#or just fighting a few dai li agents like it's nothing

[zukosbangtan]

girl zuko as the blue spirit was seriously such a FORCE man...like no bending no honor just a mask his two swords and a dream like i don't think some of yall get just how crazy he was omggg.. like while he has always been a good firebender i feel like if he would've tried to capture the avatar as the blue spirit right from the beginning the series would've ended after like 3 episodes already with them on their way back to the fire nation together omg thank God he wasn't really thinking things through yet back then 💔💔

[leahwllmsn]

love of my life

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 0.7k

The moment Alexia smiled at you, nothing else seemed to matter.

part of the loml series

; angst

You met her on a Saturday.

Your agent told you that you were meeting the captain before you were set to join training the following week.

When you were offered a contract by Barcelona, it was a no-brainer. You packed your bags, said your goodbyes, and you were off to start your new adventure.

Alexia introduced herself, as if you had no idea who she was, which was ridiculous considering her face was plastered everywhere in this city.

You weren’t expecting the instant connection you had with Alexia. That feeling you get when things fall into place and life just… makes sense.

Alexia smiled at you and you swore you’d never felt more at ease than you did at that moment.

You fell for her on a Wednesday.

A few months into life in Barcelona, you spent more nights at Alexia’s than you did at yours. It wasn’t like you were paying the rent, so you couldn’t really care less.

You two were friends. Best friends, Mapi would argue that Alexia now preferred you over her.

That was what you two were. Two people with so many things in common, it felt like you were made for each other. As best friends.

But the more Alexia pulled you by the waist, having to have you pressed against her as she drifted off to sleep, the more you realized that you were in fact, very much in love with her.

When morning came and the first thing you saw was Alexia staring at you, a glimmer of happiness in her eyes as soon as she saw your eyes open, you didn’t think twice about kissing her inviting, soft lips.

You had your first fight on a Friday.

It was something silly that set it off. Something about Alexia going out for drinks with her group of friends, and you knew the list included her ex.

Alexia did ask you to come with, but you were already in a terrible mood because everything seemed to go wrong that day.

So you said “no” and you started going off about how Alexia was only going out because she wanted to see her ex, your green-eyed monster getting the worst out of you.

You slammed the door to Alexia’s apartment and walked back to yours.

You didn’t talk to her until Monday rolled around and you were met with a bouquet of your favourite flowers on your cubby.

Alexia stood apprehensively, gauging your reaction. Those who were in the locker room looked at each other cautiously. They knew you two never fought.

You sighed and beckoned for her to come closer. Once she did, you jumped into her arms, Alexia having to steady herself at the force of your jump.

You mumbled a million of apologies into her neck and Alexia just hugged you tighter. She told you to never worry because she would never do anything to hurt you.

She promised. You believed her.

In the future when Alexia eventually broke her promise, you would think back to this moment and consider yourself the biggest fool for ever believing her lies.

She proposed to you on a Tuesday.

It never crossed your mind that Alexia would propose that soon into your relationship.

You had been together for two years, which may seem like an enough time to propose for some people, but you knew Alexia.

You knew how she had been with Jenni for almost a decade and not once did she ever think of going ring shopping.

You knew that Alexia never spoke about marriages, so you just thought it was never in the cards for her.

It was definitely a surprise when she bent down on one knee in your shared living room, with nothing but your oversized national team sweater.

It wasn’t anything fancy, you two had just finished eating takeout from your favourite Thai place, you were watching reruns of Friends—it was perfect.

Alexia didn’t get to finish her question, you immediately tackling her to the ground, a chorus of “Yes, yes, yes!” falling from your mouth.

With Alexia’s laughter echoing throughout the apartment as you shower her with kisses, you’d never felt aglow like this before.

“I love you, mi amor,” Alexia would whisper to you in the early mornings, when no one else was awake but the two of you. “You’re the love of my life.”

[nicorobinmywife]

forgive me? | Kaku x GN Reader.

Summary: your boyfriend Kaku broke your heart and he regrets it.

Warnings: mild violence (slap in the face).

you closed the newspaper in your hands and let out a sigh, the whole world was talking about the Enies Lobby incident, about how a pirate crew set fire to the entire judiciary island to rescue their crewmate.

you were still in denial, not wanting to believe your boyfriend was a government agent this whole time, and even worse, he was one of those involved in the attempts on Mayor Iceburg's life, Kaku lied to you.

that sweet, gentle and kind galley-la company shipwright you fell in love with was actually a cold, unfeeling servant of the world government, you even wonder if he was lying about loving you too, maybe he just used you as a tool in his stupid mission with CP9.

the fact that Kaku left without even giving you a "Goodbye" makes you sure that he never really loved you.

a few months passed and Kaku never showed up again, the last thing you heard about him was that Spandam blamed CP9 for the Enies Lobby incident and now not only Kaku but the rest of CP9 are now considered wanted criminals by the government, and honestly as much as you are mad and disappointed in Kaku, you didn't want him to die.

sometimes you look at your apartment and realize how empty it is without him, how much you miss hearing his voice, his laugh, his gentle touch, his sweet words...but at the end of the day, it was all just a big lie.

on a certain quiet night, you were sleeping, the sound of the window opening woke you up.

"I'm surprised you had the nerve to show up here." your tone of voice was as cold as your expression when you saw Kaku entering through the window.

you were fighting the urge to throw yourself into his arms, shower him with kisses and tell him how much you missed him.

"love...I've missed you so much...I wish I could be completely honest with you, I didn't want it to be like this... but I couldn't lose my job, I had to complete the mission..." Kaku had a look of regret in his eyes.

Kaku always wanted to tell you the truth but he was afraid of how you would react, not to mention that Lucci might get mad, or even worse, hurt you for knowing too much.

"do you realize how dangerous it is for you to be here in Water Seven again? Iceburg banished you from this town..." you wanted to slap yourself for worrying about Kaku even though he broke your heart.

"I couldn't go another day without seeing you, I had to come back here and talk to you, you deserve an explanation..." Kaku approaches you and tries to touch your face, but is caught off guard when you slap him.

"don'put your hands on me again..." Kaku felt his heart break at your words and seeing you take a step back, moving away from him.

Kaku takes a deep breath, his eyes closed, hoping to get the courage to say a word that has been on his mind for so many years.

"Y/N... I love you... I've always loved you, I've always regret lying to you, I've never stopped loving you, i know i lied about many things but it was to protect you, my love for you is the most sincere thing about me, I know that nothing I can say would make up for it, and I've regretted it every single day since I left... but I had to choose between my life's goal and love, and I chose wrong. I just hope you can forgive me..."

your eyes filled with tears and your fists clenched, but you didn't want to cry in front of Kaku, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"I'm sorry Kaku, but don't think I'm going to forgive you easily, I don't care if you work capturing pirates or whatever, what really hurts me is not knowing if you're being honest with me or not, it's like a whole different person is here in front of me."

Kaku lowered his gaze, taking a deep breath and understanding how you feel about this situation, all he wanted was another chance to prove that his love for you is real and not a big lie.

"if you want my trust back, you're going to have to work hard for it, REALLY hard, you understand? don't waste this second chance."

Kaku widens his eyes hearing your words, even after all he's done, you're willing to try again, he wonders what he did to deserve someone as good as you.

"I promise I won't waste this second chance, I will prove that I love you everyday and show that I deserve your trust, I'm sorry for breaking your heart, i love you." Kaku says with a smile on his face and taking something out of his pocket and putting it in his hands.

you smiled slightly seeing the little stuffed giraffe he placed in your hands, your favorite animal, Kaku left again but he promised to come back, he really is willing to work hard to get your heart and trust back.

you lie in bed cuddling the stuffed giraffe with a slight smile on your face, sighing and wishing from the bottom of your heart that Kaku can make you love and trust him again.

[emilyprsblog]

Derek Morgan x Fem! BAU! Reader

Enemies to lovers trope?

Reader and Derek have never gotten along, since the day Reader had joined the team about three months ago. They could never seem to agree on anything, at all. Garcia calls it sexual tension.

The team is on a case, and it’s gotten really late and everyone is just exhausted, so hitch calls it a night, and they go check into the hotel.

For some reason (you can make up one) Derek goes to readers room, and they end up in a screaming match (you can decide what it’ll be about). which leads to reader saying something like “we’re work colleagues” and derek replies with “well what if I don’t want to be just work colleagues!” and they freeze for a second both in shock.

& then they have a really steamy kiss ..

It kinda makes me laugh

tw: a bit gory at the very beginning, (talk of a case), mentions of amputation and blood, minor injuries, a bit suggestive

wc: 2k

note: thank you so much for this request!! i was so motivated to write this one. also; since i am a girl i have a preference to write about female reader x some character, so this is an implied female reader x derek morgan fic, but i don’t think i really specified that in the fic? maybe? i’m not sure, but i just wanted to say that <3 thoughts and comments are welcome and highly appreciated!!

When you first joined the BAU you were quite looking forward to meeting the agents you had heard so much about. You couldn’t believe you had the honor to work with the very best.

You did your research, maybe a bit too much, wanting to make a first good impression and you genuinely thought you would get along with everyone well. You got along with most people.

Everything seemed great on your first day. You went home that day, thinking that you would be good friends with your new colleagues from your initial impression of them and you seemed to be a good addition to the team dynamic. There was one person in particular, however, that you couldn’t have been more wrong about.

“You could have killed him.” Derek spat at you as you both walked back to the rest of the team, each step away from the forest that would haunt you forever filling your lungs with fresh air you very much needed. In the mix of chasing a serial killer, fighting him off — which resulted in you now having a bleeding cut from your forehead and your cheek stinging with the bruise that was forming — and then having to make the almost impossible decision to amputate a man’s foot, was really catching up to you, and somewhere in all of this, you had forgotten to properly breathe.

“His foot was rotting, Morgan. If I wouldn’t have amputated it, he would have definitely died. I saved his life.” You didn’t bother looking at him, already knowing exactly what expression was on his face. A look of anger you always saw every time you were around him.

“The rock was dirty, Y/L/N. You didn’t think about the fact that he could’ve gotten an infection?” The anger in his voice made your heart ache. You scoffed, out of anger and hurt and maybe to be able to exhale in an attempt to cover up how much you wanted to cry. You had been nothing but kind to him when you first met and he had been nothing but rude and mean. He hadn’t shown you an ounce of appreciation or kindness, so you had decided — after a week of trying to be nice to him, only to be shut down — that he didn’t deserve your kindness either.

You knew that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. Or he was just intentionally trying to be mean. Probably both.

Taking a breath, you looked down at your dirty clothes before your eyes could make out your team in the dark from a bit away as you walked towards them, and them towards you.

You knew Derek wouldn’t listen to your reasoning, but you wanted to at least make your point, so you spoke, still not looking at him.

“Look, I know you hate me, but the very least you can do is respect me.” A few more steps and you could breathe out and be alone and sleep. “You don’t have to like me, just respect my place in this team and respect my decisions. I’m not stupid, okay?” You couldn’t resist glancing at him, seeing him already looking at you, a look of something you weren’t quite sure of.

Immediately, you tore your eyes off of him, looking at your shoes. “If you can’t even respect me, then just try to accept the fact that I’m here, I’m a part of this team and I’m not leaving any time soon.” You didn’t know if he even cared about what you had just said, but as soon as you took your eyes off the ground, you saw the team approaching you with relieved expressions and open arms. At least they had been welcoming towards you. Especially the girls, who you had grown close to in these three months.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, cupping your bruised cheek carefully as she looked at you with concerned eyes.

“I’m okay.” You breathed out, nodding before JJ brought you into her arms.

