#of course there are scenes of him shielding people with his force field too but I think from what I've noticed he uses his body more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

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Milkshakes

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Overwhelmed when Loki saves you, you respond to his kindness with fear. Determined to apologize, you seek Loki out to thank him with a couple of milkshakes and some fries. Warnings: a tad angsty but much fluff A/N: This is actually one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. Hope you all enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

Of course it had to be during your lunch break that a supervillain attacked the city. Of course today you decided to go out to eat instead of packing something. And, of course you had to be walking by the building right as it crumbled. You started praying to any god that there may be to save you from being crushed. Though, you hadn’t actually expected one to save you.

In the moments before you would have been flattened, Loki put an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. Raising his free hand, a glimmering green force field appeared around you. The falling matter bounced off of it and landed around you, the shield offering strong protection. Of course you were thankful to be rescued, but did have to be Loki? You knew he was supposedly reformed, but so many news outlets still ran stories about how he was dangerous. A ticking time bomb. You’d never quite formed an opinion on him, and it was causing great conflict in you now. On the one hand, he looked very intimidating from this close, what with his impressive stature and horned helmet and all. But on the other, he was saving you from the actual super villain destroying the city. Perhaps if there wasn’t so much going on, you could think more clearly. Alas, your thoughts were a messy, confused jumble, leaving you fearful of the super-powered god in front of you.

“Are you alright?” he asked in his deep, smooth accent as the shield shimmered away into nothing. The god brought his arm to shield your eyes from the small pieces of debris still falling, the other one still around your waist in a protective manner. “Are you injured at all?

“I, um, uh, I- I,” you stammered, backing up. “Mhm. All good. Uhhh, thanks.”

You were certain you must be the most awkward person in history, but instead of making fun of you, Loki just looked sad. Even with the hurt behind his eyes, his arms shot out to catch you when you stumbled over the wreckage. He guided you away from the obstacles to a place where you could walk unhindered. He moved back from you as soon as he’d finished escorting you.

“You are welcome,” he finally responded. “I am sorry for frightening you. You should get somewhere safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he left to rejoin the battle. You started retreating from the scene, steering as clear of any large structures as you could, cursing yourself the whole time. Loki had saved you, and you’d been afraid of him. What kind of nonsense was that? And you were certain he got that kind of reaction all the time, based on the way he’d looked at you and realized your bumbling actions were a result of fear. Fear of him after he’d so carefully and gently saved you.

You felt stupid and petty as you joined a throng of people being guided away from the scene. After nearly two years of working to protect the city, Loki should have gotten more praise and love than he did. You realized it now, only moments too late. Someone should tell him he was appreciated, a hero. And if no one else was going to do it, you resolved to do it yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was dreadfully boring, but someone had to go. Seeing as all the other Avengers were busy, that someone was Loki. Besides, Stark had told him it would be good for his image to head up the restoration of the city this time round. The committee and resources were all a part of Stark Industries, of course, so Loki felt there should be some employee to take care of it instead of him. But whatever, he’d been roped into it now, and he figured that there was some merit to what Tony has said about his reputation.

Luckily, with a week having passed since the battle, great headway had been made with the repairs, and the meeting was much shorter than expected. Itching to get outside, Loki headed to the main doors.

“You don’t understand,” Loki heard someone say to the receptionist as he approached the front desk. “He saved me the other day. I have to thank him. Please?”

Loki just rolled his eyes as he pushed through the turnstile. He couldn’t even begin to count how many fans had tried this tactic to meet their favorite Avengers. Granted, no one had ever tried to see him, but he was coming to terms with it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder which of his colleagues you were trying to get through to see. Perhaps Steve, or maybe even Thor. Loki was so lost in thought it barely even registered when the voice switched from pleading with the receptionist to calling after him.

He turned and stopped, recognizing the person jogging after him as you, who he remembered from the battle. “May I help you?” he asked in the most pleasant tone he could manage.

“Yeah. Uh, hi. I don’t know if you remember, but you saved me the other day,” you explained sheepishly. “You know, during the attack.”

“Yes, I recall.”

“Oh! Good. I just wanted to say thank you for that. For saving me, I mean. And the city.”

“I see,” the god replied, suspiciously raising an eyebrow. “Well then, you are welcome. Really, I was just doing my job, though.”

“Well, I still appreciate it.” There was a lapse in the conversation, as neither of you were really sure what to say next. “Can we go somewhere? Like for coffee or something. Can I buy you a coffee?”

Oddly enough, that made Loki distrust the situation even more. Ok, maybe you were actually a super nice person who had a guilty conscience for making him feel bad, and maybe that prompted you to come thank him properly. But that you wanted to buy him something, presumably to show your newfound appreciation? Absolutely preposterous. The only people who ever did something remotely as kind as that were his fellow Avengers, and not even all of them or particularly often. Any of the other people who openly supported him didn’t show appreciation, per se. It was more that they felt he’d done enough to redeem himself at this point, which wasn’t exactly the most thrilling phrasing either. But here you were, awkwardly shuffling your feet and asking to buy him coffee. Loki supposed he shouldn’t pass such an opportunity up. And yet, he probably was going to.

“No thank you,” he finally replied, shaking himself from the shocked, catatonic state he’d fallen into. “I do not much like coffee.”

As he walked away, he thought that would be the end of it. That perhaps you’d only been talking to him in the hopes he’d invite you to see the other Avengers, too. That maybe you’d go back to trying to wheedle your way inside at the front desk. Much to his surprise, you came hurrying after him.

“Wait,” you called. “Ok, so scratch the coffee. How about ice cream or tea or a milkshake or something? Anything really, you name it.”

Now that you were outside, he observed you again while he thought, as if hoping the sunlight would reveal your true intentions. He couldn’t find anything malicious in your expression, just some sort of anxiety. Loki must have taken too long in coming to a decision, because you started rambling.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to pressure you into it or anything, but I wanted to do something nice to say thank you and-” you cut off and bit your lip. “Is this stupid? It sounds stupid. It’s probably stupid. I’ll go now. Again, I’m really sorry to have bothered you.”

“One moment,” he said before you could make your retreat. “You said anything I want, correct?” You eagerly nodded as Loki got an idea. “Alright then. I would like a five course meal at the nicest restaurant in London, please and thank you.”

“I, um. I know I said anything but, uh...” You noticed his serious expression had turned into a sly grin. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. My apologies, but I simply could not resist,” he chuckled.

You began to laugh, too. Not in a way that made him think it was out of courtesy or pity, but an honest to goodness laugh. Briefly, he thought it one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard, before quickly shaking the idea from his mind. It was ridiculous; he hardly even knew you. But you seemed pretty adamant on showing your gratitude. Plus, you’d apologized to him, which was more than he could say for most of the people in his life.

“You know, I would usually say tea, but a milkshake actually sounds quite lovely right now,” he told you once you’d calmed down. “That is, if the offer is still open.”

“Of course it is!” you happily told him, the smile on your face growing. Not to mention you seemed much more at ease. “I actually know a great diner that’s just a short walk from here, if that works for you.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

It took approximately ten minutes to get to the restaurant. After properly introducing yourselves, you kept up a light dialogue. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly; just hesitant, as if both of you were afraid of saying the wrong things and shattering the blissful moment. Loki still couldn’t bring himself to fully trust you. Such a feeling just wasn’t in his nature, especially not when it came to someone he just met and had a considerably rocky start with. Even so, he found himself enjoying your company.

Arriving at the diner, Loki held the door open for you as you walked in. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for a seat, the classic red stools at the bar free at this time of the afternoon. Loki swiveled the seat back and forth ever so slightly, and found himself chuckling when he caught you doing the same thing. You offered him a shy smile as a waitress handed the both of you a menu.

The God of Mischief had only ever had the pleasure of drinking a milkshake once before, a vanilla one when the team had convinced him to try it on one of their outings. He’d thoroughly enjoyed it and planned on playing it safe by ordering the same thing now. When you asked what he was getting, though, you were having none of that. After nearly five minutes of rousing debate, you’d finally talked him up to chocolate. Part of him was having so much fun with the discussion and how animated you became about the topic that he almost didn’t want to concede. But the waitress came back to take your orders, and he didn’t want to make her leave and come back again.

“Oh, and some French fries too please,” you added after ordering your favorite milkshake.

Loki shot you a perplexed look. “French fries?” he asked after the waitress moved away.

“Yeah. Please tell me you’ve heard of them before.”

“I have. I have even eaten them a few times before, believe it or not,” he answered as you turned to face him, leaning on the counter. “But are you certain they go with a milkshake?”

Your jaw dropped open. “Of course they do. Listen, Loki, you haven’t lived until you’ve dipped French fries in a milkshake. You’ll love it, I promise.”

You continued to help him expand his knowledge of Midgardian cuisine as you waited for your order to come. Once it arrived, you dipped a fry in your shake, just as you had said, trying to convince him just how delicious it truly was. The trickster skeptically picked one up and mimicked your actions, plunging it into the frothy liquid. The second it hit his tongue, his face lit up in pure delight.

“See, I told you,” you laughed.

“Indeed you did,” he said back, the corners of his eyes crinkling from how wide his smile was.

An hour and another order of fries later, the two of you finished your snack. Loki was in a better mood than he’d been all month. Honestly, he was a little sad when the bill came.

“Are you certain you do not want me to pay?” he checked as you fished out a twenty from your wallet to cover the low-cost meal. “Or we could split it, at least.”

“Loki, it’s fine,” you giggled. “This is me thanking you, remember? And, honestly, it’s me apologizing, too. I was just startled the other day and there was a lot going on. I hadn’t ever really thought about what I’d do if I met an Avenger, least of all if it happened while they were saving my life. I was overwhelmed; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about yourself or anything.” Without really thinking about it, your hand moved to rest on top of his. It was a surprise to Loki, but a welcome one. “Because—and I can say this with absolute certainty—you’re amazing, Loki. You do so much for the city. I hope you know how appreciated you are, at least by me.”

His other large hand came to cover yours. “Thank you, darling.” He didn’t mean to say the pet name, but it just slipped out. “I cannot express how much that means to me.”

Somewhere in his heart, he wanted to tell you everything, make you privy to all his inner turmoil. But that was buried underneath years of pain and rejection, too heavy to move for someone he didn’t know all too well, no matter how connected he felt to you in this moment. So he let the urge pass over him, hoping his thanks would be sufficient enough in expressing how he felt.

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you told him, squeezing his hand. Then you stood up. “So, I guess I’ll be letting you get on with your day then. This was really nice, though. Thanks for agreeing to it.”

“You’re welcome and thank you,” he replied. “It really was.”

After waving goodbye to each other, you exited and Loki stayed where he was, picking at the last few nubs of fries left in the basket. He didn’t know exactly why he didn’t leave, too. Just that something was missing.

“Ah, young love,” the elderly waitress who had been serving you all day said to Loki as she came to collect the empty dishes. “Magical, isn’t it?”

“Love?” Loki choked out. “I am afraid you are quite mistaken. It was not even a date. I hardly even know them. I will probably never even see them again.”

“And you’re just gonna let them walk out?” she tsked. “It’s a right shame, sonny. Let me tell you, you don’t just let something like that walk out on ya.”

He looked at the door for a second in melancholic contemplation before bolting out after you. He shouted his thanks to the waitress as he pushed open the glass door, exiting out into the harsh sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, they scanned for your form before it walked out of his life forever. Spotting you, he jogged in your direction and called your name. Funny, he thought, how just earlier that day the roles had been reversed.

“Loki?” you asked, stopped on the sidewalk as he caught up to you. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“Actually, the problem is what did not happen.” He kicked a rock with his shoe, as suddenly the ground became very interesting to him. His insides were a nervous mess. Clearing his throat, he gathered his courage to continue. “See, I do not have any way of contacting you again. And it had been my sincere hope that you would want to do this again, let me take you out somewhere.”

“That sounds amazing,” you agreed, jotting down your number on an old receipt you’d found in your wallet. Smirking, you parroted back his words from earlier. “How about you take me for a five course meal in London?”

“Oh, so you have turned my own jokes against me. How very clever of you,” he laughed. “What if we just went to see a movie, instead?”

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Just text me a time and place, and I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it. As soon as I buy the tickets, I shall let you know.”

“Sounds awesome! It’s a date.”

As you parted ways, for real this time, it registered in Loki’s mind what you’d said. He hadn’t particularly been thinking about his phrasing or in what way he was asking you to hang out. But apparently you’d taken it as an invitation for a date. As Loki arrived back at the Tower and flopped onto his bed, already dreaming of your laugh, he found he was quite happy that you had.

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l4verq · 4 years ago

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fight back | b.b

bucky barnes x enhanced!reader

in which bucky won’t lay a hand on you no matter what :(

tags : a little brawl, fluff cause icanthelpmyself, mentions of blood, john walker (idk if we're supposed to like him now ??) bucky is a cat lady okk

fic : one shot

a/n : inspired by that scene in the final ep of tfatws when karli is screaming at sam to fight back lol😳

|| gif by @unearthlydust ||

one world, one people.

you repeat it in your head one more time, when he comes into view, vibranium gleaming onyx with loops of gold.

you know that he knows you’re here, back to the wall a few feet away, peeking at him.

he doesn’t know that you let him know.

doesn’t know that you laid out a trap and just like the foolish mouse, he walked right into the lion’s den.

although you’re not sure who the fool actually is, when you meet his eyes, knees almost buckling at the sight just cause of how long it’s been without them.

“y/n.” he breathes out, almost in disbelief.

it’s been fourteen months since he woke up to an empty bed and a handwritten goodbye letter folded in a clean white envelope, tucked under a pillow still marked by the soft indentation of your head.

fourteen months since you took off in the dead of night, pulling your- his hood over your head, the cold wind nipping at your skin, almost like it was punishing you.

maybe, it saw what you did.

oh, but fred definitely saw what you did, that damn cat always followed you two around even though it’s owner was the blonde next door. her name wasn’t even fred, bucky came up with it after the third time it snuck into the apartment.

he swore he hated it but always seemed to have a treat lying around in case it did come.

and it did, a lot. neglected by it’s owner, it chose to seek comfort in the couple next door, and sometimes a meal or two.

“sorry, no treat today bub.”

fred scowled - honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if an actual human was living in it - mewling as it came up to you for the usual chin rubs and cooes.

you sighed, caving into it’s antics, squatting to pet it.

cradling it’s head into your palm, she was purring, a very uncommon sight. fred doesn’t purr, she scratches and hisses at anything and everything that moves.

“you’re particularly nice today.” you commented, getting up. it mewled even louder this time but you turned on your heels and headed for the stairs.

you were already late.

your legs picked up pace quickly, easily crossing multiple blocks over in a few long strides owing to the blue serum coursing through your veins.

though your mind remained stationary, fixated on a single face, how it’d crumble at the sight of the letter, how he’d probably end up hating you.

“took you long enough.”

her auburn locks were tied into a loose braid that curved around her neck, the tip sat just below her collarbone, a piss poor job held together by a thin maroon colored band.

it was quintessentially her, the lack of utter patience to spend two minutes looping three knots of hair one over the other.

you jogged over to the other side of the black suv, noticing a stark white rectangle where a liscence plate should be.

“he’s knocked out cold,” you asked as soon as you grabbed the door handle open, “how?”

lazropthalein.

it came in the mail in a brown package, no return address. bucky wasn’t home, he had a scheduled therapy session down the block.

just a pinch is enough.

the text from the unknown number read.

it had no odour, a clean, white colour to it that blended in seamlessly with the flour.

“you baked without me?” bucky gasped, dramatically, hand covering his gaping mouth. his other hand carried two plastic bags, filled to the brim, a purple razor was poking out the top.

he even had to drop the poor bags on the floor, just to emphasize the utter shock he felt.

“i got bored.” you giggled, wiping the countertop with a wet cloth, remnants of flour on the sleek marble turning goopy under it.

“traitor.”

“it’s just cupcakes.”

“still a cake.”

you sighed, “you’re a five year old.”

he huffed, trudging towards the living room, shoulders hunched to really hone in on just how devastating this was for him.

“don’t i get a hug?” you held your arms out, making grabby hands, following him.

apparently, the devastation was to the point where he had to bring out the big guns, the sad baby blues.

the act lasted for another minute? at best. hours later, he was happily munching away.

