did. He really strikes me as the guy who gets along with everybody and whom everybody loves-- but whom few people actually *know* because he keeps himself (all of himself, not just his sexuality) private from others...

...which is also a hell of a lot like one Bucky Barnes. 

Guaranteed they became such fast friends not just from being sort of left with one another in the aftermath of Steve and their attraction but because Sam was amazed to find that Bucky was actually pretty funny and Sam just kept talking to him because while he has-- or had, anyways, before he ran off with Steve-- a ton of people he’d consider friends, he doesn’t really have anyone he’d consider to be a close friend and hasn’t since Riley. Bucky, just still stunned to be free of mind control and that there was another human being talking to him instead of looking at him as a weapon to program to kill, was eager to listen to and absolutely thrilled when he could find something sarcastic to say to make Sam laugh that surprised laugh and light up. 

These two damaged couple of guys spent most of this show and the months before it just terrified by how much love they were feeling for one another and were very happy to let any conflict they could get in the way of it-- any excuse to claim they weren’t feeling totally seen and run for the hills back into their own trauma.

It’s not just Bucky doing this. He might have been the one not returning the texts at the start, the one who seemed to be withdrawing more, while Sam was texting him still to check in on him but how quickly that began to flip around by Episode 5. 

Suddenly, the brave one is Bucky. It was Sam for the first few episodes-- he was stil trying and so hard, despite not getting what he needed in return and Bucky still sending signals that he wanted him but was happy to still revel in being too damaged and scared to try harder. By Episode 5, though? Bucky’s not only learned to trust himself again, it is proven to be what he was afraid of: not being able to protect and love Sam the way he wanted to and that Sam would leave him. Triggered by the shield as a metaphor for not caring about Bucky, not having a reason to still pursue him, Bucky thought he had successfully pushed Sam away and that Sam would really stop texting because to not do so would be to admit to one another that they wanted to be around one another and this wasn’t just about Steve/Captain America. By Episode 5, Bucky shows up in Delacroix not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but with eyes only for Sam and is every one of Sam’s favorite Bucky Barnes fantasies come to life. 

It’s now Sam flipping out. Would you have expected the Sam of the first two episodes to be a babbling mess in the face of a flirty Bucky stretching and claiming it’s time for him to go get a hotel room? To try to be playing it cool but winding up asking him to stay forever and telling him he likes his tight t-shirts in the middle there? To get so nervous that he suddenly is babbling about six toes and flirting with Sarah, showing how jealous he was of Bucky just... smiling and being this guy Steve had said was under there but that Sam had only had small glimpses of so far? If he was gone for the broken Winter Soldier... he’s wrecked by a single smile from this Bucky. 

This is the same guy who spent the first few episodes confident to a point of near-cockiness, loving flirting with and teasing Bucky, the one that seemed more well-adjusted and in control of himself. Overall, he is but there’s something there when Bucky shows up and White Wolfs Sam into a sputtering mess who is sending him little glances, as if they’ve switched bodies from the first few episodes. It shows *just how much* Sam is comfortable with Bucky and how rare it is for him because he would react differently to Bucky’s more overt flirting of Episode 5 if how he is with Bucky was his default in life. Instead, we see that some of it is posturing-- it’s the Sam equivalent of lifting heavy things and using power tools. His is the humor (what’s a better aphrodisiac than making the Winter Soldier laugh or flirt back or blush?) and the bicker-caring. We even see where it comes from, in a way. Sam is a soldier-- he knows how to help other traumatized soldiers and when we saw him in his VA group session when we met him, we saw him using that kind of machismo world and its language to communicate with the soldiers in the group. The difference for him with them versus him with Bucky is that he’s also flirting with Bucky. The buddy cop thing is intentional-- it’s Sam’s strategy, it’s been Bucky’s choice to respond to it and they’re playacting it as how they talk because it’s been easier than admitting that they are completely gone on another and just want all the soft things. 

Up until recently anyway and now Sam’s reeling from a man he’s fallen in love with showing up and loving him back. Don’t think for a second that Bucky doesn’t know enough by now to know that it’d totally undo Sam but the surprise of it to the audience only really exists if you don’t think Sam and Bucky have anything in common besides their now-gone mutual friend. In reality, they’re endgame. 

[scorpio-karma]

I seen people hate on season 6 Tyler because he got Damon and Elena out of the prison world when they were rescuing Bonnie however I honestly think Tyler was more smarter than Damon and Elena Kai was about to kill Liv And he drained most of her magic and if she dies Damon and Elena are stuck forever and if they hid the ascendant they could have tried again in the next few days also what were elena and Damon doing at the prison world anyway talking about their relationship , sitting in Elena's house they never tried to meet bonnie halfway

Honestly I would have loved to see an episode where liv sends Tyler to save bonnie because Damon And Elena were useless and then once bonnie meets Damon she beats the shit out of him and once kai tries to kill them or something Bonnie leaves Damon alone and kai tortures him and elena for quite awhile

ahh the perfect tvd episode

For me personally I don't like Tyler in that episode, not really because of his actions but because of his complete disregard for Bonnie. She did all the hard work literally to get him back and Liv got all the credit for saving him???? And then there's Liv herself who i have issues with in general but the fact that she has to be reminded what Bonnie did for her to even be motivated to help irks me a lot.

As for actions, Tyler was the most logical but for me again where I'm most fed up with him is that there is no attempt to find another way to get Bonnie back. He seems completely content with the idea of letting Bonnie rot on the Prison world.

As for least productive that goes to Damon and Elena who just sat around when they could have been meeting her halfway. I personally blame Elena more there simply because her presence was unnecessary. This was around where I was really realizing how useless of a character she was because they were just tacking her on to storylines because she was the main character and not because she actually belonged there. I feel the same about the episode where Kai kidnapped her and when they go to the 1903 PW. Things just run much more smoothly when she's not around and that's because she only functions to hinder the plot. There's much more interesting storylines around her but you're stuck with Elena through most of it and miss some great opportunities, which is why I wasn't bothered at all with Nina leaving. Elena had no place on the show by then and I wish they realized that and had just killed her off because she became the most annoying part of season 7 and 8!

Anyway, in another universe, where the writers aren't racist and both Tyler and Liv realized who they owe their lives to that plotline would have been perfect. However I think it would be more in character for her to be happy to see Damon a)because I actually liked Bamom that season (just liked bonkai more) and b) as shown by her abandonment issues it's very consistent for her to attach to anybody she's been with for an extended time. The thing to break that to me is the same thing that broke her trust in him the first time and that was bringing Kai to her, completely disregarding her own trauma in favor of his own personal agenda which makes for a powerful scene I wish she had more of.

I'd be more inclined to replace the episode where Kai kidnapped Elena with one where he kidnaps Bonnie, obviously less torture, but they do have a moment about what to do when you have that much power in you, and he calls her plucky again because she escapes death so often. I'd like to start their journey into twisted romance there where she goes full Stockholm syndrome (but the real version) where she realizes she more safe with him her captor, than the MFG her rescuers. I don't exactly know where I'd go from there but I do knowni would like Bonnie and Tyler to be closer friends during that time. (I am a tonnie shipper but I love to brotp them in bk fics) Like he's the one to tell what a dangerous line she's toeing with but she lashes out at him with some facts about his neglect of her. I always have the HC that Tyler and Bonnie were each other's first times, so I would like to bring up the fact that he'll only be with a witch of she is white (a plec symptom). Obviously not true, but a good place for introspection on Tyler's part which has always been his greatest strength as a character. He knows how to look at his flaws and actually put in the work to change them and I think probing a symptom of living in the south, and on a former plantation at that would be best left with him. Instead of a whole host of excuses like "that's just how I was raised" and "that was the time back then" he would actually active try to change things. Maybe get his direction back and continue the Lockwood legacy as mayor but with the same conviction of not being like his father.

Anyway that was a weird tangent, NY conclusion is essentially that had Bonnie gotten back sooner when she was supposed to season 6 wouldn't have sucked toward the end and the needless torture of a black woman should have stopped not just due to the fact that it's racist, but it also improves the story. I swear, she hindered so much of that show just to be racist towards Bonnie and Tyler and apparently has the nerve to talk about the flaws in their storylines as though she didn't write it???? Bitch, get out of here with that nonsense, or better yet get fired because you clearly shouldn't be anywhere near a writers room.

[ransomedrogue]

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

hi, it’s fic time again... 1.5 this time, swoon, what an episode! I don’t usually fic complete existing scenes but it felt right for this one.

1.5

Since Jane's arrival in his life, Kurt Weller had experienced emotional extremes he'd forgotten were possible; not to mention some of the most intense moments of his FBI career. Yet he still would never have guessed that he'd end up pointing his weapon at the deputy director of the CIA, waiting to see if his entire team was going to die in an inter-agency shootout.

Weller stood there, aiming his gun at Tom Carter, his finger twitching a bit as he remembered the CIA agent's interest in Jane earlier that day. His heart started pounding once more, just as it had finally settled down from the chase for Dodi – plus seeing Jane almost get shot in the head while she clung to a radioactive device.

And then, it felt like his head was about to explode too; with the same intensity and fallout that had just been narrowly avoided when Jane caught the deadly football. Because, just then, Carter began bargaining for Jane again. Asking to borrow her, as if the CIA would just "question" her and give her back once their interview was over. Thankfully, though, Mayfair's initial response was clear and immediate.

"Go to hell," she fired at Carter's smug face.

"Do you really want to start a war with us now?" Carter threatened.

Weller watched as his boss reconsidered her options, his pulse hammering as he waited for someone to fire the first shot. He wasn't entirely sure why Mayfair had come to the scene but he was very glad she had, even if she wasn't defending Jane as fervently as he'd like. Because, despite the rage pulsating through him, Kurt was still able to recognize that shooting the Deputy Director of the CIA would have some dire consequences for everyone involved, especially the rest of his team. So, it was a good thing he wasn't in charge right then; not when murder was so close to his mind.

Yet, if Mayfair went through with the deal, things were going to get ugly.

He didn't know what he would do if she tried to hand Jane over to Tom Carter but he was certain it would end a relationship he held close to his heart. Mayfair wasn't just his boss - she was his mentor and confidant. But he couldn't think of anything that would convince him to let the CIA take Jane, even for a minute.

The standoff seemed to last ages, though it didn't actually take Mayfair long to come to a decision. Weller's jaw clenched as she told him to give Dodi to the CIA and he voiced his displeasure, even though he recognized it was the only choice that protected Jane and avoided a shootout. His team had done all the work in recapturing Dodi, risking their own lives. So of course it pissed him off to hand him over to an agency that shouldn't even be operating domestically.

Yet the fact remained that they were outnumbered and short on options. They had to give on something so Weller did as he was told; feeling disgusted as he let the CIA goons take the prisoner. But at least he wasn't homicidal, as he would have been if Mayfair had tired to let them have Jane.

Still, Weller seethed at letting Tom Carter have any power on US soil. Instead of letting the wheels of justice run its course, Dodi would end up in another black site, getting tortured into making false confessions. Then dumped in a nameless grave once he'd given up all the information they could extract.

Weller glared at the CIA team as they walked away, his heart rate finally starting to settle again. It was a strange thing, coming down from the physical high of being primed for death. He felt tight and loose at the same time; extremely relieved that Jane was safe, yet still furious at what had just occurred.

As they began to walk away from the scene Weller sidled up beside Jane and glanced his hand against her shoulder as they headed for the SUV. He noted that she was wire tight, which wasn't exactly surprising. She'd nearly been the spark to light a volatile situation and none of it was her fault.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, reluctantly letting his hand slide back down beside him as they separated from the rest of the team.

Jane flashed him a look that irradiated fire and fear. Yet she stayed silent for awhile longer, as her eyes returned to her feet.

She didn't answer for so long that Weller wondered if she'd chosen to ignore his question. But then he glanced over and got the sense that Jane was still processing how to reply. So they just walked quietly until, eventually, she exhaled audibly and looked up at him.

"Yeah," she finally said. "I was scared for a moment though."

Me too, Weller thought, before clamping down hard on that admission.

"Mayfair wouldn't do that," he replied gruffly.

"Anyways, I would never let her trade you to Carter."

Jane scoffed, but then softened her expression as she looked him in the eye.

"She's the boss, Weller. What were you going to do?"

Something drastic, he mused, frowning at the mere thought of it.

"I would have thought of something," he grumbled.

"I'm not going to let anyone take you again."

He knew he shouldn't put so much pressure on her, all his guilt about what happened. Yet it was also the absolute truth, something he would swear to.

Jane was giving him that look that killed him every time. Part beseeching and part gratitude, but still firmly backed with fierce determination.

"I know you won't," she said. "I trust you."

It was everything he needed to hear and nearly more than he could bear, so Weller chewed back his emotion and fought the urge to reach out and grab onto her. Balling up his hands into fists to resist the temptation, all he could do was stare at her in awe.

She trusted him to keep her safe and that was what he was going to do, no matter what it took. He was not going to have regrets this time around.

###

Weller insisted on driving her home, as if he were reluctant to let her out of his sight. But somehow his attentiveness didn't feel like pressure anymore, even though he was still looking at her the same way.

Warmth flared up Jane's spine as he led her from the office to the SUV, his hand hovering behind her back possessively. After everything that had happened that day, it felt good knowing she had someone she could rely on. Because there was something about Tom Carter that scared her, more than just his desire to interrogate her. And Mayfair hadn't exactly been reassuring when Jane thanked her for not trading her to the CIA.

The ride to the safe house was quiet, yet the air between them still felt charged. Jane thought back to dinner the previous night, how she'd panicked and run away. At the time, it had been overwhelming to realize how much she meant to him. As if his happiness rested on her being Taylor. But she was coming to understand that he meant just as much to her – that he was her anchor in a storm-filled life.

As Weller pulled up in front of her safe house, Jane was surprised that he parked the SUV while she was unbuckling herself. She was about to remind him that her detail was right in front of them and would sweep her place before she entered but stopped short when she saw the intensity of his blue eyes.

"I know you don't need me to," Weller said. "But I'm going to see you in."

Jane wondered what was spurring on his bout of protectiveness and suddenly recalled the memory that had been pulling at her the entire day. Being led down the stairs into a dingy basement full of frightened kids. The realization that bad things had happened to her there, an understanding she felt in the pit of her stomach.

The memory wasn't as vivid when she brought it back purposely, but Jane still flashed back to how hard it had hit her in the lab, how fast her heart had been beating when Kurt came out to steady her.

For a brief moment the panic threatened to return, as her brain cascaded through the day's events. She'd likely been abused as a child, experienced some horrible things. And she'd almost been traded to the CIA for a terrorist, to be tortured for information she didn't have.

As her heart rate rose, Jane found herself looking over at Weller's concerned expression and her nervous system immediately began to settle again, just from knowing he was there with her. So she didn't really argue about his decision to show her in, despite how unnecessary it was.

Weller waited for her detail to clear the place and then walked her inside, which made warmth flare all the way up her spine. Especially when she tried to deflect his concern by reminding him that it wasn't necessary and he stammered out an adorable reply.

"It's more for me than you. I just wanna check out the new place make sure it's okay.".