As you hugged everyone tightly, really needing them after such a brutal case, you heard Hotch say something about checking into the hotel and finally be able to sleep. You exhaled, feeling Emily’s hand on your back, rubbing comforting circles.

Never had you been so relieved to be in a hotel room as you were now. As the door clicked, you finally properly breathed in and out. Letting the bag fall off your shoulder, the fabric thudding against the floor, you immediately walked to the bathroom, looking at your exhausted complexion in the mirror. Sighing, you placed your hands on the faucet, leaning against it as you closed your eyes, just breathing.

You almost fell asleep like that, feeling so utterly drained, but suddenly a knock echoed through the room and you raised your head, wondering who it was. Maybe Rossi wanted to check on you. You had grown close to him too, him being like a father figure to you and he always checked up on you, knowing how hard it can be to be the new one in a team. Anywhere, really. And hard it definitely had been.

You snapped out of your thoughts as you opened the door, expecting Rossi there, but to your disappointment, it was the one and only Derek Morgan. You found yourself just staring at him for a moment.

“What is it?” Your tone was harsh and you watched as he seemed to search for words. All you wanted to do was get into bed and sleep. “Why did you come here if you have nothing to say?” Derek took a silent breath.

“I just… I just wanted to tell you that you’re wrong.” Your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” Your fingers turned white from the hard grip you had on the door.

“Earlier… you said that I hate you.” He looked away from you. “I don’t.” You wondered if he was more tired than you were.

“Okay?” You didn’t know what to say. He looked up at you. “Look, I just want to sleep. I’ve had a hard day and you’re not making sense,” You sighed. “so can you just leave me alone?” A familiar anger flashed in his eyes.

“Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear what I just said? I’m standing here trying to explain something to you and you’re being rude.” His voice raised and your eyes widened, knowing that he probably just woke up about 15 guests with his loud voice. You dragged him into the room by his arm, closing the door behind you. He crossed his arms, his eyebrows frowning in anger.

“I’m being rude? Are you fucking serious?” You chuckled. A sarcastic one. “You have been nothing but rude and mean and unfair to me since I started. That was three months ago and you’re still the same. Are you blind to your own behavior? We are work colleagues, Morgan, and you treat me like I’m garbage.”

“What if I don’t want to be just work colleagues?” He spat out, unhooking his arms. The air seemed almost knocked out of you as you stared at him with slightly wide eyes. He stared at you back, regretting his words as soon as he had said them. But he didn’t look at you with the same shock you had on your face. In your eyes. There was something else glimmering in his. Something you were too shocked to try to understand at the moment.

As you stared into his brown eyes, you realized that maybe Garcia had been right all this time when she occasionally whispered — not so quietly — to the rest of the team about the sexual tension between you and Morgan. And that tension was incredibly, painfully obvious.

It felt like hours before either of you moved, but as soon as Derek took slow steps towards you, you looked him up and down, your breathing still not under control. Time stopped and nothing felt real when he was almost overwhelmingly close. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at him. You could feel his breathing cooling your skin as your heart pounded in your chest.

His eyes were dark and filled with lust and God, so gorgeous. They penetrated yours. Your own flicked between his and suddenly there was a slight crimson covering your cheeks when your eyes had accidentally glanced at his lips. You had caught the small curve of them before you looked up at his eyes again, seeing that he was smirking, his eyes shimmering. It was small, but with him being so very close, you had seen it.

He placed a warm hand against your cheek, caressing the purple bruise. His other hand he placed on your waist and your knees almost failed you.

“Tell me to stop anytime.” He whispered, his voice husky with desire as he lingered close to you with his lips open, touching yours, but not kissing. Without thinking, you took a hold of his belt, dragging him closer to you, your hips meeting at the same time your lips met. The air shifted; it charged into something intense. Your heart fluttered in your chest like a hummingbird as you both slowly, clumsily stepped backwards, your back hitting the wall. You felt your breasts against his toned chest and you never wanted that feeling to go away.

The only sound in the room was your heavy, shaky breaths and you placed a hand on his back, fisting the shirt he was wearing. Almost involuntarily, you leaned in more to deepen the kiss. Derek felt like heaven and his lips were divine.

Derek was still cupping your cheek, caressing, and his other hand traveled to your hair, gently grabbing it. “Derek," You gasped breathlessly against his lips. You thought the tension between you was strong before, it was nothing compared to now. Although, this was another kind of tension. A good one. More than good.

His tongue sneaked out to trace the edge of your lower lip. You opened your mouth, and his tongue caressed your own. The feeling of him caused you to moan into his mouth before you could even think about holding it back. Derek’s kiss was magic. It was frantic for you, desperate. His hand dug into your hip. You pulled back, gasping for air, "Derek, the bed." His lips didn’t leave your skin, falling instead to your neck as you both took a few steps to the bed.

Pulling away almost reluctantly, Derek sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, grabbing your arm to lead you to him, drawing you close again. His eyes alone almost made you groan.

You swung a leg over his lap and straddled him, your hand finding the back of his neck. His kisses fell to your neck where he continued his barrage of kisses, your head leaning to the side to give him better access. He took advantage of it, surely giving you marks that you didn’t care for right now. You were too lost in the moment and the feeling of his hands around your waist.

You felt his lips trail down to your collarbones, his hot tongue making you slightly gasp. He felt incredible below you. He looked up at you, smirking which only added to your already burning desire. You didn’t know if this was going to end up turning into something more, but right now, you were more than content to kiss him.

Connecting your lips to his once more, you closed your eyes again and savored the feeling of his lips moving against yours before both of you gently pulled away, breathing heavily, your chest heaving against his. You looked into his eyes, kissing the very corner of his mouth before you placed your hands right under his jaw, smiling at him. You earned a toothy, shiny smile back.

You rested your forehead against his, tracing his muscly arm, still looking into his brown eyes. He traced your hip and you shuddered at the feel. “Can I ask you something?” You quietly spoke, breaking the soft silence. He nodded and you pulled away a little. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know.” He said with earnest eyes. “All I know is that I never hated you, and I’m tired of ignoring it.”

[archiveoftara]

Hi! Can I get a request? The reader is a freelance agent but she is friends with Lockwood and Co. If a case is dangerous or so, they call each other for backup just in case. One day, the Lockwood and Co and reader are in an old house and the person who owns the house, lied to them and told them that the house is stable but while on the second floor, the floor collapsed and the reader falls through and she goes unconscious. She wakes up in to the hospital and Lockwood is there. And rest can be up to you. Thanks.

White Lies

Hii. Sorry for the extreme delay. I was not in the right headspace. I'm sorry if the story is a bit cringe. I tried my best to finish it as fast as I could. Anyways, hope you like it!! Do let me know in the comments

Word count: 1125

"Are we at the right place?"

I stood in front of an old two storey house which reminds me of some Victorian period drama. I heard Lockwood say.

"83 downhill road? yes, we are."

Slowly I made my way into the house, keeping my wits together. One must stay alert when it comes to deal with a visitor, especially a nasty one. I close my eyes, tuning into the surroundings.

"So the owner said a visitor has been bothering them for a while. They didn't know it was haunted till they moved in." George explained.

"Heard anything, y/n?" Lockwood asked.

"Nothing, yet." I take a quick glance outside, golden lights slowly disappearing under the dark shadow. "We better find ourselves a ghost."

I knew Lockwood from the fencing classes. We were like two peas in a pod and during the training we promised each other to work together in an agency.

Sadly, circumstances led us to our separate ways. Until one rainy day, I found him standing at my threshold. From that day, we back each other up. Whenever he needs more help, he rings me up. The more, the merrier.

"How's the temperature George?" Lockwood's enquiry broke my train of thoughts.

"Normal."

"Let me look around" I took a step forward.

"Be careful" Lucy said.

"I'll go with you. We'll go upstairs meanwhile you guys look around here. Let's meet there after fifteen minutes." Lockwood points at the hall.

I kept my hand on the hilt of the sword, ready to strike the visitor at any moment. Lockwood was just a few steps behind me, looking for any ghoulish substance.

I raised my hand to stop him "I think I heard something...someone's walking..it knows we're here."I heard a sound of metal drawn, while I tightly grabbed my rapier.

A faint light started to build up in front of my eyes before I realise I fell on the ground.

Shit

"Are you alright?" Lockwood gives me a hand.

"I'm fine. It's getting strong."

Lockwood fights the visitor while I try to regain my position. I join him shortly.

With a final slash, I kept the visitor at bay. It disappeared. For now.

"We have to find the source quickly. It must be somewhere in here."

"GEORGE, LUCY. WE FOUND THE SOURCE."

Lockwood gave me a confused look.

"What? You don't really ask for help anyway." Before he could say anything, Lucy and George joins us.

"Where is it?" George pants.

"Somewhere in here. The man disappeared in one of those doors." I pointed at the furthest door.

Turns out, the room was a library. The visitor was an author who died in there and the source was his writing pen.

Luckily, Lucy secured the source just in time. It was already getting dawn. We all settled in the kitchen to have some tea.

My hand fell on my wrist when I found my bracelet was gone. It's my lucky bracelet.

"I have to go upstairs, I think I dropped my bracelet there." I didn't wait for anyone to respond and rush to look for it. Everyone knows how precious it was to me.

I stepped on the landing of second floor when I heard a crack. I didn't pay attention, might be some broken window or something. I found a shiny bracelet peeking through the carpet.

"Ah ha! There you are."

Suddenly, everything went black.

..................................................................................

Bright

Bright

Where am I?

My eyes hurt someone please turn off the light.

"Oh my god she's waking up."

"Someone call the doctor."

"Y/n?"

I look at the person who called my name.

"...where am I?"

"Are you alright?"

"Who are you?"

Lockwood's pov

"Who are you?"

She doesn't remember me... It felt like my whole world shattered in front of my eyes.

Y/n has been in coma for two months.  The owner of the house lied to us. The house was haunted AND unstable. I already sued him.

His mistake costed me almost losing y/n.

"We're your friends. I'm Lucy, that's George and Lockwood. Don't you remember us?" Lucy mumbled.

"Um..hehe..hahaha." she broke into a hearty laugh.

"You guys should have seen your faces. Oh god..Ouch my head hurts."

The audacity of this girl to get on my nerves even after waking up from a coma.

"Well looks like someone's doing fine after the accident." George snorted.

"What accident?"

"You fell-"

"You fell from the stairs." I gave a quick look to Lucy. She doesn't need to know.

"Oh.."

George and Lucy gave me a confused look but didn't say anything.

We took y/n to Portland Row first, she still needs rest and I want to take care of her (not because I'm head over heels for her), she lives alone and she needs people around her so she can recover faster.

Y/n was asleep in Lucy's room while the rest of us were in the kitchen.

"Why didn't you tell her?" George ask.

"And scare her? She doesn't need to know that a whole ass house fell on her and sent her to a coma for two months. She's already been through a lot, George. It will only cause her more pain."

I heard someone clear their throat, I looked up to find Y/n standing at the door. She had her signature poker face which is more terrifying than a ghost.

"Can I talk to you for a minute Lockwood? Alone?"

George gave me a light pat on my shoulder while Lucy gave a sympathetic smile. 

I gesture y/n to sit beside me. She took it, silently.

"How much did you hear?"

"Pretty much everything."

"I'm sorry."

"You should've told me. I'm not that same vulnerable kid you met in the academy, anymore. I can take care of myself."

"I almost lost you."

"But I'm here. I'm fine." She held my hand against her cheek. "see?"

I lean onto her warmth "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

"Stop blaming yourself. It must have been so hard for you too. I'm sorry for being reckless."