“i know why it tastes so good.” he moaned, smacking his lips.

your smile faltered a little, did he kn- no, there’s no way he could have known. you burned that little plastic bag as soon as you dumped a pinch in.

“yea?”

he grinned, popping the last bit left in “it was made with your love.”

“how did it work?” your voice rose several octaves higher, amplified further by the cool, silent night.

drugs and sedatives don’t work on supersoldiers yet a certain blue eyed one was back home, unmoving even if you screamed right into his ears.

“dr wilfred, he invented it. the power broker wanted something to balance out our,” she flared her hands at both of you, “super-soldierness, so that we don’t have an upper hand when all’s said and done.”

would the either of you even be alive when all was said and done?

“look, i know you didn’t want to do this but james, he won’t understand. he’s not one o-..”

“yea, can we jus- let’s just get out of here.” you get in beside her, whipping the seatbelt over your torso.

the car was stuffy, felt like a choke around your neck that only seemed to tighten more and more.

“if we go now, there’s no coming back.” she glances at you, hand curled over the gearstick ready to position it in place.

she was giving you an out, one last chance. karli was a lot of things and having a heart inside that cold, bitchy exterior was one.

“i know.”

you sunk deeper into your seat, the hoodie had a faint smell of burnt toast and that cologne which was on sale, almost half off if you cut out the taxes.

it smelled like him, too much like him.

until it didn’t after a few days. but you still slept with it, just outright refusing to wash it despite karli’s snarky remarks about hygiene.

hygiene could go fuck herself, for all you know.

compared to the motels and basements you guys shifted around in, that hoodie was a doctor’s scrubs.

when the moon hung low on the black sky, you tried not to think about him too much. the silence didn’t help, you needed something to drown out your thoughts. that’s when the ‘socialising’ with the other flag smashers started. they were nice.

nice cause you were the leader’s little sister. but also a huge fucking liability because of a certain supersoldier hot on their heels in search of you, ruining every goddamn plan so their niceness was.. limited.

karli was a natural when it came to it, all of it. the talking, rallying of supporters - fuck, she just had a way with words. she could make you believe she hung up the stars in the sky.

probably how she convinced you that holding a room chock full of council members hostage right smack in the middle of nyc was a good idea.

the only idea, more precisely.

you guys had the upper hand, more than a handful supersoldiers at your disposal, capable of taking down the entire military force if you so pleased.

the only playing card they had was one supersoldier, who was better off distracted, kept off the field.

so who better to send to do the deed than the love of his life.

“fred had a baby. multiple babies, spawn of the devil if you ask me. always running around, thrashing the place up.” he takes small steps towards you, slow and calculated, as if a lion stalking around a prey.

“you shouldn’t be here.” you lie through your teeth, a tiny white compared to the ones that’ve rolled off your tongue before.

“i think the neighbours call me a cat lady now,” his eyes shift around and he leans in to whisper, “they haven’t even seen my knitting skills yet.”

“stop.” you think you said it or much rather whispered it, your voice was failing you. he’s getting close, too close for your liking so why aren’t you backing away from him?

“fred misses you, you know. she wonders where you went.” he smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

the hairs on your neck shoot up, a slight twitch of your brow. the way bucky’s ear perk up, you realise it’s not just you and him here anymore.

someone else has arrived.

“i’ve got it handled, john.” bucky turns around, plants him directly infront of you, blocking john’s view of you.

sure enough, it’s john limping in, a nasty gash across his chest.

your blood runs cold because this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

john isn’t supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be fighting.. oh god. you notice the various splatters of blood on his cowl, on his boot, on his shield.

it’s too much blood from a guy who’s barely bleeding.

“really? i was thinking you should do more than just talk.” he spits on the ground and wipes his mouth.

you notice, the spit’s all blood too.

“i’m giving you a chance to walk away, right now.”

john snorts, leaning sideways to get a view of you, neck craned out.

“and leave this prize all to yourself?” he grins, “i’d be an idiot.”

“you have a death wish then.” you lift your chin a little higher, praying your quickening heartbeat doesn’t give away your calm exterior.

john whistles, grimacing as he straightens, “so, she does talk.”

you scowl, crossing your arms.

he’s in bad shape. he has no chance, not that he ever did even in his best shape. he knows that too yet he’s still here. that sends a chill up your spine.

“go, i got this.” bucky tips his head, glancing at you.

“i don’t need you to save me.” you hiss at him, which comes out a little harsher than you intended. an apology dies in your throat as he flinches just the slightest.

“trouble in paradise?” john’s barely finished saying it before he’s reached behind his back and swinging the vibranium

you hear it before you see it stopped mid air by a gloved hand. then you charge.

it’s all a hazy mix of blue and red until your fist connects with his jaw, sound of something breaking ringing in your ear.

something pulls your waist back, a grip far too strong to be just flesh.

“go, i’ll ta-..” bucky’s barely said anything before an upward cut from john connects to his neck, violent coughs ensuing.

you grip john’s arm before he’s even retracted it back, jump up his back, settling around his neck and twist until you hear a crack and a bloodcurling scream following suit.

he whips his head back right into your stomach, seizes that moment when the wind knocks out of you to pull you by your hair off him.

“i told you to go.” bucky growls, kicking john right in the shin that makes him kneel and you almost fall off but you keep your fingers tightly looped around john’s hair, pulling as hard you can.

but he’s relentless.

your head hits something hard and you realise you’re on the ground now, legs loosely around john’s shoulders, him also on the ground.

it’s like the both of you realise at the same time but you’re quicker. your legs tighten around his neck, against the spot where a thick neck muscle throbs. he claws desperately around, straining for oxygen

soon, his hands lull down, the dull thud on the ground confirming his unconsciousness.

“are you hurt?” bucky’s hovering over you, seemingly unfazed by john’s neck in a chokehold by your legs right now.

you reject his hand he extends and push yourself off the gravelly concrete on to your feet.

“this was a mistake.” you trail off, saying it more to your own self.

you weren’t the lion, you were the stupid fox who thought it was.

stupid enough to believe you were over bucky and that everything wouldn’t come rushing back as soon as you laid eyes on him.

he whips you around by your hand and before you know it, he’s already caught your other fist heading for his sternum. you barely feel the grip, it’s soft, just so incredibly soft and fits so right.

you hate it.

rage bubbles inside you, mostly at yourself. partly at him because he’s not screaming at you or slamming you against the wall or jus- anything.

you wrench your hand away, land a swing which he does nothing to block. his grip on your other hand loosens and he still does nothing when another hit to the jaw leaves him staggering,

instead, he looks at you softly as if resigning himself to your anger, to let it simmer off.

“fight back!” you scream, outstretched palms pushing him back.

he stumbles a few steps back, hands reaching out to yours resting on his chest, fingers intertwining yours tightly.

“stop.” it’s a soft plead, tears spiking the corners of his eyes.

“hit me!” you’re practically begging at this point, thrashing your arms around.

his hands grapple at your shoulders, bringing you to his chest, “it’s okay.”

he smells so sweet, just so sweet that you almost believe him.

“i drugged you and i left you and i-,” you inhale sharply, “i killed so many people, bucky.”

the last fourteen months had escalated quickly from doing what’s right to doing what’s needed, lines blurred between moral ethics and survival.

“it’s okay.” he repeats, hand patting your hair, gentle and soothing. your body betrays you, sinking into his touch, his warmth.

“you should hate me.” you whimper.

you wouldn’t blame him if he did. you doubt he could hate you more than you already did yourself.

he pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “i couldn’t if i tried.”

god, why does he have to be so.. bucky?

frustated, you spit out, “this? this was a distraction to separate you and sam.”

you don’t say it but it’s understood, understood that you wouldn’t have met him if not for it.

the inner corners of his brows angle up slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “i know.”

your breath hitches, if he knows then wh-

“then, why..?”

you finally look up at him, vision blurry because of the stupid tears pooling at your eyes.

his thumb wipes away a tear dribbling down your cheek, the coldness of the metal a clear contrast to the warm moisture, “you know why.”

a/n : this one’s been sitting pretty, collecting cobwebs in my drafts so thought i’d take it out lol, also haven’t been posting fics in a whileeee cause im dumb and i’ve been working on multiple things all at once lol yea this is me rambling and also i just wanna say that i. love. folklore. sm. that whole album has me crying and sad and just :((

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #fatws bucky #fatws #flag smashers #marvel #mcu

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bleufrost · 3 years ago

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There's Just Time (A Loki x reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: We've Met Before

Summary: You were an explosion waiting to happen who found love in the arms of a hurricane. Loki saw you as an angel that calmed his demons. For you, he was a savior that taught you to trust your abilities, yourself, and others. When he died, you were broken. You clung to any hope possible and watched as it all fell away. With nothing left, stories from your youth flooded back of a mysterious force that controlled time and space, and you knew that you would do anything to see him again...even if that something meant teaming up with the Time Variance Authority to capture the man you love.

A series of murders catch Mobius' eye. A familiar face catches yours.

Words: 3,118

Warnings: grief, mentions of self harm, death

Prologue

If you'd searched the whole wide world

Would you dare to let it go?

The pews of this church were far less comfortable than you could have possibly imagined. You let your feet dangle for a moment before pushing them up on to the pew in front of you. A bored yawn echoes in the empty halls and your eyes fall closed as the workers around you continue to struggle to make sense of the scene. When you try to breathe, you notice that the air is far too still.

“It’s great to see you making yourself useful.” The soft sound of shoes stop steadily next to your seat. With an annoyed huff, you push your feet down and sit up, looking at Mobius.

“I could be far more useful if you’d let me use my goddamn powers.” He sighs and stares down at his watch. “You know I can’t do that. Now come on, you’re a smart kid. What does this all look like to you?”

Your eyes don’t leave him for a few seconds. There was a time where you would have tried to run off; take what you needed to jump from place to place and find Loki on your own. Not now though. You know these people are far more powerful than they let on. You know that you need them if you’re ever going to see him again.

With that in mind, you walk over to the candlelit section, Mobius following closely behind. The bodies are spread out on the floor, each with wounds in a pattern far too familiar. Gunshots were never your forte. Stab wounds on the other hand, you were taught well by the best on how to both treat and inflict.

“They were stabbed.” He nods and squats down to inspect the wounds of one body more closely.

“They’re all consistent with the others. Look at the position of the bodies.” Your eyes glance over each of them. Some look defensive, but in a sudden way. Almost as if…”They didn’t know something was coming to them until it was too late. It was a blindside.” Mobius rises and pats your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable, he’s trying desperately to be your friend and you don’t really know why. You both knew you weren’t here because it was your first option.

“That makes six attacks this week.” Your fingers tingle with the need to feel something. If you could just tap into the energy here, it could make everything so much easier. There is endless knowledge in the atmosphere of a room, especially one where such horrific things occurred. It was infuriating that they you couldn’t use a part of yourself that you had learned to depend on.

“Those are just the ones we know of.” Mobius walks around the side of the room again, just in time for your frustration to bubble over. You stare him down and, even without your abilities, you know he can feel the anger that courses through you.

“I thought you guys were all knowing.” You step toward Mobius and one of the soldiers lifts his gun. Mobius quickly puts a hand up to order him to stand down. He walks closer to you, arms up in attempt to defuse the situation. His patience pisses you off even more.

“This is a variant we’re talking about. You know better than most that those aren’t so well regulated.” He watches you closely as your jaw clenches. He’s right and you know it. It’s just felt like an eternity since any sign of Loki has come up. You were on edge, without your powers, and working with people you didn’t fully trust. Playing it cool was the only way to keep your position as Mobius’ partner though, and you had to remember that.

“Right.” You nod and turn away right as the shuffle of feet sounds from down the hall. A small child runs by and Mobius follows, along with a few of the crew. You’re not so quick to see what’s going on though. Right now, you need to think. The bodies around you were alarming. The stab wounds even more so. There was no way that Mobius didn't recognize the same signs you did, but you weren't about to broadcast it with the small chance that he didn't already know.

You had been working with Mobius for a little while now. You weren’t exactly sure how long because time has a weird tendency to move differently at the TVA. It was long enough to establish that, while you weren’t the most fond of him, he held a certain faith in you that the others lacked. Still, something was off, you just didn’t know what yet.

That’s what made all of this even more concerning. If your suspicions were even close to correct about the recent murders…you knew where your loyalties were held, and it wasn’t with Mobius or the TVA. Loki was somewhere out there. For a brief moment, before you had your powers stripped from you, you could almost feel him. It was the connection to his energy that tethered you to him when you first met, and it was a similar one to what called you to him back at the revisit to New York. There was something that kept hope in you that he was still alive, and the feeling stayed with you until the moment you entered the TVA.

Every once in a while, out here in the field, you think you can still feel little shards of it.

Your mind stops wandering when you see Mobius take something from the child to be examined. It was a little blue package, but the glowing teeth on the child are what really catch your eye. You make it just in time to see the kid point out the stained-glass imagery of the devil. Horns protrude from his head like a crown. It all felt too familiar: the god-like being, horned crown, stab wounds, and tricky nature of a blind attack. The anger, the mistrust. Your eyes can’t seem to tear away for a second, but when they do, you can’t help but stare at this kid. Something was definitely not right. Why was he so calm?

Mobius watches you from his place by the doorway and takes it all in. You can see it when you look back at him; the knowing look he gives you. It’s unsettling to think that your thoughts are so easily deciphered when you don’t have your shield to hide behind. He doesn’t ask any questions though, and for that you’re almost grateful. He says something else to the kid, but you aren’t listening anymore.

“Alright, let’s head out.” Mobius takes your arm and guides you back to the main hall. Part of you thinks these little gestures are to establish trust. Mobius truly has given you no real reason to dislike him. As a person, he appears inherently good. Without your ability to read him though, you never know what to trust. The fact that they seem adamant to keep them from you, while not his decision, makes you weary of the whole organization.

“Any of that seem odd to you?” He looks between your face and the rest of the room quickly. You know he’s trying to make it seem like he’s not watching you that closely, even though he is. Keeping your face as steady as you can, you choose your words carefully. Focus on the gum, not the horns. Not the stab wounds.

“Yeah, the gum was weird as shit. Definitely not the usual candy for this time period.” You brush his arm off of you and move your body around to feign looking over the church in attempt to hide the action. “You never know though, they might be more modern than we think.” He watches you with a straight face that breaks out into a smile instantly. Mobius nods and grins at you.

“I agree. No time variance there.” His voice is sarcastic and playful in that moment, but his face falls serious again. “What about the devil?”

You do everything in your power to not flinch or make any indication of discomfort at the question. “What about the devil? I feel like it could be a clue, but it could also just be some kid who learned from a very early age that any evil is done by a creature with hooves who lives in hell.” He continues to watch you and you continue to be as nonchalant as possible.

Finally, he nods. “Maybe.” Mobius turns and you pause to breathe for a moment before following him back to the TVA.

Upon your arrival, things move incredibly fast. Thoughts of the case are abandoned in favor of a much more urgent matter.

A call came in immediately. Before you even had a moment to settle yourself back into the usually stale atmosphere of TVA headquarters, Mobius was rushing you into a room. You almost miss the fact that the air is not stale in the slightest; in fact, it almost felt as though it was crackling with electricity.

“I need to know that you won’t do anything stupid.” The words left his mouth with urgency. The constant glances over his shoulder to the awaiting hall a clear sign that he knew something you didn’t.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, “What are you talking about?” He turns and paces the floor. Once. Twice. Three times before his movements halt.

“The Loki you know isn’t here. He never will be. You understand that, right?” His device flashes in his hand. You don’t know what the flashes mean, but you do know what he’s implying. Loki’s here. Somewhere in this building. In the same general place that you are. Loki is here.

Mobius continues to wait for a response. His foot taps with impatience. “When I took you in, we promised each other that our partnership wasn’t over when we found him. You can’t go rogue on me or this is all over for everyone, do you understand?”

Your breaths come out in rapid little puffs as your mind tries to wrap itself around the unspoken truth here. Mobius is right in theory. This isn’t the Loki you knew at the time you lost him originally. This Loki is still afraid. He’s angry, hurt, confused, and so far from trusting you. Where Mobius is wrong though, is in thinking you aren’t familiar with him at all. You know Loki in all forms, and if it takes a little extra time to make up for lost memories, that would be more than okay with you.