Weller paused slightly, as if he might stop there. But then the next words spilled out too, a little rushed and unsure.

"Make sure you're okay."

His sudden protectiveness was endearing but again Jane wondered what had brought it on so strongly. Maybe he hadn't been all that confident in Mayfair himself and had thought the boss might actually ship her off with Carter. Or maybe he was just asking because she'd nearly had an emotional breakdown earlier that day and had almost gone back to the same place in the SUV.

"I'm fine, I-I- was just a little…" she stammered, not quite finding the words to describe what had happened. Yet Jane was determined not to fall apart on him again -really didn't want him to worry about her.

"I'll be fine."

Weller nodded seriously, like he was still concerned.

"I'm sorry I lost it today," she added.

"It's okay, it happens," he replied kindly, like he really wasn't judging her for having a freak out on the job.

Weller started to head for the door then and Jane wondered if that was really all that he was going to say. Now that he was there, she didn't want him to leave. So when he turned back, her heart began to thump, even before his words started spilling out.

"You've been through so much," he said, his voice crackling with sadness. "And if I'm making this harder for you then just tell me. Cause that's the last thing that I want."

He paused, as if searching for words through a sea of emotion.

"All these expectations, I should never have put you in that situation."

Jane's chest was tight and everything felt constricted. But this time it wasn't an overwhelming pressure, like at dinner the night before. She wasn't worried about who she was and what she meant to him. Instead, her heart was seized by the hurt she could see in him.

Jane shook her head, trying to make him understand that wasn't what she meant, that she didn't blame him for the way he looked at her. She just didn't know what to do with all the emotions it brought out in her.

"Kurt," she interjected.

But Weller didn't stop, and Jane could see a lifetime of regret pouring through his expression as he struggled his way through an absolutely heart-breaking apology.

"I should never have let them take you. I'm … I'm sorry."

He had tears in his eyes and, for the first time she clearly saw the boy inside of her gruff FBI agent; the child full of self-blame who'd become this man that had never stopped searching. She'd glimpsed him before, but Weller had always thrown up his walls as soon as the hurt emerged. Now, though, it was all pouring out and she didn't know how to stop the pain flowing through him. Because it was clear that all of his guilt hadn't just dissipated when they got the DNA results.

"It wasn't your fault," Jane stated, as sure as she could be about anything. He'd been a child and she was certain little Kurt Weller would have been as diligent a babysitter as a ten-year-old could be.

"I've heard that, my whole life," Kurt replied, in a tone that told her he'd never once believed it.

"But you haven't heard it from me," she said, instinctively edging closer.

"You told me that Taylor was my starting point. I think you're wrong."

She hadn't intended for things to go in that direction but Weller was struggling in front of her and she had nothing but the truth to offer him. Jane reached out for his hand and placed it over her heart, the same way he'd steadied her earlier when she'd nearly lost it. He just looked stunned, his eyes searching for her in desperation.

Jane remembered how it had felt, sinking into the dark and then being thrown a lifeline. A physical connection with another person, someone she could hold onto.

"You. You're my starting point," she declared, knowing right then that she'd stated a fundamental fact. Taylor Shaw was just a name that her five-year-old self once had. Weller was where her connection to this world began, both now and then.

Having Kurt's hand on her chest and feeling his trauma surging through his skin was just as intense as pressing up against his heartbeat earlier that day. She could tell that he was barely keeping himself together and got a peek at his walls crumbling to the ground before Weller choked out a goodbye and ran out the door.

Jane stood there and watched him leave, her body still tense with emotion.

She wondered if she'd said too much; she still felt so new at everything. But then again, it had been the truth, the one thing she had to hang onto.

Just that morning, she'd told him that she didn't know how to be his lost girl; that the way he looked at her held too much expectation. But Jane was coming to realize that was how she looked at him too.

Somewhere along the way he'd also become everything to her.

[luminouspoes]

Hi Tegan! First of all, I love your blogs, they're my ultimate source of happiness these days, so thank you for that 💕. I live for your Poe and Leia posts, and I was wondering if you'd ever write something where this is a big deal for Poe and reader's relationship. Not in a bad way, but I feel like if the reader is part of the resistance and is not very close to her as Rey (for example), they'd be kinda worried about being on Leia's good side. Not that they need a blessing or anything, but she's important for Poe and I feel like it would be important for his s/o too. What do you think about that? – 🌑

Nonnie, I’m so glad my blogs bring you some happiness, it makes me overjoyed to hear that. And I loved this prompt so much I went ahead and turned it into a drabble!

warnings: some references to torture, and poe isn’t actually in this fic but we love him anyway, no pronouns used

“You seem...stressed.” Rose hedges as another spare part from your speeder goes flying over your shoulder, thrown in a fit of frustration. Around your feet is a circle of parts that have suffered similar fates.

“You think?” You grumble, tightening your grip on your spanner as you work on tightening a very uncooperative screw. You’ve unzipped the top half of your work suit and rolled up the sleeves of your white shirt underneath to your elbows, and an earpiece hangs from one of your lobes, blasting one of your favorite songs lightly while you work. 

Your spanner slips from around the screw again and in the process, you bust your thumb. “Dank ferrik,” you swear, shaking your hand like that’ll ease the sting, before bringing your thumb to your mouth. 

“Why don’t I try?” Rose offers in that gentle yet firm tone she’s mastered that informs you that while she’s phrased it like a suggestion, it’s an order. You take a deep breath and move out of the way, passing her the spanner as she steps underneath the elevated speeder. “What’s bothering you? I haven’t seen you like this in awhile. Is everything good with you and Poe?”

You drop onto the nearest crate, suddenly aware of how badly your body aches. Your shoulders hurt and your lower back is killing you. “Everything’s great between us,” you answer honestly, a smile tugging on your lips. “Really great.”

Rose emerges from under the speeder, wiping grease off her hands. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming.”

“Don’t tell me you already got that screw back in.”

Rose’s smile is nearly apologetic. Well, Leia made her head of the tech division for a reason. She comes over and sits down next to you, “So what is it?”

“I’m worried that I’m not close enough to the General,” you admit lowly, cheeks warming up in embarrassment. “I know she likes me, I think she likes just about everyone on the base, but she’s - she’s everything to Poe, and I don’t know...I feel like somehow I’m not doing enough because she seems so much closer to other people.” 

Rose mulls over your confession. “I don’t think you aren’t doing enough, I just think the two of you haven’t yet got the chance to really bond yet, but you will. I know you will, and she’ll love you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Poe loves you, that’ll be enough for the General,” Rose tells you with a grin that you quickly find yourself mirroring. 

*

The next morning when you wake up in Poe’s quarters, it’s not in the warm arms of your favorite flyboy, but twisted up in the blankets of the depressingly empty cot. It takes your brain a second to realize that it shouldn’t be empty, but as soon as it does, you’re bolting upright - which is a bad idea, because of how badly you’d gotten tangled up in the sheets. 

You teeter off the mattress and crash into the floor. It takes a few minutes, but you finally wrench your legs free of the fabric, standing up. Poe and Finn should have been en-route home from their supply mission last night, you should have woken up to Poe’s soft curls next to the pillow beside you.

But you hadn’t.

You look around and notice the blinking message light on Poe’s console. It was from command, from Leia, requesting your presence in her office immediately. You don’t even stop to run through the fresher, you don’t even think to get changed out of your night clothes, you just grab one of Poe’s discarded leather jackets and toss it over your shoulders and bolt to her office as soon as you can.

You try not to sound too impatient with the knock you rap against her door, but you think you probably fail in that regard. Your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since reading that message, and your gut is clenched painfully with fear - why had she requested your presence? Where was Poe and Finn and BB-8?

The door opens with a shick a second later and you enter, finding Leia standing alone over a holotable. Her face is shrouded in the pale blue light, her hands braced against the edge of the table. Her cane, which she’s been using more frequently since Crait, is in close reach beside her.

“You wanted to see me, General?” Somehow your voice comes out stronger, clearer than you expected it to. 

Leia looks up and at first glance, it seems as though she’s angry, but then you notice her eyes, the way they’re soft around the corners, the sadness and sparkling fear in them. You’d seen that look once before, when Poe had continued his assault on the Fulminatrix, against her orders.

So, not good.

She appraises your appearance for a beat, almost looking apologetic - for worrying you with her urgent message, though you don’t know that - but the moment swiftly passes, and she’s moving around the table to greet you with a gentle but grave expression, “We received word from Poe and Finn earlier this morning; their mission to Tevel didn’t go according to plan.”

You swallow, trying to focus on the start of her sentence - they had heard from Finn and Poe, this morning. They were alive as of this morning. That was good - and ask, “Were they not able to retrieve the bacta?”

“They were, but they ran into some trouble with the First Order. They’re both alive, but Poe…” Leia’s eyes darken as she grasps your hands with her own. You stare blankly at them, at her weathered ivory skin over your own hands. “Poe was briefly held captive.”

You snap your head back up, “Is he -”

“All Poe would tell me is that they interrogated him,” Leia answers calmly, but you don’t have to be Force Sensitive to sense the worry that’s afflicting her. 

“Again,” you breathe in horror, feeling tears pinprick at the corners of your eyes. He still woke up in the middle of the night from his time on the Finalizer, it killed you to think he’d had to go through anything like that again. There was already so much weighing him down.

Leia, if anything, looks even more pained by your whisper and you remember the rumors of just who Kylo Ren is...your heart squeezes with sympathy, and you mirror it with your hands, hoping to somehow silently reassure her. Then, a new thought forces you to refocus on the situation at hand, “What’s their ETA?”

“They don’t have one,” Leia admits, dropping your hand to move back to the holotable. Her hand grips the handle of her cane and she rests her weight against it as you sidle up beside her, looking over the map she has pulled up. Now that you’re paying closer attention, you can see a small orange dot in an unfamiliar system to you. “Their shuttle crashed on their way back to Ajan Kloss.”

You inhale through your teeth, cheeks puffing out. “I thought Maz’s ship was reliable?”

“They had to abandon it and steal a medical shuttle from the First Order,” Leia says dryly, a note of fondness in her voice that’s mirrored in the small smile that tugs on your lips: of course they’d steal a ship from the First Order.

“What are we going to do? Can we send a team out to rescue them?” 

Leia turns to you and you’re taken aback by the pride in her eyes, “That’s why I contacted you. I’d like you to take a ship to recover Dameron and Finn.” 

You blink and take an actual step back in surprise, hand sliding across the edge of the table. “Me?”

“You’re one of our best pilots and I can’t think of anyone aside from myself that would go above and beyond to ensure they make it home.” Her words are soft and earnest, and you find yourself spinning as she pats you on the shoulder, “Especially Dameron.”

It takes you a minute to understand her meaning, still reeling from the compliment she’d given you, and you’re reminded of Rose’s words the day before. Maybe it wasn’t just enough that Poe loved you, maybe it was enough that you and Leia both loved him. That was what connects you now, and it would be what brings you closer later.

You find yourself giving her a grim smile of utter determination, “When do I leave?”

[blackmissfrizzle]

Belle of the Ball

Characters: Klaus Mikaelson x black!reader

Summary: Klaus goes dress shopping with the reader.

Warnings: Mentions of a blood (it’s a vampire fic lol), smut, fluff, and maybe a little angst.

“Uncle Marcel?!” You called out into the humongous house.

“Where are you? We’re gonna be late!”

You wandered around the compound some more until you felt someone tug on your arm and pulled you into the hallway.

“Quiet, little one.” Klaus covered your mouth to suppress your shriek. He felt your smile against his hand as you registered it was him.

Taking his hand away from your mouth, he replaced it with his lips. It started innocent enough until you hunger for more.  Licking the seam of his lips, you pushed your tongue into his mouth, dominating the kiss for a bit until Klaus decided he had enough and took charge.

Just as his tongue roamed your mouth, tugging and pulling, his hands did the same thing with your body.

Suddenly you remembered that you were supposed be meeting up with your uncle and not making out with the original. Reluctantly you stopped the kiss but made no effort to move away from him.

“Klaus, we can’t be doing this here.”

“Or what, my love?” Klaus asked, kissing along the column of your neck.

“Or Marcel is gonna try to kill you for real this time.” You pushed against his shoulders and dipped under his arm.

You’ve been secretly dating Klaus for about six months thanks to Marcel. He didn’t want you mixed up with the supernatural beings of New Orleans, especially Klaus. You guessed it had something to do with you being his only living blood relative.

It was a year ago when Marcel found you. You had just moved to New Orleans for law school and decided to tour the city. When Marcel saw you in Rossesau’s he didn’t know if he should’ve hugged you or attack you. You looked exactly like his little sister.

Even though Klaus took Marcel in, Marcel kept up with his family until he couldn’t. That’s why he didn’t know his baby sister had a baby, continuing his bloodline, which eventually led to you.

“Pay him no mind, little one. He’s just getting his ounce of payback for me keeping him away from Rebekah.” Klaus cupped your face and began kissing you again.

No matter how bad you wanted his kisses to continue, you backed away. You really didn’t want to get in between a fighting Marcel and Klaus again.

Thankfully, it was the right move. Marcel was making his ways downstairs with a blissful Rebekah trailing behind. “I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.”

“The only way I’m taking your money is if you go shopping with me.”

Your sorority was throwing their annual big charity event and this time they wanted to have a fancy ball. Now you had to find an acceptable dress and date for the event.

“How noble.” Rebekah commented from behind Marcel.

Rebekah did not care for you too much. First, it was Klaus that kept Marcel from her. Then, it was New Orleans, and now it was you. She felt as if she would never get to be the center of Marcel’s attention.

“Do you have a date yet?” Marcel asked, pretending not to hear Rebekah’s snide remark.

Klaus’ head perked up. This was the first time he heard of you taking a date to the charity ball.

Quickly, your eyes shifted from Marcel to Klaus. His face appeared nonchalant, but you could sense he was seething under his calm façade. Purposely, you left out that tidbit to Klaus, because you didn’t want him to murder the poor guy. “I asked a guy from my study group and he said yeah, but he had to double check if his internship wouldn’t get in the way.”

“If it was me, love, a pesky internship would not get in the way of a night with a beauty such as yourself.” Klaus complimented you and then kissed your hand.

Marcel put himself between you and his sire. “Enough of that! Klaus, stay away from my niece.” Swinging his keys around his finger. “Y/N, let’s go.”

At the last minute, Rebekah called Marcel’s name. She claimed Marcel knew nothing about fashion and that you would appreciate a woman’s opinion. You knew she just wanted to spend time with Marcel, so you told him it was alright, because in the next breath you invited Klaus. If Marcel’s girlfriend was going, you were gonna bring your boyfriend.

Your uncle tried to persuade to rescind the invitation, but you wouldn’t. You came up with the piss poor excuse that Klaus would be lonely and bored, since Haley took Hope out on a day trip. Since you wouldn’t give up, Marcel allowed Klaus to come.

—

Five stores later and you still hadn’t found a dress. You wanted to go home and sleep, but Klaus wanted you to try one more store. At his insistence you went.

As soon as you stepped in an attendant greeted you. “Ms. Y/L/N, welcome. Mr. Mikaelson has chosen a couple of pieces he would like you to try on. Would you please follow me?”