"Hey, it's my job to be reckless."

She chuckled at my response. I gently brush a strand of hair from her face. "I missed you."

She puts her forehead against mine, longingly looking at my eyes "I missed you too. Please don't lie to me again."

"I won't." I gently kiss her forehead. I pull her closer to me. I feel her leaning on my shoulder and going to the dreamland.

I will tell thousand white lies just to keep you safe, I'm sorry.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - September 24th

 Work is extremely busy and I’ve been doing a lot of writing on some projects for the end of year, so reading is down, but I did enjoy some excellent new fic this week--check it out and be sure to leave a comment/kudos for your authors if you enjoy it! 

~*~ 

Day Drinking by Sineala

To fight Orchis, Tony has to make them underestimate him. He spends his nights building armor in secret. He spends his days at the Hellfire Club with a glass of ginger ale in his hand, pretending to be drunk. But the lies will all fall apart if anyone notices that Tony doesn't have liquor on his breath. Steve has a solution for that. Tony's not going to like it.

frequencies of sea and space by meidui

“One mil,” a voice says, firmly, and Steve would recognise that voice anywhere. Like thick amber honey, like smoke from a fire, lighting him up and burning him down.

There are no higher bids.

Steve looks across the room and gazing back at him is the face he’s spent two years squeezing his eyes shut at night trying to block out—the scratch of his beard on his chin when they kissed and its burn between his thighs and burying his face in Tony’s stomach while Tony pet through his hair with one hand and scrolled through his tablet with another and every stupid thing they argued over and how Tony would murmur sweet soothing apologies against his ear afterwards as he fucked him sobbing through another orgasm and the rasp in his voice in the morning and the lines around his mouth when he smiles and the nicknames he tossed his way like spare change—but those eyes meet his and it’s all over.

Spice and a Wound by fuckofdaedalus

Tony’s dealing (poorly) with the effects of his cancer treatment, Steve drops by unannounced to watch TV and sees something he shouldn’t. One thing leads to another, and now Steve’s holding his own belt in his hand, looped in half, and staring at Tony’s bare back, about to beat one of his best friends. Worst of all? He likes it.

mockingbird won't sing by S_Hylor

Steve had fought in the war, seen a man made hell on earth and somehow clawed his way out the other side of it, even if it took him decades to resurface. He hates the world he’s found himself in, doesn’t fit into this shiny, too bright, too loud future, but he keeps fighting, because it’s all he knows how to do. It’s in one of those fights that he gets dosed with an unknown chemical agent that makes him want and need things he shouldn’t, makes him give in to that want. It’s just one night, but that’s all it takes to leave him facing something he can’t defeat.

nothing shines upon by Red (S_Hylor), SirSapling

The New Year brings about a few changes. Stark knows about the pregnancy now. He organises doctors and appointments, and is at Steve's apartment more often than not. It makes Steve feel less lonely, having company that will talk to him, rather than just feeding off him like a parasite.

It changes things.

That doesn't mean it makes them better.

little star by Red (S_Hylor) 

Tony knows nothing he does will ever be able to show his gratitude that Steve gave him the chance to meet their son. To hold him. To count his tiny fingers and tiny toes.

never have i ever before by complicationstoo 

“What’s in the bag?”

Instead of answering, Tony walks them over to the couch and drops Steve down before sitting next to him. He hands the bag over, and his cheeks turn pink when Steve opens it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I, um, figured we should be prepared,” Tony explains, biting anxiously at his lip and his eyes darting around the room. “I didn’t know what you’d prefer, so I might have gone a little overboard. Definitely got some weird looks from the cashier.”

Steve pulls out one of the many bottles of lube, ignoring the condoms for now. “This one is strawberry flavored.”

picture me in the trees by complicationstoo 

Tony and Steve were childhood friends that almost became more, but Tony moved and they lost their chance. Thirteen years later, a chance meeting brings Tony back into Steve's life.

Apple Bottom Jeans (And Other Love Songs) by gyzym

Or, how Steve Rogers--kind of--learns to dance.

Inbox (1) by Annie D (scaramouche) 

Recently Tony has been communicating over the internet with a charming new friend. Two-way anonymity has its advantages, allowing Tony to express himself more earnestly than he usually would otherwise. It’s safe, too, because what are the chances that Tony and BD01432 know each other in real life? Very low, that’s for sure.

Half Agony, Half Hope by Annie D (scaramouche)

Following the Battle of New York, the Avengers Initiative kicks into high gear under the leadership of Steve Rogers, i.e. Captain America. Tony didn’t mean to become part of this initiative, but it makes sense to sign on due to his experience with SHIELD and Rhodey’s War Machine suits.

The upside: Tony’s tech can be used in a widespread and meaningful way to help protect people. The downside: the last time Tony saw Steve, he’d rejected Steve’s proposal of marriage and broke his heart, leading to almost ten years of the two having no contact whatsoever. Until now.

Walking Wounded by Captain_Panda

A good man went to war. Captain Rogers came out.

A Proportional Response by msermesth 

Steve doesn't have a reason for cock-blocking Tony.

No reason, whatsoever.

The Law Runneth Forward and Back by Sineala 

It's been three weeks since Tony saved Steve's life at Mount Rushmore, and they're not talking about it. It's going to drive Tony insane. But they've got bigger problems, because Nightshade has turned Steve into a werewolf. Again. And all Steve seems to want is to be near Tony.

[Podfic] JentheSweetie's "And Time Can Do So Much" by Renton6echo 

"I really shouldn’t be talking to a figment of my imagination,” Steve said. “Sam would be reading me the riot act. I can hear him now. Therapy works wonders, you know.”

“Sounds like Wilson,” Tony agreed. “And therapy does work wonders. You might want to look into it, once it becomes a thing in a couple of years.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Steve said.

A few years after Steve moved permanently back in time, he started having conversations with Tony again.

[tacticalhimbo]

EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD: A POST-BLACK OPS: COLD WAR FICLET

WORDS: 1.6K FANDOM(S): Call of Duty Black Ops Cold War WARNINGS: Mentions and descriptions of murder, violence, and injury.

NEOCITIES MIRROR

The arctic shores were unkind to Bell on that fateful day, and everything would come full circle. Inspired by my personal canon for the Call of Duty: Black Ops universe where Bell survives the encounter with Adler during the "good" ending because, frankly, I believe Adler deserves to be haunted by a (living) ghost.

This was a WIP that's been sitting in my drafts for ages and I've been bitten by the productivity bug... So enjoy!

Things had finally been finished. There was no more Perseus. No more nuclear threat to the West. No more lies. The truth had come to light after a grueling series of injections. A hard-fought resistance and a mad spiral down the rabbit hole. Bell knew who he was now. Knew his role within the grand scheme of things. And, like any good actor, he played it perfectly. Followed the team into the end, and stopped a third world war from breaking out.

Yet the familiar chill of the coastal air did little to ease the man as he followed his handler once more, though this time to seemingly celebrate their victory.

"Arctic air. Clears the head, doesn't it?" Adler's voice was level. Calm. Almost eerily so. But Bell knew better than to raise alarms; to question his motives. Adler was not a man to be questioned.

So Bell simply nodded, offering little more than a dull. but polite, expression in response. Adler continued.

"Bell, you made two extraordinary sacrifices to stop Perseus. One was without your knowledge. The other... you made that decision of your own accord." He brought the flickering cigarette to his lips, gaze turning to the vast waters ahead of them as smoke encircled his vision. A slow, gluttonous inhale. A tired, level exhale.

Bell stayed away from the cliff's face, tired eyes watching the agent's every move. The senior would simply have to forgive him if he wasn't so trusting of his motives, considering everything he's learned over the past few days. Considering Adler had turned him into his own Pavlovian dog. A tool to do the CIA's bidding. Sure, he had ultimately chose to turn his back to Perseus... but it wasn't to help them. He could give two shits about the wishes of the American government.

He did it because he had no choice to. He did it for survival.

It was true that he could have led the team astray, but to what end? To be gunned down like a rabid animal? To die alone in Duga with nothing more than the crows to accompany him as they'd tore into his flesh? No, that was not a fate he was deserving of. To lie down and waste away in insignificance. He would rather fight for it, make his mark on those who'd dare bring death to his doorstep. But now, he wasn't so sure it was the right choice. Not as Adler turned his attention back to him.

"I just want you to know that this little thing that's happened with you and me," a calculated pause, "It was always for the greater good."

A quick flick of gloved fingers, and the cigarette was sent over the edge and into the arctic waters. Adler continued. "You're a goddamn hero, you know that, kid?"

There was that feeling again. Muscles clenching in anticipation. An uneasy wave of nausea in his gut. A cold sweat beginning to trickle down the back of his neck. Bell swallowed back the rising bile, simply nodding once more in response to the conversation. Of course he was. Ex-KGB spy turned American war hero. He could practically see the headlines. The circling rumors.

It made him sick.

"Heroes have to make sacrifices. That's why when I ask you for one more, I hope you understand..."

Shoulders squared as the agent turned his back; squared as Bell's fists clenched and unclenched. A terse silence settled between the two, hands stiff at their sides as they focused entirely on one another.

"It was never personal."

Time seemed to slow as a downpour of adrenaline overloaded Bell's nerves. Pupils grew wide, swallowing every ounce of light in his eyes as they synchronously aimed their sidearms. The gestures were so matched that, to an outsider, it would have appeared coordinated. One final dance, shared as the sun set on the horizon. One final mission, memorialized in a wicked flash of gunfire. Everything went dark, the echo swirling in Bell's mind as he crumpled to the ground. Drowned out the uneven, fleeting footsteps of his captor. Drowned out the Kittiwake's abundant cry.

To the world, it was business as usual. Nobody had known who he was, code name or otherwise. It was just another death in the grand scheme of things. A fleeting moment of simple insignificance.

To the CIA, they had tied their loose ends. Bell had no longer existed—he never did. MK-Ultra was a mere conspiracy. A story handcrafted by the enemy to shake the public image of the intelligence agency; to stir distrust in the government, and make it easier to peddle whichever agenda felt most convenient to blame at the time.

To the Russians, Danya Maximovich Kapitsa had died on that airfield. He was another casualty of their war, though he had at least had a name for himself. Perseus, or whomever it was that took up the mantle, did honor him, just as he would any of his closest associates. A noble sacrifice for their protection. Their ultimate undoing, if rumors of his survival were anything to go by.

But all of this mattered little in comparison to the searing pain brought on by a weak breath; by a return to the land of the living. Muscles screamed with every movement, vision hazy as light suddenly appeared before him. Blood soaked the man's vision as he attempted to find his focus, the dark world around him shrouded in an awful crimson hue. Blood that had once run smooth coagulated against pallid features, staining the skin beneath and drawing a stark contrast to the cold eyes that scanned over the horizon. There was nothing there. Nothing besides him. Even so, he could not trust his vision, not as the sparse moonlight accentuated the darkening spots that'd etched themselves into his sight. All those damned injections...

The crack of a branch caught his attention, head snapping and bringing about a shock wave of pain that manifested as a whimper; the sound of a dying animal. Calloused hands dug into the earth beneath them, drawing all of his strength and grounding him as he'd rolled onto his stomach. Inch by inch, he curled in on himself, bringing his knees into position to hold him as he'd pushed. Inch by inch, he rose onto his hands and knees, jaw clenched and teeth grinding as the pain consumed his every thought.