“Hey, I need an answer.” Mobius’ voice was barely registering with you, but you heard it. He’s on edge and you almost panic at the thought of potentially not seeing Loki as soon as possible if Mobius doesn’t think you can handle it.

“I understand and I’m not going to do anything stupid.” You can’t speak the words fast enough and as Mobius searches your eyes for any sign of deceit, you know all he sees is honest desperation. You would do anything to be with him again. That’s the truth.

With an affirming nod, Mobius leads the way to a section you recognize as the courtroom.

The air here is thick, almost unbreathable. The crackles turn to little sparks as you near the doors. How is it that in a place that banishes magic, Loki can still make the ghost of yours come to life? To say that you aren’t prepared to see him again would be an understatement. You traveled through time itself to be near him again, but the prospect of achieving that goal never actually felt like a fantasy you could fully entertain. How very like him to bring your wildest dreams to fruition in the most obscure of moments. Your thoughts all come to a sudden halt when you hear the faint sound of the most narcissistic angel to ever utter a word.

“…because they traveled through time. No doubt in a last ditch effort to stave off my ascent to god king,” Your mouth falls open in silent shock. Of course the first thing you hear from him in years is an accusation, you assume, to have you arrested instead of him.

Your gaze falls on him and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders as you see him, truly see him, moving, speaking, and having just as big a flair for the dramatics as usual. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s okay.

Mobius nudges you to follow him and you both attempt to silently take your seats in the rows lining the courtroom. Your heart pangs as Loki mentions Tony, but you sit and listen, nonetheless. He continues to argue with the judge, bringing up your old team and reminding you of just how much things have changed irreparably.

“Perhaps you can provide me with a task force and resources, and I can return and eliminate them for you.” His hands are spread confidently, but they immediately fall when you let out a short laugh. The comment caught you off guard and a part of you loved that he still thought he could squash your team so easily. Even after all that happened in New York, he never gave up and you loved that about him; even if his determination was a bit misplaced at the moment. Loki is nothing if not confident in his abilities to charm and disarm.

Your hands fly to your mouth immediately when you realize that the majority of the courtroom is staring at you.

That’s when it happens. His gaze pierces into you like a dagger, sharp and oh so welcome to do whatever damage it pleases. Your hand goes down, stopping at your chest where you can feel your heart pounding. Tears slowly well up in your eyes, but you blink them away as quickly as they came.

Loki tilts his head to the side subtly. You know he recognizes you and you know your lame attempt to hide your pain and love was seen right through. He doesn’t say anything though. Even though he was just offering to hunt your team down for sport and turn you in to gain his freedom, he says nothing to indicate you should be on trial. Instead, his eyebrows scrunch together, and he continues to stare at you. There seems to be a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you know you’re just imagining it.

The judge clears her throat, calling the attention of the room back to her. Loki’s eyes slowly move from yours. You continue to watch him though. It isn’t irrational to fear he might disappear at any moment. Not with him, and definitely not here.

You barely listen as he learns many of the same things you previously did about the Time-Keepers and his inability to use magic here. His attempts to conjure his daggers pulls your focus, but not in the same way a conversation would. No, you swear that you feel the frustration and utter helplessness that courses through him. You know the feeling, but this rushes over you just as fresh as the day you lost your powers. You can't be feeling it from him though, and that is reestablished in your mind as his magic fails to conjure.

What does call your attention is the sentencing that Loki receives and the sheer panic of potentially losing him again. You move to rise, ready to put up a fight because you know that being this close and failing is not something that you want to survive. In that moment, you don’t care if they kill you instantly. You just can’t live in a world without him. Not again. If you could find a way for him to escape, a way to feel him one more time and know that there is a chance that he could be okay, that he could live and learn to love again…well, death wouldn’t be so bad at all.

Before anything could happen though, Mobius pushes you back into place with a firm hand and rises. He runs over to the stand, speaking to the judge in whispers that you can’t decipher. Your lip trembles and you choose to scan the room for an escape route instead of focusing on Mobius, and Loki’s impending doom. When you find Loki again, his eyes are fearful and searching just like yours. You’re too preoccupied to notice when his worried gaze lands back on you. You don’t see when the fear slips from him and turns to calmness for a reason that he can barely understand.

The few seconds that Mobius spends by the stand feel like a lifetime, but his words are worth the wait.

“Alright, Loki you’re coming with us.” You have never felt more grateful for the man in your time here. Mobius takes hold of a collared Loki and guides him to the door. Loki shrugs his hand off and glares at him. “Who is us?” You take that as your cue and rise to fall into step on the opposite side of Loki.

Loki’s eyes find you the moment you’re next to him. The first time you met back in New York, you were young and still in training to fight. They had put you in the field out of desperation. When you came face to face with Loki then, you had felt small and insignificant. His confusion when he wasn’t able to control you had sparked a subtle interest in him, but you were still just an insignificant child in the eyes of a powerful god.

Now, standing next to him, you didn’t feel small in the slightest. You felt just as powerful as he had taught you to be. Even if he didn’t remember the endless time you spent together, the nights you cried over the torment your powers put you through and the days he could barely see himself through the monster he thought he was. Even if he had no memory of picnics in the park, dark nights spent teaching you to dance beneath the stars, movie nights, and laughing as you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs in an effort to get your family to sing along (Tony, Wanda, and Thor often did); it was okay. All you needed was each other. The rest would fall into place.

“Hi. I think we’ve met before.” You give him a smile and continue walking beside them. Loki’s eyes don’t leave your face and you feel him staring as you all leave the courtroom behind. Finally, he shakes from his thoughts and offers you a soft nod.

“Yes. I believe we have.”

a/n: ahh first chapter done! I really hope you guys like this. please feel free to leave any feedback/suggestions you have to make my writing or story better. I appreciate any interaction so so much xx

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years ago

Text

Gwynriel mating bond

I have written another version of gwynriel’s mating bond snapping into place but I like this one better

They were well and truly fucked.

It was the only thought that coursed through Azriel's mind. They had been outnumbered by Hybern certainly. Even then, the courts were able to rally together and defeat the king. Unfortunately, it was nothing compared to what they were facing now. They had the geographic advantage this time though. The night court inner circle stood at the highest point as the war raged on below. Cassian and him were regrouping while also arguing over which strategy would work best. Of course, Cassian won that argument. He was the general of the night court armies after all. Amren, who was no longer of much use in a fight, stood watching over the battle. Azriel could have sworn her eyes tracked the summer court armies. Feyre and Rhysand were currently arguing over the best course of action while Mor, unhelpfully added her opinion every other moment. It was clear to Azriel that his high lord and lady also realized they were fucked. Feyre thought they should draw back and regroup, but Rhysand felt that would give the other courts enough time to back out completely once they realized this was an un-winnable fight. Azriel knew he should give his opinion, but he was much more focused on surveying the carnage below them. Koschei and his army had managed to wipe out most of the spring courts forces- unsurprising considering they were still suffering from Feyre's plans even all these years later, the Illyrian aerial forces have taken a large hit, and the winter forces were not much help in this summer heat. It was not something Rhysand or the high lord of the winter court had calculated for, but as it turns out, training all your life in the brutal cold made it much more challenging to fight in the summer heat. All things considered they still might have had a chance if the autumn court had not sided with Koschei and the dark-bringers had not denied Rhysand's request for them to fight this war. According to Eris, there was only so much convincing he could do with his father before all their best laid plans would be tossed away like trash.

"We are being massacred out there, Rhysand! If we do not withdrawal, we will die!" Feyre's frantic voice pulled Azriel from his trance.

"We will die if we withdrawal!" He shouted back. "Kallias will retreat to his lands to save his people and leave us even further outnumbered."

"I am with Feyre on this one." Cassian finally piped up. His decision may have to do with the fact that a deep cut from top of his thigh to knee was not healing as fast as it should be. He was struggling to walk which would not be an issue if he could fly but Azriel had seen a faebane arrow cut through one of his wings earlier in the fight.

Mor was not better off and if he was being honest with himself, his own siphons were starting to drain.

"What the hell do they think they are doing?" Amren squeaked. The unusual tone has the entire group staring at the second in command with raised eyebrows. Azriel even managed a chuckle at that.

The group finally looked down to where Amren was pointing, only for Azriel to feel as though his heart had stopped. Before he could consider anything else, Azriel launched himself at Cassian. He was only able to hold himself back by sheer will alone. Rhysand eventually joined in to help hold Cassian back.

"Let go of me." He snarled. "She is going to get herself killed down there."

Azriel kept his hold steady but let his eyes wander back to the battle field. A weight had settled on his chest and he thought he might suffocate. He could only imagine how Cas was feeling. He watched as the Valkyries rode in on horses at full speed. He had to give credit where it's due, the horses were a smart move. It gave them the height and speed advantage. It appeared a group of almost 200 priestesses turned valkyrie were being led by Nesta with Emerie and Gwyn flanking her. It was quite a majestic scene. One that he knew his high lady would try and recreate in a painting. The collision with Koschei's army on the ground was intense. Azriel wanted to watch to make sure his best friend, Gwyn, would remain unharmed, but Cassian was putting up too much of a fight. Finally, Mor did the only thing that would keep Cassian safe. She knocked him out with the butt of her sword. His body went limp immediately. Azriel grunted as he set his friend down. Cassian was much heavier than Azriel would like to admit.

Watching the three females fight was always awe inspiring. They worked so well together, it was as if they were daemati and could tell each other what moves they were planning on using. Azriel's eyes narrowed in on Gwyn as her dagger found its target. Her face was set in a determined expression that Azriel had spent many training sessions watching. He wanted to go down there to aid the female that had become his best friend in the last few years, but he was afraid that he might mess up whatever system the Valkyries were already working with.

"I am going to kill her." Rhysand groaned when he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in.

"They are supposed to be with Nyx!" Feyre cried. Obviously, leaving the child with Elain alone is the priority that the high lady has latched on to. Azriel rolled his eyes.

"Well now we have to fall back." Rhysand snapped. Azriel understood why he was frustrated. It was unwise for the Valkyries to join without telling Rhysand. It completely changes strategic plans that could have already been in place. Luckily for them, there were no plans.

"I don't know about that Rhys," Mor added. "They are kind of kicking ass down there."

Azriel turned back to check and sure enough, they were kicking ass. Azriel knew they were highly qualified and that they deserved to fight in this battle. It's one thing to know that and another to send your closest friends into the heart of an un-winnable war. Even from this far away, he could feel as Gwyn's stare fell upon him. He looked toward her and suddenly the pressure that had encased his heart as he watched her on that field made sense. It hit him so hard it was like the wind was knocked out of him. He fell to his knees with a groan. Mor was in front of him before he could blink.

"What's wrong?" She sounded panicked but nothing mattered to Azriel in this moment than getting down to Gwyn and carrying her far far away. He realized how Cassian must have felt which had Azriel feeling like an asshole. He would apologize later.

"Mate." Is all he managed before he took off in flight for the red head. He had to dodge several blasts of power from enemies that seemed to appear out of no where. He kept one eye on the females though. Their fighting was graceful and brutal all at once. Nesta beheaded an enemy as Emerie shot a male that was aiming for Gwyn. Gwyn was busy using her shield to protect another Valkyrie from a thrown ax.

It was as though it happened in slow motion. With his birds eye view, he could see what neither Nesta or Emerie could see. He pushed himself faster. He could beat the male that was fastly approaching Gwyn.

"Gwyn!" He started to scream. "Behind you." She could not hear him, of course. He began screaming it over and over again. His feet had barely hit the ground when his mate finally whipped her head around to make eye contact. A mischievous smile graced her face, but Azriel could only focus on the male that was too close.

"Behind you!" He shouted once more. She turned quickly as Azriel began running full speed towards her. She did not even have time to raise her shield before a sword pierced straight through her stomach.

"No!" The strangled cry caught both Nesta and Emerie's attention. Nesta beheaded the traitor as he pulled his sword out. Azriel fell to his knees as he attempted to stop her bleeding. His hands were covered in blood after only a second of covering her stomach. He knew what it meant and it felt as though his heart was being shredded. Nesta knelt on the other side of Gwyn as Emerie protected them. Nesta grabbed for her face.

"You are okay, Gwyn. It's barely a scratch. Azriel is going to fly you to Feyre and she will heal you." Nesta's matter of fact tone began to calm Azriel. They had a plan. Gwyn would be fine.

"Fuck, it hurts." Gwyn managed to splutter out with a laugh. She coughed up blood as she said it. Nesta and Azriel shared a look.

"You are okay." Azriel was unsure of who Nesta was trying to convince by repeating that. He did not have much time to ponder that before the abrasive female turned to him. "You can fly her to Feyre right?"

It was dangerous. He would have trouble fending off attackers while carrying Gwyn. He had to try though. Tonight may end with all of their deaths. Given that there was not a safer option, he had to risk it.

"Hurry up." Emerie seethed as she shot the last of her arrows. She quickly switched to her sword as an onslaught of new enemies rushed towards them. Azriel adjusted Gwyn as he lifted her into his arms. Before he could take off, Nesta placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Nes!" Emerie shouted. Nesta went back to fighting and Azriel shot up into the air. Dodging attacks was much harder than he anticipated. He wished he could winnow but he had drained too much of his power to successfully accomplish that. An arrow skimmed the side of his calf when Gwyn finally spoke up.

"Mates huh? Who would have thought?"

"Shhh. Save your energy."

"I have always had a thing for you, ya know? I figured you would know since you are the spy master and all. Might as well tell you anyways since I am about to die." She rasped out. Her hand was resting on his neck and if he was being honest it made his heart skip a beat. Even if they were in the middle of a war.

"Do not say that." He found himself snapping. "You are not going to die. You are fine."

A small lovely smile from her distracted him for only a second when an arrow sliced through his wing and he felt them falling to the treacherous grounds below. He attempted to land on his feet, but the hole in his wing made it exceedingly difficult. He wrapped himself around her so that he could take the brunt of the fall. Azriel was already trying to reach out to Rhys to bring Feyre to them as a backup plan. They must have been busy because there was no answer. A warrior raced towards them with a sword. Azriel was too injured to fight as easily as he should have been able to. Before he could even rise to his feet, an arrow sliced through the females throat. Azriel looked behind him to see Emerie and Nesta racing towards them. A sigh of relief left his body.

“Gwyn, are you okay?” He had to check after their rough landing.

“Never better.” She choked out. He went back to covering her wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“New plan. You are going to ride back with Nesta and find Feyre to heal you.” He was feeling frantic at this point. Gwyn would only get worse as the faebane worked its magic and he would not be able to live with the fact that he could not save her.

“Hey Azriel,” she had never called him by his full name before- only Shadowsinger or Az. “I love you. You have been my closest friend and I just realized I have never said it to you before. But I want you to know that I do love you.” Her breathing was harsh and her words came out raspy. Azriel had longed for the day to hear those words, but he knew that Gwyn was saying them as a goodbye and he hated that.

“Stop talking. Save your energy.” Another of Koschei’s fighters popped up only to be downed by another of Emerie’s arrows- she must have found more somewhere.

Two more charged towards them. Azriel ripped silver majesty from Gwyn’s holster and simultaneously threw her dagger and truthteller. It sliced through both of their throats. Nesta and Emerie were almost here. He just had to protect her a little longer.

“Az,” she began again.

“Stop distracting me.” He did not want to be harsh.

He promised he would make it up to her with sweet words when they made it out alive. She grabbed his hand roughly searching for his attention. The connection between their hands sent a spark through him. He finally looked at her. Blood covered her mouth and hands, sweat plastered her hair to her forehead, her eyes were looking a little glassy, and her pale skin was even paler than normal. He knew what this meant and could not stop the tears that flowed from his eyes.

“It is okay.” Gwyn whispered as her hand came up to caress his face. “I will find you again in another life.”

“Gwyneth, I lov-“ Azriel was interrupted by an ear shattering scream.

“No!” Nesta was looking behind them.

Azriel’s head whipped back to see a female charging for them faster than he could block in his weakened state. He accepted his fate then. Gwyn and him would find death together. He squeezed her hand tightly and waited. Nothing happened though. He looked behind him again to see the female had been taken out by a winter court soldier. He peered more closely at the soldier- only to realize he was dead. Nesta and Emerie finally reached them. Nesta was wearing the mask. Azriel knew this would end in disaster. Rhysand strictly forbid the use of the dread trove in this war. He knew that Koschei was searching for it and as long as it was locked away then it was safe. Nesta might as well have delivered it to him on his door step.