You looked to Klaus confusingly. When did he have the time to pick dresses for you?

Klaus saw the storm brewing on Marcel’s face and had to quickly put it out. “Calm down, Marcellus. We all know I have exquisite taste. I’m simply just trying to make your niece the belle of the ball.”

Klaus was fooling nobody, Marcel thought. He knew Klaus wanted Y/N and he had to protect her at all costs. Y/N wasn’t gonna be collateral damage just because Klaus Mikaelson was interested in her.

“Be nice, Uncle Marcel. He’s only trying to help.”

Hearing your voice soothed Marcel. Unfortunately, you and Klaus were right. Anyway, what harm could be done if Klaus picked out your dress? It wasn’t a marriage proposal.

Allowing you to try on the dresses, Marcel and Rebekah browsed around, looking for backups just in case.

The attendant brought you to the dressing room, but there was only one dress. “Umm, there’s only one dress in here.”

“Mr. Mikaelson said you would fall in love with this one,” the attendant claimed before leaving you.

The dress was beautiful no doubt, but it was not you. There was no way you could do the dress any justice.

“Try it on, love.” You heard Klaus’ voice clearly.

“How’d you get back here?”

“I may or may not have compelled the owner. Now stop stalling and try the dress on or I’ll have you screaming my name loud enough for your uncle to hear.” You could hear him smiling. You knew a part of him wanted you to disobey him so you could out your relationship to Marcel, but you wouldn’t give Klaus the satisfaction.

Poking your head out, you stuck out your tongue at him. “You don’t play fair.”

“You’ll learn that I never do.”

Undressing quickly, you put on the dress. Unable to zip it up, you exited the dressing room with your back towards Klaus so he could do it for you.

“No peeking,” Klaus ordered, when he caught you trying to look in the mirror. He choose to torture you some more by slowly zipping up the dress and when he finished he lightly kissed the base of your neck.

Klaus guided you to the platform in the center of the room. Removing his hands away from your eyes, he finally allowed you to look at yourself in the mirror.

A gasp escaped your mouth. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. To your surprise, the dress actually looked good on you.

The dress reminded you of Aurora’s in Sleeping Beauty, but with glitter. Taking a twirl, you admired yourself. Klaus truly was a genius. Your dark cocoa skin complimented the pink dress perfectly. You played with your bundles, thinking of ways you wanted to style it.

Turning towards the genius, you jumped into his arms. “It’s perfect!” You squealed.

“You’re perfect, love.” Klaus couldn’t help himself and had to kiss you.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him. Right when he was just about to whine, Klaus witness you shrug out the dress. Leaving you only in your bra and panties.

Tilting your head to one side, you exposed your neck to Klaus. “I think all this dress shopping made you work up an appetite,” you suggested.

Klaus’ fangs descended and his eyes turned black. “I think you’re right, beautiful.”

When his fangs pierced your skin you were in heaven. Klaus knew exactly how to bring you to ecstasy.

Klaus didn’t know what he loved more, the taste of your blood or the sweet nectar between your legs. Honestly, it probably didn’t even matter, because either way you were feeding him.

So consumed with Klaus sucking on your neck, you didn’t notice his fingers slide into your core until you were close to coming. This was your favorite combination. Klaus draining you and making you cum at the same time. It left you feeling like you were floating.

Being careful not to take too much blood, Klaus retracted his fangs much to your displeasure. “You know I can’t take too much, little one. Safety comes before your pleasure.” Klaus reminded after you whimpered from the loss of his fangs.

Since there was still blood slowly oozing out of your puncture wounds, Klaus placed his lips there and sucked hard, getting the last bit of your blood.

“Get off of her!” Marcel’s voice jolted you. You were so consumed with Klaus that you forgot about Marcel was the one taking you shopping.

Marcel couldn’t even look at you right now. He specifically told you to stay away from Klaus and you disobeyed. “Get your clothes on, pay for the dress, and we’re leaving. NOW!” Marcel ordered you with his back facing you.

“Dress already paid for, Marcellus. I made sure of that.” Klaus said, moving closer to you.

“Klaus!” You whispered yelled at him. Provoking Marcel was not the right move right now.

Marcel ticked his head and stalked over to Klaus. For awhile they stood there silently just staring at each other. Marcel with hate and Klaus with a cheeky grin.

“Let’s go.” Marcel looked back at you and walked out, dismissing Klaus without a single glance.

Head hanging low, you began to follow Marcel until Klaus stopped you. “Queens do not bow their heads for anyone. Don’t let me catch you doing it again.” He whispered into your ear and then kissed your temple before letting you go.

—

“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him, yes or no?!” Marcel asked, wearing the carpet with all his pacing.

“Yes,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. This was going on for hours it seemed. He wouldn’t let you get a word in.

“I can’t believe you went against me! He’s dangerous, Y/N.”

Blah, blah, blah, blah. Soon, you started tuning Marcel out. He was just repeating himself and you were tired of it.

“Okay, I’ll admit he’s dangerous, but he’s kind, protective, and loving.” You went on to describe all of Klaus’ positive traits much to Marcel’s dismay.

Standing above you with his hands on his hips and the ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ father’s face, Marcel asked, “You do know we’re talking about Klaus Mikaelson?”

“Yes! I get it, he’s done you dirty. But you said so yourself he’s gotten better.” You reminded Marcel of your first conversation about Klaus. “Uncle Marcel, I’ve never felt this way about a guy before. Please, give us a chance.”

Your eyes, his sister’s eyes were getting to him. He was never able to say no to her, figures he would never be able to say no to you.

“Okay, but you move in with me. We never know if one of his enemies will try to take you and I prefer to keep you safe.” Marcel was already thinking of bringing you in. He wanted to spend more time with you.

Excited, you jumped from the couch and hugged him. “You got yourself a deal.”

“I’m so glad you could come to an agreement. I didn’t want to have to dagger you, Marcel.” Klaus entered your apartment and clapped Marcel on the back.

Marcel’s lip snarled. “You were outside this whole time?”

“Indeed I was. I understand your concerns for your niece, but Marcellus,” his eyes cut to you before he continued. “She’s the one. The only other person I feel as strongly about is my child. Do what you will with that.”

Marcel knew the lengths Klaus would go to protect Hope, that’s why he felt a weight lift off his shoulders when Klaus made that comparison. Klaus may have not been the man Marcel imagined you with, but he would have to accept that for the sake of your happiness.

With one more threat, Marcel left, leaving you and Klaus alone.

Klaus backed you into the couch until you had no choice but to lay down. “Now that our little secret is revealed, we got one more pesky problem.” He whispered lowly, his beard slightly tickling you.

“And what is that,” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Your date to the ball. Do you want me to cancel his invitation or do you want to?”

“I’ll do it!” You rushed to reply. Your way would involve a lot less blood and guts than Klaus’ and you had a feeling you would have to continue doing that for the foreseeable future.

Tagging: @twistedcharismaaa @wawakanda-bitch @thickemadame @tgigoldie @chaneajoyyy

[thebladeblaster]

Rebirth of A Samurai (Part 3)

Summary: This fic is a what if scenario to SMT4 Apocalypse. I would go into more detail, but I don’t want to spoil too much of what this fic entails. If this fic gains traction I may continue the story on from this one-shot. Warning: This is a long one.

This may be the last I write for awhile with college right around the corner. I won’t stop completely, but it will become a lot slower.

“Shhh...don’t say that Flynn is supposed to be having a nice dream.”, Flynn’s mother said.

“Who the fuck are you? Your not my mother she might have been controlling and overbearing, but she had a good heart. She was never a colossal bitch even to Issachar.”, Walter questioned.

“Your mother? Are you Flynn’s…? No he’s not he’s...we’re...I-I’m not Issachar!”, Issachar said.

“What are you saying of course your Issachar!”, Not-Flynn’s mother said.

“No, I’m not Issachar! And their not Jonathan, Walter, and Isabeau! We’re the fifth son, Flynn Alexander!”, Not-Issachar rebuked.

The prentices eyes widened.

“I’m not…? I’m not Jonathan?”, not-Jonathan questioned.

“Think! Do you know your parents' names? What’s the first thing that springs to your mind? How about where you live?”, not-Issachar questioned.

“I-I...Why am I imagining…? Wait, I don’t know where Jonathan lives. I've never been there. Not even before or after he became Merkabah I just never had time to.”, not-Jonathan said.

“Merkabah? Why does that…? That’s right Jonathan became Merkabah and Walter became Lucifer! I fought them!”, not-Isabeau said as her eyes widened.

“Hoy?! What are you guys...Wait I fought Merkabah too but I didn’t fight Lucifer I helped him!”, not-Walter said.

“That’s right, we're the fifth son. You who looks like Jonathan you chose preservation. You who looks like Walter you chose upheaval. You who looks like Isabeau you chose neutrality. And I who looks like Issachar...I chose to unmake the world. I chose nihilism.”, not-Issachar revealed, after he did there was an audible crack in seemingly reality.

“Hoy, that means there’s a version of me that chose law? Ah gross…”, Not-Walter said.

“The feeling is mutual.”, Not-Jonathan said with disgust in his eyes looking at not-Walter.

“No wonder I thought you guys really were Jonathan and Walter. You sure butt heads like they eventually did.”, Not-Isabeau responded with a light chuckle.

Not-Flynn’s mom’s eyes were shadowed as the world around them went silent. Everyone around them froze in place before turning on them.

“You shouldn’t be here, interlopers.”, Not-Flynn’s mom said.

“I know we shouldn’t normally. Our memories of the previous cycle’s are usually mostly dormant in our subconscious, but you’re tampering with the current Flynn’s mind has called us here, Krishina!”, Not-Issachar explained.

A demonic smile identical to the one on Flynn’s face when he was possessed appeared on not-Flynn’s mom’s face. He dropped the disguise revealing himself as Krishina.

“Get away from us! I mean Flynn! I mean stop!”, Not-Issachar said as he pulled a samurai said as he pulled out a samurai sword from thin air and the others drew theirs.

Flynn's past lives memories were normally kept in his subconscious to prevent them from driving him insane. They are basically the embodiment of his memories of those past lives. He remembers they awakened when Krishna started messing with the current Flynn’s mind. They were awakened to stop him from turning him into a mindless puppet. However, when then entered the illusion their minds were tampered with like the current Flynn’s made to believe they were other people so Flynn didn’t instantly realize something was wrong. He could tell by looking in Flynn’s eyes those times. He was slowly losing his own will. He could feel he was dangerously close to losing what’s left of it. That’s why Krishna had so much power in his mind now. He created this illusion after his fellow Divine Powers tortured him for days to break him.

“My kalki is almost ready for our fight with YHVH and I’m afraid I don’t have much time for you since I’m dealing with another interloper right now. Let’s see if you can defeat your own mind. Well I won’t but...well see you later kalkis.”, Krishna said before disappearing.

“Pfft! Is this the best you can do Krishna? You should know better than to underestimate the king of Tokyo! I can beat this entire village alone!”, Not-Walter boasted.

As if Krishna heard him, demons, angels , gods, and even humans appeared from all around them. Every single person or creature they had ever fought throughout the cycles was here, even the likes of Lucifer, Merkabah, Ancient of Days, Sanat, and Masakado.

“You just had to say that didn’t you?”, Not-Jonathan questioned, with a priceless look on his face.

“Aww man...this is gonna be awesome!”, Not-Walter said.

Not-Jonathan’s eyebrow twitched incredulously.

“How in YHVH’s name did I become you?”, Not-Jonathan questioned in complete disgust.

“You probably got sick of that pole up your ass and decided to actually live a little in your next life.”, Not-Walter replied.

“Simmer down guys, we gotta work together for now. Even if it’s just a temporary truce.”, Not-Isabeau said getting between the two.

“For now, after all it would be a tragedy if I was forced to fight my lord.”, Not-Jonathan replied.

“Your lord is the reason we’re in this freaky time loop. But, I guess I’ll tolerate your high strungness for a bit longer. I’d hate to lose my free will.”, Not-Walter replied.

“Just uh wow…”, Not-Issachar said, amazed to see how extreme some of his other selves were.

“I guess this is what we would have been like had we fallen into ‘monolithic extremes’ as Isabeau called it. But, now is not the time for that, the people need us.”, Not-Isabeau said.

“Uh yeah…!”, Not-Issachar replied, feeling awkward since he chose nihilism.

Even now not-Issachar regretted his cowardice in choosing that choice. Unlike the other Flynn’s he did fervently believe in the path he chose.

They called upon their own demons from their respective cycles. Not-Walter rushed into a horde of demons with reckless abandon, slicing them into bits. Not-Jonathan swiftly beheaded Hope without any emotion. He then stayed back observing their enemies and exploiting their weaknesses. Not-Isabeau used Antichthon which was effective against basically everything, vaporizing low to mid and even some lower high tier demons instantly. For those it didn’t it lowered their overall performance crippling their offense and defense. Not-Issachar rushed to Flynn now that Krishna was nowhere in sight. However as he did he was stopped by his dad.

Not-Issachar froze facing his father still remembering finding his mangled form on that fateful day.

“Sorry dad.”, Not-Issachar apologized, before instantly vaporizing him with Antichthon.

He looked all over for Flynn before finding him unconscious. He ran over to him, shaking him awake. Not-Issachar looked relieved as he started to stir.

“Issachar?”, Flynn questioned sleepily.

That relief faded when he felt a sword get thrust through his chest. He knew that was a bit too easy. What he did expect was for him to transform into a giant fiery snake.

“I-I don’t remember that happening?! It must have been Krishna. You're a decoy.”, Not-Issachar said.

“I am Shesha. I fooled you like I fooled your little dim witted Tokyo.”, Not-Flynn said.

“You did what…”, Shesha nearly flinched when he heard the low angered tone of Not-Isabeau.

He could practically feel the anger radiating off her umm...him? Well he was Isabeau right now kinda. Anyway, Not-Isabeau practically launched herself at Shesha. They flew through the building creating a massive hole in the house.

“Then where’s Flynn?”, Not-Issachar questioned.

He looked around the remains of the house and ran through the battlefield making sure to punch Tayama when he saw him. Throughout the carnage he noticed a calm spot like the eye of a storm. That was it he rush through to see an unconscious Flynn guarded by Odin, Maitreya, and Great Innana. They haven’t personally fought them like Shesha so this was more of Krishna’s manipulation. His demons came to his side Quetzalcoatl, Tiamat, and Orochi. He was having a tougher time than the others due to having weaker demons since his cycle ended prematurely. He was able to defeat Innanna and greatly wound Matrieya, but he was tiring and Odin killed off his demons.

“Heh, despite not being the first, you're definitely the weakest incarnation of our godslayer.”, Odin taunted as he prepared to finish him off.

He closed his eyes as Odin thrust his spear forward and a loud crackle of lightning rippled through the air.

“Odin! You bastard, you embarrassed my current self by knocking him out and kidnapping him! I’m going to tear your head off like I did to the Odin of my cycle!”, Not-Walter yelled as he jumped out from a horde of dead demons and launched himself at Odin like a madman.

Odin was too low to turn his attention to not-Walter as he was nailed in the gut by Deadly Wind. He gasped in pain, flinching and dropping his spear as not-Walter smiled devilishly. Matrieya tried to attack but not-Walter grabbed his face and vaporized him with Antichthon.