"Fuck..." More whimpering. A gasp. "Son of a—"

Nothing, besides the sharp rattling of his ribs as he'd forced himself up further. Pain spreading from the epicenter as he'd stood, briefly stumbling forward and catching the closest tree. Bark scratched against roughened palms, smearing dirt and debris and grounding Danya once more. He blinked. He blinked again. And there was still nothing. He was truly alone, envisioning things as his final moments played out on his peripheral. The crack of a gun, bullet piercing through the air and finding itself comfortably lodged in the bark just beside the agent's hand, glistening beneath the pale moonlight as his gaze fixated on the deep abyss ahead.

It stared back; coaxed him forth. Encouraged the slow, heavy steps that guided him away from his grave and into the unknown. Lazily, he passed by the Scots Pine and Norway Spruce, paying little mind to the blood he smeared on them as he'd made his way inland. Worn boots sunk into the swampy terrain, weighing the agent down further and bringing him to his knees more than once. Every time, the song and dance began again. Roll. Dig. Push. Over and up, back onto his feet. Wading through the muck until dim lights broke the darkness. Until the treeline broke and before him stood a glistening lake with a well-groomed landscape. No tall trees stood before him, though in the distance the landscape became less natural. It was brutalistic, in its own way; comforting in another. Like the abyss, it coaxed him. Encouraged the quickened pace as muscles grew tired and his gait grew sloppy. Over the marshy shore he'd stumbled, watching as the moonlit brick grew taller and wider. Along its perimeter, a comfortably dressed man was trimming at the shrubbery, whistling an idle tune and oblivious to the passerby quickly approaching.

Thud. Thud. Thud...

A calloused hand steadied itself on his arm, drawing a panicked breath as a corpse stared back at him.

"Help..." The only word to escape before he'd collapsed once more, embraced by the warm darkness that'd overtaken him as fire ignited within his skull.

When he awoke he was alone again, but he was comfortable. The pain in his body was no longer screaming, and there was ease in his muscles. A relaxation that he had not felt in a long time overcame him, though his mind shot itself into a spiral. Where was he? Who had seen him? Who had him? Who knew of his existence, and what would they do with that information. After all, he knew he was still within Russia's borders; it could be any moment before Perseus, or a KGB's representative would burst the door down to apprehend him. This, or until Adler and his boys came back to finish the job as they couldn't before. A part of him almost wished it would happen; agents of chaos to put him out of his misery. But the warmth of the sunlight trickling in, and the numbness coursing through his veins as he'd felt the sheets shift and settle upon his battered form coaxed the thoughts away. Lulled him into a near-contented state as he simply existed in this limbo.

And it would be where he would remain until he was on his feet again, the new world before him and with immeasurable weight on his shoulders.

[wonderswritings]

Reapers Fall 2: Ready to Comply

Summary: In one moment, a life ended. In the same moment, a life began. Pairings: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader AN: I literally wrote the last half of this right before I went to bed. So, it's unedited, and possibly a little rushed? I don't think it's rushed but I also need sleep so what do I know. The Reapers Fall pt.1 

☠

“Reaper! Reap- Grim! Grim answer me dammit!” Simon jerked to, sitting up in bed, his chest heaving as he called out your name. He made a face when there was no response, only silence.  Oh. Oh.

I promise, I will always come back to you. I’ll see you soon.

Liar. You lied. You didn’t keep your promise. You’re a liar. And now he’s left all alone. Alone and in agony. 

Today, we remember and honor the life of one of the greatest soldiers I’ve had the pleasure of ever working with and habing the privalege to call friend. She was one of the greats, and today, we leave a legend to rest, in the peace she deserves. 

Simon scoffed as he got out of bed, making his way to the enclosed bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He grabbed the sides of the sink, taking a few deep breaths before he looked up, looking at his reflection in the mirror. The longer he stared, the angrier he got, and in a fit of rage he punched the mirror, the mirror breaking into pieces, some shards cutting his hands, his knuckles bleeding as he his chest heaved, tears welling in his eyes.

☠

Flashes of moments. Flashes of moments you couldn’t place or understand. Something loud going off, things falling. The feeling of heat, and then nothing. Waking up to a blinding light, blurry faces standing over you, a prick in your arm and then a cold sensation spreading. Then it was burning, like your body was on fire from the inside. You couldn’t move as you screamed your voice hoarse. In and out of consciousness, all you felt was pain and confusion. And then one day, you opened your eyes, and there was no pain, and everything was clear. For just a moment, it was peaceful. 

☠

Ghost walked into Price’s office, nodding at him once before Price motioned for him to sit down. Price leaned back in his seat, looking over at Ghost.

“How’ve you been?”

Ghost clenched his jaw, balling his hands into fists, clenching and unclenching them as he responded.

“M’fine.”

“Si-”

“The psychologist cleared me. I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not. We all under-”

“I am fine. People die all the time. You move on. I’ve moved on. I’m fine.”

Price sighed, nodding slightly.

“You’re cleared to return to active duty. Recruits are waiting for you. They’re yours for the day.”

Price leaned forward, grabbing one of the files from the corner of his desk, placing it in front of him.

“Try not to kill any of em’.”

Ghost nodded, standing and making his way to the door when Price called out for him, causing him to stop, looking over his shoulder at him.

“You’re right about people dying, but you’re still here Simon.”

“Simon is dead.”

☠

You looked up when the door to your cell opened, watching as two guards walked in, followed by him. You backed into the corner, bringing your knees up to your chest as the man stepped forward.

“Are you ready to comply?” “Please, no, I don’t want to.”

You moved closer to the wall, shaking your head, tears welling in your eyes.

“Please. Please, I’m tired.”

The batons the guards held lit up, casting a blue hue over your face, causing you to jerk your head down into your arms. “We will take you by force if you do not comply.”

“Please.”

“Comply.”

“Please.” With a nod, they moved forward, shocking you with the batons. You screamed as pain coursed through you, your body convulsing. You looked up as they grabbed you, their grip on your arms tightening when you tried to fight them off. You looked over at the man,tears streaming down your face.

“Please.” A needle was placed at your neck, your eyes rolling as they injected you with the knockout agent.

“In the end, they always comply.”

He looked down at you, huffing slightly before he looked up at the guards.

“Take her to the chair. It’s time to begin.”

☠

The chair. You hated the chair. The chair only brought pain and misery, but it was basically your home for what felt like weeks- if you were able to keep track. You were strapped down, your wrists and ankles bound as another strap went across your forehead, ensuring you couldn’t move in an attempt to resist. The moments you spent in the chair were long, agonizing hours. In passing, you heard one of the doctors mention electroconvulsive therapy, the sharp pulses in your brain growing the longer they did it. When they;d finally let you out of the chair, dumping you back in your cell, you couldn’t move. Practically in a catatonic state, you could only lay where they’d dumped you, unmoving as ghost pains from the therapy pulsed through you. On the days you weren’t in the chair, you were on a table, strapped down with different wires and iv’s attached to you. Those days, you missed the chair. 

☠

Guards were placed around the room, two more entering with him- your handler. You watched from your peripherals as he walked closer to you, walking around you.

“Status report.”

“The electroconvulsive therapy has done well. She is susceptible to the orders we’ve given. She has exceeded in all of her training. She is ready.”

He nodded as he came to a stop in front of you, looking down at you.

“Just for good measure, hit her one more time.”

A stinging pain spread throughout your head as your handler spoke, but it was just muted background noise as you began to convulse from the pain. Eventually  it stopped, and as you slowly began to stop convulsing, your handler came to a stop in front of you, placing his hands on the metal cuffs keeping you in place.

“Are you ready to comply?”

The mouth guard stopped you from speaking, and the strap across your forehead kept you from moving your head. But he wasn’t expecting an answer, not really, not after they’d broken you and molded you into their perfect, obedient little soldier. He shot you a grin before he turned, looking over at the head guard assigned to keep you in line.

“Get her prepped. The chopper leaves in thirty minutes.”

“Yes sir.”

He left, the two guards he entered with following after him as the lead guard moved to stand in front of you, a smirk on his face.

“Well, let’s get you prepped.”

☠

The first mission Ghost was assigned to after your death, he kept looking over his shoulder for you. He was glad he was alone, because after he’d switched the comms off, he was talking to you. Or at least, the ghost of you. The image he’d created felt off, but in the end it was still you, and he felt a small semblance of peace. Now, a year after you’d died, he was going with the motions, doing mission after mission without much care for his own safety. Currently, he was on a mission with the rest of 141, what was meant to be a simple catch and grab turned into an all out firefight that seemed to never end. Somehow, they’d managed to get separated from one another, the onslaught of enemies never ending when there was a lull. The shooting had stopped, and there were no more explosions.

“Sound off.”

One by one, they each reported in, stating their status and location when Gaz’s voice broke through.

“Vans incoming, southside!”

Ghost peered over the ledge, watching as three armored vans drove down the road, only for the van in the middle to turn and stop in the middle of the square. 

“V’got eyes.”

“Steady. We don’t know what they’re doing.”

“Copy.”

Ghost steadied his rifle, keeping his eyes locked on the vans when the doors opened.

“We’ve got movement.”

Ghost looked through his scope, watching as a group of at least ten got out of the vans when the back doors to the middle van flung open, a person jumping out. They were dressed in all black, a mask covering the lower part of their face, goggles that were also blacked out covering their eyes. Ghost watched as one of the men walked towards the person, handing them what looked to be a grenade launcher, saying something to them. Ghost watched as they stepped forward, lifting their weapon and aiming at one of the buildings Soap and Price had reported being in. 

“Incoming!”

“Move, move, move!”

Ghost watched as they shot a series of grenades, and once the launcher was empty they dropped it, grabbing the weapon the smaller man behind them handed them.

“Cap, what’s the plan?”

“We need to fall back. We’re outgunned and outnumbered.”

Like a button had been pressed, the group that was still standing in front of the vans moved forward, taking aim and shooting. Ghost watched as the person dressed in black aimed, shooting off rounds with an accuracy that puzzled him. They’d come mid fight, and seemingly knew where everyone was currently hiding out at, save for himself.

“Cap?”

“Take em out! We need to take out however many we can so we can retreat safely.”

“With pleasure.”

Ghost started to shoot, the men dropping like flies before they dispersed, taking cover, except for the person in black. They continued to walk forward, the person following them having ducked for cover some time ago. Ghost jumped slightly when a shot landed next to him, and when he looked around he saw the person in black aiming at him. They started to shoot, causing him to take cover. Once the shooting had stopped he slowly peered over the ledge, only to see the person was gone, the square seemingly empty of everyone.

“Anyone got eyes?”

“Negative.”

“Alright, evac is eight minutes out. We hold our ground until they get here then we haul ass, clear?”

“Copy.”

“Ghost, take out as many as you can and then make your way to us.”

“Copy.”

He peered over the ledge, aiming his rifle, looking for any signs of movement. After double checking he lowered his rifle, keeping it close to him as he slowly started to make his way off the balcony and back inside the room.

“Moving.” 

He started to make his way down the stairs, keeping an ear out for any sounds of movement. Once he was on the ground floor he kept low, occasionally checking to make sure it was clear before he’d move. 

“Heading out now.”

He had just entered the hall where the back door was when it opened, a flash grenade being thrown in. blinded, he stumbled into the wall, huffing when something slammed into him, forcing him to the floor. He’d dropped his rifle, and before he could attempt to reach for it, hands were wrapping around his throat, squeezing. His eyes widened as his vision returned, his gaze landing on the black goggles that looked like pits. 

“Lt- come- status.”