“Nes, what are you doing? Koschei-“ before he could finish though, Nesta was rushing to Gwyn’s side already cutting him off.

“Koschei won’t come near me as long as I have the one weapon that could kill him.” She pointed to Ataraxia- her made weapon that was sheathed on her back. Nesta grabbed Gwyn by the face, forcing her attention. Emerie stood guard again. It gave Azriel some faith that Nesta had a plan to save Gwyn.

“I am going to fix this, okay? Gwyneth Berdara I will not allow you to die today.” Nesta’s tone was final and absolute. Azriel finally saw the harp in her hand. He watched as Nes placed a kiss to Gwyn’s cheek and then she pulled the last string.

In the next moment, Nesta was forcing Gwyn to drink what appeared to be blood- Feyre’s blood. He knew then that the harsh female must have paused time in order to obtain the blood. What was no time at all for them, must have been forever for Nes. He noticed that the fighting had completely stopped. Whether it was because the undead soldiers were enough to overwhelm Koschei’s forces or because of something Nesta did during the time pause, Azriel would not ask until he knew Gwyn would live. Emerie was on her knees, lifting Gwyn’s head to rest in her lap. Emerie began brushing pieces of hair away while whispering something in her ear. Nesta watched intently while squeezing Gwyn’s hand. Azriel realized he was mirroring Nesta’s movements. He also was squeezing Gwyn’s hand while watching her intently. Her eyes were closed, but the wound on her stomach had finally closed. It felt like eternity before her eyes began to flutter open. A weight lifted off Azriel’s chest- an all-consuming weight. They all waited for Gwyn to speak before celebrating though.

“Hey.” She managed to cough out. Emerie shouted with glee as she peppered kisses all over her face. Nesta threw her body over Gwyn’s in a desperate attempt of a hug. Azriel felt the urge to shove both of them off and gather Gwyn into his lap for the worlds longest hug. He resisted though because he knew how Nesta and Emerie were feeling. It was how he was feeling- grateful for their best friend to be breathing.

“You are in so much trouble. I cannot believe you let yourself get stabbed!” Nesta yelled at her and then proceeded to hug her again. Azriel just squeezed the hand he still had a hold of.

“We are going to force Azriel to train you so much harder because of this just so you know.” Emerie cracked a smile as tears still poured down her face.

“Sorry.” Is all Gwyn could manage. Azriel could no longer hold out. He lightly nudged Nesta off of Gwyn, then he pulled her into him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tucked her head under his chin.

“I fucking love you Gwyneth Berdara,” she pulled away to look up at him with big shocked teal eyes that were brimming with tears. “But if you ever pull that shit again, I will personally ensure that you train everyday for at least five hours.” She immediately started laughing. It was like music to his ears. His shadows, who had been moving so chaotically since the bond snapped in place that he chose to ignore them, finally calmed down. It was as if her laugh proved that she was going to live. One stray shadow reached out to caress her cheek. She sighed into it.

“Blame yourself,” she started joking which only eased the tension in his body even more. “I was distracted by the mating bond.” She pulled away to give him a genuine smile that tugged at the bond. It was so beautiful it hurt.

“Mating bond?” Emerie screeched. Gwyn laughed again. It was music to his ears.

Gwyn grabbed him by the face and pulled his lips to hers. He could hear Nesta and Emerie squealing- so in contrast to the battlefield they were currently sitting on.

It was by far the best kiss he’s ever had. The bond was singing as were his shadows. Blood that still covered her mouth was smearing onto his, their sweat was wiping off on each other, and the dirt caked onto his hands were getting in her braid as he held onto the back of her head. It was not the best circumstances for a first kiss, but he did not care. It was beautiful and magical and every other positive adjective that he could not think of. A swipe of her tongue against his was electric. His shadows had never sung to someone as they had her. They broke apart and the smile on Gwyn’s face was worth every hardship he had to endure to get to this moment.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #mating bond #mates #acotar #acosf

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that-one-shitty-fanfic-writer · 4 years ago

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Fashionable Discharge

Part 1 - Yandere Vil x Chubby Reader

Proofread and Edited By (Discord) spyratical

Part 2

“No.”

A clean and clear response to the news of the arranged marriage.

“Son, please-”

“No.”

It was an understandable response from his part, considering the position he was being put in. You, of all people, knew this position all too well seeing as you were being set up at the other end of the contract.

“Mr. Schoenheit, I can understand why you may be upset at the proposition set before you, but you have to understand that this is merely a temporary setup-”

“No.”

Of course, you had objected to the proposition as well, but seeing as how neither of your parents cared enough to even show up and only sent in their lawyers in their stead, your opinion had little to no significance in the matter. When it comes to the entertainment industry, your parents are known legendary icons both in front of the camera and behind the scenes; you could name off every branch in the field, and you would not be able to find a trade your family is not involved in. This betrothment was set up to propel forward Vil Schoenheit’s profession, in association with your family; in return, your parents would receive a son-in-law they could show off to the media and masses.

“Son, you would only need to endure it for four years minimum, plus it wouldn’t start until-”

“I’m not doing it.”

You could not dare yourself to look directly at him from the moment he entered the room; the embarrassment and shame your parents were willing to put you through was humiliating. Even if the contract did go through, you doubted that your parents would even want to include you in whatever endeavors they would share with Vil. They had already begun to shield you from all publicity when you had started gaining weight from a young age, going so far as having you homeschooled; you were not even allowed to have a phone, nor a camera, let alone a social media presence of any sort. Anything and everything the outside world knew about you was limited to what your parents were willing to share; to say you were socially handicapped would be an adequate statement.

“Sir, our clients are willing to cooperate with any demands you inquire. You can be as involved with the engagement as you please; if you don’t want a ceremony, we’ll merely send in the legal documents-”

“There won’t be a need for anything because there is no engagement.”

You can tell that Mister Venue is reaching his wits end, seeing as his son is unwilling to cooperate whatsoever. As anyone could guess, knowing how you were raised, you were never one for confrontations nor arguments; at this point, you do not care whether the contract fell through, you just want the entire thing to be over and to go home. You are not even comfortable in the clothes you are wearing, being forced into commissioned high-end clothes ordered by one of your parents. You wish you could disappear into your “couch potato” threads and wake up from this affair. When it seemed that everything was about to turn into a screaming match, the oldest lawyer on staff and longtime friend of yours, Mr. Χάος, finally spoke up after remaining silent for so long.

“All this arguing back and forth is getting both sides nowhere. Just as much as we wish for Mr. Schoenheit to settle down with the contract, he wants us to cease to exist. It is irresponsible of my colleagues to assume Mr. Schoenheit would automatically agree to the engagement, and for that I apologize on my team’s behalf. However, even you must acknowledge that it would be foolish to turn down such an offer without giving it any thought.”

“Oh please, as if I need-”

“You have big aspirations for yourself and for the future of your career, Mr. Schoenheit, and from what I have gathered from working with my clients for several years now, you have worked exceptionally hard to get to where you are currently at. That much is already very admirable for someone your age; unfortunately, in your line of work, sometimes said hard work is not enough, much less to reach the goals you expect for yourself, even you must recognize that. This engagement is not meant to slight you, Mr. Schoenheit, but to engage you with your goals starting out early, so that you may rise above the expectations you have set for yourself.”

The air surrounding the room is still, everyone, except Vil and Mr. Χάος, was on edge for the conclusion of today’s events. Even now you still could not bring yourself to peek at the face of your supposed fiancé, merely only peeking at his form, and from what you could tell from his still cross armed posture, for as delicate his hands may look, he certainly did take care of his figure. You hold down the slight twist of envy you felt within your heart; that’s the sort of shape your parents had hammered into your mind was best, well-built yet delicate. It’s no wonder you are in such a predicament, your parents probably still crave to have some sort of resemblance of a child they can proudly show off to the spotlight of camera flashes in red carpet events. With no inquisitions coming from the opposing party, Mr. Χάος continued.

“This is my offer: my client is willing to hold off all engagement contracts until you have graduated, for which we will meet again to discuss whether you accept. However, you must build a better association with my client’s child, Y/N, if in the end you decide to accept the engagement, to make the transition easier on you both. For a minimum of an hour, at least once every two weeks, you, Mr. Schoenheit, will make time out of your day to meet with Y/N, and engage in friendly activities. And to make sure you are keeping your end of the deal; I will speak to Y/N at the end of each day to make sure everything went over well. Understood?”

#yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere vil #yandere twisted wonderland #chubby reader #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x chubby reader

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fangirlfics · 4 years ago

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You Just Saved Me (Fred Weasley x reader)

summary: A near death experience leads to confessing some feeling

word count: 1,924

Also I didn’t exactly proof read so

y/n watched the sky as hundreds of spells hit the protective barrier surrounding Hogwarts all at once. If it were different circumstances it would’ve looked beautiful-but these weren’t different circumstances. “You ok, y/n?” She heard someone ask. She didn’t have to turn to see who is was-she already knew it was Fred.

She nodded her head, continuing to watch the sky. “Yeah.”

Fred stood next to her now, watching the sky as well as they mentally prepared themselves for what was about to happen.

“Actually, I’m terrified.” y/n confessed after a small silence. She looked over to Fred who was already looking down at her, “I mean...these are death eater we’re talking about, they’ve killed hundreds, they know what they’re doing...” Another silence.

“I think everyone’s scared.” Fred told the girl, looking back up at the sky, “at least a little, except for me of course-I’m a Gryffindor.”

y/n laughed at his joke, “of course.” She sighed.

Shortly after that the fight had started.

Now about an hour into the fight y/n was shooting spells in almost every direction at the death eaters surrounding her. She was standing right outside of the room of requirement about a foot from Fred, her back facing his.

“You're joking, Perce! You actually are joking...I don't think I've heard you joke since you were–“

There was an explosion that came out of nowhere and a wall was about to fall on Fred-he didn’t have any time to react but then, “Protego!” y/n yelled-she leapt as far forward as she could pointing her wand in front of her as she grabbed Fred’s collar-pulling him closer. Instantly a transparent force field shot out from the tip of her wand, shielding the two wizards were they stood. As soon as the falling wall hit the shield, it turned to dust falling at y/n and Fred’s feet.

Fred’s jaw dropped as he looked down at a panting y/n with wide eyes. He looked at the dust at their feet. “You just saved me.” He said-still processing what had happened. He was pretty sure that wall would have killed him instantly if she hadn’t shielded him.

“Hey-look out out!” She said-pushing him away from her. ”Incarcerous.” She said quickly, binding a death eater who had his wand pointed at the two.

Fred finally got back to reality as more deatheaters came and the two began dueling once more with Percy at their side.

Voldemort gave them an hour to collect their dead and wounded and for Harry to surrender himself to him-if he did everyone at Hogwarts would be sparred, if he didn’t the battle would resume. y/n entered the the great hall beside Fred and Percy, their eyes scanned the place-there were bodies on the ground and wounded being attended.

They caught site of the rest of the Weasleys huddled in a small group and y/n swore she had been holding her breath. The three walked over to them and Molly turned her head-a worried expression had taken over her featured. “Are you ok?”she asked looking between her sons and y/n, “Are you alright.”

Fred and Percy nodded, “We’re fine Mrs. Weasley.” y/n reassured her and she scanned the room, “Where’s Tonks?” She asked scanning the room for her friend.

“y/n-” Molly began to say sadly. Then y/n caught sight of a stretcher on the floor a few feet behind Molly. “Oh...no.” y/n whispered to herself. She rushed over to it and to her dismay Tonks was laid down on it-her body lifeless, her hair messy. She didn’t look like herself. Remus was laid next to her in the same condition-his face and clothes dirty.

“No...“ y/n whispered, touching her friend’s face. She looked between her and Remus, putting her hands on their wrists. “No.“ She cried out-feeling tears flowing down her cheeks. “No!“ She dropped her head down, closing her eyes. It felt like her entire body was trembling as she cried.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and knew who it was, she stood up, turned around and practically flung herself into Fred’s embrace. He held her close, with one hand on her back and the other softly stoking her hair. His chin rested on her head as he soothed her.

“They’re gone.” She whimpered in between sniffles. “I’m sorry, y/n.” Fred whispered softly to the girl. “I’m so sorry.”

But grieving had to wait for later as there was less than an hour left to come up with a plan, but as it turned out Harry’s plan was to turn himself in and nobody could convince him otherwise. Not even Ron or Hermione. So the castle stayed quiet-awaiting to see what would happen next, hoping that Harry would miraculously come back with Voldemort defeated.

y/n stared at a lifeless Harry in Hagrid’s arms while Voldemort boasted, laughing with his followers. “No!” Ginny’s scream tore through the area and Arthur had to hold her back.

“It’s over.” y/n whispered, she looked up around her at the destruction and rubble before looking up at the twins. “This is how it ends.” She said to herself.” The twins looked down at her and Fred who was closest, took her hand in his-while George looked back at the scene unfolding in front of them as Neville began to speak.

George then looked back to Fred with hope in his eyes, “he’s not dead.” He said, y/n was about to say something when Harry suddenly sprang out of Hagrid’s arms, wand in the air and projecting a spell towards Voldemort.

“We’re not done yet, Freddie.” George told his twin, wand at the ready. Everyone jumped into action, casting spells, ready to end the battle.

At some point y/n had gotten separated from her friends and now that Fred and George were in the Great Hall with the rest of their family-y/n was still outside of the castle, disarming and stupefying death eaters with her spells. Screams were ringing out throughout the castle grounds as wizards were stunned, killed, disarmed and cast spells.

The battle was about to be over-Harry was winning his duel with Voldemort-y/n could see this. But a death eater made it’s way towards y/n, throwing a spell-she disarmed it but not before their spell had been cast. She had at first thought that they missed her but then realized that they hadn’t been aiming for her. A huge chunk of the Hogwarts castle was falling from above and she barely jumped out of the way-dropping her wand in the process.

She was on her hands and knees, crawling behind a bush as rubble and rocks flew around her from small explosions. My wand. She kept thinking. I need my wand. She sat there, covering her head for a moment as more explosions went off. She thought back to Fred then George and the rest of her friends. Were they ok? Were they safe? People were screaming all around and with each yell she couldn’t help but wonder if she had just lost a friend. There was now dust and dirt in her hair and on her face, she coughed more out scanned the ground around her for her wand, feeling the ground desperately with her hands in search of it. But she had no idea where it was, it could be anywhere now among all the commotion, or even broken. Debris kept flying with booms. And y/n kept crawling away, missing each one until the ground from a couple of feet away exploded, knocking something into her head. Then the world went black.

Fred rushed out of the grand hall as soon as the battle was over, in search of y/n. He went straight to the entrance-where he last saw her. But she wasn’t there. He felt panic beginning to settle in as he continued to cast around the school. Please be ok. He thought to himself before stepping on something in the courtyard. He thought it was just more rubble but after looking down he saw a wand and recognized it as y/n’s. “Oh no.” He said to himself, picking it up gingerly-as if it would snap. “Please.”

Then he caught of y/n, she was on the ground with her back facing the sky and arms beside her head. Her messy y/h/c hair covered her face and was full of debris from the fight.

“Oh no, please.” Fred knelt down beside her. “y/n, darling please be ok.” He turned her over and sighed in relief when he realized she was still breathing. “George, I found her!” He called to his brother. “She’s got a cut on her head, but...she’s-she’s fine.” He smiled to himself, brushing her hair out of her face. He pressed a kiss on her temple, holding her protectively as he picked her up.

The first thing y/n realized when waking up was the smell of something burning, but not the bad type of burning. The peaceful feeling of firewood burning in a fireplace like the one in the y/h common room she used to sleep in. She opened her eyes slowly remembering what had happened and sat up so fast her head began to spin and she fell off of the bed she was laying in when she attempted to stand to quickly. She stood up quickly looking around her but didn’t recognize the cozy room. Then she realized that she was in a Gryffindor dorm. The door suddenly opened up and Fred walked in, he broke into the widest smile she had ever seen and was standing in front of her in a matter of seconds. y/n immediately broke into tears of joy and they didn’t say anything as they embraced eachother. Fred rocked side to side slightly as y/n hugged him even tighter.