“Hoy, get up Flynn!”, Not-Walter said as he kicked the unconscious Flynn much to not-Issachar’s horror.

He cringed as he heard Flynn wince.

“Argh!!! Walter stop! Wait Walter? How do I know your name?”, Flynn questioned.

“Because none of this is real and you’ve gotta get your ass up and kick the shit out of that fedora wearing god!”, Not-Walter explained poorly.

“I-I what?!”, Flynn questioned, reasonably confused.

Not-Issachar tried to explain the situation to Flynn properly, leaving out anything about his past lives letting him believe they were just versions of his friends created by his mind. Reasonably Flynn looked shocked and skeptical, but he also saw Kiccigiori was now a massive battleground full of demons, angels, gods, and humans.

“T-there’s no way it c-can’t…”, Flynn mumbled, tears forming in his eyes looking around at the battle.

“Tough shit! That’s the truth Flynn! Our family is dead, Issachar’s dead, Jonathan’s dead, Walter’s dead and now Isabeau!”, Not-Walter said harshly.

Flynn stepped back looking incredibly shaken to his core.

“Have some tact!”, Not-Issachar yelled at not-Walter.

“We don’t have time for tact! He has to man up and wake the fuck up now or we’re done for good!”, Not-Walter yelled back angrily.

Flynn’s head hung low, covered by his bangs. Not-Issachar put a reassuring hand on Flynn’s shoulder.

“It may seem all dark now, but don’t give into despair like I did.”, Not-Issachar told him.

“You can’t go Flynn! You have to stay here with us! That’s what you want right Flynn? That’s what you always wanted! You never wanted to make the tough decisions! You just wanted to be a follower!”, another Not-Flynn’s mom said with another fake version of his dad by her side.

Tears fell from Flynn's face as he met his fake mom’s gaze. She opened up her arms to welcome him. Flynn shook, walking over to their side.

“You can’t be serious! You're even weaker than that quitter over there!”, Not-Walter roared in rage.

“I’m sorry…”, Flynn apologized quietly.

“Flynn…”, Not-Issachar murmured, sinking his head in defeat.

“...Mom...Dad...But there's nothing left for me here. You guys are dead, so is Issachar, and the village is in tatters. I let myself fall victim to this illusion because I wanted it to be real. I wanted your deaths to all be a horrible nightmare, but it’s not. It’s real and because I bought into this illusion more people...people I was supposed to protect are dead. I have to go back.”, Flynn said, with a steely resolve turning from his fake parents.

“No! Don’t abandon us again! I didn’t raise you to be heartless man who would walk out on his own family!”, his fake father yelled.

“Kiss our ass Krishna!”, Not-Walter yelled back smugly, flaunting Odin’s decapitated head as a trophy as Flynn walked towards them slowly picking up speed.

His clothes started to flicker out from his peasant garb to his samurai garb. Suddenly everything went white.

“Haha! He has spoken! You have now regained your right to create a world messiah Flynn! Let’s see if you fight to keep that right!”, the voice from his dream at the beginning of his adventure said.

When he reopened his eyes he saw a familiar teen with a half shaved head of brown hair and eerie glowing green eyes. He wore a green jumpsuit and had glowing green celtic tattoos, Nanashi. By his side were his own demons Anubis, Shiva, and his own Odin. It seemed he was in the middle of battle with him. He felt the weight of a pink lotus in his hands making him realize he was transformed like before. He was doubled over as Nanashi prepared to strike him down.

“Isabeau...what happened to Isabeau?”, he asked.

“Huh? Why are you asking, didn't I tell you, Krishna?”, Nanashi asked.

Vishnu-Flynn’s eyes were shadowed as he asked and Dadga’s eyes widened in realization.

“Wait there kid!”, Dadga tried to warn in his odd accent.

“I killed her like I did to the others before facing you. Heh, she called out Flynn’s name till the end. She was just another useless bitch like Asahi.”, Nanashi taunted, thinking he’d won.

He didn’t fully mean that he felt a bit bad about killing the others after everything, especially after actually carrying out their deaths, but it was far too late to turn back now.

“Heh, he’s shaking. Krishna must be scared now knowing I beat the others.”, Nanashi thought.

Honestly the whole point of telling him of his betrayal was meant to intimidate him. After all, he knew his former friends weren’t complete slouches. To be fair he died a few times fighting them. He killed them because he knew they would oppose the path he took.

However, Vishnu-Flynn was not shaking from fear...it was unbridled rage. The entire area around them was filled with a powerful aura of bloodlust. Nanashi was going to swing down at him with Masakado’s katana, but he couldn’t feel his arm. He looked over only to gaping in horror when he saw his hand had been severed without him even noticing. His hand still holding the katana stabbed into the ground behind him. Nanashi’s eyes widened in absolute shock.

“You fucked up there kid. That’s not Krishna.”, Dadga said.

Before he could even react his body his head was cut clean off by Vishnu-Flynn’s next strike. Nanashi tried to bite back the intense pain circulating throughout him. Normally no one would know the pain of their head being severed due to dying instantly, but since Nanashi was immortal he felt all of it and he howled in pain.

“You!!! How dare you! I saved you! I trusted you! And you killed one of the only people I had left!”, Vishnu-Flynn roared full of venom.

He stood up to his full towering height with two new detached arms and four new red laser swords.

“Ah, Flynn! He’s Flynn. Did he have to go for my head?”, Nanashi thought as his body started to regrow itself.

Nanashi gasped in pain as he was torn apart by Vishnu-Flynn’s blades again before he could regrow his body fully. A loud crackle of thunder slammed down at Vishnu-Flynn which he blocked with his swords. Which hummed only powered up by the lightning. He turned his attention to Nanashi’s demons. He dodged a Mamudoon launched by Anubis. He swiped his arms not releasing his full magical power which was dormant while under Krishna’s control and used Antichthon on Anubis nearly vaporizing him on the spot and severely crippling him. He finished off the god with a single strike to his blade. Shiva launched himself at him and the two were locked in a dangerous dance of blades. Shiva was skilled certainly, known as the destroyer in the polytheistic religion he was technically apart of right now as Vishnu-Flynn. However, Flynn was very very pissed off. When he was pissed off he didn’t slip up no...he became more skilled and more merciless in combat. Besides he’s already fought Shiva before and he knows the way he fights. Vishnu-Flynn turned the tide against Shiva putting him on the back burner as Odin tried to shoot lightning at him.

Dadga gaped genuinely impressed as Vishnu-Flynn danced around Odin’s lightning and fought Shiva at the same time. The difference between Flynn and Krishna fighting was like the difference between Heaven and Earth. Krishna certainly wasn’t a slouch, but he was primarily a schemer who used what most would consider more underhanded tactics and trickery to win fights. Flynn however was a godslayer in every meaning of the world. Dadga felt he truly understood what exactly made someone a godslayer when he saw Flynn fight. Flynn reacted to and attacked on pure instinct like a demon. However, he attacked with the skill and precision of a human. His skill in question was truly staggering on the level of no...even surpassing the best warrior gods as he was completely overpowering and nearly toying with Nanashi’s demons.

He finished healing up his godslayer who took a deep inhale as his body finally reformed after being mangled badly by Vishnu-Flynn. Nanashi tried to regain his bearings and prepared to attack Vishnu-Flynn. It took much longer and was much more draining for Dadga than usual because usually not as much of Nanashi had to be healed when he revived him. Usually the kid might get stabbed in the heart, decapitated, or even instant killed, but those weren’t as hard for him to fix.

“That man is a real monster.”, Dadga thought, feeling nervous for the first time he started his campaign to kill all the gods and recreate the universe.

This man didn’t have the ability to revive as he pleased and he was merely a human. Well...he wasn’t right now, but he usually was. At least Krishna had good taste that’s exactly why he planned to steal his godslayer from him.

Vishnu-Flynn dodged Odin’s spear strike causing him to pierce Shiva. With a swipe of his hands Vishu-Flynn obliterated the two with Shine More like Anubis not even leaving a trace behind for Nanashi to revive. Nanashi concentrated and launched a Deadly Wind at Vishnu-Flynn. More demons had replaced his fallen ones: Great Innanna, Isanami, and Xi Wangmu.

Vishnu-Flynn dodged his attack shot forward faster than Nanashi could comprehend and sliced him into bits again this time using Dark Nandaka on his bits. His demons turned to Vishnu-Flynn completely stunned at his speed. Before Great Innanna could even act she was decapitated. Xi Wangmu shot a Ziodyne at him which he easily dodged before cleaving both her and Izanami into bits. With a swipe on his hands he vaporized their remains with Shine More.

Fear grew within Dagda as Nanashi hadn’t even fully regrown himself before Flynn slashed him into bits mercilessly. He knew Nanashi didn’t have many demons left to use and Flynn was killing all of them permanently. His slashes grew so fast all Dagda saw was a storm of blades. Before that he could count about 10000 strikes per millisecond, but now all he saw was a blur. He was killing Nanashi faster than he could revive him. Dadga had a hard time keeping track of if Nanashi was dead or alive since he died so fast.

Krishna was extremely pleased. While his kalki had broken free of his contract he was now completely embarrassing Nanashi and his forces which gave him no small amount of satisfaction. As well as having a front row seat to the true magnificence of his kalki. He was content to sit back and let his godslayer do the work in killing Nanashi. Of course, there was the obvious problem that he was no longer in control of Flynn, but he could fix that in time. For all he knows Flynn can go ahead and kill YHVH while he’s at it, then he can swoop in at the right time, steal control, and achieve salvation. So, yeah Krishna was pretty content sitting back and munching on imaginary popcorn while his kalki went berserk.

Dadga was sweating now as he was greatly drained by how many times he had to revive Nanashi in this fight alone. When he told his godslayer he could die as many times as he wanted he was joking. He never thought he would actually have to revive him this much consecutively against anyone besides YHVH. Dagda was a god, but even he had his limits. A limit he was dangerously close to hitting. Even his reserves weren’t infinite.

Nanashi hardly had a second to think before he was continuously violently torn apart by the man his more naive self once idolized. He had time to feel though. Absolute horror and terror. He had honestly thought he was up to Flynn’s level by now after all he’s killed many gods, demons, and angels at this point. Confident he could beat him if Krishna happened to seduce him to his cause like Dadga to him. Defeating his former friends and beating down Vishnu-Flynn only further bolstered his confidence that he was truly unbeatable. However, he now realized how completely wrong he was. He had never been anywhere near Flynn’s level. He was beating down Vishnu-Flynn because that fop with a flute was in control, not the true Flynn. He had his power no...not even all of that he swore when he sensed his magic power earlier it had nearly doubled. Though, that may be because how enraged Flynn currently was. His intense rage may be boosting his magic to ridiculous heights. Finally, his skill...was absolutely monstrous. He thought Isabeau and Gaston were pretty good, but this man was on a completely different dimension of skill from the both of them. He wasn’t exactly educated in such things, honestly he relied more on magic than anything, but he understood that he was kicking his ass worse than anything has in his whole life with freaking swords alone. He shuttered from deep within his soul with unparalleled fear. He wasn’t sure he could get out of this especially since he didn’t look like he was tiring. Tiring was an easy thing for someone like him to exploit. He was basically a zombie so he never got exhausted and Dadga healed his wounds upon death. Stamina and his immortality was his overwhelming advantage against everyone he faced. However, now he was honestly cursing it. This is what he imagined hell was like continuously dying infinitely and instantly with absolutely nothing he could do to get out of it. For an immortal like him this is exactly what hell was like. This was one of the best arguments against having immortality, endless suffering.

A deeper part of him...Akira shuttered in horror at the sight...no the very idea of Flynn’s rampage. What had he done to Ryou? He wasn’t like this. Ryou was always a kind, gentle soul. He was skilled, yes, but not to this...to such an inhuman degree. He remembered how Ryou would feel bad about even killing demons. He was a complete wreck after killing Kiyoharu and Kenji to stop their insane plans. He most certainly wasn’t ever the type to anger. He was more often than not a mediator between the more hot-headed members of the Counter-Demon Force. For such a kind, loving soul to be reduced to this blind bloodlusted demonic rage...It broke Akira’s heart to see his dear friend like this. Any sense of mercy and kindness was gone from the eyes of his incarnation replaced with anger and bloodlust. He still remembered the day he lost him. The day he sacrificed himself not unlike his current incarnation did to save Asahi. He knew then that he was truly his old friend reborn. But now that was all gone...Because of his own actions he turned Ryou into this monster before him. He unsealed Krishna who stole him away and merged with him. He made him completely snap by killing that girl Isabeau. He felt the worst chill down his spine when he heard Vishnu-Flynn start to chuckle. He was enjoying this?! The pure hearted self sacrificing idiot Ryou was enjoying this?!

“What the fuck have I done?”, Akira thought in complete horror from deep within Nanashi.

“Ryou! Ryou! Stop, please! Snap out of this! This isn’t you!”, Akira begged his voice cracking as he did so, knowing full well he couldn’t hear his begging.

No no someone had to stop him before he completely lost his humanity.

Flynn was beyond being enraged that word hardly encapsulated the fire he felt from within his soul. Even before all of this he had lost so many people close to him, his parents and Issachar. He still remembered the deep horror he felt when he realized...he killed his own mother without even realizing it. Once that guy apologized about not being able to help his parents his mind went completely blank. He killed every demon in his way without an ounce of mercy as he desperately searched for them. He didn’t know that one of the camazotzs was his mother. He didn’t know any of the demons in the forest were his fellow villagers at that point. When he found out he completely broke down. It was difficult to hide from the others he had to put on his own iron mask so they didn’t see him completely break down. He realized it when he finally found his father. He was still human, a bit mangled and in serious need of medical attention, but he was alive. But, then his hopes were completely dashed…

Flashback

It was after their first encounter with the black samurai, Lilith. Extreme relief entered his eyes when he saw one of the medics had his father. His fellows were off to themselves right now. He practically ran over to him when he saw him hope that his mother may be alive too bubbled up inside him. He didn’t expect his father. His strong, loving father to look absolutely terrified when he saw him. He was extremely confused when his father jumped back squirming away from the doctor when he saw him. That’s when he knew something was horribly wrong. He looked over his uniform checking for blood which may have spooked him. He gasped when he realized he had quite a lot on him. How did he not notice? He was just so focused he completely blotted out everything else.

“W-wait dad I can explain-“, He stuttered.

“S-stay away from me! Y-you turned into a-a m-monster like your mother did didn’t y-you?! Y-you here to finish me off!”, his father accused completely hysterical.

“M-my mother?! Mom...she….”, He muttered before he completely froze.

He pulled out a wooden sword guard shaped not unlike a flower from his pocket. It was badly worn, cracked, and had blood spattered on it. He recognized it as the one from the toy sword his mother made from him which he used to use to spar with Issachar. His mother may have disliked his friend, but she acknowledged that Flynn as a kid needed a friend to play with. Despite her distaste she made that toy sword full of love hoping he’d have lots of fun with it. He found it after he killed a demon which at the time confused him. He remembered the demon rushing up to him, but it wasn’t attacking strangely. He was too out of it though...when he fought he entered this state where he completely lost control over himself...He was just fighting blindly not thinking of anything else. He had no idea how it happened...it just did. He remembers coldly cutting down the demon that approached him without remorse. Thinking about it now he felt deeply sickened and revulsed by himself. Especially after realizing only now he was covered in blood. This feeling only worsened when he put two and two together.