Shaking his head, he fought back, managing to knock the person off him. They went back and forth, the person managing to meet his hits with just as much force as his own, even though they were smaller than him. The longer the fight went on, the angrier Ghost became. They’d already managed to cut his arm, blood dripping down his sleeve, seeping into his glove, causing his fingers to become slick. He was starting to become tired, but it seemed like the person in front of him was only getting started. He needed to get them out in the open, with hopes that one of the others could take a shot. Thinking fast, Ghost ran forward, tackling them, causing them both to crash through the window, landing in broken glass as they rolled out into the streets. 

“Lt town’s clear. Evac hit some trouble, they're ten minutes out.”

Huffing, he slowly stood, keeping a glaring gaze on the person that continued to lay on the ground.

“Copy.”

Slowly, he made his way to the person, harshly kicking their side. When there was no response, he started to search them, turning them onto their back. His eyes widening slightly when he saw their goggles had fallen off. He continued to search them, and when he glanced up to make sure they were still out he froze. Their eyes were open, but it was as if they were looking through him, their eyes empty, void of any emotion. Within seconds they’d managed to wrap their legs around him, flipping him onto the ground as they stood, preparing to fight. Ghost went to get up when they ran forward, tackling him back to the ground. The two fought once more, until Ghost managed to land a kick to their face, forcing them back as they fell. Ghost’s chest heaved as he stood, glaring at them when he saw their mask had fallen off. 

“Lt, I’ve got a clear shot!”

He watched them stand, slowly turning towards them. When they looked up at him, his heart stopped as his blood ran cold. 

No.

No.

There was no way, it was impossible. You, you were dead. You are dead. But if you’re dead, then how are you here, standing in front of him? You were looking right at him, but there wasn’t an ounce of recognition on your face, your eyes didn't hold the warm, welcoming feeling they used to. Instead they were cold, cold and dull. 

“Lt!”

Shaking his head, he practically screamed into the comms.

“No! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! It’s- It’s Grim.”

He could hardly get your name out, not after a year of refusing to say your name, always calling you by your callsign or the nickname he’d given you. But saying your name? It felt dirty, wrong. He watched as you titled your head to the side, slightly making a face.

“Who the hell is that?”

The others were screaming in his ear, but it was as if he was underwater, his only focus being on you. You, who was dead for a year, now standing in front of him not knowing who you were. Or for that matter, who he was. Frozen, he didn’t register the small device that rolled between you both, only snapping out of it when smoke filled the area. Coughing, he tried to wave the smoke out of his way, and through the smoky haze he could just barely make out your figure moving away from him. He yelled your name, his voice growing hoarse as he followed after you. Once the smoke cleared, he looked around, but there was no sign of you. The vans were gone from the street, and you, you were gone.

“Lt?”

Turning, he saw Soap and the others making their way to him. Shaking his head, he muttered your name, turning back towards the road the vans had come from.

“She’s alive. She was right here.”

He turned back towards the others, clenching his jaw as he looked at them.

“She’s alive and I’m getting her back.”

No matter what, he’d get you back. For a year, Ghost went with the motions, going from one mission to the next. Now, he had a purpose. Simon had a purpose. You. 

Reaper’s Fall Tags:

@derpoonsunbloom

@daryldixonh0e

Everything Tags:

@jedi-dreea 

@scarlett-witchhh

@sammysgirl1997

@cevans-winchester

@rafecameronswhore

@jennmurawski13-writes

[fluentmoviequoter]

to being ghosts.

Chapter 4 - Hunted Ghosts

Chapter Warnings: angst, spoilers for Vicious, mentions of death, Vic and reader's ghost talking to them is italicized. 2.4k+ words.

Being on the run isn’t new, but the company is. As you stay with Victor and Mitch and comfort Sydney when the sun sets, you wonder how long you can keep this up. Running and hiding is the opposite of living, and though your goal of freedom and taking back the world requires living in the shadows, you don’t have to drag your new family down with you.

“Heard any more from our friend?” you murmur into the darkness.

Surrounded by nothing but forest for miles, your voice seems too loud, though it’s no more than a whisper. Sydney and Dol are curled in a sleeping bag to your right, and you know Vic is still awake.

“Nothing since Boise,” Victor answers quietly. “You?”

“No. It’s weird and random, but it’s comforting. Someone- whatever it is- helping us is one of the only good things about this battle.”

Victor hums but only says, “Get some sleep.”

“For another day of running? Vic, we can’t keep doing this.”

“And we can’t have this conversation now. Sleep. Who knows when we’ll have another chance.”

You want to argue and push the conversation, but Sydney shifts next to you. Though she is aging invisibly, she’s still young, and this affects her more than you or Victor. As you lay down beside her, you think back to the nights of sleeping on forest floors, in abandoned houses, and not straying from the shadows for the last few days. You can only hide until it’s time to fight.

“Get up!” Victor says into your ear.

He shakes you gently before doing the same to Sydney and Mitch. As you sit up and blink against the sunlight filtering through the evergreen trees above you, you see Victor. The look on his face is one you know well. Panic poorly hidden by a faux concern. Something happened, and it spooked Victor.

“What?” you ask quickly.

“Up,” he repeats.

“Not until you tell me-“

“Trust me,” Victor snaps with a quick glance at Sydney.

You nod and obey Victor. As you gather your things and prepare to follow Victor, you ask yourself what could have happened that would have affected Victor like this. He trusts you now, so you don’t question that. The question is a whisper in your mind, and you don’t expect an answer.

Daniels.

You look up quickly, and Victor’s eyes are already on you. Something moves behind a tree before Victor looks around and closes his eyes. He’s pushing his power out, but time is running low. After you pull your bag over your shoulder, you take Sydney’s bag and tell her to get ready to run.

“Over here!” someone yells from south of your position.

“Now,” Victor calls.

Sydney takes your hand as she and Dol run beside you. Mitch and Victor move quietly behind you, but your only focus is getting yourself and Sydney to safety. If Daniels is here, if the New World Agency is looking for you, then he lied.

He either pulled the good-guy card and told Smoak he sent you away to protect you from Victor Vale and his charm, or he turned you in for being a traitor. Either way, the agents that will be with Daniels are hunting you or Victor; maybe even both. And they won’t stop until the hunt is over and someone is in NWA custody.

“Is he here?” Victor asks as he slows.

“That wasn’t his voice. If that was more agents, though…” you trail off and Victor nods.

“You mean Daniels?” Sydney asks. “He’s back?”

“He is, Syd. But that doesn’t change anything. We’re going to keep you safe just the same,” Victor promises.

“How do you know?”

You and Victor lock eyes, and he nods.

“Someone told us,” you answer.

“Sound different to you?” Victor asks you.

“Yeah. Rushed, panicky, like something surprised it.”

“It also sounded like a woman,” Victor adds. He turns away to murmur, “A dead woman.”

“Daniels,” Smoak greets from his comfortable office. “Tell me something good.”

“We found a trail and we’re going to keep following it. It seems that the traitor is with the EOs now,” Daniels explains.

“I still can’t wrap my head around what happened to your partner. NWA offered her a life; you gave her a partnership and a position on Task O… then you left her to protect her and then she’s abducted by a killer.”

“We’re not so sure about that theory now, sir. There’s a possibility that Agent- my former partner abandoned the agency. My crew is unsure if it was truly an abduction or treachery.”

“Continue to operate as if it is a confirmed abduction. The moment you find evidence to prove otherwise, advise me and we’ll reconsider the next move. Regardless, Agent Daniels, find the girl.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Vale.”

“Of course. I will keep you updated, Director Smoak.”

Daniels ends the call and looks around the Northern California forests. The trees are dense and tower over his head, yet he feels closer to finding you than at any other moment since he woke to find you missing from the plane. His continued lies to Daniels: first that he left you to keep you safe, and then that he returned to the plane to find you missing, likely abducted by Victor Vale, have kept him safe. But now, they’ve given him an excuse to hunt you, and he doesn’t bring his prey in alive.

“Daniels is good at his job, but we can’t outrun them,” you whisper to Victor.

“We have to keep moving,” he replies.

“I’m not saying to stop, I’m saying we change course.”

“We’re going to Boise.”

“But-“

“It’s not up for discussion. I’ve been running for a lot longer than you.”

“You saved me in San Francisco, Vic, but I saved you first. We’re not going to get anywhere taking turns as alpha. This is our lives, Vic.”

“You think I don’t know that? They’ve been chasing me for a lot longer than you. I have spent almost half of my life looking over my shoulder, and in the end, you’re not the one that will be experimented on.”

“Then let me go,” you answer through your teeth.

Victor’s jaw sets as he shakes his head. “No more stupid ideas.”

“You promised, Victor.”

“I did not. You asked a question: if I’d do a bad thing for a good reason, but I didn’t answer. And if you think I’m letting you walk away after everything you’ve taken us through, you’re stupider than I thought.”

You chuckle and offer a small smile as you say, “I should’ve known it would always come down to a battle of the intellect with you.”

“I told you that I wouldn’t stand by and watch you die; that means I won’t cause it either.”

“Then what are we supposed to do, Vic?”

Sydney calls your name, and you wave to tell her you’ll be over in a second.

“You know Daniels better than he knows you,” Victor says. “So, let’s do something he wouldn’t expect.”

You think for a moment before answering, “I can do that.”

Leave. He’s used to it.

Shaking your head to clear the unwelcome thought from the ghost in your mind, you wonder where the sudden demands to leave Victor are coming from. More importantly, you think, whoever the ghost is seems to know more about Victor than you do.

Now. If you care for any of them, you will walk away. He pushed me away, but I won’t let him do the same to you.

“Vic?” you whisper into the dark room.

There’s no reply or shuffling of blankets, so you stand slowly. As your eyes adjust to the room, you see Sydney and Dol in a sleeping bag, Mitch on an old couch, and Victor stretched across a pile of blankets in the corner. They all appear to be sleeping deeply, and you pull a paper from your pocket as you tiptoe to Victor’s side. You lay the note beside his hand and whisper an apology. As you step over Sydney's legs to reach the door, you lay the book you found in the first safe house beside her bag.

The door opens silently, and as you slip into the night, you trust that the ghost is leading you to do the right thing again. It’s the middle of the night, and you don’t hesitate to begin running through the forest. Tears stream down your face for the first mile, but as you get farther from Victor Vale and the only people you’ll ever consider to be your family, you accept that this is the best thing for them.

“What does she even look like?” someone asks across a clearing from you.

You stop and duck behind a tree to listen.

“Didn’t you look at the picture Smoak posted? She’s- I don’t know, she’s attractive, but don’t let that fool you. Daniels says she’s a traitor but she’s well trained,” a man answers.

They’re searching for you, you realize, not Victor. That’s why the ghost was so eager to get you separated from Victor. Without you by his side, the target is shifted from everyone to just you. Even with a target on your back, your only concern is for Victor, Sydney, Mitch, and Dol. When their footsteps fade into the distance, you begin running again. This time, you run with a smile.

When Victor wakes, something feels off. He moves his hand and sits up quickly when it brushes a loose piece of paper. When they arrived last night, Victor swept the house, and there was no paper lying beside the place he decided to sleep. As he reaches for it, he notices his name scribbled across the top and wills his eyes to focus.

Vic, I’m sorry. But you were right, our destiny was always leading us to being ghosts. You said it was our fight, but I won’t lead you, Sydney, or Mitch to your death for a fight that I started alone. Thank you for taking me in, for giving me a home and a family, for saving me in San Francisco, and for showing me what it’s like to be happy, even in a world that is ripping at the seams. I promise that I will do my best to fix it, and if we meet again, later in this fight or sometime after, I’d love to hear more about midnight and the Victor Vale charm you keep hidden.