“It’s ok.” Fred whispered, puling away to wipe her tears away. “Georgie’s ok, and so is Ron and Bill and Hermione and Ron an-”

“and you.” y/n said, putting her hands on his cheeks she stared into his eyes, “you’re ok?”

“I’m ok.” He confirmed staring back at her.“I love you.” He told her suddenly, “and I didn’t realize it until today...y/n I thought you...” He took in a breath, ”died.”

“I love you too.“ y/n replied and Fred smiled the most genuine smile.

Then they were kissing. It had happened so fast, they had both leaned in at the same time, and now Fred was pulling her closer by the waist and smiling against her lips, and she pulled him closer by his collar and they were running out of breath but he still deepened the kiss and-

“Oi!” The two froze, turning their heads to see George in the doorway with two bowls of food. “Do you want to keep snogging or do you want..whatever this is?” He asked looking into the steaming bowl.

Fred thought for a moment “Honestly I’d rather-“

“You’re going to make me lose my appetite.“ George joked setting the bowls on the desk next to the doorway and began to leave. ”Let me know when you’re done snogging.“ He called back with a laugh.

The couple chuckled before Fred gestured towards the two bowls. “Are you hungry.”

y/n nodded, “starving.”

“Well lets eat then.” He said with a smile.

ok I should start my hw now XD

#hp #hp fanfic #hp imagine #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #imagines #reader insert

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

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Dick Grayson received condolences wherever he went. Recently, people in ‘Haven and on the force about everything he lost during the Blockbuster debacle (and he lost a lot.) Press and the public turning their faces down in a mask of sorrow after Jason, telling him it must have been so hard for him to lose a brother. And before that, when he first came to live with Bruce, every socialite looking at him through diamond-studded fingers wrapped around a bubbly champagne glass, telling him how sorry they were he lost his parents, how difficult it must have been to see them fall, how much he misses his family.

For once, they were right. Even after all these years, Dick missed his family more than anything. Dya and Dat were his parents, of course he missed them. But other than Bruce, the elite of Gotham had a rigid definition of family, and it would take far too much energy for Dick to explain to them why they were wrong.

Haleé was an old man, gruff in the way most people like him were. He was the patriarch of their cobbled-together family, someone who built up his life’s dream with nothing but a couple euros, the calluses on his hands, an old performer’s cane, and a recipe for chili that his Cajun mother had given him. He clasped everyone on the shoulder and taught Dick how to captivate an audience with a couple gestures. And every time Bruce looked up at him, concealed pride in his eyes but a mouth barking at him to try again, to do better this time, Dick took a deep breath and reminded himself that Haleé had left with the circus.

Georges the Strongman was one of the few Frenchmen Dick had ever met, but he was under the impression they weren’t supposed to be so...large. Dya had scolded him disapprovingly, and told him that was rude. Dat had snorted and agreed with him. Then again, Dya was Rom and had been to France before, while Dat grew up in Turkmenistan and his first trip to Europe had been with the troupe, so Dya was probably right. Either way, Georges’ muscles were larger than Dick’s head and he used them to sweep Dick up in hugs. He could do handstands on Georges’ shoulders, and his deep, rumbling chuckles were a staple of Circ d’Haleé, often accompanied by Dick’s own breathless laughter. (The few times Dick managed to get Jason to actually laugh, he had to blink back memories. And whenever he used Jason’s shoulders as a springboard, both in the field and for fun, those same breathless giggles came out when he heard Jason’s indignant sputters and curses.)

Befrî and Cemre were the most talented acrobats and contortionists Dick had ever met. The main reason Dick himself was so flexible was the routines they had taught him, practicing them early in the morning with a couple other members of the circus. Befrî and Cemre were from Buraydah, and though they told absolutely grand stories to Dick all the time, they refused to go back. Their bodies were lean and quick and clever, their minds even more so. Sly comments and remarks had Dick bursting out in peals of laughter, their determination and dedication to their art pushing Dick to do the same. (Even though he often reminded everyone he wasn’t a contortionist, it was always worth it to see his friends’ faces when he pulled his limbs into a position more than a touch unnatural.) Dick often caught Befrî in Tim’s clever little smirk, and Cemre’s eyes were narrowed in determination as he worked on a case. Then Dick blinked, and Tim was just Tim again.

Guillermina was just a teenager, but she could swallow fire. Dick remembered the night he met her. A stowaway from Mexico, she stumbled around Egypt, lost in a foreign land, before coming across Circ d’Haleé. Haleé had said, in that gruff manner of his, their troop was closed for the night and would not be accepting questions or paparazzo. In response, Guillermina stuck flames down her throat and juggled broken beer bottles she found on the floor, then begged in a hoarse voice, if she couldn’t stay could she at least have a meal. Haleé had stared at her, then asked if she went by Guillermina or Mina. She said neither, she went by Yiye, and after eavesdropping on the conversation, Dick had run up to give her a hug. Yiye was bold and reckless and utterly unafraid of the world, and Dick adored her. She taught Dick to juggle and she taught Dick to ride a unicycle and she taught Dick to throw his entire body and passion into everything he did. Whenever Dick found himself about to scold Damian for his daredevil, he caught sight of Yiye’s fire in his eyes, and found himself getting strung along.

There was a fortune teller in Circ d’Haleé. She went by Tsetvanya, except when she went by Apolonia, expect when she went by Mieczysław. (Isn’t Mieczysław a boy’s name? Dick had asked. She had laughed and said yes, yes it was.) She was Polish, except when she said she was swore up and down she was born and raised in Andorra, except when she said lightly she had always traveled and had long since had her roots ripped out. (An American had once asked if that made her a gypsy. He had meant it as some sort of backwards compliment. No one else even had to intervene because she had slapped him hard enough for her rings to cut into his face and make him bleed. Dya pulled the man away and explained, sternly, how rude that was. Dick doubts the man ever visited the Middle East again.) Whoever the fortune teller was, no matter what lies dripped from her lips, she still found the time to show Dick her hand-painted Tarot cards, to tell him stories, to warn him of the world’s dangers everyone else shielded him from. Her bones were brittle and her makeup was extravagant and her hugs were bony and every time someone brought up Alfred’s vast knowledge of the life and fierce protectiveness and general worldliness, Dick smiled to himself and thought, I think Alfred may have a contender.

Emilie the Lion tamer could read Dick as well as Cass and Raymond may have just worked behind the scenes but his homemade meals made everyone gather together just like Steph making breakfast and Tanuja’s kindness towards the troop and mischievousness towards the crowds was so much like Duke that it hurt. Dick had warred with himself over using Bruce’s and the League’s resources to find them, track them, check if they were okay, see if they remembered him. He always backed down.

They say after you lose someone, you can see signs of them everywhere you go, in the people you meet. Dick was constantly surrounded by his family, both versions of them, and the juxtaposition made him laugh, made him cry, made him miss Circ d’Haleé like a physical ache, made him beyond relieved he wasn’t with them anymore.

Because that night, Dick didn’t just lose his Dya and Dat, didn’t just loose his parents. He lost his entire family.

*bangs pots and pans together* IF YOU’RE GONNA WRITE ROM DICK GRAYSON FUCKING DO IT RIGHT. or, not really Rom, just not classically American in general. anyway, i bet you could guess how i had no idea how to end this thing. but here it is. tag list: @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @anothertimdrakestan @thebatsandbirdsofgotham @astroherogirl @subtleappreciation

#dick grayson #nightwing #haly's circus #dc #scribbles from the swamp #dick grayson headcanon #nightwing headcanon #dc headcanon #dick grayson ficlet #nightwing ficlet #dc ficlet #batfam #batfam headcanon #batfam ficlet

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team-cap-for-the-win · 4 years ago

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Let's talk about Steve Rogers, his journey in the MCU, and what changes I would make to maintain narrative coherence

Warning: long post, brief mentions of war, PTSD and depression

Just want to put a little disclaimer that this is in no way me declaring the definitve way it should have gone. Just giving some personal pointers and tweaks that I believe would make for a more compelling and satisfying story.

Let's start off with The First Avenger. This movie is fine, it does well with establishing Steve as a character, and hits emotional beats. Here's my hot take on the first Cap movie though (and what could have been in the later installments).

(I know, I know, these movies were meant for general audiences, but hear me out.)

If it had focused more on the horrors of war and how it destroys people, how the atrocities comitted forever changed soldiers' psyches... It could have had a pretty strong anti-war message.

Steve's story could have been a real metaphor for how young soldiers become so alienated from their former life that they feel like they cannot return home anymore. How war had taken everything from them, their youth, their future, their friends. When I watch the ending and Steve finds himself in the future, it's like he's in an alien world.

And he can't. Go. Back. He'll never be able to go back. He can only go forward. But how do you live in a world that feels strange and foreign to you, in a world that doesn't need WW2 soldiers anymore? How do you live in a world where you do not belong? Of course this would have required more turmoil on Steve's end. Surely he had seen (and maybe done...) terrible things that would cause him to have PTSD, or he could have clinical depression from his ordeals instead.

Now, the MCU does drop hints that Steve's not okay, but it doesn't go very far. It wouldn't need to be shown too much, but at the very least there could be scenes of positive coping mechanisms - like seeing a therapist, for an instance. That would make for good rep for mental ilness; while there could be some ugly bits shown too, because that comes with it, it is important to hammer home that it isn't something that defines Steve and he can put effort into living better.

(Here I shall take a moment to note: we were so close to getting more stuff like this in the movies. For instance, there's a bunch of deleted scenes from the first Avengers movie which whow how lost and sad Steve really is. Winter Soldier very subtly points to the direction that Steve isn't happy and doesn't know how to achieve happiness. And another instance I can think of is in the beginning of Civil War, where Crossbones brings up Bucky and Steve freezes up. If that was framed differently, it could put another layer to the entire conflict...)

Once again, all this would make a for a great story of recovery and healing, as Steve adapts to his new life and finds friends and love again.

Another thing to factor in is Bucky: a ghost from Steve's past. If we had gotten Serpent Society, we could have got a lot more content regarding their relarionship. In my humble opinion, it would have been really good if Steve had to accept that the old Bucky was no more, but that it's not necessarily a bad thing. Likewise, the old Steve is gone too. But they can make it work. And start over.

Ultimately, he would not return to the past, because that's something he was forced to leave behind. He can only go forward, remember? That's what all of us can do. All of the stuff that I've mentioned leads to the conclusion that for his story to make narrative sense, he would stay in the present.

Which brings the big question. How do you gently scoop him out of the MCU after Endgame without killing him off?

I considered two options:

Somewhere along the way, he gets deserumed, and while he can't really do field work anymore, he's still a strategic genius and he can do a lot to help out others. He chooses to live, and his life is something he gets to experience off screen. Bonus if he starts dating Sharon.

Much like the first option, but he stays as he is. He decides to live, and maybe goes on a soul-searching journey before figuring out what comes next, gets together with Sharon - once again, this can be left wide open, and we as the audience let him experience his life on his own.

Of course; this creates some issues. For one, Steve is a person that doesn't quit fighting for others. And two, it would be difficult to explain his absence in the future Marvel movies.

But all of that could be technically shoved to the sidelines as the new characters come into focus, and we, as the audience, suspend our disbelief in favour of narrative completion. If we can do that for characters like Bruce Banner, why not Steve?

And hey, I never said he has to disappear completely. He can still be mentioned, working for SHIELD, or maybe even have cameos if Cevans was up for that.

If the story was structured this way, I believe it would be more hopeful and powerful. Even lost, battered souls like Steve can find their way again with the help of others. Back away from the edge and enjoy life... live.

And I think that would be beautiful.

TLDR; Marvel let me rewrite the MCU because I think doing it somewhat this way could have improved the narrative coherence of Steve's story and give a more sarisfying conclusion to this character.

#mcu critical #endgame critical #steve rogers #captain america #personal #meta #mcu rewrite #pro steve rogers #long post #i hope you like this because i gave it a lot of thought #also that bit about soldiers being unable to come home #that may have been influenced by me reading All Quiet On The Western Front recently #it's a very good and sad read that i highky recommend

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tarithenurse · 4 years ago

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Impervious

Fandom: MCU / TFATWS Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader Content: Mentions of hate/harrasment, bad weather, sadness, awkwardness, fluff. A/N: This is my contribution to @princessmisery666 ‘s Daily Mix Challenge! She tossed me a song I’ve never heard before (Skin – by Sabrina Carpenter) and listening to the lyrics I had the image of a highschool prom dance scene where the main character is dancing with the partner while the jealous ass holes are staring daggers....but instead I ended up writing this – oops? Hope you enjoy! And thank you for a lovely challenge!

Impervious

I should delete my Twitter too. The day has only just begun but haters never seem to sleep, filling your online existence with a shit-ton of “negativity”.

It wasn’t as if you had planned it. It just happened!

Thinking back, you can’t help smiling at the memory of that morning a couple of years ago.

Way too early in November, cold and wet and absolutely not a day where you really wanted to be out in the horrendous morning rush and trying to weave in and out between people, with a cooling coffee in one hand, phone in the other, and an umbrella sandwiched dangerously by your shoulder and chin. Nope, the day was shitty and had just plummeted further as you hung up: you’d just had a contract cancelled. At least you wouldn’t be late.

Ready to give up your attempt at adulting (without the prospect of a new gig), you didn’t pay attention to your surroundings for a moment. Just a few seconds. But of course, that’s all it would take to ram straight into someone, crushing the paper cup between the two of you and jostling him to spill his own coffee.

On any other day, you’d probably have handled it more graciously. This day...not so much.

Scrambling for your phone (ugh, it had landed in the biggest puddle available and cracked), you rattled off frantic excuses while trying to hold back the tears. Then your umbrella got snagged by the wind and someone bumped into you, forcing you onto hands and knees and it was all...just...too much.

“Hey baby girl, don’t worry. Don’t cry,” his voice was warm and soothing just like his hands as they gripped yours, brushing off dirt gently with his sleeve, “don’t cry, ’s gonna be fine. See? No harm, no foul.”

There were scars on his hands – especially his knuckles had seen a lot of use, disrupting the gentleness of the dark skin with odd patterns – but they were steady and welcoming then as they cupped your elbows.

Still trying to push out excuses (at this point as much for your own reaction as the accident itself) between hiccups, you were not prepared for him.

His coat was practical and glistening from the rain that gathers on the treated material rather than soak into it...as opposed to your own old jacket that could double as a sponge.

“Just breathe,” he smiled from under the hood, “and stop apologizin’, ‘aight?” Well, you did shut up, too stunned by the crooked smile and the sunshine peeping out at you from his eyes. “That’s better. Lemme just grab this -” he bend for the remains of your phone -”and then...maybe I can offer ya somethin’ warm to drink?”

“Shouldn’t...shouldn’t I do that?” Your voice began to rise once more despite your best intentions. “I wasn’t watchi-”

“Nope.” You liked the way the P popped. “Gotta make sure ya fine...that’s kinda my thing, y’know.”

“O-okay...”

He had done just that: brought you to a warm café and hooked you up with their biggest mocha with chocolate powder on top (he even secured you a seat close to the heater) while still chatting about random things to calm you down.

But then his phone had rang and he’d have to leave.

You never got around to ask about his name...but later, when your brain decided to finally cooperate, you realized you didn’t have to: you had just been helped by Sam Wilson, former Falcon and the new Captain America.

That could have been the end of that.

It left you with dreams you neither wanted to share with anyone nor forget. Something inside you had woken up, wanting company but finding nothing but solitude – not that you technically were alone, of course.

You found yourself reading about Wilson’s heroic deeds both before and after the Avengers...and you kept noticing the little details that people seemed to ignore on the gossip pages or in the headlines. You fell for the man without the wings and shield.

A month later (and thankfully a few seasonal jobs too), you walked from the subway towards your little apartment after a long shoot. It was late and you were too tired to notice much about your surroundings until the winter boots of someone appeared in your lowered field of vision, making you jerk back to attention.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya,” Sam Wilson smiled disarmingly.

You were several blocks from home still. The streetlight flickered, stretching the shadows from a nearby dumpster, and towering above you were windows which all tried to block out the world for the sake of the residents living there.

“What are you doing here?” You bit your tongue in regret immediately. “I-I mean uhm...you didn’t...didn’t scare me...”