That demon was his mother. He killed his mother.

He felt extremely lightheaded and nauseous now. His breathing became extremely heavy. His eyes widened at the realization.

“Ah! Ah!”, he gasped in complete horror.

He felt like he was about to have a panic attack as he clutched chest. He shook uncontrollably, hardly able to form coherent words as he imagined his mother’s warm smile. The doctor looked alarmed hearing the incoherent distressed noises he was making. For the first time he felt his soul wail. He completely collapsed on the ground. His father was right, he was a monster. He killed his own mother!

Flashback end

His father was deemed to be under demonic possession and had an exorcism performed on him which killed him. He wasn’t possessed, he was driven insane by seeing the woman he loved turn into a demon and thought the same thing happened to his son when he came over to him covered in blood! He killed Issachar too; he begged him to do so, but he didn’t want to lead his best friend to only suffer more. Then, Jonathan and Walter he knew they were dead from his illusionary Walter’s words. He still wishes he could have done something like awaken them from inside the beings that stole their bodies. However, he couldn’t they died as Lucifer and Merkabah twisted embodiments of their ideals. Isabeau...He didn’t kill her directly, but it was his fault she died. If he had woken up sooner rather than letting himself fall prey to Krishna’s illusion he could have saved her. No he should have never let himself be captured by the Divine Powers! He should have found another way to save Asahi and escape...Everything that has happened over these past few days, everyone who died because of the Divine Powers and Nanashi, they were all on his hands. H-he felt like he was close to snapping a morbid chuckle was coming from his lips as he tore Nanashi apart. Surely he didn’t deserve this even with the horrible things he’s done. He was just a kid, for all he knew that being that made him like this manipulated him into doing all this.

A deep part of Flynn...Ryou didn’t want to believe Akira would do something so horrible. Surely not? It had to be a mistake. Akira would never do something so heartless…right? But...Kiyoharu and Kenji did. They were his best friends since childhood he knew them so well yet they changed into something unrecognizable from their former selves. Then, they committed horrible atrocities for what they believed in before he struck them down himself. He personally saw through Flynn’s eyes the horrible words he would have created if he sided with them. Even that deep part of him didn’t seem sure of anything anymore. Nothing seemed to work. He remembers more than Flynn does. He remembers his past lives where he followed four different paths. He despised most of them except the third path, the neutral path which for some odd reason was going very differently in this cycle. He chose that third path again, but it seems like everything has only gotten worse for some reason. If Flynn didn’t wake up sooner then everything...everything he had fought for, sacrificed himself for would be gone. He knew more than Flynn, he could see Krishna’s memories; he knew the depravity of Dadga’s selfish plan. It was...Childish. He understood defeating YHVH, but that’s where it ended. Destroying the entire world, the world people had out there heart and soul into bettering and protecting just because you wanted the world to be ‘your’ ideal it was...beyond selfish. That plan spat on all the hard work and sacrifices humanity has made to better their world. Krishna wasn’t a saint either; he was nearly just as bad with his forced salvation plan. At least he had some love for humanity...even if it was twisted. But, Dadga’s plan was undoubtedly worse. This foolish god seriously believed that all a person needed was themselves. That’s completely wrong for a god of knowledge he sure didn’t know much. Humans were social creatures by nature; they needed each other to survive. No one is perfect and his world would be undoubtedly polluted by his own biases and cruel beliefs. Besides how was Ryou supposed to honestly believe that someone willing to sacrifice their allies and even the whole universe was going to be a more benevolent ruler than YHVH? He already was like YHVH, manipulating and sacrificing people for his own ends. They were exactly the same...It would be the same cruel world YHVH created just with a new face in control. It completely tore him up that Akira was actually a part of this depraved plan. He wanted to cling onto the idea he was manipulated and controlled but...He remembers destroying Tokyo he sacrificed himself for with his own hands alongside the angels. He remembers filling the world with demons and ruling over the hell on Earth he created. He remembers unmaking the world in a moment of weakness. He made these same horrible mistakes and he did those same horrible atrocities as the others. He had become the same if not worse than them.

Ryou still wanted to forgive, but he could hardly forgive even himself anymore. He felt bad for his current self; he was just as distressed and confused as he was, except he didn’t fully understand why. Despite his past lives memories being locked up he still had feelings and echoes of those lives within himself. From his law cycle he had obtained the ability to completely shut everything else out and focus on a singular goal no matter how depraved. His magic power had carried over and growled continuously stronger with every cycle. His inhuman level of sword skill was also for that life mostly from strangely after his death. After his death he became an angel for a confusing amount of time not even he was sure how long. Something that still deeply revulsed him. He remembers having a divine sword then YHVH gave him. Honestly, he didn’t remember the name, but honestly he just wanted to forget any of that happened. He became YHVH’s sword, cutting down anything that opposed him, even fellow messiahs for other worlds. He understood it was a long time, but he wasn’t sure how long than his ‘forgiving’ god shoved him back into the cycle he decided on as his punishment for saving Tokyo from his wrath as soon as he was done with him. Unbelievable...If there’s one being he truly hated it was YHVH. From his chaos cycle he gained the ability to completely give into his instincts and battle using instinct alone. Along with that rage he didn’t remember having. That alone has caused many troubles for the current Flynn especially what’s...currently transpiring. It even affected him. Making him go completely berserk at times if he felt really angry or got too into a battle. Without that cycle he would have never...Not even in his law cycle enjoyed hurting others. The king of Tokyo enjoyed a lot of things he disagreed with because he didn’t care. His heart had been turned rotten by Lucifer and he stopped caring about anyone, but himself. Honestly, his nihilism cycle didn’t contribute much, but his revulsion with his previous cycles unknowingly affected Flynn’s decision in that cycle to unmake the world. From his neutral cycle he combined his law cycle’s skill with his chaos cycle’s instinct to create a deadly combination in battle. He didn’t have as much time to refine his combat as his law cycle, but he still did improve it in the lifetime he had along with his magic like his other cycles. That first time he chose neutral was the happiest one that he hoped would stick; however, that hope was dashed when after a long and fulfilled life he woke back up at Lake Mikado again. However , that life influenced this Flynn to choose neutral again. He guessed he was still trapped because YHVH wasn’t done with him yet. He suspects YHVH wasn’t happy with him having an enjoyable cycle even if it wasn’t perfect. So, this time things changed he was prevented from removing the firmament and he was captured by the Divine Powers. Now, Akira was trying to destroy the world he once defended like he did. He could practically imagine YHVH laughing in his face while they killed each other.

“Please stop this Akira! We shouldn’t be fighting each other! Please forgive him Flynn! I know you’re hurting I can feel your pain! Please!”, Ryou begged, sobbing uncontrollably.

A less forgiving part of him couldn’t help but take pleasure in tearing Nanashi to shreds. He is the one who killed Isabeau, the last of his original prentice group. His heart hurt more than he expected when she was killed. He was the one who released Krishna and put him into this whole mess. He...He!

“Kill him! Kill him! Make him regret ruining things for us!”, that angered voice in his mind said which reminded him of the illusionary Walter.

[goldenfawnwriting]

Birds Of A Feather- Part 13 Hawks Fic

Summary: Finch is training with the commission now, the training intense and nearly deadly, can it get any worse?

A/N: I keep turning off my keyboard lights while I’m writing this and I’m about to throw this damn thing also I’m running out of Gifs lord help me

Warnings: Violence, angst, emotional trauma

It had been another week of torture, another week of mental and physical torture. Finch’s body was so close to collapse as she walked into her apartment, falling onto the couch again. It went like this pretty often, her body unable to keep up with the routines and so, she could almost never make it back to her actual bedroom. Hawks had been away on a business trip for the past three days, Asami was busy with her hero work. Finch had no one to turn to and tears began running down her cheeks. It had been so much more than stressful, it had been spirit breaking, absolutely awful. 

Her muscles felt as if they had been shredded, her mind was exhausted, she couldn’t even lift a finger if it saved her life while she was in this shape. And so she passed out on the couch, her body finally succumbing to exhaustion. 

What she wasn’t aware of, was that the very next day she would really be put to the test. The red winged man had been away for a reason, the commission had made sure he wouldn’t be around to intervene and it only crossed her mind when she stepped up on a ledge, blindfolded, the next day.

“You are blindfolded today and handcuffed for one reason today Finch, do you know what reason?”

She stayed silent. She had learned that not everything was meant to be answered. 

“We’ll be putting your flying to the test today.”

“I-I’ve never flown before-”

“You have wings for a reason. And I do hope they work, or you’’ll be in some real trouble her win a second.”

The man spoke. There was a cold sweat on her forehead as she felt a breeze go by. More than a breeze actually, it was wind. She was getting confused, what were they going to have her do exactly? There was hands at the back of her head and she twitched slightly at the touch, the blindfold being untied and removed. Her face went pale.

She stood atop the agency building, almost 40 stories high. Her stomach dropped and she glanced back tot he man standing behind her. Multiple men actually, some with clipboards, some using voice recorders as they mumbled notes into the speakers. They were going to throw her off the roof...

“H-hey, I don’t think this is really the way, shouldn’t we take this a little-”

The mans hand laid on her stomach as she turned towards them and with as much as she fought against going off the edge, it wasn’t more than a few seconds before she was free falling, her voice going hoarse as she screamed. 

How was she supposed to just fly?! How was she supposed to just do it?! She was panicking big time, the g-force of falling nearly blacking her vision, she couldn’t even see against the wind whipping around her face, her hair cutting into her skin, or at least it felt like it. With all the thoughts wrecking her mind she finally set eyes on the ground, which was very quickly approaching her, at an alarming pace actually. She took a note out of Hawks’ book, thinking back to all the times he had flown from the window of the office. She spread her wings, the wind making it increasingly difficult. It shouldn’t be that hard, she’d watched him do it a million times. 

She was starting to panic more and more, her mind racing as she started to cry. The tears were whipped off her face faster than she could get them out. She struggled harder to get her wings out, and at this point she was so close to the ground she wasn’t sure if it would save her or not. She squeezed her eyes shut as the ground came closer when suddenly she ascended, the wind catching her and ripping her upwards. 

“Come on dove, we’ve got to do better than that!”

She heard through the wind. Her eyes came open, squirming around to look at the man above her, his wings outstretched and carrying them both. 

“H-Hawks!”

“Alright, gorgeous, stretch those wings out for me!”

She did as she was told, letting her wings out as far as she could.

“Good job! Now just keep them out and you’ll glide!”

“Hawks don’t let go-!”

His arms disappeared from around her waist and she screeched, closing her eyes shut again.

“Just keep them out!”

It was a moment before she heard his voice come through the wind again.

“Haha, look at that princess, you’re doing it!”

She felt her stomach flip and she opened her eyes, looking down at the city below her. 

“Hawks! I’m flying! Oh my god I’m flying!”

He chuckled down at her and took in her spread wings below him. She looked amazing in the air. 

“We’ll have to do a couple more flying lessons and get you a visor but, you really are a natural!”

He grabbed her as he stopped them on the sidewalk, a few bystanders surrounding to ooo and ahh at them. 

“Lets get back to the agency, I need to have a talk with them about their methods also.”

He grumbled, shoving his hand into his pockets as they walked back. 

“Wait, where have you been the past couple days?”

“Had to work on a case with another district.”

She nodded at his short answer and followed behind him silently after that. He seemed pretty mad.

^^^

She waited patiently in the office as she was told, Hawks on the other side of the glass door to the hallway, yelling at some poor kid about what they had just done. As she waited she was revisiting the memory of finally flying. Suddenly, she heard the door close and a loud sigh. 

“God I hate the people here...”

Hawks groaned, slumping down in the chair across from her. She didn’t reply, she wasn’t really sure how to, truth be told. 

“Are you ok?”

She looked up to him with wide eyes. It had been awhile before anyone asked her that.

“Oh y-ya I’m fine.”

“they just threw you off a building Finch-”

“I’m trying to be a hero Hawks, worse could happen.”

“You would’ve died-”

“And thank you for saving me. I appreciate it.”

She stood up and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I have to get back to training, it was nice to take a break though, thanks.”

“Finch no, you’re done with training today.”

“I can’t just be done with training Hawks, I have to be better.”

There was a pause and she started to walk towards the door before Hawks shot up, grabbing her by the arm.

“You’re done for the day.”

He growled sternly, pulling her to turn towards him. She ripped her arm away from him.

“I have to do better Hawks.”

He looked at the look in her eye and half of him was scared. There was a spark in her eye, a glint of fire, that gave him a chill.

“Finch, you’re going to overwork yourself and end up dead, you can’t become a hero in one day.”

Finch looked down and he could see her tearing up.

“Don’t do this to yourself, I’ve seen way too many fizzle out this way-”

“Hawks, I don’t have the time to mess around and be lazy-”

“Finch, don’t believe everything the commission tells you, they just want to profit.”

He reached out to her, trying to pull her close but she only turned, walking out the door. He didn’t chase her, knowing she needed some space.

As she made her way home and couldn’t stop her head from going a mile a minute. Something didn’t feel right, something inside her was fighting a war, it felt like. She just wanted to be a hero, but half of her was growing a hatred for the whole idea.

For days and days of training the hatred only grew, she slowly began to resent the system, how heros were awarded shining medals and glory for simply doing what was right for the people around them, any other idea was written down as villain. They told her if she went about her business, lived a normal life and didn’t throw herself into everyone else’s problems that she was suddenly a horrid person. 

As she sat in bed at night her mind only continued with the questions. How could that say that then torture her? They called it ‘training’ when they threw her off the tallest building they could day after day. Slowly, she was beginning to resent the commission, their practices, their methods. 

After training one day she ran a bath, soaking in the cold water. It felt like a dark smoke was taking over her mind, creeping in slowly, the stress of it all beginning to engulf her. The mental strain, the questions, the loneliness. She had effectively pushed everyone away from herself, driving herself mad with stress. 

She was so engulfed in herself she didn’t realize when the door slowly creaked open, letting Hawks peer into the bathroom to set eyes on the woman, sat curled up in the freezing water. 

“F-finch? Are you alright?”

He came closer when she didn’t reply, her mind in a completely different place. 

“Finch?”

He called. When she still didn’t reply he shot forward, concern enveloping him, but as soon as his fingers grazed her shoulder she went stiff as a board, growling lowly.

“Get away.”

“F-Finch,”

He caressed her shoulder delicately, trying to be as gentle as possible. 

“Tell me what’s wrong princess...”

She sucked in a breath and paused before she let it out and replied.

“You need to go.”

“Why?”

“It’s not safe here!”

He was taken aback. 

“W-what do you mean? You’re home Finch...”

“No where is safe anymore...”

She whimpered, a rough sob punching her in the chest. He grabbed the towel off the rack quickly and wrapped her up, pulling her out of the bath, when he felt how cold the water was. 

“Finch you’re going to get hypothermia, why is it so cold in here?”

“It’s hot.”