Your name is scrawled across the bottom of the page, and Victor fights not to ball the paper up in his fist or light it on fire. Last night, he was convinced that you and he were in a place to trust one another and make decisions together. But your self-sacrificial tendencies caught up with you after running for so long. Victor wonders if, deep down, your willingness to die for the EOs has led you to believe you have to. Perhaps you’re attempting to atone for some past sin or one of the EOs you lost, but it doesn’t mean Victor has to like it.

“Stupid,” he mutters angrily.

Victor stands and rereads the letter before he puts it in his backpack. The spot where you slept is empty, and there’s no sign of you ever being beside him other than the note. When Sydney stirs and kicks a book by her feet, Victor’s anger flares. You left the book that brought you and Sydney close as if you anticipated never having another chance to give it to her.

As Sydney wakes up, Victor pushes against the corner of the dilapidated countertop as he plans to get revenge. On the New World Charter, the New World Agency, on Daniels, and you. He’s angry that you thought it was okay to make yourself comfortable in his life, to get close to him and show him how to trust again, and then disappear in the night. You meant well, he knows, but he doesn’t care as he imagines you out in the forest by yourself.

“Where is she?” Sydney asks softly.

Victor takes a deep breath as he turns to face her, and her downcast face and wide eyes make him question your motives once more.

“She left last night,” Victor says in an eerily even voice. “She thought it would protect us.”

Mitch pulls his laptop into his lap without opening his eyes. As he begins typing without looking, he mumbles something that Victor doesn’t catch.

“Why? Why would it protect us?” Sydney clarifies.

Mitch’s eyes open fully and roam across the screen before he answers, “Because the NWA is searching for her. ‘Wanted for treason’ according to the warrant sent out to every law enforcement and government agency.”

“Treason? Against whom?” Sydney asks as she moves to sit beside Mitch. “Vic,” she calls when she sees the screen.

“Mitch,” Victor says.

“Originally suspected to be abducted by NWA’s Most Wanted EO Victor Vale, NWA Agent Daniels, and Director Smoak now believe the former agent to be guilty of treason against the New World Charter,” Mitch reads. “And the New World Charter poses that treason is punishable by death.”

“What do we do?” Sydney inquires.

“We find her before they can,” Victor says as he rolls a blanket and puts it in his bag.

“How?”

“We find Daniels.”

“Vic, he’s hunting you,” Mitch reminds him.

“Then maybe it’s time we show the NWA that EOs are not game to be hunted, that we can hurt them and hunt them just as easily. They already fear me, Mitch, so I may as well give them a reason to.”

“Daniels won���t be alone.”

“He will, and he will tell me every little thing I want to know.”

“I’m with you,” Mitch promises as he gathers his things.

“We are too,” Sydney adds with her hand on Dol’s head. “And we miss her.”

“We’ll get her back,” Victor promises.

You will if you move quickly. She’s safe, for now.

Victor thanks the ghost, glad he finally knows who it is. He suddenly remembers something, though, and stands quickly.

“She’s going to Merit,” Victor announces.

“Really? After all this time, I didn’t expect another trip to Merit,” Mitch says.

“We’re not going to Merit. Daniels is still our target. She can handle herself.”

“If she finds Daniels first, there may not be enough to question,” Sydney jokes.

“Then let’s do what we do best,” Victor says with what Sydney thinks is the beginning of a smile. “Become ghosts until we’re ready to be seen.”

[medusacomplex]

The same line, given time and time again, in particular the last few months without pause and without hesitation (having become, in some part, a second nature, and thus a half-truth, even with nothing honest within it to be found): " Donna Thompson; I'm a friend of a girl who went missing a few months ago in the next town over, she ... " Mouth hangs agape for a moment; if anything, she does know how to sell a certain sense of desperation. This feeling of being without a friend, fearing for the worst, this she was no stranger to – and in these words were some measure of truthfulness. " Well, I've been looking for ... anything, just, whatever I can ... The cops, just. Totally dropped it. " Features contort, a sincerity to her expression, though as she studies that of the other, she can't help but feel they don't seem all too convinced. Lingering in their own expression is not a single sign of the same half-disinterested, half-sympathetic stares she had become accustomed to.

Though skepticism in her own lie begins to surface among her features, Nancy continues in earnest, brows knit together in fierce concentration. " I was wondering, if you'd have seen anything. " She cocks her head, just a simple tilt to the side. Maybe she's losing her mind again, maybe it's making these attempts at covering her steps fruitless, maybe this stranger was no friend. Paranoia, age-old and overwhelming, suffocating, tethers itself to her, and she begins to straighten out her posture, repositioning herself so as to make an easy exit, though not set off to firm an alarm prior to the escape.

" Do you ... have you seen anything, heard anything, weird, recently? Maybe some out-of-towners coming through, or, a young girl looking out of place, just ... anything. "

@mimeticry, asked: ❝ Your lies might fool some people, but not me. ❞

Stomach drops, an uneasiness sparking a strange, unnerved sensation. Impulsive memory redirects her to the days she'd spent drawing lines with her finger along the edge of her motel lamp, repeating the act again and again, making herself dizzy with the thought of being followed, with the fear of being watched. Throwing sheets over the mirrors of the shitty spots she'd camped out in, taking no chances, living her existence as one in the constant state of fight or flight, and knowing her own response to be both. What were they in this scheme? Was she so stupid to seek out, ask, an officer? An agent searching her out? Jaw tightens, a fear flashing across her eyes for just a moment before she regains her composure, sporting for a moment a neighborly type of smile.

" Sorry, I ... " What do they know? What could they possibly know? Nothing. She's been careful. She's been smart. Even in her frantic nature, in her looseness of false stories and covers, she had not been stupid enough to let it all fail. The girl missing is true. Nancy's own dedication to finding her, or finding what killed her in the more likely case, is honest. " I've made a mistake, I guess, I'm, um ... sorry to have disturbed you. " She leans over to her side, picking up her bag, throwing it over her shoulder with a deferential stare which bares down at the ground, a meager and curt nod.

[ssr-archives]

*

Here’s the thing. Rose has always had an eye for a good-looking fella. She always figured that after the war was over she’s find a man, settle down, raise a family.

That was before she joined up with the WAC as a switchboard operator and… well. Got her horizons expanded just a touch by a string of pretty hard-edged gals in uniform.

Of course, none of those affairs were ever going to last, but it was good to have a little bit of fun in a miserable situation, especially since none of that sort of fun was going to end up with her in a family way. Just about everybody got up to some kind of nonsense over on the front. Half the men, too, although of course she wasn’t meant to know anything about that.

The point is, she never expected any of it to follow her back home, but with Doris… well. One afternoon of splashing in the shallows and sharing the large picnic lunch Rose packed under her umbrella turned into two, and then three, and then before she knows it they’re meeting for shopping trips down in Studio City, and lunch dates that ramble into dinner dates without anyone paying attention, and by the time two weeks later when Doris leans across the towel they’re sharing on the empty beach at dawn and kissed her on the mouth, Rose already knows she’s done for.

It can’t last. She knows it can’t. But Doris is here, and she’s beautiful, and Rose didn’t survive the war without learning how to hang onto any good thing she can get with both hands for as long as she can.

She knows it’ll hurt when it ends, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth having while it lasts.

*

She’s right. It hurts.

It’s not even a fight that does it, which might have been easier. Doris’s mother back in La Crosse gets sick, and Doris goes home to take care of her. She even offers for Rose to come with her, but Rose has the SSR, and she knows, she knows that if she gives that up she’ll end up resenting Doris until she poisons everything between them and is left with nothing.

Doesn’t make it hurt any less, but she kisses Doris before dropping her off at the train station, and smiles through her tears when Doris turns to wave with one white-gloved hand, her polka-dot skirt swirling around her legs, and she knows she’s made the right choice.

It’s just going to sting for a while, but Rose is a big girl and she’s lived through worse. She knows how to move on.

*

She never means to tell anyone, after. She doesn’t really date much--or, well, she does, she goes out dancing for a night, lets the other agents and scientists and the occasional civilian buy her a drink and spend a few minutes spinning her across the dance floor to Duke Ellington, but it’s never any more than that. She’s learned her lesson, she thinks. Spinsterhood is starting to look mighty fine.

And then Michael happens.

He’s the last thing she ever expected. None of them, even Peggy, were expecting him to be alive, so that’s a shock, and then he’s tall and blond and handsome and...gentle in a way that Peggy isn’t. Rose figures it has to be an act. She’s read his service files, after all. She knows what he’s done. What he’s capable of. She’s watched Peggy slap him across the face in the middle of the SSR bullpen and tell him that she never wants to see him again.

She’s sure as hell not expecting him to ask her out to dinner a few weeks later when he stops by the office. She’s definitely not expecting to say yes.

Rose Edith Roberts is not known for making smart decisions when it comes to her personal life, though, so she doesn’t exactly know why she’s surprised at herself.

He’s charming at dinner and over cocktails later. He doesn’t ask her to dance, which is probably to be expected. He doesn’t use a crutch like Chief Sousa, but he’s still got a stiff leg, a limp that he hides well enough that she’s not even sure anyone else notices it.

“You can go,” he says, smiling, and nods his chin at the dance floor. “Honestly. I don’t mind. I’m just not one for dancing these days.”

Rose gives him a long look, then lies cheerfully, “Yeah, well, me neither. You wanna buy me another gin and tonic and finish that story about the faked briefcase instead? You didn’t really jam some stiff into army clothes and dump him for the Krauts to find, did you?”

“You know, that’s really supposed to be top-secret,” Michael says, but he’s smiling.

Rose shrugs. “I have clearance. If you don’t want to tell me, though, you can just buy me another drink.”

“What about both?” Michael asks, and the way he’s smiling leaves her no choice but to smile back.

*

So, yeah. Michael Carter. Didn’t see that one coming.

She doesn’t let him kiss her that first night, or the next date when he takes her out to the boardwalk and buys her a cotton candy like they’re a couple of school-kids enjoying their summer break instead of a rather battered pair of spies. Former spies, in Michael’s case.

He doesn’t mention Peggy, and she doesn’t bring it up. Peggy herself has been tight-lipped about the whole business, which isn’t unusual for her, and Rose has a pretty good nose for figuring out when to push and when to leave it alone. This is a time to leave it alone.

But Michael is charming, and when he helps her into a cab later and asks if she’d like to take a picnic to the beach sometime later in the week, she barely even hesitates before she says yes.

She’s been over Doris for a while now, but something about picnics at the beach just always get to her. But she looks at Michael, his blond hair gleaming under the street lamps, his soft blue eyes and the curl of his smile, and she thinks, yeah. Yeah, she can do this.

“Sure thing,” she says. “Maybe I can teach you how to surf.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have much luck with that,” Michael says, but he’s smiling. As the cab pulls away onto the street, she leans out the window to wave, and then to watch the shape of him grow smaller as they pull away until the cab turns a corner toward her apartment and he’s gone.

*

She takes him out to Will Rogers Beach that weekend. It hasn’t changed much in the year since she’s been there. Still choked with tourists, the white sand shifting beneath her bare feet as she slips her sandals off. Michael offers her his arm and she takes it, but she doesn’t let him take the picnic basket. He doesn’t protest, which is a point in his favor.

It’s not until they’re sprawled out on the red and white checkered blanket, their picnic lunch demolished between them, passing a bottle of wine back and forth like a pair of teenagers, that Rose leans back on her elbows and looks over at him, at his bare feet buried in the sand and his sunglasses tilted on his nose and the pink beginnings of a burn across his shoulders, his blonde hair disarranged by the salt breeze, and thinks— oh.

She never really has noticed the fall, has she? Not until it’s too late.