If he had been offended, Sam didn’t show it. Instead he just smiled that crooked smile, flashing what you were absolutely certain must be the prettiest tooth gap. “Let me walk ya home for starters?”

“...sure.”

It wasn’t winter anymore inside you when he was there. It was as good as you were ever going to get, knowing your dreams were unrealistic, so of course you decided to enjoy it for a little while. You walked side by side with him, basking in his warm presence until you were chatting as if he was an old friend.

“You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here, Sam.”

The two of you had come to a stop outside your complex. Fidgeting with your keys in the pocket, you wished that you could keep walking with him.

“Well...I was just gonna check in on you but now...this gonna sound crazy,” he pauses to scratch under the scarf, “...I was kinda hopin’ you’d let me finish that coffee with ya some day?”

He was still smiling although a bit more timidly and more towards the winter boots.

“I’d like that.” Inside you, a million sparklers were lit. “Tomorrow?”

“Hey baby girl, what ya smiling like a goof for?”

Sam’s voice calls you back to the real world – a real world where he’s coming over to you on the couch with a big mug of fresh coffee.

“You.” Closing the laptop, you push it away in favour of your boyfriend. “I was remembering how we bumped into each other.”

The memory makes him smile the way you love. “Best day in my life.”

“Same for me.” You kiss him. “I wouldn’t give us up for anything or anyone.” Not even jealous haters.

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hysterialevi · 3 years ago

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Hjarta | Final Chapter

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

Author’s note: Holy shit I can’t believe it’s already the last chapter. Thank you guys so much for sticking with this story from the start, and for sending me wonderful comments/messages of support. I really had fun writing this fanfic and interacting with you all, so I hope you’ll enjoy this last part of Hjarta. This story seriously means a lot to me, and it makes my day to know how many of you liked it. Stay awesome :)

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter

THRYMR’S TOMB

A WHILE LATER

“Eivor!” Sigurd called out through the storm, forcing his way across the snow. “Are you there?”

The prince shielded his face from the frost with a protective arm and squinted, desperately searching for his lover as he wandered blindly through the fog. The young man had disappeared from the battle not too long ago, and seemingly taken Kjotve’s fate into his own hands. What became of either of them still remained a mystery to Sigurd, and as more time passed by, he found himself feeling increasingly worried for Eivor’s life.

“Eivor!” He repeated a tad louder this time. “Say something! Can you hear me?”

Much to his relief, a faint voice answered from a distance.

“...I’m here, Sigurd...!”

Inching closer towards the voice, the older man ventured deeper into the mist and peered forward, only to spot the outline of a familiar shadow trudging in his direction.

Eivor was sauntering underneath the sun’s blurred rays with a slight hiccup in his step, and fresh blood clinging to his axe. His face seemed to be wiped clean of all the energy that once burned in his eyes, and yet, he appeared to be... at peace.

A calming aura could be seen blossoming from his heart like a single flower in a barren field, and in a strange way, it almost looked as if he had completely forgotten about the war. Not a single hint of dread or terror weathered his blissful expression, and the ribbons of sunlight dancing above him only added to his soothing demeanor.

Sigurd picked up his pace and began jogging, eagerly rushing to rejoin his lover.

“Eivor...!” He said with a sigh of relief, immediately pulling the man into a hug. “There you are.”

Eivor allowed his head to sit on Sigurd’s chest, giving himself some time to breathe.

“...Sigurd,” he whispered out of exhaustion, “...I did it. I actually did it.”

The prince continued cradling the younger man in his embrace, providing him with a sense of warmth amidst all the snow.

“What happened to you, Eivor? Where’s Kjotve? I saw you run off with him earlier. Is he dead? Did you... did you kill him?”

Eivor nodded and closed his eyes, not even bothering to say a word.

“Truly...?” Sigurd asked, staring at the other man in disbelief.

Could it really be possible that the battle was already finished? It hadn’t been too long ago that the prince was barely evading death’s grasp, and now, the storm had suddenly passed. Part of him found the news too good to be true considering the path they used to get here, and yet, something in Eivor��s tone rang with sincerity.

Sigurd tightened his grip on the smaller warrior and chuckled out of elation, nearly breaking into tears. “Then it’s over. The war... is finally over.”

He brought a hand to Eivor’s chin, lifting it gently so that he could see his face.

“What about you, my love? Are you well?”

The Wolf-Kissed displayed a subtle smile, radiating as if he were the moon itself.

“...I am. For the first time since that night... I’m okay.”

Sigurd returned the smile and cupped the back of Eivor’s head, pulling him close so that he could plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Good.”

Staying snuggled in each other’s arms, the couple took some time to enjoy the peace as the storm steadily died down around them, allowing more and more of the sun to break through. The crippling mist that had built up during the battle was slowly beginning to fade, and soon enough, nothing but a vast blue sky remained hovering above them.

Unbeknownst to Sigurd however, a third party had already found them and walked in on their brief reunion, but had not yet announced their presence.

In the distance, Arngeir quietly watched the scene in front of him unfold with a sense of shock clouding his mind, causing him to gawk incredulously. Even though he suspected that the prince would be somewhere in the vicinity with his son, he did not expect the two of them to be enwrapped in such a loving embrace.

...How long had they felt like this, he wondered? Was their bond something that had been ignited due to the recent string of battles, or had this been carrying on ever since Styrbjorn first arrived?

The jarl was honestly at a loss. He held no disgust in his heart for the peculiar couple before him, but he couldn’t deny that he was taken aback. Despite his knowledge of Sigurd and Eivor’s friendship in the past, he never would’ve guessed that there was something deeper between them.

Though, the more Arngeir thought about it, he supposed there really was nothing peculiar about their relationship. The knot that intertwined their fates was made of pure, genuine love delivered straight from the hands of Freya, and to his surprise, he just couldn’t bring himself to interfere.

It was something he hadn’t seen in ages thanks to the horrors of this war, but now that it was over, Arngeir figured he may as well let his doubts die with it.

He had had enough of tragedy.

Turning on his heel, the jarl decided to leave the couple alone and returned to the other half of the island, ready to inform his clan of their miraculous victory. He still didn’t know whether he’d tell Styrbjorn about his unanticipated discovery or not, but one thing was for certain.

Kjotve’s kingdom had finally fallen.

In spite of all the obstacles Styrbjorn’s people faced, his entire bloodline had been struck down, and his throne had been left unattended. No one in Norway would ever hear of his clan again, and his fortress would be left to crumble under the weight of the absence that consumed it.

The barbarian king was vanquished. Just like his legacy.

~~~~~~~~~~

THE NEXT DAY

BJORNHEIMR, THE LONGHOUSE

Sigurd placed the last of his belongings in the crate sitting before him, reminiscing as he stood in the middle of his chambers. It felt like a lifetime ago that he was first packing his things in preparation for the journey to Bjornheimr, and now, he was getting ready to leave.

After ages of enduring this war and accepting it as his reality, the prince had suddenly found himself in a world where Kjotve was no longer a problem, and his clan had been reduced to ashes in the wind.

A new era had been brought about thanks to their victory at Thrymr’s Tomb, and the kingdom now celebrated in harmony to honor the peace that had finally been restored.

Despite the jovial mood of his people however, Sigurd admittedly didn’t know how to process the whole situation himself. Part of him rejoiced due to the fact that he’d never have to deal with Kjotve’s cruelty again, but he would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t have his regrets.

He didn’t come out of this unscathed, after all. The Raven Clan may have emerged victorious from their fight against the barbarian king, but there were still many wounds that needed mending... including Dag’s loss.

Sigurd still remembered his last conversation with the man as if it happened yesterday. Even though Dag proved to be a traitor in his final moments, the prince just couldn’t bring himself to discard the memories they once shared, or the fondness that followed. In his eyes, the fallen warrior would always be that same little boy who kept him company as a child, and pulled him away from the darkness when his mother passed on.

As for the Dag he executed, Sigurd would remember him as no more than a fragment of his childhood friend, and the result of a man who had been crippled by his own jealousy. He would be a reminder for the prince to never fall prey to his demons, lest he lose the soul he had fought so long to preserve. It was what he owed his parents after all these years, and to himself.

Letting out a remorseful sigh, Sigurd shook his head and silenced the thoughts that threatened to encompass his mind, not willing to entertain his grief any further. He would never forget the loved ones he had lost during the events of this war, but for his own sake -- he had to move on.

Lifting up the crate with a soft grunt, Sigurd secured the box in his arms and began striding towards the archway, only to stop in his tracks when he noticed someone waiting for him.

At the moment, Eivor was standing on the other side of the door with his hands linked together and his head hanging low, clearly disheartened by Sigurd’s upcoming departure. His gaze swept in the floor in an attempt to avoid confronting the absence he would soon have to accept, and even the sight of the prince himself wasn’t able to lift his mood.

“Eivor...!” Sigurd greeted. “You came.”

The Wolf-Kissed stepped tentatively into the room, staring at his lover as if this was the last time they’d ever meet.

“Of course I did. I wanted to see you again before...” his expression sank slightly, “...before you left.”

Sigurd took note of the shift in his lover’s mood and placed the crate down for a moment, gently gripping Eivor’s wrist in a comforting manner.

“Eivor,” he said in a gentler tone, “...you know I have to go.”

“I do. I just wish you could stay longer. We spent so much of our time worrying about the people we lost that... we forgot we still had each other. But now that you’re leaving, it’s all I can think about.”

Sigurd lifted a hand to Eivor’s cheek and brushed away a lock of hair, tucking it neatly behind his ear.

“You can still come with me. You know that, right? I realize we’ve had this conversation before, but if you truly want us to stay together, I can arrange that.”

In spite of his sorrow, the younger man remained staunch in his decision. “I’m sorry, Sigurd, but I must remain here. As much as I wish I could go with you, Bjornheimr needs me. My father needs me. I’m the only family he has left apart from Randvi, and she’ll be gone too.”

Sigurd nodded sympathetically. “Very well. If that’s what you wish.”

Eivor paused briefly, switching to a different concern on his mind. “...You will visit me, right? This won’t be the last time I’ll see you?”

“Of course not,” the prince reassured. “I can’t say when I’ll have the chance to return to Bjornheimr, but -- I promise you -- as soon as the opportunity reveals itself, I’ll be here again.”

The other man didn’t appear any less forlorn, but accepted the promise nonetheless.

“I’ll be waiting. But until then...” Eivor leaned forward, pecking a goodbye kiss on Sigurd’s lips, “...stay safe, my love. I wish nothing but happiness for you.”

The prince pressed his forehead against Eivor’s, cherishing their last few minutes together.

“The same goes for you. My duties may require me to start a new life in preparation for the throne, but I’ll never forget everything you’ve done. Thank you. I mean it.”

Taking a few more moments to bask in each other’s company, the two of them simply cuddled in silence before separating the embrace, and retreating to the shells they so often wore around the rest of the village.

The sun had managed to climb to the top of the sky’s apex by now, and most of the Raven Clan were already gathered at the docks. The longships were fit to set sail after an entire morning’s worth of preparations, and their people were eager to return home. The only thing they needed now... was the presence of their prince himself.

“I suppose it’s time for me to leave.” Sigurd noted somberly, reluctantly taking hold of the crate once again. “Care to join me for the walk to the ship?”

Eivor concealed his pain with a friendly veil and stepped to the side, allowing Sigurd some room to walk through the doorway.

“After you, my friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A LITTLE LATER

THE DOCKS

Walking alongside one another as they headed towards the shore, Eivor and Sigurd strolled silently through the village with a bittersweet relief resting in their spirits, clouding their minds like the smoke of a cold pyre.

It brought them both great joy to see Kjotve’s reign finally come to an end, but they couldn’t stop themselves from wondering what waited beyond the horizon now that the war was over.

Was this the start of Sigurd’s life as a future king? Would he and Randvi truly be the rulers of Norway one day? How was he even going to raise a family? The prince had never planned to be a father, and a part of him wanted to scream at the thought of being forced to hide his true emotions once again.

He didn’t want to forget Eivor, or the things they experienced together. These past few weeks had been some of the best and worst moments of his life, and he dreaded the idea of allowing their bond to fade into a distant memory. But for the sake of his kingdom, Sigurd knew he had to leave the man behind if he wanted any chance of becoming a decent leader.

It was his duty, after all. Styrbjorn had managed to keep his end of the promise in regards to battling his addiction, so the prince figured it would only be fair if he upheld his own. Personal thoughts and desires no longer mattered within the realm of royalty. From this day on, Sigurd would be living to serve his people -- not himself.

“There they are.” He remarked, gesturing towards the end of the pier. Eivor followed Sigurd’s line of sight, only to spot Styrbjorn, Arngeir, and Randvi all waiting by the longship.

“So this is it then,” he said, already missing the prince’s company. “This is where we part ways.”

Sigurd shared his partner’s disappointment, but tried to keep a strong face nonetheless. “For now. You and I will be separated for some time, but I’ll visit you as much as I can. And you’re always welcome in Fornburg too, should you ever wish to come to me instead.”

“Thank you. I’ll consider it.”

Eivor placed a hand on the side of the prince’s arm, saying one last thing while he still had the chance.

“...Wait, Sigurd. Before you go.”

The older man came to a pause, giving Eivor a curious glance. “Yes? What is it?”

The Wolf-Kissed stuttered, admittedly unsure of where he was taking this. He didn’t have anything in particular he wanted Sigurd to hear -- he just hoped to keep him around for a little longer.

“Erm, n-nothing. I just wanted to say I love you.”

Sigurd smiled warmly at the comment despite Eivor’s awkwardness and chuckled lightly, attempting to comfort him.

“I love you too, Eivor. Never forget it.”

Leaving the younger man with those words, Sigurd carried on with the task at hand and sauntered towards the ship, placing the crate down by the boarding plank as one of the oarsmen came to assist him. Meanwhile, Styrbjorn greeted the two men with a cheery temperament, happy to get things going.

“Sigurd, Eivor!” The king exclaimed jovially. “It’s good to see you both in one piece after the battle yesterday. We lost many warriors during the assault at Thrymr’s Tomb, but now, we at least have the luxury of saying that their deaths weren’t in vain...” he turned to the Wolf-Kissed, “...and it’s all thanks to you, my boy.”

Eivor bowed his head in a humble manner. “I only did what was required of me.”

Styrbjorn let out a soft laugh. “Nonsense. Sigurd has told me of the tenacity you displayed on the battlefield. You showed great courage, and you fought with honor. It is thanks to your efforts that Kjotve now lies in a frigid tomb.”

Arngeir joined in. “Indeed. Had it not been for your valor, we would all still be bound by Kjotve’s chains. Varin would be proud of you, Eivor. And Ulfar too.”

“Thank you, father.”

Eivor brought his attention to Styrbjorn, trying his best to hide the sorrow lurking within him. “...So, I imagine you’ll be departing soon?”

To his surprise, the king appeared to have other things in mind. “Actually, there is something else your father and I would like to discuss first. Something that concerns you and my son.”

Sigurd froze at that, already suspicious of where this was leading. “...W-What do you mean?”

Arngeir stepped forward, hesitant to speak any further. “Forgive my being candid, but we are aware of the relationship between you two.”

Eivor instantly felt the color drain from his face, and he could’ve sworn he saw his own soul fleeing from his body.

“You-- what?”

“Do not be alarmed, my son. I am not here to pass judgement. Only to offer a proposal.”

“But... how? How did you find out?”

Arngeir crossed his arms in thought. “Yesterday, during the battle. Sigurd and I left the fort in order to search for you. We noticed you had disappeared at some point, and feared you may be in danger. Though, by the time I stumbled upon you, you had already found your way to the prince.”

“That means... you saw us...”

“...Embracing one another, yes. I apologize, Eivor. I did not mean to intrude.”

The young man exchanged glances with Sigurd, terrified to see the outcome of this discovery. “So, what does this mean for us? Are we to face punishment?”

Arngeir shook his head. “No. Quite the contrary, actually. I realize it isn’t my place to speak about this -- and for that I am sorry -- but I admit I shared this news with Styrbjorn once we returned, for I had an idea in mind that I wished to broach.”

That caught Sigurd’s attention. “An idea? About what?”

Styrbjorn provided the answer. “About this alliance, of course. You see, when we first arranged this marriage between you and Randvi, we did so with the intention of forming an ironclad bond. A bond born out of love. We believed it would be a way to ensure that our clans never fell apart, since our families would be intertwined from that day on. Clearly however, we were mistaken.”

The jarl nodded in agreement. “Indeed. It seems that the bond we were looking for... had been between you two all along.”

Arngeir trailed off into silence for a moment, considering his next words.

“Listen, both of you. Styrbjorn and I had a long conversation yesterday once I revealed my discovery. We discussed many things pertaining to this alliance, and after our talk, we came to the conclusion that... this marriage is no longer necessary.”

Sigurd’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait, are you saying that it’s over?”

“Ultimately, the choice lies with you. If you wish to end this marriage, and if Eivor decides to go in Randvi’s stead, then I have already told Styrbjorn that I have no qualms with it.”

The prince immediately looked at his lover, radiating with a newfound hope.

“Eivor...! Think about it. You could join me, just like we wanted.”

The Wolf-Kissed glanced at Arngeir, double-checking with him first.

“But what about you, father? Are you certain about this? I don’t want to abandon you.”

The jarl gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “Do not fret, Eivor. You’re not abandoning anybody. If you choose to stay with Sigurd, then Randvi will remain here in your place. Neither of us will be alone.”

Randvi suddenly jumped into the conversation, encouraging her brother to follow his desires.

“Go on, Eivor. It’s okay. Father and I will have each other. We’ll rebuild Bjornheimr, and return this village to what it once was. By the time you come back, this place will be thriving more than it ever did. In the meantime, go with Sigurd. A new life awaits you in Fornburg. Don’t let this opportunity pass.”

“She’s right, Eivor,” Arngeir said. “All I’ve ever wanted for any of you is to be happy. If you believe that being with Sigurd is best for you, then go.”

The young man stumbled over his words, rendered completely speechless by how this scenario had turned out. When he awoke this morning, he never imagined that he’d be given the option to freely roam the kingdom at Sigurd’s side, living with him as if they were family.

If anything, Eivor fully expected that he would be bidding the prince farewell, and left to wallow in the melancholy that had formed in his heart during this past month. So much anger and regret had taken control of his spirit’s reins ever since the news of Sigurd’s departure, and now... it was all gone. Just like that.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” he replied. “...Thank you, father. You can’t imagine how much this means to me.”

A gleeful expression spread across the jarl’s face. “I’m glad, Eivor.”

Randvi wrapped her arms around her younger brother, pulling the man into one last hug before saying goodbye.

“We’ll miss you, little cub. Take care of yourself, and each other. Alright?”

“We will. I promise.”

The woman gave him a playful shove. “Then get out of here. And make sure to knock plenty of skulls. Let the world know who we are.”

Eivor chuckled at the response, grinning from ear-to-ear. “The Bear Clan’s name will be fluttering from the lips of every bard in Norway when I’m done. I assure you. Until then, farewell, and thank you for all you’ve given me.”

The Wolf-Kissed walked over to Sigurd’s side, openly taking hold of his hand for the first time since they met. The prince’s eyes were twinkling with a vibrant ray of hope at this point, and a familiar sense of contentment had finally returned to his soul.

“Come, my love,” Eivor ushered. “Fornburg awaits.”