“It’s freezing-”

He set her down on her bed, going to brush her hair away from her face, feeling her forehead raging with fever. He felt guilty. He should’ve checked up on her sooner, he should’ve stayed close, made sure nothing was going wrong.

“Finch you need to take a break.”

“No..”

She choked out, wrapping her wings tight around her.

“It wasn’t a question. This has to stop, you’re killing yourself trying to get to a goal that you’ll throw away at this rate. You can't be a hero like this, I don’t care how determined you are.”

He scolded. She was silent before she stood shakily, getting dressed and making her way to the door.

“Where are you going? You’re not leaving.”

“I have to train more Hawks, I can’t waste time.

“Finch you’re not wasting time taking care of yourself, you’ll work yourself to death.”

“There’s no breaks in the real world.”

She mumbled.

[queeenpersephone]

Hello! I’d love to see what you have written for the Good Omens/Doctor Who story! ☺️

yay! okay this is literally just copy/pasted from my doc for this fic (about 2k), so the plot probably won’t be obvious but hopefully it’s still enjoyable to read! i just don’t think i’m ever gonna finish it because i never finished good omens

without further ado...

take it up with the badlands

summary: If he wants her to stay, he’ll have to fight those who shaped the universe. And they could, he knows. He is an immortal demon, no longer bent to the will of heaven or hell. She is the Bad Wolf, Goddess of Time and Space, capable of feats even he can barely imagine. That’s not even in question. The question is: would she ever actually want to stay with him?

Deep down, Crowley knows the answer. And it’s not a happy one. 

The white haired man looks her up and down, a mask of evaluation on his face, before grimacing in distaste. “Oh, I suppose I know why you’re here,” he announces when he has finished deducing. “Wish you people would leave him alone,” he adds under his breath.

Rose just smiles, playing along. Maybe the man this man speaks of is someone who can help her - the reason Bad Wolf sent her here. “Sorry, can I just wait for him here, then?” She twists one of the hoops in her ears, giving the bookseller a bright grin.

Instead of looking reassured, the gentleman looks even more unsettled. 

-

“I've been working on this top secret project for years now,” she tells them. “The Dimension Cannon - supposed to get me back to my proper universe. Only, someone noticed I wasn’t aging that quick, so they somehow got my blood from my files and ran some tests. Still don’t know what they found, but a couple days later my stepdad was deposed. He only had the resources to get my mum and my little brother to a safe house before they killed him.” She swallows hard. “I was tortured for about four months.”

Aziraphale murmurs a sympathetic “oh dear!” but makes no move to comfort her. Crowley tries to refrain from rolling his eyes: angels have a great sense of empathy, but really know shit about showing it.

“Anyway, I escaped. Been on the run for a month or so - saw something in your window that made me think this was a safe place.” Something in her eyes tells Crowley that she won’t tell them what it was, not yet. “I figure something about this universe makes me age slower, but they thought I was alien. After all the crazy shit that’s happened in the last decade, they felt betrayed, I guess.”

Crowley shrugs. “You are, though.”

Rose starts. “What?”

“You’re an alien,” Crowley clarifies unhelpfully.

Aziraphale takes over. “What Crowley is trying to say, my dear, is that you are neither angel nor demon, but you are an immortal. Quite a powerful one, I sense.”

Rose’s jaw nearly hits the floor. 

-

“Well, love,” Crowley drawls, “seeing as you’re probably going to be here awhile, you might as well come for drinks.” He drapes a loose arm over her shoulder, leading her out the door as Aziraphale closes up shop behind them.

“Are you tempting right now?” Rose teases, but he can see the shock and pain that still hide behind those golden eyes. Crowley’s never had mortal attachments, and he’s not the type to be empathetic, but he still acknowledges that it must be difficult. He’s only known this newly immortal human for an hour, but he can already see how strong she is. “‘Cause I’d rather have a friend,” she admits.

Crowley, thankfully, is saved from responding by Aziraphale’s gentle hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Ah, my dear, I’m quite sure we’ll get along splendidly! My demon friend here is slower to trust, but he’ll come around.”

“Oi, right here,” Crowley grumbles, but he manages a soft smirk at Rose as they stride off to their favorite bar. He’ll get to the bottom of this anomaly if it kills him. 

-

To Crowley, Rose is a walking contradiction.

She has a dark sense of humor and a penchant for danger and trouble, with a generally mischievous air that Crowley has always associated with demons. Yet, her staunch sense of right and wrong and blinding optimism could only belong to an angel. Well, Aziraphale, at least. The rest of the lot are right bastards. 

And she’s so far out of the rest of the humans’ league that she might as well be in another universe.

From one, Crowley mentally corrects. Then he wonders when this little goddess-human prototype began to take up so much space in his conscious thought. The space usually reserved for good tea and terrorizing plants and tight jeans - now filled up with thoughts about Rose Tyler’s bright laugh and bad jokes and uncertain fate. 

-

“There’s something you’re not telling us, love,” Crowley observes.

“Yeah,” she admits, a soft blush blooming on her cheeks. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, does it? I trust you.” Crowley makes an impatient shooing motion with his hands. “Yeah, okay, so in my universe, I sort of absorbed the time vortex? Long story short, I controlled all of Time for a few minutes - the Doctor said I would’ve burned, but he took it out of me.” Rose shrugs. “Anyway, the torture I went through.. that’s how I discovered I can kinda… control it, I guess.”

“Control it?” Crowley leans forward into her space, taking his hands out of his pockets.

Rose gestures around. “It’d be easier if I showed you - Aziraphale, do you have anything in the shop you’re not attached to?”

Crowley nearly loses it at his friend’s offended and very concerned expression. Oh, this girl is only proving herself to be more and more precious. 

-

“You’re God, huh?” Rose knows, gazing intently at the shadowy figure in the corner of her dream.

The figure straightens, but Rose still can’t make out any singular feature. It’s a woman, surely, but nothing else. “Bad Wolf, you do not belong in this universe,” God says, and Rose rolls her eyes.

“Took ya kind of long to figure that out, yeah?” 

God shrugs. “We couldn’t decide where you fit in with the Plan. And now We’ve decided you don’t fit, so We are sending you back.”

Rose's heart jumps at these words. “Back?” she stutters, “to the Doctor?”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Rose squints at Her. “You’re not doing it out of the kindness of your heart though, are ya?” God is silent, and then Rose knows. “You’re afraid,” she realizes. “You’re afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.”

“We have no fear,” God says, but it is like She is shouting in Rose’s head.

Rose’s eyes flash gold. “I take your atoms…”

“ENOUGH.” 

Rose wakes sweaty and exhilarated to the sweetest sound she has ever heard. To the sound of the TARDIS. 

-

Crowley takes one look at the Doctor and the way he holds Rose’s hand, keeping her slightly behind him in a completely unnecessary protective stance that fires up Crowley’s indignation - he left her, he left her, he has no right to protect her - before shoving him up against the wall in a chokehold. If Rose hadn’t been panicking about the possibility of them killing each other, she would probably be a little turned on. The man she’s loved for years and the demon that made her smile again, both with the body and face of her dreams? It’s probably a good thing she’d only ever think about that possibility in hindsight. 

“I fell,” Crowley growls, “through ash and fire. All for pride. Rose Tyler, all annoyingly empathetic and stupidly optimistic and fucking brilliant that she is - she helped me find peace. And that makes things very simple. If you hurt her, if she feels one ounce of pain that you had it in your power to prevent, I will fall to God’s feet and beg forgiveness for my sins just to travel between universes and rain hellfire down upon you.” His words have the same, ancient feel to them as the Doctor’s, the same cadence as holy scripture, as absolute truth, and Rose shivers. His voice is so low and heated that when she steps close between them and lays a hand on his chest to push him off the Doctor, even she can barely hear it. “And I’m quite good at that,” he adds, smirking down at Rose, who shakes her head at him with a soft smile on her face. 

“It’s been a ride, gentlemen,” Rose says, sparing Aziraphale a friendly nod before gazing up at Crowley. “Thank you.” She rubs the fabric of the henley over Crowley’s heart, and he groans in frustration.

“C’mon, love,” he tries, “look at him! I’m sure I can give you at least twice as many orgasms.” Rose giggles, used to Crowley’s brand of humor, but doesn’t miss the sharp noise that the Doctor makes behind her. “I’ll make you see heaven,” he promises, but she can tell by his eyes that he already knows her answer.

The Doctor moves up behind her, twining an arm around her and pressing his palm to her stomach. “And with me, she’ll see stars,” his voice is low and dark, and Rose knows that they need to get onto the TARDIS before a full out brawl occurs in front of her. 

So she takes the Doctor’s hand from her stomach, pressing a kiss to the back of it before shooing him back to the TARDIS. He goes, but he watches Crowley with sharp eyes.

“You’re better than you believe, yeah?” she whispers to the demon in front of her, cupping his cheek gently. “If I was meant to be here, in this universe, I’d be the one to show it to you. So you just gotta get back out there and find this universe’s match for you. I know they’re out there.” Her eyes dart to Aziraphale for a moment, wondering if something might eventually come from that. There’s history there, and they have the rest of eternity to figure it out. “Rely on your best friend, yeah?” She adds, wondering if a hint could turn into a catalyst.

“Rose-” Crowley begins hoarsely, before Rose dives her fingers into his ginger hair and pulls his lips down to meet hers. 

It’s a soft, chaste peck, nothing like that drunken night, but the possibilities hit them both like a freight train. It’s not hard to imagine their endless days: going for drinks with Aziraphale, lounging at his bookshop, Rose following his angry rants at his plants with a soft touch to their leaves, Crowley tempting ordinary humans into sin and Rose tempting Crowley into bed. In fact, it’s easy, and when Rose feels the hint of tears at the corners of her eyes, she pulls away. “Bye, love,” she murmurs, borrowing his nickname before giving him a quick squeeze. His arms don’t have time to come around her before she is walking back to the Doctor, who brushes his lips against her forehead before she walks past him and into the TARDIS. 

Crowley ignores the lump in his throat, but before he can walk away, a low tenor stops him. 

“I’m the last of my kind,” the Doctor is saying, eyes dark and intent. “I’m the killer of my kind. I’ve spent my life trying to do the best thing for the universe, but rest assured, I’ll now be doing the best thing for Rose. Forever.”

Crowley nods in agreement with this promise, before letting a smile quirk at his lips. “Have you considered whether she’ll let you?” He asks.

The Doctor grins full on at this. “Oh,” he says, stepping into his transdimensional blue box. “I can see why she liked you.”

With a groan and wheeze, the Bad Wolf disappears from this universe. God is satisfied, but Crowley sets out to get really, really drunk.

He won’t stop living, though, he refuses to disappoint his Rose like that. No, he’ll find his match.

After a few bottles of Scotch. 

-

“Did you love him?” The Doctor asks quietly, weeks later, when they have regained some sense of stability.

If she had been the same person she was when she started traveling with him, she might’ve lied. Been afraid to disturb the peace, the delicate tightrope that she and the Doctor always seem to balance on. But now, Rose is different. She understands relationships, understands love and trust and commitment, a little better. She knows the Doctor would never leave her, never let her leave unless he was absolutely sure it would truly make her happy. They’ve already hashed it all out, amongst tears and rage and late night nibbles, sitting at the foot of the TARDIS’ doors and dangling their feet into the cosmos. After everything they’ve been through, honesty comes easy.

“I could’ve,” she admits. She saves the waxing poetic, the memories of the dark quips and burning hugs and blunt speech, for their next visit with Jack. She’ll be honest with the Doctor, but she won’t set out to hurt him. “He’s a good man- demon, I mean,” she corrects. “Misunderstood and angry at the universe. He deserves a love that didn’t already promise someone else forever.” The Doctor reaches over, twining their fingers together. “And I’d never regret that promise, yeah?”

“Good,” the Doctor whispers, tugging her close. “Cause that’s how long you’re gonna stay with me.”

[touchstarvedsam]

Read on AO3 or read the fic under the cut.

Sam’s been spending less time in the bunker since curing Dean of being a demon. After unchaining him, he left the dungeon with a look on his face Dean never wants to see again. Dean’s seen Sam cry, he’s seen Sam completely broken and hurt. But he has never seen this look on Sam’s face before. Complete and total hopelessness, terror, and heartbreak. Not even after Jessica burned up on that ceiling did Sam look like that.

And Dean put that look there.

Dean broke Sam so totally and completely beyond repair.

He remembers the things he said, as a demon, because he remembers meaning them. But he doesn’t mean them now and he doesn’t know how to fix this.

Castiel had brought him food from the local diner after he was cured, said Sam placed the order and picked it up but couldn’t bring it to Dean himself. He’d told Cas he just needed time, and Dean will give him that, as much as it hurts having his little brother hide from him.

Sam ordered him a cheeseburger extra onion and double French fries, just like he likes, with two slices of apple pie for dessert. Even sad and scared, Sam will always think about Dean above himself.

He’d asked Cas if Sam got himself a salad like the health nerd he is. Cas just gave him a pitying smile, which told Dean everything he needed to know.

Now, almost a week since he was cured, Dean knows Sam hasn’t been eating enough, and that Sam spends a lot of time at the local bar outside Lebanon. It’s a couple steps down from a dive, but it has its share of rowdy drunks, a pool table for some good hustlin’, and bartenders that aren’t scared to kick you out on your ass. Dean would know.

And Sam has been there at least four nights this week.

It’s the fifth night that he hears the creak of the door open and slam shut that alerts Dean to Sam leaving again. It’s just after nine. Dean weighs his options and decides to follow Sam there but remain hidden; he’s gotten good at hiding since he got the mark of Cain.

He gives him an hour head start before heading over, driving through the lot to locate the car that Sam seems to take whenever he goes off alone, then parks in the back so Sam can’t find Baby and know that Dean came.

The bartender knows him, lets Dean take up a shadowed corner with a couple’a beers and hunker down to watch the show.

Sam seems to be two or three beers in; he’s swaying on his feet, cheeks flushed and hair a mess like he ran his fingers through it several times in frustration.

And he appears to be hustling, except the little shit is drunk and not just faking it to play the guys he’s hustling. If Sam does this every night without backup, Dean is going to kill him.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” one of the guys slurs, leaning too close to Sam for Dean’s liking. Dean never was fond of anyone touching Sam or calling him pet names. That’s Dean’s baby brother and Dean doesn’t play nice when it comes to Sammy. He watches as Sam visibly tenses – knows what’s making his brother uncomfortable – and steps back. “Oh, don’t be like that, pretty, you know you can’t win this, don’t ya? I’m givin’ you an out. Your arm’s broken, ain’t it?”

“No,” Sam replies, bumping the pool table in his haste to put more distance between them, grunting in pain at the contact. “Already told you… I lose an’ you take me for all the money I got, or you lose, and I take you for all the money you got – no more no less. I can beat you, sprained elbow or not.”

Dean smirks with pride. His brother may be drunk but he’s not stupid. Sam can play pool left handed or right handed. They trained themselves over the years how to use both hands in case their dominant hand becomes incapacitated somehow in the middle of a hunt. Always need a contingency plan when your life’s on the line.