Michael glances over at her, quizzical. “Have I got something on my face?”

“No,” Rose says. Michael is still looking at her, the beginnings of a smile starting to curve his mouth, and it seems like the easiest thing in the world to lean across the blanket and kiss him.

It’s just a kiss, nothing special. Just a sweet first kiss, entirely proper because they’re out in public. There’s no reason for her heart to flutter like it does when they pull apart, when Michael cups her cheek and smiles at her, when he says, “I’m so glad you did that. I don’t think I would have had the courage.”

“Aren’t you some kind of war hero?” Rose asks, grinning.

“Hardly a hero.” Shadows flicker in his eyes, then vanish as if they were never there at all. She doesn’t ask. She’s got a good idea at their causes, and she was in the same war as him. She knows how it is.

And anyway, they’re both here now, on this warm beach full of tourists with the ocean spread out before them and Michael’s hand still warm on her cheek. He’s close enough that she can smell his cologne, see the faint crinkles in the corners of his eyes, and there’s really nowhere else in the world she’d rather be right now.

“Thank you,” he says, “for coming out with me.”

“Thank you for asking,” Rose murmurs, and closes her eyes when he kisses her again. It’s another soft, sweet one, but there’s a hint of promise there now that makes her flush. When they break apart, she says, “I haven’t been here in so long. Not since—”

She breaks off. She’s not ashamed of everything that happened with Doris, but it’s not exactly the kind of thing you bring up on a third date. Even if she gets the feeling that Michael might actually understand. He has that look about him.

“Not since what?” he asks softly.

Finally, she opens her eyes. He’s so close, and his blue eyes are so pretty, his expression gentle.

You can trust him, she thinks suddenly. You can tell him.

So she does.

Nothing Fancy, Nothing Much

Title: Nothing Fancy, Nothing Much Link: On AO3 Fandom: Agent Carter Pairing: Rose/OFC, Rose/Michael Warnings: None Other tags: Character Study, Wistful Summary:  Rose Roberts takes a job in L.A., and eventually finds her feet and her place in the world.

Written as part of the Fandom Supporting Migrants fic exchange for @musiclmaiden who donated to RAICES.

*

What with one thing and another, Rose has been in LA for more than a month before she actually makes it out to the beach. Surprisingly, she doesn’t actually mind that much, even though the beach was half the reason she decided to take the job when Agent–well, Chief, now–Sousa offered back in July.

Okay, more like a third of the reason. She really does like Chief Sousa, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that whatever Peggy managed to pull off back in New York, the options for a gal like her were…well. Limited.

Besides, LA is like a dream. Scorching hot, sure, but it’s a dry heat, and the shop down the street from her new apartment sells these adorable little parasols to keep her from breaking out too badly in freckles. She’s been able to relax her wardrobe a bit, she’s stocked up on bathing suits, and even Chief Sousa has taken to wearing a string of increasingly outrageous Hawaiian shirts, although she’s pretty sure that pretty blonde he’s been stepping out with has something to do with that.

Hard luck on Peggy, but that’s just how the cookie crumbles sometimes.

Anyway, it’s mid-September before she makes it out to Will Rogers Beach. In New York, it would be getting too cold for swimming this time of year, but here in California it’s just as scorchingly hot as ever, and by the time she gets her towel and umbrella and picnic lunch arranged on the white sand, she’s all over sweat and ready for a dip.

Despite the heat, the ocean is still icy; she’s not quite sure what she was expecting. She shrieks, splashes, and topples over on her fanny, and someone laughs nearby, a small warm hand reaching down to help her up before she can be too put out about it, and she looks up to see warm brown eyes sparkling in a pretty sun-browned face, blonde curls pulled behind a bright red bandanna.

“You all right?” the woman asks, white teeth flashing bright.

“Fine,” Rose says faintly. She feels a little faint, and she’s pretty sure it’s not the heat or the tumble she just took.

And that’s how she meets Doris.

Keep reading

[write4tomorrow]

Chapter 2: Efficient Daughter

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x CIA Agent!Reader

Summary: During the training with Maverick for the mission, the pilots must also complete “hostile condition” training with a CIA interrogator (reader). Hangman thinks this type of training is a waste of time until the reader exposes him. Enemies to Lovers. 

Genre: Adventure / Fluff

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Epilogue (Complete)

“I just call it, ‘the interrogation game’.” You explained to a few of the pilots. “It sounds less threatening than ‘an exercise.” 

“Are you sure you want to play another game with me?” Hangman interrupted. It was day three of teaching the pilots how to lie and read one another. However, it was the first day Hangman was a student. Almost like he was avoiding you. 

“Excuse me?” You glanced down at some paperwork on the clipboard you held, refusing to give Hangman your full attention.  During the past few days, you had been too aware of where Hangman was. If you walked into a room, he was the first person you noticed. If you were listening to the dogfight over a radio, his voice was the one you listened for.

Last night your dad had even asked you about Hangman. You were giving a report to Warlock, Maverick, and you father when Cyclone decided to ask about him.

"What are your thoughts on Hangman," your father asked. You froze, trying your best to conceal the strange warmth that was climbing up your neck. You glanced down at the folder you were carrying. All three men were seated around the office and remained quiet. You teetered from your left foot to right foot before looking back at your dad. He had a sly smile on his face and you knew what he was thinking.

"He's fine." You huffed. Warlock and Maverick exchanged a look. Your dad raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"What?" You asked, realizing too late you sounded like an embarrassed child. Your dad held up his hands in surrender.

"Nothing," he lied. You rolled your eyes and continued your report but you didn't like the look your dad gave Warlock or Maverick.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Hangman asked, bringing your thoughts back to the class you were teaching. You shook your head and told yourself to focus. You were slowly walking around two empty chairs that were facing one another in the front of the room. Right now, there were only five students present: Phoenix, Rooster, Bob, Coyote, and Hangman. It was difficult to avoid Hangman's taunts, but you were here to do a job. You needed to make sure he didn’t disrupt your lesson.

"I didn't realize you liked hearing my voice that much," Hangman leaned back in his chair.

"Hangman-" Rooster said in a low voice. But you didn't need Bradley to fight your battles for you.

"I'm not playing any games with you, Seresin." You said with a deep breath.

“I mean,” Hangman shrugged from the corner of your eye, “I’d hate to bring up that terrible game of pool you played.” You glanced up at the arrogant pilot to find his green eyes glittering with something mischievous. You felt like he was issuing a challenge. You could almost hear him say, “C’mon, play with me.”

“Hangman you’ll go first, today.” You said, turning back to your clipboard. 

“Yes ma’am,” was all he said in reply. Your grip tightened on your pen. You watched your knuckles turn white and wondered how Hangman’s voice could so thoroughly get under your skin. 

Judging by the small laugh that Hangman let out, you knew he liked the effect he was having on you.

Get a grip, you told yourself.

“Hangman, you're going to be paired with Rooster. Rooster, you remember how to play?” You looked up at Bradley who nodded. Your friend gave you an encouraging smile and you returned it with a thankful wink. 

You gestured to the empty seats in the front of the room. Hangman, following Rooster’s lead, came and took a seat in one of the two empty chairs. Hangman and Rooster glared at one another. You saw Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote try to hide their smiles. 

For Hangman’s benefit, you explained the rules of the game. There were two ways to play: first, you could do two truths and a lie where your partner tried to learn your tells when you lied. The first pilot to correctly guess your lie three times, won the game. The second way to play was tougher. You could take turns asking your partner questions and it was closer to an actual interrogation. First person to get away with telling two lies without being caught was the winner. But if you were caught lying, the other person automatically won. And if you were incorrect when you called someone out on a lie, you lost. 

“The loser does 75 push ups with Holdo,” Phoenix added, after you explained the rules. 

“Let’s play the second way,” Hangman proposed, “I’ll go first. Rooster, what’s your middle name?”

“Nick,” Rooster answered smoothly. You knew it was the truth, it was his father’s name. 

“How’d you learn to play pool?” Rooster asked. Hangman shrugged. Your eyes narrowed. 

“My brothers taught me,” Hangman grinned, “What’s your ideal woman, Rooster?” You watched Rooster’s head tilted back a little bit. You saw the smallest hint of hesitation and Rooster’s eyes flicked to Phoenix. You knew where this was going. 

“Hangman, you lied,” you placed a hand on the back of Rooster’s chair and sighed. “How did you actually learn to play pool?” 

“This is bullshit.” Hangman growled and stood up. He glared at you with a tightlipped grin but there was frustration written across his face. 

“I didn’t know you and I were playing the game,” Hangman said, pointing a finger at you. You held your ground and repeated your question. You didn’t know why, but this was a sensitive topic for Hangman. You watched as the calm, cool guy facade slid back into place over Hangman’s face. 

“I mean, come on, y/n,” Hangman said with a small grin, “if you’re mad you lost a game of pool, just say so. No need to hold a grudge.” You looked down at the clipboard resting on your hip. With a sigh, you wrote a note.

“This isn’t about pool, lieutenant. My job is to make sure-” Your pen scraped across the surface as Hangman pulled the clipboard away from you. 

“Don’t hide from me in your papers,” Hangman said with a wicked smile, “my eyes are up here... ma’am.” You felt your temper rise and for the first time in the long three days since you began these lessons, you didn’t make an attempt to stop yourself. 

Fine, you thought, if he wants all of my attention, then so be it. It was time to bring out the ruthless agent that the Navy hired to train their pilots. You narrowed your eyes and threw your shoulders back. 

“If your brothers didn’t teach you pool, I’m willing to bet it was your father. He was probably in the Navy too. Maybe you weren’t his favorite kid. Maybe you tried to make up for it by being good at a game he enjoyed, so pool. Maybe you never learned how to beat him. Maybe- Hangman!”

You stopped speaking as Hangman’s face twisted into something cruel. He took a step towards you and you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a step back. He threw your clipboard into the corner and pointed at you, again. He was looking for words, something to hurt you. 

“No wonder no one likes you, Ice Queen,” Hangman said in a near whisper. Before you could say anything, he marched out of the room. You blinked a few times before recovering. If Hangman was looking to hurt you, he found a way. It wasn’t easy being Cyclone’s daughter and people tended to steer clear of you once they discovered who your dad was. For that reason, you didn’t talk about your dad. The only people that knew were Phoenix and Rooster. 

It was a low blow, you told yourself with a gentle shake of your head.

“y/n-” Phoenix said from her seat.

“Coyote, Rooster, you two are partners. Bob and Phoenix, you’re next.” You picked up your clipboard from the floor and told yourself everything was fine. You gave Phoenix a look and tried to tell her you were okay. 

Hangman found Cyclone, Warlock, and Maverick talking in Cyclone's office. It had been less than an hour since he left your class but he had made up his mind. He needed to speak to Cyclone. 

“Yes, Lieutenant?” Cyclone asked, noticing Hangman by the door. 

“Sir,” Hangman said, “I’d like to request that I be excused from y/n y/l/n’s training, sir.”

“Why?” Maverick asked. He still wore his aviator suit so he must have just landed from his most recent dogfight. 

“She-” Hangman stuttered, “I just-”

“She’s an ice queen?” Maverick asked. Hangman blinked a few times as Maverick stared at him. It sounded so juvenile when he heard the insult come from Maverick. 

“I heard you earlier,” Maverick said with a shrug. 

“She’s always been a little… cold.” Cyclone admitted. “I raised her to be efficient.” Warlock nodded in agreement and Maverick let loose a sigh. Cyclone only smiled as Hangman froze. 

I raised her to be efficient. 