~~~~~~~~~~

LATER THAT DAY

Steadily gliding across the ocean’s hills, the longship broke free from the harbor and began heading out towards the vastness of the open sea, prepared to deliver its occupants back home after a long and arduous battle.

Petals of snow could be seen dancing along the surface of the vessel’s billowing sails, and in the distance, the sun’s light shone through the mountains, causing the water below to shimmer with a glittering streak.

Birds soared in harmony with the wind that guided the longship’s course and left a trail of feathers in their wake, accompanying the warriors who sailed beneath their wings.

All the creatures of Midgard seemed to band together in celebration now that the age of war had perished, and the earth cried out in relief due to the lack of blood littering its soil.

As for Eivor, the man simply rested against the longship’s walls and marveled at the view in front of him, listening intently while Sigurd entertained him with tales of Fornburg’s wonders. The prince spoke of his home with a great fondness and constructed vivid images using only the movement of his hands, painting a clear picture for his companion.

Meanwhile, the oarsmen behind them burst into song and began reciting a number of sea shanties, singing heartily as if they were performing for the gods themselves. Their voices rang merrily into the sky like a horn of victory, and the world around them seemed to bloom with revival.

It was the start of a new dawn. After countless years of pointless death and suffering, the clans in Norway had become united under one crown, and Kjotve had paid the ultimate price. His name had been blotted out with the stain of a mad tyrant, and his victims had been released from their ethereal chains in the afterlife.

Most importantly though, Eivor no longer felt the need to hide who he was. The fantasy that once haunted him in his dreams had become a reality, and now, he was free to love Sigurd as any man would love his wife. The times of fear and judgement were over at last, and the alliance between their peoples had been reignited with a different bond.

Their relationship would be the foundation of many things to come, and just like Ingrida once said, they had finally found their way home after decades of straying from their fate.

It was what the Nornir planned all along, and the one thing Varin always wished for his son -- the one thing he could never achieve.

Freedom.

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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obsessiveyand · 3 years ago

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This is a retelling of one of my favorite scenes in AOT I retold it the way I act it out with my OC, its rusty af cause I literally typed it out so fast just to make sure I got it down while I had the chance, ill probable rewrite it eventually, Anyways enjoy this little introduction to my OC

"How did we end up like this? When did we start this path we were on, were the signs there? Could I of stopped it?" These were all questions Cpl. Light asked herself as she laid next to a still Levi, she could feel the grass and the dirt against her skin and clothing, she could see the stars above, what was it about tonight that made them seem brighter and more clear then ever.. Maybe it wad because everything almost ended.. almost..

She could hear Hange building the cart they intended on using to carry Levi to safety, safety.. did that even exist anymore.. tears quietly slipped down the side of her face as she thought about every step she had taken for her to end up here, merely a day ago she had soaked herself in the blood of those she risked her life to protect.. She knew if she hadn't of created an opening for Hange to escape, Levi would probable be dead by now, To be honest she had never expected to make it out of that field alive, she was only lucky Floch and a few others had turn to run, those who stayed fell to her blades the very blades she used to slay titans, to protect her people.

She flashes back to the explosion caused by Zeke, it happened so fast she had barely anytime to react properly, one minute she was at the reigns on the cart, listening to Levi talk shit to Zeke, the next thing she knew Levi was throwing himself in front of her, shielding her from the blast, the blast and the throw, followed by the nasty thump to the ground caused her to be disoriented, she felt a sharp pain in her leg but she didn't have time to figure out why. "L-Levi?" She called out weakly, her eyes finally starting to adjust and the ringing in her ears settling down, she looked just in front of her and what she seen sucked all the air out of her lungs, it felt like 1000 daggers were stabbing her all over, just ahead lied Levis broken body, covered in blood and badly injured. Through the pain Light manged to drag herself to Levi just close enough she was able to place her hand in his. "Please be alive!" She thought, but just before she had the chance to check the sound of approaching hooves broke her concentration, voices followed and she looked up to see who it was. The grass around her was long enough to hide her body in the moonlight, but unfortunately Levi laid in the open. She quickly realized it was a group of Yaegerists and she knew if they found Levi in this state they would never pass up their chance to finish him off, She prepared her mind and body to fight, quickly scanning the group counting how many she could see and preparing to risk her life to protect the one person she held dearer to her than anyone else, These thoughts were quickly interrupted by a familiar voice. "Tch is that Hange?" She thought to herself, and of course like a miracle from above Hange quickly approached.

"Eeeyyaahhh its Captain Levi! But I think.. hes dead.. " Hange called out to the group behind her, then suddenly she locked eyes with Light laying in the grass Grasping to Levis hand with a furious look of desperation in her eyes. "H-Hange, please save him" she cried. "I can't do anything without a distraction, there's too many of them" Hange responded in a hushed tone. Light shook her head and prepared to stand "Be ready to run, I will fight for your opening" Light said with a small groan and she forced her body up wincing in pain as she stood "prepare to Run Hange, no matter what happens you get Levi out of here" Light said with force and she finally stood straight pulling her blades from her ODM and stepping in front on Hange and Levi. A hush goes over the crowd of horse back riders as she places herself in a fighting stance before calling out to them.

"Most of you here know me! But for those who don't, I am Cpl. Light, those who do know me know I have fought with the surgery corps for years! Next to Commander Erwin Smith and Captain Levi I'm the best fighter they got, I've risked my life for all of you and today I stand here ready to kill any of you who try to step forward, if any of you try to lay a single hand on Captain Levi, I will not hesitate to slice you into pieces, I see your guns, and if you think you can shoot before I slice through you all, than I urge you to TAKE YOUR SHOT" Light yells out before rushing forward towards the crowd "Tsk, this is your chance Hange, don't fuck it up, get the hell out of here and don't look back" She thinks to herself before shooting her gear off into the crowd, using the grapples to injure those in the proximity, screaming begins and the shooting starts as Light cuts her way through the comrades she once swore to protect, tears streamed down her face mixed with the blood of her fellow humans that splattered across her skin.

"Damn it! Shes a god damn monster!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND SHOOT HER" "Shes too fast! I can't get a good shot!""Fuck this im getting out of here" suddenly Flochs voice can be heard above all "Retreat out, before she kills you all!" Light turns to try and chase after him, if she could kill him here and now the Yeagerists wouldn't have a leader she had to do it now, just as she was about to make haste a loud bang rung out and a sharp pain went through the right side of her body, her adrenaline ran so fast she barely stopped, swinging around she finished cutting through those who didn't run, finally the screaming and shooting stopped and Light stood there her blades dripping in blood, she fell to her knees and let out a loud scream, Floch had escaped and she slaughtered too many of her people, yes Levi had escaped but, she didn't even know if he was still alive at this point. She screamed again her blades clattered to her side as she grabbed her head, the pain she was feeling from the battle outweighed her physical pain, this was it, she was ready to give up, she fought so long and hard to protect her friends, and this is where it lead her. She closed her eyes and breathed short shallow breaths, her mind became foggy as she stared at the bodies around her. Never in her life did she imagine she would have to slay humans, even if it was go protect the love of her life. "Hmph I'm sure Hange made it out by now.. she's probable setting up camp somewhere..I'm sorry Hange but.. I don't think I'll be coming to you this time." She said softly as tears streamed down her face mixing with the rain that poured down upon her. She was done fighting, she was at the end of everything everything she had been through, it was too much. Just as she was about to close her eyes and lay down for the last time, the sun beamed through the clouds making a break in the rain, the sun beamed down on her coating her body in warmth, he eyes fluttered open and she could barely believe her eyes, standing before her were her fallen comrades, Petra, Ian, Mike, Ooluo, Erwin and all the others. "M-my comrades.. have you come.. to take me home" she asked reaching out her hand to the ethereal figures. Erwins kneeled down silently placing his hand on her shoulder and staring her firmly in the face with the same nonchalant smile he would always flash in dire times, Petra was the one to speak, bending down she smiled "Light, Levi still needs you, you can't give up yet, its not time" Petras words resonated through lights entire body, she looked at them all and sobbed as she watched her fallen comrades smile and salute her before drifting off into the closing clouds that engulfed that bit of sun that shined down. Light blinked a few times before shaking her head and hitting herself on the top of the head with her fist. "DAMN IT!" She cried out before returning her fist to the ground hitting it a few times before slowly pushing herself up "Damn you, damn you all for putting your faith in me, for giving me your strength.. for making me strong.." she cried out as she struggled to stand, suddenly just as she was about to collapse almost as if she had a guardian somewhere out there, a single horse that survived the assault came riding up to her "No fucking way.. I guess .. I guess it really wasn't my time huh Petra, looks like I'll make good on that promise after all.." She sighs and gently pet the horse that rose up to her, with the last of her strength she managed to hike herself onto the back of the horse "Take me to them horsie .. take me to my family" was the last thing she managed to mumble before passing out ontop of the horse.

A few hours had passed, Hange had made it to a safe place in the middle of the forest, here she set up a camp and tended to Levis wounds, it was only a few hours later that she heard something approaching, Hange quickly jumped up ready to fight for her life if needed, but what she seen shocked her a single horse, and the rider looked heavily injured. "EEEYYAAHHH LIGHT IS THAT YOU!?" Hange called out before running towards the horse. "Damnit light you better be breathing or I swear I'm gonna kill you!" A distraught Hange calls as she gently helps the injured corporal off the horse. "H-Hange? Is that you?" She spoke weakly "Yes! Its me Hange, I'm here and so are you, you're alive! You're safe!" Hange exclaimed helping the wounded Light towards the fire "How did you get here?? How did you find us?!" Hange asked as she say Light down next to the fire quickly tending to the bullet wound in her shoulder and the open wound in her leg from the explosion. Light shakes her head and winces in pain as Hange bandages her up fishing out the bullet and stray shrapnel from the explosion from her skin "I ... I don't know, But.. I seen Erwin and the others.. I know it sounds crazy but I think they lead me here..." she looks down and shakes her head "Hange I was ready to give up.. I was done fighting, and then, our comrades came to me they filled me with strength, then that horse came along and the next thing I know.. I'm here" Light shook her head again "I know thats crazy right.." she turns to look at Hange who had silent tears of relief slipping down her cheeks "No Light, that doesn't sound crazy to me, look who you're talking to here im the leader of crazy.. sometimes in dire situations miracles can happen, and if you ask me it sounds like what happened was a miracle, it just shows our comrades are always watching over us" hange said with a grin and her classic Hange chuckle. "We should get you cleaned up, you're covered in blood.." she paused "I won't ask what you had to do to survive.. I have a pretty good idea already, but... don't let it ruin you okay? You did what you had to do to save us, and thats what matters right?" Light nods her head and burrows her face in her hands letting out more sobs before finally using the last of the energy she had, she let out a long sigh before standing up again and moving towards Levi "How is he?" She asked as she laid herself down next to him, she reached her hand out and gently brushed the hair from his forehead, his skin was hot and she could see the beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. Hange walked over and kneeled down observing Levi "Well.. hes alive, honestly the rest is up to him.." she said breathy "you should get some rest.. we don't know what's coming for us after this.." Light nods her head and quickly drifts off into a tormented sleep, waking up multiple times in a cold sweat screaming out, Luckily Hange was there to sooth her back to sleep each time. A day has gone by, and Hange decided it was best to start preparing to move out, she had already begun building a way to transport Levi

"Hey Hange.. would it be so bad.. if we just stayed here.. ya know, let the battle end itself and just worry about the three of us instead.. " Light said softly still looking at the sky above her, it was silent and you could hear the crackling of the fire near her, Hange stopped building and turn to peer at Light.

"Light.. to be honest, I was thinking the same thing" Hange pauses and takes a deep breath before too looking up at the stars above the trios head "Why can we all just live here, together, just the three of us.. thats what I thought to myself just now.." she stops again to turn back to Light and Levi "But you know damn well when shorty wakes up he's gonna wanna keep fighting ya know, thats just.. who he is.. its why he's still alive, he's a fighter and a survivor.." Hange sighs again before returning to building the cart. "He would never roll over and leave the others to fight our fight, and that's why we keep going, because otherwise we are just leaving him to fight alone, and that would make us bad friends dontcha think?" She finished with a small sigh, her words sunk deep into my brain and I thought long and hard about what she said, Hange was right, she usually was but she was especially right this time, If Hange and her stayed Levi would still go fight, so she had to stay strong and keep fighting for the life of her comrades.

Her thoughts and tears were interrupted when she felt a familiar squeeze on her hand. She sat up quickly, turning to look at the once still Levi, he had finally waken up. "H-Hange!" She exclaimed "Hes awake!" Hange jumped up when she heard Light call out and quickly ran over to be by their side."Oh thank the walls Levi, I'm not gonna lie we were starting to worry about you" Hange says in a breathy tone, she had been trying to keep it together for Lights sake but inside she was just as terrified and unsure as Light was.