“We’ll see about that,” the man growls, leering at Sam, eyes roaming his body up and down. That kind of scrutiny would have Dean wanting to shower and scrub himself raw; he can’t imagine how Sammy feels. “It’s prudes like you that beg for cock when it’s presented to them.”

That has Dean half standing, anticipating. He’s furious that anyone would say that to Sam. It has Dean’s skin crawling and the mark on his arm burning, begging for bloodshed. Dean wants to slit this man’s throat for even thinking of Sam that way. He wants to torture him and make him beg for Sam’s forgiveness.

He wants to bash his face in.

Sam shoves the guy’s shoulder and says, “Just play pool, man,” and Dean sits back down. The game resumes and Dean keeps a watchful eye as Sam fumbles his way through the game, drunk off his ass. Sam accepts drink after drink and Dean knows his little brother isn’t going to win this game with that much alcohol in his system, but he’s waiting until Sam actually needs help to step in.

“You’ve been alone for awhile, sugar. You waitin’ for someone?” a smooth woman’s voice says from his left. He looks up just as she’s sliding into the seat across from him and blocking his view of Sam and the guys he’s hustling. He needs to get her out of here fast.

“I’m just enjoying some time alone,” he replies, not trying to sound rude but wanting her gone.

Her smile is predatory when she asks, “Would you like some company?”

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he tries to sound remorseful but misses by a mile as he leans slightly to the right to try to get an eye on Sam.

She must notice he’s distracted because she turns her body slightly to the left and cranes her neck to see what Dean is looking at before turning back to him. “That tall glass of water, huh? It’s always the gorgeous ones,” she says wistfully with a shake of her head and winks at him as she gets up from her chair. “If you strike out, I’ll be at the bar, sugar.”

It had to be less than a minute between the time she looked at Sam and then left the table, but by the time Dean’s view cleared, Sam and the guys at the pool table were gone. Dean almost knocked over his chair in his haste to get up and find Sam. It was barely 11, and the past week Sam hadn’t been coming home until well after midnight. Last call was 1:30 but Sam has always been the type to leave well before last call to avoid being “one of those people,” he’d say. His little brother was such a nerd.

Sam’s a grown man. 32 years old and 6’4”, he shouldn’t need Dean’s protection, but that will never stop the big brother side of Dean from protecting his little brother. And now, with this mark burning into his arm, Dean’s more protective than usual. More agitated, angry. He’s itching to make someone hurt, someone bleed, and if tonight it happens to be some guys Sam beat at pool then so be it.

He bypasses the pool table they were hanging at -- the  drink Sam had been drinking rests on the edge of the table, condensation leaving a ring on the lacquered wood finish -- and heads for the hall leading to the bathroom. He stops at the sound of voices in the middle of an argument.

“I told you, nothing more nothing less,” Sam’s voice carries down the hallway and Dean waits, wanting to give Sam the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t see how many of the guys followed but even inebriated he knows Sam can hold his own. It’s just the protective part inside him that wants to beat this guy’s face in for thinking he can get something from Sam.

“I might’a let you go if you didn’t hustle me an’ my boys for all we got,” the man replies huskily. There’s a thud and Sam grunts. It sets Dean’s teeth on edge and makes his hand twitch for a blade. He peers around the corner and sees that Sam’s pressed against the wall by the man he was playing when Dean got to the bar, the other two that had been hanging around the pool table watching them play were flanking the two of them. Dean could only make out Sam’s shaggy head of hair. “Now we’re gonna take it out on your ass for all we lost.”

Sam tries to shove at the guy’s shoulders, says, “Just because I can outplay you in pool with my arm in a sling doesn’t mean I cheated. You just lack skill.”

It’s Sam’s smart mouth that Dean both loves and hates. His baby brother can be a huge pain in the ass with his book intelligence, but sometimes he lacks severe street intelligence. He wonders how often this has happened before; he’s going to have to have a talk with Sammy after he saves his ass, literally.

He has half a mind to let these guys fuck with Sam a little bit to teach him a lesson; give himself a better excuse to beat them half to death for touching his brother.

He wants to be Sam’s savior and then punish him accordingly, both for running away from him and for putting himself in deliberate danger.

He’s going to punish Sam regardless.

“Get off’a me!” Sam shouts, trying to shove harder, but he’s outnumbered and while Sam is tall and strong, these guys have more muscle mass on him and they just laugh as Sam struggles against them, his arm in the sling cradled against his chest. He can’t use all his strength because of the damn sling and his hurt elbow.

Being bitten by a vampire while Sam watches crosses his mind and he feels less inclined to jump in just yet, wanting to see how this plays out. Sam had no soul, he reminds himself, but at the same time… Dean feels like he doesn’t have a soul right now, too. Just dark thoughts swirling around in his head about his little brother and pain.

“Aw, come on, pretty boy,” another one of the men taunts, gripping Sam’s chin and turning him to face him. “Don’t be a prude. You look like you’re desperate to get fucked. Just turn around and we’ll make you feel good, baby.”

“No!”

Hearing this sleazeball call Sammy “baby” is enough for Dean. He steps away from hiding just as they’re turning Sam to face the wall, fiddling with Sam’s belt buckle as his little brother squirms in their grip.

“Let him go,” Dean growls.

“Mind ya own business, pal.”

“I said,” Dean speaks slow, as if talking to a child who broke the rules, “Let,” he steps closer, “Him go.”

“Dean,” Sam says, voice quivering both in fear of the men trying to have their way with him and possibly at Dean himself. Sam hasn’t looked Dean in the eye since Dean was cured; he’s been ducking out of the bunker before Dean can emerge from his bedroom, or the bathroom. Dean had been longing to catch Sam in the library again, reading a book, happy and comfortable like he used to be. But as far as he knows, Sam stays in his room, or leaves the bunker altogether to run away from Dean.

That stops now.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean says, “I’m here.”

“Listen, buddy,” the man that Sam beat speaks up again, “Find your own bitch, this one’s ours.”

Despite the burning of the mark, begging for Dean to slit the throats of these men, Dean actually laughs out loud. “You’re right,” he shrugs, a smirk growing on his face as he steps closer. “He is a bitch, but he’s my bitch, and I’m not going to let scumbags like you taint him.” He grabs the hair of the one who had grabbed Sam’s chin and yanks him away roughly. “If you don’t want to die today, let him go.”

“Alright, asshole--” The first guy releases Sam and lunges at Dean, who slams the guy he has by the hair face first into the wooden wall of the hallway next to the bathroom. He whirls around before the guy reaches him to throw a right hook into his chin, sending him flying back. The third guy releases Sam completely with a shout and lunges, too, but Sam sticks a foot back and trips him so he falls face first.

“Like I said,” Dean says with finality.

“Dean,” Sam repeats his name, looking at him fully. He still has fear showing in his face but Dean is just glad to hear his voice. “You--”

“Sammy,” he says softly, stepping over the man he knocked out with a right hook and pressing Sam back against the wall. He almost backs away when Sam’s beautiful hazel eyes flash with fear -- the last time he had Sam against a wall, he had a hammer and was going to kill Sam and Sam had a knife to his throat that Dean knew he wouldn’t use on him -- but he doesn’t. He holds his ground. “Sammy,” he repeats, raising a hand to caress his little brother’s alcohol flushed cheek. “I don’t want you doing this anymore.”

“Dean, I- I just needed time and--”

He doesn’t know why he does it -- actually, that’s a lie because he knows why he does it, he’s always wanted to do it -- but he leans in and kisses Sam, effectively quieting him. Sam gasps against his lips and accidentally grants access to Dean’s tongue. Dean holds Sam’s chin with one hand while the other trails downward and grips Sam’s hip to press it tightly to the wall, keeping him still. His hips follow soon after and press against Sam’s. He’s careful where they press together so he doesn’t put pressure on Sam’s hurt arm as he deepens the kiss.

Sam doesn’t fight. His free arm lifts up and he wraps his thin fingers into the collar of Dean’s shirt and pulls him closer. Dean smiles into the kiss before pulling away, says softly, “Come back home, Sammy,” and gives him another chaste kiss.

Sam goes home with him, riding shotgun in the Impala as he should. They’ll get the car Sam drove tomorrow. Tonight he’s going to punish Sam for running away, and then claim him like he should have done all those years ago.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

You’re not him; Jack Kline x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so SPOILER ALERT!!!! IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE PREMIERE EPISODE OF SPN THEN STOP RIGHT HERE AND GO WATCH IT BEFORE READING THIS FIC!!! If you have seen the episode then you can stay, so if you don’t want to be spoiled PLEASE. LEAVE. NOW!! 

So warning wise it’s the typical SPN warning; swearing, violence, zombies, ghosts, and there is a scene with kissing w/o consent (ALWAYS ASK BEFORE KISSING OR TOUCHING SOMEONE. CONSENT IS POWER!!) other than that, not really anything else. Hope you all enjoy this fic :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

________________________________________________________

Well we were screwed….no I don’t even think screwed is even the right word I would use right now.  Here we are trapped like rats in a crypt with a bunch of possessed zombies trying to break down the door.  As my brothers and Cas were trying to figure a way out of this place or how to stop those—things outside, I was on the ground touching Jack’s cheek.

Thanks to the bastard Chuck, Jack’s forever gone.  His eyes burned out and I knew that there was no coming back from that. This was all too much for me. Jack didn’t deserve something like this, no one did. Not Pamela, not Kevin, and certainly not Jack.

“Jack—” I muttered as I leaned my forehead against his chest.  Why must everything bad happen to those we care about? Just shortly before Lucifer stole Jack’s grace, the two of us admitted to each other while we were stuck in Apocalypse world with Mary that we started developing feelings for each other.

While he was fully human, I taught him the basic necessities on how to stay alive.  And from there we just—kinda grew closer to each other.  Even when he burned out his soul, he somehow made me still believe that he was in love with me.

Now he’s gone.

Suddenly I began to hear something.  Something from within the walls.  As my brothers kept arguing with each other, I pressed my ear to the wall.

“(Y/n)? (N/n).” Dean said.

“Guys I—I think there’s a pipeline in here.”

“Probably a sewage line.” Both Sam and Dean came up and Sam helped me stand back up while both he and Dean removed the concrete slab to reveal the brick structure underneath.  Using the iron pick they chipped away at the brick wall but suddenly coming out was a possessed corpse.

I jumped back screaming.  God I hate it when those things do that.  Cas then picked up the concrete slab and slammed it right on top of the corpse which killed it but the ghost that had it possessed took off flying.

“God I hate it when that happens!”

“You’ve been doing this since you were ten, how does that still scare you?” asked Dean.

“Hey give me a wendigo, vamp, werewolf, leviathan, whatever any day. But having something that just pops out, especially when they look like they’re from the Thriller music video, forget it!”

“Well so much for your pipe theory, now what do we do?”

“Hello.” No. It—it can’t be.  We all turned around and there stood Jack alive!

My heart stopped and I froze like a deer in headlight.

“Jack? You’re alive?” Sam asked in disbelief.  It can’t be, it just can’t be. Please anyone but god tell me this is a joke.

“That’s not Jack. It’s a demon.” Cas said. At that point, I was enraged. Okay making my older brother into one, and forcing my big brother into being the vessel of the devil himself is one thing, but no I repeat no demon should ever, ever possess Jack’s body.

“What?”

“Yeah.” The demon said using Jack’s voice. “Sorry about that.” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“How in the hell—”

“Look I just got here and I needed a body so—”

“So you are a demon.” Sam asked to confirm this was a demon and not one of those spirits that came out of hell.

“Yeah. I would do the whole eyes thing but—no eyes.” He then walked over towards my bag and pulled out the sunglasses he and I once bought for him when he and I had some downtime together a few months back before we hung out with those teens we saved from the psycho serial killer clown.

“Put those down!” I snapped.  Of course he ignored me and put the shades over his eyes and he said.

“Sorry but I gotta blend in.”

“Get out of him!” Cas sneered.

“Look I know it’s weird. Okay where do I start? Like the first day of school. Hi, uhh my name’s Belphegor I—” I snapped as I trudged up towards him, gripped him by the throat and pinned him against the wall holding my demon blade.

“Get. Out of him!”

“Ooo wow kitty’s got claws. I like that in a woman. I would wink but like I said—no eyes.”

“I’m not gonna ask you again you son of a bitch!”

“Look, hey I can get you out of here. I can help.”

“(Y/n).” Dean said to me trying to get me to get off this demon possessing my boyfriend’s corpse.

“No, I’m with (y/n) on this. He’s an abomination!” Cas said as he came up over my shoulder.

“You’re an abomination with that stupid, dumb trench coat.” I pressed the blade closer to the demon’s neck and I snarled at him.

“You don’t get to talk to him!”

“(Y/n) hey, hey okay back off! Back up!” Dean said as he came up and forced me off the demon.

“He’s defiling his corpse Dean! And you’re acting like you don’t even give a shit! What if this were Mary, huh?!”

“Hey listen to me She-wolf. Jack’s gone! Okay I know you don’t want to admit it yet but your boyfriend’s gone! Now I say we just listen to what he has to say, and if we don’t like it. Then you and Cas can stab him.”

“(Y/n),” Sam’s voice spoke up softly.  I turned towards him and he agreed with Dean. “He’s right. We need to get out of here.” I forced myself out of Dean’s grip and walked away and faced the wall.

“Whew, feisty. She available?”

“Hey focus back to right here!” Dean snapped.

“Right. Look I’m not a crossroads demon or one of those black eyed ones that ooze slime to take out virgins or puppies or—virgin puppies. I like my job, I check in a soul, torment it. Repeat. Simple basic eternity to eternity job. You want all those bad guys back where they came from right? Me too. I mean—we’re like twinses guys.”

“We are not twinses!” Cas snarled.

“Can you fix this?” asked Sam gesturing towards outside.

“Umm no. but I can get you out of here.”

“How?” asked Dean.

“A little spell. You know nothing major.” God he was such a pain in the ass with his cycling of nonchalant teasing. “See a little graveyard dirt, and some uhh angel blood.”

“Cas.” I turned and watched as Cas reluctantly cut his palm with his angel blade and allowed some blood to flow into the demon’s hand.

“Oh wait, one more thing; I also need a lock of hair from a beautiful girl.” Oh hell no!

“You’re making that part up.” Cas stated.

“Actually I’m not. I need the hair otherwise it won’t work.” I walked up to him and Cas said.

“(Y/n) wait, you don’t have to do it. You know he’s lying.”

“Cas I don’t like it as much as you do but—what if he is telling the truth?” he and I looked at each other before I walked right up to the demon possessing my boyfriend’s body.  He gave me Jack’s famed grin that once made me flutter and go weak at the knees.

“Well beautiful?” I took out my pocketknife and picked up a strand of my long hair. Then I cut a strand from underneath so that way no one would notice an uneven strand of hair.

I held the hair in my hands and hesitantly held it over Jack’s hand before finally placing it on top of the dirt and Cas’ blood.  Just before I could remove my hand from his palm, his hand closed over mine and he hummed.

“Mm, so soft. Fierce and calloused but very soft at the same time. Been awhile since I held a girl’s hand.” I quickly took back my hand and held it over my chest and turned away getting creeped out.  Cas protectively wrapped his arm around me as the demon then just held his arms out like he was about to do a chant.