Tears of joy replaced her tears of regret and she let out heavy sobs of relief before collapsing down near him, she wrapped her arms around him in a gentle hug and sobbed into his shoulders uncontrollably as he lifts his non injured hand and lightly pats the top of her head. "Tsk, you're alright, I'm fine now, you don't have to worry anymore." He cooed softly as he rubbed the back of lights head soothing her for a moment before turning to Hange and speaking up "So four-eyes, why don't you tell me what happened while I was asleep, and Hanges right. I would still fight." Levi speaks sternly

End of excerpt

I hope you enjoyed my retelling with my OC please don't hate me

Also once again I AM NOT A WRITER so there is a lot of mistakes heh but it was fun, let me know what yall think okay, ill write more eventually, its kind of fun to type it out, I usually just act out scenes in my head but recently decided I should write them down for funsies LOL

I also realize some of timing is fucked up so basically it was supposed to take her a few hours to get to hange then she sleeps till the next day then the next day she thinks about what happened the day before so its like a 2 day thing aahhh I'm really new at this forgiveforgive

#aot fanfiction #attack on titan #aot #captain levi #aot fanfic #levi fanfic #snk fanfiction #attack on titan fanfic #fanfic #levi attack on titan #aot oc #oc #levi ackerman #levi x you

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rainofaugustsith · 5 years ago

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One more thing: please spare me this “all Sith are evil and self-serving and only care about themselves” nonsense. In the pre-Darth Bane era that’s ridiculous, as much as it is to say all Jedi are good. This is the Sith code. There's nothing here about being selfish, racist or not caring about others. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me. It’s notable that there seems to be some leave in Sith society for Sith to interpret the Code as they will - there is a scene in the Inquisitor story where Ashara Zavros is frustrated with that lack of a unified philosophy. This isn’t “self serving,” in real-world religions there are often those who question, study and interpret differently. This is the Jedi code. There's nothing here about being selfless, being nice or caring for others. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force

From what is said, there’s less leave for Jedi to question and interpret the Code as they will, and more of a unified message. We see this in major world religions too. Neither one is wrong. We meet plenty of Sith who are horrible people, but the stories also show us numerous examples of Sith busting their asses to protect the Empire or the galaxy.

- Satele Shan accuses Scourge of helping defeat Vitiate for "selfish reasons." She never gives any indication what these reasons are, of course. Scourge sacrificed everything to help defeat Vitiate. He had a position of extreme power in the Empire - not even the Dark Council could stop him, and he answered only to Vitiate. He gave that up to help the Jedi that wanted his people dead, made himself a traitor to his own faction, and was risking his own immortality. That doesn't seem at all selfish to me. - Darth Marr volunteers his own resources defeat Revan in a Coalition with the Republic to save the galaxy. He later leads another coalition into Wild Space with the same goal. And when the ship goes down he doesn’t save his own ass, he’s running around literally trying to put out the fires himself. - Lana Beniko risks her neck multiple times to save the Empire and later to save the Alliance, to the point of literally jumping in front of the player to take a blaster shot in the stomach. There are several occasions in KOTFE and KOTET where she offers to sacrifice herself so the PC can get away. - The Sith Empire led by Acina puts themselves on the line to support the Alliance against Zakuul, when they could have easily sat back like the Republic. Defying Zakuul could have brought the Eternal Fleet down on their heads, and they did it anyway. - Khem Val, while technically not a Sith but still 'dark sided' literally sacrfices himself to stop Darth Zash from hollowing out the Sith Inquisitor and taking their body. If the Inquisitor died, he would have been free. - Darth Silthar on Tatooine doesn't send his men out into the dangerous field, he does it himself, and uses his last breath to utter a warning to the PC. - When the Sith Empire realizes that releasing the Dread Masters was actually a very, VERY bad idea, they clean up their own mess and devote their own troops to it. The Sith commander on Oricon is on the surface, doing everything he can to shield everyone else, even at his own expense. So where is this "all Sith are selfish and care only for themselves" thing coming from? Maybe the answer isn't in the Sith, but with the Jedi and how they operate. The Jedi serve the Republic for life. In SWTOR you are told that they serve the Republic even if they don't agree. They are not given a choice. In the newest update there is talk from General Daerunn of tracking down Jedi and making them come back to fight for the Republic even if they don't want to. The Jedis' duty is to serve, without question. The Sixth Line even puts this ethos into their modified code: There is no contemplation, but duty. The Jedi hammer this philosophy into their recruits from a young age: they are there to serve unquestionably. The Jedi's duty is to do the Republic's bidding. They are expected to forego love, relationships, families or their own personal lives to fulfill this mandate, and it is seen as noble and good. What about anyone who doesn't want to do that? What about anyone who wants to have some life of their own? Easy! You make emotions and dissent "the dark side." You make the dark side evil. You make it a Very Bad Thing for a Force sensitive to have any other goal in life than to unquestioningly serve their government. There's no other way to preserve the status quo of the Jedi as the Republic's eternal unpaid servants. If they go off and do what they want, or get to think about it, they might leave! Hammering this point home, the Jedi consider any other Force creed to be dark-sided, which isn't unlike some evangelical religions that think that they are the only ones going to Heaven. For example, there are a few exchanges in the Jedi class stories where Satele makes this claim about the Voss. The Voss, who use their Force sensitives to heal others through self-sacrifice in the Shrine of Healing (watch the Sith Warrior story - the Mystic takes her own strength and gives it to a sick person, and it's painful enough to make her cry), have precognitive visions and interpret them to help their people. There really doesn't seem much that is evil about that. Satele Shan says nothing about the Voss's practice of apartheid against the Gormak, but she's concerned about their use of the Force. And the Jedi Consular and Sith Warrior are asked to make the exact same sacrifice on Voss- to give their own strength to heal the sick in order to progress their mission somehow. Each can volunteer a companion to go in their place. But only for the Sith Warrior is that seen as dark sided and evil. Only for the Jedi Consular is it seen as selfless for the PC to step up on their own, when they are doing the exact same thing.

Point being, claiming that every action taken by a Sith is for their own benefit is as silly as saying that every action taken by a Jedi is out of the goodness of their own heart or free will.

#swtor #jedi #sith #rain talks swtor #jedi critical

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misshorrorotaku · 3 years ago

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The wave came. Of course Naofumi was the only one protecting people, the rest were just killing monsters. Which, ya know, whatever, it worked out in the end, but realistically at least two of the heroes should be focusing on protecting any innocents nearby from the monsters (assuming that’s needed, like in this case when the wave spawned pretty much on top of a village) while the other 2 focus on killing the monsters.

And of course the party scene. These fucking hypocrites, acting like Naofumi using a slave is some horrific crime when slavery is legal in their country. Fucking ridiculous. Even more ridiculous that they seriously forced him to fight when he had no real obligation to.

The Spear Hero. I fucking hated this guy from the start. He’s such a moron and a total fucking lolicon. This guy’s acting like he’s such an honorable warrior when he’s fighting someone who’s weapon is a shield and won’t allow him to use other weapons. Not very honorable to fight an unfair battle. Let alone act like the undeniable winner when he clearly only wins via cheating. And the GALL to demand Naofumi fight fairly when it’s so clearly an unfair match to start with.

And of course he’s winning so the dumbass crowd is acting like he’s not respecting the integrity of the duel. And then a clear blatant attack from outside the field knocks Naofumi away and the only ones to even acknowledge that is the other two heroes, and even then they don’t exactly raise too much of a fuss.

And the looks on their dumbass faces when Raphtalia runs back to Naofumi. XD I love that Raphtalia basically tells them to go fuck themselves. Gods that’s a satisfying scene.

And I also love that we get a flash of what Naofumi still sees. His trauma has caused him to shut out bits of reality, and he still clearly sees Raphtalia as a child. He’s even surprised when she runs back to his side.

Also the fucking irony of Spear Guy seriously saying “no one should be forced into a fight” when he forced Naofumi into a fight. Gods I hate this guy.

#long post #rising of the shield hero

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heeytwelve · 4 years ago

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"That’s practically my type”

I remember someone really smart in internet was debating that Draco Malfoy has 100% chance to be Harry Potter’s boyfriend, cause he is, in fact his type. And if we look at Harry’s girlfriends, we kinda see the pattern (quidditch, outspoken, bravery, and have I mention quidditch? ).

But anyway, this post not about those, this post about how Chosen One of Carry On universe has his type too and why Agatha wasn’t just mistake of adolescence and how he changes his views on Baz when he become actively infatuated with him.

“I’ve wanted her since the first time I saw her—walking across the Great Lawn, her long pale hair rippling in the wind. I remember seeing her and thinking that** I’d never seen anything so beautiful.** And that if you were that beautiful, that graceful, nothing could ever really touch you. It would be like being a lion or a unicorn. Nobody could really touch you, because you wouldn’t even be on the same plane as everyone else. Even sitting next to Agatha makes you feel sort of untouchable. Exalted. It’s like sitting in the sun. So imagine how it feels to date her—like you’re carrying that light around with you all the time.

Let’s elaborate. He doesn’t fall in love with her - because of her academic success or because her parents rich or because she’s kind and caring. The type of attraction that works for Simon is so called - aesthetic attraction, attraction to beauty.

And before you blame him for being shallow, I say, having strong preference for beauty is quite common among the artistic people, who grew up in desperate poverty, in small provinces, poor houses where beauty is rarity (for instance, famous ballet dancer Rudolph Nureyev was obsessed with beauty and collected a huge amount of beautiful things, because his poor childhood traumatised him). And, contrary to popular belief, Simon might have artistic tendencies, he sees beauty even dark creatures (goblins, *cough-cough* vampires), movements, colours and music.

Beauty for Simon is not a static thing to watch and enjoy the view, it’s not something he just want to own, it’s a force. Beauty protects him, it makes him untouchable, like nothing from of his previous (poor and mundane) life can touch him anymore, because he carrying the light, darkness will never reach him again. Agatha is not only his future, but also his shield. But - maybe it’s the same thing? Having future all sorted kinda shielding you from whatever you bump into.

He always mention her appearance whenever he talks about her - her clothes, her skin (”sparkles like she’s fairy”), her hair (multiple comparison with sun, light and halo). And when he decides to ignore the fact, that she quite possible betrayed him, it’s not only because he fear uncertain future but:

“She’s beautiful. And I want her. I want everything to be fine.”

Beauty as an attraction, beauty as a shield. Beauty is stability.

Now, before we talk about what all of this has to do with Baz, let’s bring up this quote:

“Like when I used to dream about becoming a footballer someday—or that my parents, my real parents, were going to come back for me.… My dad would be a footballer. And my mum would be some posh model type. ...

But we always missed you, Simon,” they’d say. “We’ve been looking for you.” And then they’d take me away to live in their mansion.”

I know, you probably roll your eyes now, like it’s stereotypical thing for poor kid in care to dream of, but isn’t that interesting, that Simon practically give us description of his future boyfriend and girlfriend as his dream parents? Now, don’t get me wrong, there is now perversion here, it’s just people he dreams to be with. People who potentially get him out of this awful reality and of course he will imagine them as the best people he can imagine - hence attraction to exactly those people. Now, we already know, that Agatha is beautiful as a model and she’s posh -Simon dwells how she good with regattas, polo matches, galas and he’s not posh enough for it. And right there, in next sentence, he mentions the only person who’s fit this interior - Baz. And let’s not forget about this:

“Baz walked into our room, much taller than me—and posher than everyone.”

There’s two interesting thing you notice when you will read Simon’s view for Baz. Simon never hesitates to use bold colours to describe how good Baz is. He never even doubts it, and Simon is not in submissive mode by any means. It’s just with Agatha - he sees the beauty and he admires it. But because Baz is evil, a threat (and potentially because he convinced that he’s heterosexual) AND Simon can’t just go in “I want him” mode, like he did with Agatha. There’s a big quote above about how Simon met Agatha and here’s one about how Simon met Baz:

“and Baz was walking towards me. Looking so cool. Like he was coming my way because he wanted to, not because there was a mystical magnet in his gut.”

Though, it is looks, Simon talks about, I want to emphasise, that while Simon is not in active infatuation phase with Baz, he still unleashes his other attraction type, attraction to power/strength. Here and in quote below he indicates one of Baz biggest powers - ability to look unfazed and perfect no matter what. Power of composure.

“but he looked fine to me—not a hair out of place. Typical.”

Back to father being footballer. One might wonder, why violinist and person so into academic success went to be the lead player in sports team? All popular movies tell us that you either this (nerd) or that (jock), and Baz suddenly both. Because he’s perfect. And because he has his personality and vampire personality. One might also wonder, had Baz overheard Simon’s obsession about being footballer/football in general before deciding to enrol to the team and collect all trophies... Anyway. Baz as footballer:

“He’s the same on the field as he is everywhere else. Strong. Graceful. Fucking ruthless.”

If you ask me, this is where Simon shows a bit his infatuation. Yes, attraction to strength, even ruthlessness (Simon is a fighter, he does appreciate good fighter too). But graceful - is about beauty. You see, I think, maybe because Simon carries traditional values he kinda does that thing: women’s modus operandi is beauty, men’s - strength, ruthlessness. Same with his parents - mum is model, father is fighter footballer. That’s ok. BUT when he starts to consider (even at the back of his mind) Baz as a romantic partner (it’s all starts when he sees that Baz is not a monster, that he’s a boy), he starts to notice his beauty more, than strength.

“He floats out over the moat and lands on the other side. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Infamous jeans scene, where Simon talking about Baz’ clothes (like he did w/Agatha) and literally checking out his arse:

“they do look like really expensive jeans. Dark. And snug from his waist to his ankles without looking tight.”

He starts to watch him aesthetically:

“I put my hand on his chest. I don’t have to step any closer to reach him. ... Baz swallows and licks his grey-pink lower lip. .. “he throws one of his pillows into my face. (It smells like him.)

“I’m watching him read—I swear he sucks on his fangs when he’s thinking.

The culmination of this development comes with “vampire club scene”:

““Every one of them must be so jealous of him. He’s everything they are, plus magic. Plus he looks the part, like he was born to be some sort of dark king.”

“Those vampires were in awe of you,” I say. “They wanted to put a crown on your head.

He has the skills AND he is royally beautiful. And Simon projecting his feelings to those night club vampires. The longer they in relationships, the more Simon dwelling on Baz beauty, just to show you this development, I’ll quote WS for a moment:

“I’ll be damned if he doesn’t look half glamourous. Like a boy Marilyn Monroe.… My brain gets kind of stuck on “boy Marilyn Monroe” for a while.”

...

“Baz casts his eyes down and smiles—girlishly, I would have said, but on him it’s not girlish. It’s, I don’t know, vulnerable.”

To elaborate, Marilyn Monroe is depiction of feminine beauty in popular culture and description of Baz as a bit feminine is something that would never happen in the beginning of “Carry On” setting. Of course, Baz opened up more to Simon (and this is important), but also Simon willing to see, no, he actually quite hungrily looking for this beauty. He is attracted to this kind of beauty AND I think, might be cause of his somewhat traditional views, he automatically looking for this in Baz, when he considering him as a partner.

BUT. Again as in WS - Baz being powerful and strong AND that being attractive (and arousing) to Simon is not going anywhere. So Simon’s type qualities - strength and beauty. (Not smartness and kindness, sorry Penny) though he does appreciate it. And lastly, let’s go back to Agatha. We talked about her beauty, but she’s also an athlete. A competitive one.

“I smile again and jump up off the bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a purple sweatshirt that says WATFORD LACROSSE. (Agatha plays.)”

This sweatshirt Simon will proudly wear even in WS (Baz haven’t confiscated them yet :D ) - and if you think about it, it’s the way to show admiration too. And don’t forget the horse sports, she’s even more into sports than Baz (Baz would spend his summer practicing languages and violin - I believe his main passion, and football is just to unwind and fuck w/Simon, while Agatha would harvest prizes or skills in competitions). OK, no, he does play tennis :D So yes - as absolutely legit Simon’s type - Agatha do has these two qualities. They both do. Though not exactly in same proportions. Agatha radiates beauty, feminine beauty, you don’t have to watch closely to see it, it punches you in a face. But Baz is more powerful, as with Agatha, you don’t have to search for his power, it’s just there. And maybe this shift in quality proportions is what Simon needs at the end. But he certainly needs both. And let me finish this lenthy dwelling off with Baz quote, where he accidentally compares himself tells us this qualities proportions in Agatha:

“Wellbelove isn’t very powerful, but she’s gorgeous.”

There is interesting awareness between these two, but I will have a mercy and talk about it later.

#agatha wellbelove #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #simon snow #simon snow salisbury #simon snow type #simon snow affection #carry on #wayward son #my texts #Carry On Meta #simon snow meta #agatha wellbelove meta #baz pitch meta

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