But all he did next was clap his hands, the soil, blood and my hair fell to the ground. At first I thought it did nothing, that was until I heard nothing but silence outside.

“Huh.” He bragged.  I was the first to race outside and all there were around were dead corpses no longer possessed.

“Holy shit.” I muttered.

“Didn’t I tell you? It worked. High five.” Belphegor said.

“The spirits have been destroyed.” Cas said as he walked ahead.

“No, I just blasted them out of those bodies. Yeah.”

“So where the hell are they now?” asked Dean.

We were now in the car driving on home hoping to figure out a plan.  Thankfully Cas sat between me and the demon possessing Jack because all the while through the drive, I could feel his—well metaphorically speaking his eyes were on me.

“You know—you’ve got some good style taste there doll. I like ‘em.”

“Don’t call me doll.” I lowly muttered.

“Alright Romeo enough with the flirting back there. That’s our sister and I wouldn’t press her if I were you. You think we’re bad, she’s worse than us.” Dean spoke.

“Empty threats. Not to say that you’re not strong there doll. I mean—every female demons has envied you for the way you’ve been known to torture us. In fact some learn from you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”

“On that note explain to me this, how many souls are we talking about specifically?” asked Sam trying to drive the conversation away.

“What you mean in hell?” asked Belphegor as Sam nodded.

“Oh I don’t know 2-3 billion.” Great.

“Okay for now we just stick to the plan. We head back to the bunker. Figure a way to close the riff.” Dean said as he kept driving.

“If you can.” Said Belphegor.

“You got any better ideas?”

“I do not. But if you wanna buy some time, you could just—contain the ghosts.”

“How?” I asked.

“Magic.” He stated with a shrug.

“And you just happen to know the right spell?” asked Cas skeptically.

“Lucky you.”

“What do you mean by contain them?” questioned Dean.

“Magical circle about a mile wide. No ghosts get in, no ghost get out.”

“Yeah, great, great.”

“But Sam we can’t. Harland, Kansas is less than a mile from the cemetery. What are we gonna do about the people there?”

“We get them out.” Dean stated.  

“How?” asked Cas.

“We lie.”

As we drove on we soon found an abandoned car still running up ahead with its lights on.

“Whoa, whoa pull over for a second Dean.” Dean did as Sam suggested and we parked right behind the abandoned car.  My brothers and I got out of Baby and we shined out flashlights on the car.  

The first thing I noticed was the blood along the window, the radio was still playing but there was no body so this wasn’t your typical murder.  Yet for some reason this scene was very familiar to me.

“This look so familiar to you guys?” asked Dean.

“Looks like a—woman in white.” Said Sam.

“Exactly.” I remembered back on the first case after we got Sam out of Stanford of the woman in white.

“Guys….I think this is our woman in white.”

“No way we sent her to hell years ago.” Dean said.

“No think about it. God opens up the doorway to hell, every soul to ever go down there escapes. Including our woman in white.” I explained.

“But then that means if she’s back—” Sam stated off before Dean finished his brother’s thought.

“Then every last one we ever killed and sent down there is back.” Well that’s just great.

By morning, donning on our fake FBI uniforms, we headed for Harland and began to evacuate the city.

“Alright look (y/n). Sam and I got the evacuation part down, so why don’t you and Cas take Crowley Jr. and get him the things he needs.”

“Are you serious Dean?” I snapped. “Dean you—you really don’t care how this is making me feel do you? I—I can’t even look at him. I just—I just can’t…..” I took off down the street and he called out to me.

I sat down on a nearby bench and pressed my face into hands trying to contain my sobs but I could feel tears in my eyes.

“(Y/n).” I looked up to see Cas standing over me.  He sat down beside me and I said to him.

“If you’re—trying to make me go back there and make amends with Dean then uhh—” I looked around and found an abandoned half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “I’m about to hit you in the head with a PB&J sandwich.”

“No, no I—I get why you walked away from him. I—can’t even look at….you know. So I can’t imagine how it must be for you. After all you and Jack….”

“It may have seemed difficult to decipher our relationship especially when his soul completely burned out. But—somehow even in that soulless way, he still made me believe he was in love with me. I have no idea how but—he did. I just….feel like this is all my fault.”

“It wasn’t. The only person to blame for Jack’s death is God. All this time following his orders and commands, and this is how I’m repaid.”

“To be fair we did kinda make you turn against your traditionalist ways. I mean remember how you were back then.”

“Yeah I guess I did have a stick up my butt.”

“Not even a stick is big enough Cas to describe how stuck-up you were.” I teased which caused the two of us for the first time to actually laugh.  It was small but still a laugh.  “I just wish he was still here. Like here here, not some demon possessing him using his voice and doing those little quirks he did.”

“I know. So do I.” he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and hugged me close to him. “So do I. I promised his mom I would take care of him, now I feel like I let her down. Again.”

Eventually I went with Cas and Sam to do some evacuations.  I went to one house just three blocks from where Cas went.  Holding my shotgun close and ready to fire in case any ghosts came up, I called out.

“Hello? Anybody here?” I cautiously walked along the hallways leading towards the upstairs bedrooms.  But when I opened the door, I held in my puke for right there before me were two teenage girls around my age covered in blood, however most of the blood came from their eyes and I knew only one legend that ever made that happen.

Bloody Mary.

I quickly raced to find a nearby mirror.  It worked on her once before and it should work on her again.  But just as I went to grab the mirror that hung in the hallway, she suddenly appeared before me in my reflection then turned into me.

Blood started tearing down my face as I couldn’t look away now.  She had me.

“Been a long time Winchester sister. And in all that time you’ve become a killer, just like your brothers. All those people you’ve helped kill, Kevin, Charlie, Bobby, but worst of all precious Jack. It’s your fault all this happened to him. If he hadn’t liked you, he’d still have his grace.”

“Shut up……shut up!” I soon felt this agonizing pain as I collapsed into the table and she soon came out of the mirror repeating over and over that it was my fault, my fault, my fault.

“Hey.” Oh shit it—it couldn’t be him. I looked up and through the blood that had dripped down from my eyes, I could see Jack’s body standing before us.  Bloody Mary turned into Jack and said.

“You’re a true monster. Killing Sam and Dean Winchester’s mother. Releasing the archangel Michael, it’s all your fault.”

“Yeah sorry there Mary but,” he lifted his shades revealing the burnt out holes in them. “Plus I’m not this guy uhh—Jack. So you might as well hit the road bitch cause honestly out of all the legends you were the worst, and as a demon I don’t mean in the good way.” Mary phased back into herself and launched at the demon but he held up a mirror before her.

And just like last time, her reflection spoke back to her which killed her right then and there.  The mirror shattered and the demon shook the glass off of him.

“That bitch is gonna have it in for me when I get back. Lucky for her, I’ve got something up my sleeve for her for leaving hell in the first place.” Slowly I got up and wiped the blood out of my eyes. “Red looks good on you.” I growled and steadied myself up along the wall. “What? No thank you for saving your ass?”

“Not from you. Had it been Cas or Sam I would thank them. But not to creeps like you.”

“Aww c’mon babe after all the fun we had last night?”

“That was for the spell only and you know it! Now did you find your ingredients for the spell? Does Dean even know you left him?”

“Technically no. See for whatever reason I found myself here and I could hear you screaming….well bloody Mary up here so I figured might as well save one Winchester, maybe their cute sister and maybe get on a better side with you and the others.”

“Saving my life doesn’t atone for what you are.” I said as I cleaned my face up in the bathroom.

“Why so stuck on me? It’s not like I had a choice. This body was the nearest one I could find. I would’ve found another back at the cemetery but those meat suits were well you know. Wormy. Difficult to blend. I sorta got an answer from your brother but I wanna hear your side now. Who was he to you?”

I turned the tap off and stared at him through the mirror.  I dabbed my eyes with a towel and muttered.

“He was a friend.”

“Ahh there it is.”

“What’s there?” I demanded.

“See down there,” he pointed downward gesturing to hell. “You may be praised for your fighting skills and some torture methods. But you are laughed at for your lying skills. I mean I know there’s some truth to it, but I know there’s gotta be more.”

He then slowly walked closer towards me as he continued.

“So c’mon just between us. Was he—Your confidant? Your secret keeper?” he now stood almost chest to chest with me as he now had me up against the vanity counter. “Your boyfriend?” at that my breath hitched sharply. “Ahhh, ding-ding. Seems I’ve found a winner?”

“So what if he was? Just because you have his body and use his voice to talk, doesn’t mean that you’re him. So stop with the flirtation and just—” suddenly I felt his lips on mine.

I almost lashed out but I was suddenly hit back to the time Jack and I shared our first kiss in Apocalypse world.  Jack had just performed another puppet show for the kids, we told them an epic tale of a young warrior searching across the galaxy to eventually become a great warrior (Star Wars).

After getting all the little ones to bed, Jack and I just stayed up and talked and that’s when I leaned in and kissed him.  At first I regretted it because he just sat there in shock, but when he kissed me back I threw my regret out the window and just accepted the kiss.  And ever since then, we’ve been a couple.

I felt Jack’s hands cup underneath my chin just as he always placed them whenever we kissed.  I tried to resist but I guess this is what I needed for long.  Ever since his soul got burned out, his kisses didn’t hold the same feeling of love as they had compared to our first kiss.

Wait—what the fuck are you doing (y/n)?! You’re kissing a demon! A bloody demon! I whined and pushed him away from me and I slapped him in the face.

“Never. Kiss me. Again!” I snarled.

“Oh yeah like I haven’t heard that before.” He teased.

“I’m serious. Whatever you think is happening between us, forget it! Now get your stuff for the spell and get out of my sight!”

“As you wish. My sapphire star.” My heart stopped as he actually used the nickname Jack gave me.  I turned back around and saw that he was gone.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!” soon running up the stairs was Cas. “I heard you screaming as I got closer to the house, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I’m fine.” He cupped my face before saying.

“Your eyes are bleeding.”

“Oh right I—I had a little reunion with bloody Mary. But I handled it.” It was best not to tell Cas about the demon coming to save me, since I really had no real father figure in my life Cas has kinda filled in that role after getting him to loosen up a bit and hanging around us humans for a while.

“Does anything else hurt?”

“Well I’ve got a splitting headache.”

“Here.” He placed his two fingers to the center of my forehead and I felt this warmth come over me.

“Thanks Cas.”

“No problem. Come on Sam might need us.” I nodded and the two of us headed outside.

After reuniting with my brother and saving a mother and daughter from the killer clown as well as some other ghosts that popped out.  We saw this bright light suddenly rushing across the ground like the tide coming out.

“The spell.” I said.  The ghosts all glared at us and took chase.

“Run! Run get them out of here!” Sam urged us.  I picked up the kid and took off running down the street.  Once we got to across a certain path of the road, the ghosts stopped and psycho clown couldn’t reach us with his knife.  He growled before yelling at us before my brother finally told him to shut up.

“It’s done. They can’t get out now.” I said.

“C’mon we gotta get to the high school.” Sam said as we now walked calmly out of the neighborhood to meet up with Dean and Balthagar.

After getting the mom and daughter to the high school five miles away, I was leaning against the wall of the high school when I felt two familiar hands cover my eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Enough.” I elbowed him in the chest.

“Ow! Hey I thought we had something back in the bathroom?”

“I already told you, you may wear Jack’s body but you aren’t him. You even touch me again, and I’ll let you see firsthand why demons down there probably talk about me.”

“Ohhh, kinky. I look forward to it.” He flirted.  I glared at him and walked away from him.  I came up to my brothers who were looking inside Baby’s trunk.

“Did he just cover your eyes playing the guess who game you and Jack used to do?” asked Dean.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I told him bluntly.  He looked towards Belphegor and he said.

“Listen, if he tries to flirt with you in anyway talk to us, okay. I—I had a talking to with Cas and he set me right. I should’ve been more understanding of what all this has meant to you (n/n) I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. All of this really has gone to shit. I mean not just the souls of hell being free but God literally screwing us over. I mean—guys pardon my French but…..we are in some serious horse shit.”

“She’s right. I mean yeah we can keep up the lie for what 1 maybe 2 days before the real FBI shows.” Sam agreed with me.  We already had two encounters with law enforcement we don’t need a third strike.

“Yeah I figured. But right now we need to get you fixed up.” Dean said gesturing to Sam’s shoulder.  Of course stubborn as an ox Sam Winchester refused but with Dean’s persuasion he managed to talk Sam into showing him the bullet wound he telepathically got after shooting God.

It wound itself looked like it was about to close up but when Dean said there was no exit wound, I got a little worried.

“Hey you remember when you were little, and how I used to always distract you? You know when it involved a band-aid or something like that?” Dean asked as he got the rubbing alcohol out and poured it onto a cotton patch.

“Yeah you—used to tell some stupid joke. You even did it for the munchkin there.”

“Don’t go there green giant.” I mocked.

“Knock, knock.” Sam at first turned away like it was a joke. “Come on knock, knock.”

“Who’s—” before he could say there, Dean placed the patch on his bullet wound.

“Still got it.” Dean praised himself with a grin.  I shook my head and I said nervously.

“Hey guys,” they turned towards me and I continued, “So—when Chuck said welcome to the end…..do you think he meant this? I mean by like—ending the entire human race with ghosts, demons, and all that?”

“Baby girl you know as well as I do he’s been playing us the entire time. So screw him.” Dean said.

“I know but….think about it. If one of us dies, that’s it. We’ve been lucky in the past but now that he’s pissed at us. He’s gonna ensure that no one or nothing brings us back. No resurrections this time. I may not look it but—I’m terrified guys.” Sam being the caring brother that he is, wrapped his arms around me in a big bear hug and I continued. “We’re nothing but rats to him. And now that he’s had his fun, he’s gonna ensure that we end up in the pathway with furious cats ready to devour us. While he just sits back and watches us being ripped apart.”

“Yeah nothing but rats in a maze. Sure we could go left, sure we could go right. But we were stuck in the damn maze. It makes you think—what did all of it mean?” Dean said agreeing with me.

“It meant a lot.” Sam answered. “We still saved people, saved you kiddo.” Sam said looking down at me.

“But what for?” I asked.  He stroked down my hair.  “He just throws us one end of the world after another and sits back just to make us do all the hard work.”

“Yeah. That’s what he does. He gets bored and-and-and-and pulls the rip-chord. That’s what he did with Apocalypse world, and probably….. with all of them. He moves on and starts another story. And you know what—good. Because if he bailed it’s just us. For the first time; it’s just us.”

“You forgot the 3 billion ghosts there Sammy.” I said.

“Yeah well what’s one more apocalypse right?” I softly laughed and shook my head. Sam patted my back comfortingly as he separated from me. “But seriously. If we win—when we win this. God’s gone. There’s no one to screw with us, there’s no more maze, it’s just us. Then we’re free.”

“So you, me and (n/n) versus every soul in hell……I like those odds.”

“Yeah. Me too.” The boys looked at me and Dean asked me.

“(N/n)?” I looked at them.  I sighed deeply before saying.

“Well….I guess you know what this means, right boys?” they softly grinned at me and we turned towards Baby’s trunk as Sam said.

“We’ve got work to do.” Before closing it up.