Cyclone didn’t look away as Hangman stared at his face. How could he have missed it? You and Cyclone had almost identical stares. Hangman thought back to the night he met you. You had a flare for the dramatic, a cunning side. And so did Cyclone. And Hangman had just insulted you in front of your dad… his boss. Not to mention, he probably didn’t even succeed. Hangman knew you were tough. You could hold your own when it came to insults. So his words probably didn’t have any effect on you. That’s what Hangman told himself, anyway. 

Hangman kept thinking about the night he met you at The Hard Deck. The two of you traded insults like it was a competition. Hell, he was impressed by how well you could keep up with his witty comebacks. You had been so full of joy and mischief and Hangman liked that version of you. But here, on the base, you were as cold as ice. No jokes, no smiles. Well, you smiled at Rooster and Pheonix which only served to make Hangman more angry. 

Before, you were the impressive young woman he beat at pool. Now, you were… Cyclone’s efficient daughter. 

Hangman felt himself open and close his mouth a few times before Maverick stood and clasped him on his shoulder. The older pilot smiled and grimaced as he watched Hangman for a moment. 

“Good luck, Lieutenant.” Maverick exited the room. 

“If you have a problem with y/n’s class, take it up with her.” Cyclone said. “But if I’m being honest, I would play her at her own game. I’m guessing she humiliated you?” Hangman, now more confused than ever, nodded. Cyclone continued, “Yeah, she’s good at that. But if you want her respect, play her game better than her. Sometimes it’s the only thing that works.” Hangman was shocked to hear Cyclone speak that way. It must have shown on his face because his superior let out a low laugh. 

“You’re dismissed, Hangman.” Cyclone watched as the young pilot strolled out of the room. 

“You’re starting some kind of trouble.” Warlock said, eyeing Cyclone. Warlock knew Cyclone loved his daughter. He also knew that you had inherited your gift for trouble from your father. Now, Cyclone sat across from Warlock and grinned.

“I love my daughter, but sometimes she doesn’t know how to play nice. If anyone can beat her at her own game, it’s Hangman,” Cyclone answered. 

“And,” Warlock began slowly, “if anyone can humble Hangman-”

“It’s my daughter.” Cyclone finished. 

Part 3

A/N: Y'all, the positive feedback on ch. 1 made me smile so hard. I'm so glad you made it through part two. I wrote Ch. 5 today and it's long but I am so excited for where this story goes. Please let me know what you think! Ch. 3 will be out within 48 hours :)

Taglist: @ponyboys-sunsets @rachelccollier @luckyladycreator2 @marland56 @lclove2012-blog @shaded-echoes-recs

[starwalker42]

febuwhump day 19: "you deserve this"

sequel to day 7 | tw: graphic violence, torture | teen and above

The flashes come at random. 

Mulder screaming in pain when she's hunched over paperwork.

A knife blade gleaming in the light from a bare bulb, making her choke on her coffee.

Her name, whimpered through gritted teeth as she stands under the spray of the shower. 

Sometimes, they come when she's asleep, and she wakes up not knowing what was a dream and what was reality. 

They visions are shorter than they were when they first started - it must take the man a lot of energy to project them - but they haven't stopped. Scully considers that maybe that's better, because at least they prove Mulder's still alive… but then another vision will come, and she'll be feeling sick to her stomach again. 

She's giving a briefing to the task force, fighting to keep her force from cracking, when one comes through, the strongest one yet. She’s no longer watching the scene unfold, she’s inside it, hearing and seeing but also smelling the blood and sweat, and feeling the cold, cold air of the basement against her skin.

Mulder lies on the ground at her feet, wrapped as best as he can be in his torn shirt, which is stained with blood and dirt from the ground. He’s shaking, and she’s not sure if it’s from fear, shock, hypothermia, or all of the above.

She feels the words reverberate in her chest before she hears them.

“You deserve this. For what you did to those girls.”

Mulder looks up. He’s in pain, she knows, but his eyes are clear. He’s alert, and he’s vigilant, and she knows that look – he’s realised something.

“Tell me about the girls.” His voice is hoarse. “Tell me what I did to them.”

She hears the snick of a switchblade, just out of her line of sight; Mulder’s eyes flick down to where her hands are. She feels suddenly sick. And then she realises something – the man isn’t attacking Mulder, not yet. The knife is brought in front of her eyes, and she watches as the hand holding it seems to go through the motions of slicing and stabbing, cutting through nothing but thin air. She realises what Mulder’s seen.

The voice again. “You hurt them. You hit them, cut them… you’re a sick fuck. They were only kids.”

History of violence. Young, female victims. 

Mulder says in his negotiator voice, “You want to imagine I did it, right? I look enough like you.”

Caucasian male, mid-to-late thirties, tall, dark hair and dark eyes.

“But I didn’t hurt them. It was you who hurt them.”

The vision in front of her wavers momentarily, and then reassembles itself. He loses control of it when he’s angry. When he loses control of his emotions. Scully prays that Mulder somehow notices, and keeps the guy calm, keeps him talking.

Mulder edges back a little as she advances, mumbling.

“They punished me. Kept me in that cell… now I gotta punish you for it…”

He’s done time in prison. Probably recently…

Mulder can’t back up any further – he’s pressed against the wall as the knife runs along an uncovered spot on his chest, starting a bloom of blood in its wake. He grits his teeth and looks her right in the eyes, and she sees. Not resignation, or a loss of hope, but something far more dangerous, right now: confidence, and trust. In her.

He’s going to throw caution to the wind, because he believes it’ll help her to save him.

“Scully, I can hear cars. There’s no windows.”

Lives somewhere busy. Somewhere with a basement, or an outbuilding.

She hears a growl, and watches helplessly as Mulder is thrown to the floor, overpowered in his weak state by the man, and he’s there, lying on the ground as the blade comes down…

Then she comes out of it, the vision clearing suddenly, and she's on the floor - Skinner is crouched next to her, frantically repeating her name. 

"Agent Scully."

She blinks a few times to clear her vision, gasping as she fights to calm her racing heart.

The information she’s gathered flashes rapidly through her mind, and she hates the fact that Mulder was right. With a suspect history, physical description, and probable location, she can work out where he is. If he’s still alive. God, Mulder, you idiot.

“Scully?” Skinner places a hand on her shoulder, his eyes shadowed with concern.

She looks up at him.

"I think I know how to find Mulder."

@today-in-fic

@bookwyrm1701

[domxmarvel]

Loyalty Part 7 Avatar route

Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko X Male!Reader    

Words:554

The day of the invasion was today,and everyone else that they knew had joined in. You only recognized a few of them,and they sat down as Hakoda explained the plan. Everyone was getting ready,and so were you. And you were quickly on your way,it didn’t take long before you reached the gate. It was time for the second phase,everyone ran below deck and into the submarines. 

“Sokka this is incredible”You said,moving closer to the group. Looking around like a child,water was never your element but you had to admit the ocean was really beautiful. You were snapped out of your thoughts when.

“Everyone in position,”Hakoda commanded. Soon you reached the shore and that’s when the real fight started.Rocks,water and fire flying everywhere. You noticed that the ones on higher ground were shooting arrows. 

“We need to take them out”You pointed to them with your sowards.

“Katara you have to take them out,Y/N”He gestured for you to follow.

As you were fighting to get to the palace Aang came back.

“Please tell me you're here because the Fire Lord turned out to be a big wimp and you didn't even need the eclipse to take him down.”

“He wasn't home. No one was. The entire palace city is abandoned.” Aang said,frustrated. “It's over. The Fire Lord is probably long gone. Far away on some remote island where he'll be safe during the eclipse.” That’s when you remembered the tunnels

“No,he’s still here”You gestured to the volcano. “I remember hearing about some tunnels under the volcano,I never saw them but it’s possible that he’s there.”

“Then let’s go”The group quickly jumped on top of Appa and flew to the volcano.

“I can feel it,Y/N’s right”Toph opened a path for you,the group quickly ran through until you reached a metal door. Which she quickly opened for you,letting you make your way further in. Soon reaching a door. It looked way fancier than the metal door,clearly it contained something important. Aang blasted the door open only to find a throne with Azula sitting in it. 

“So, you are alive after all.I had a hunch that you survived. But it doesn't matter.I've known about the invasion for months. And I knew that you’d be nothing but a traitor”She stood up,Toph encased her in between two rocks but suddenly they broke apart. Two Dai li agents dropped from the ceiling. You started to fight them,Toph pushed one of them into a pillar and trapped him in between them. You and Sokka took care of the other one,quickly running after Azula until Sokka stopped you.

“Wait! Aang! Toph! Y/N! Stop attacking! Don't you see what she's doing? She's just playing with us. She's not even trying to win this fight!”That’s when you realize

“You’re right she’s just trying to distract us” You quickly ran through the halls but there was absolutely no one around. She distanced you long enough for the eclipse to end.  “We need to leave!”

“Y/N’s right we need to go”The four of you quickly ran out,jumping on top of Appa you flew away

“I know a place where we can hide”

[winter-soldier-vibes]

avenger!reader who suffers from depression and is really hard on herself/themself and blames themself after a mission went wrong and locks themselves out, bucky is worried abt them and comforts them

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count:3102 (wow I went off the rails a bit huh 😅)

Warnings: self-blame, mentions of death, nightmares, panic attacks, breakdown, lots of tears, this one’s really angsty, flashbacks, some fluff/comfort but so much angst

A/N: I loved this request and had a great time writing it. This one’s a lil more angsty than I usually do and deals with some heavier themes than some of my other ones, so please take care of yourself and heed the warnings. I love you guys so much!

There was nothing you could have done.

You were the first off the quinjet, anxious to get out of the unbearable silence.

You kept your head down as you walked quickly to your room, trying to make as little noise as possible, stumbling to get into your room as fast as possible, locking the door behind you as you let the tears fall.

You looked up at the ceiling, trying to stave off your breakdown as you tried to keep taking even breaths.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” you said in a small voice.

“Yes?” the AI responded.

You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice even. “Turn on soundproofing, please.”

“As you wish. I am picking up on signs of distress, would you like me to call Sergeant Barnes?”

You shook your head violently at the thought of anyone, especially your boyfriend seeing you like this. “No.”

“Are you sure? Would you like me to call -”

“Don’t let anyone in this room.”

“As you wish, Y/n.”

You heard a noise indicating that the room had been soundproofed.

And you lost it.

You brought a hand to your face and sank back against the wall, shoulders shaking with the force of your sobs. You pushed yourself back against the wall, trying to ground yourself. Your mind flashed back to the mission you had just returned from and you let out an agonizing scream.

You’ll never forget the looks on their faces.

“Y/n, come on we have to go!”

“Wait - no I almost have them!”

“Help us - please - no don’t go!”

Blood curdling screams that didn’t belong to you, followed by your own.

A building had collapsed on an innocent family in the aftermath of the fight. You tried to get them out, but you were too late, Steve pulling you away at the last second before you were taken out too.

You were so angry, you had been so close - if you had seen them sooner, if you had just a few more seconds, maybe you could’ve gotten them out.

The last thing that they saw was their only hope being pulled away from them before being suffocated.

You were the last thing they saw, you had promised to get them out.

And you had lied to them.

The last thing they felt was hope that they’d see another day. No - the last thing they felt was betrayal and fear when they realized that one of the world’s greatest heroes couldn’t be their hero too.

The moments that had followed were a blur, your eyes frozen on where their eyes had been, shock coursing through your veins. You had seen someone die before but...not like that. Not when you could’ve maybe saved them.

The shock quickly bubbled into anger as you turned to Steve.

“Why the FUCK would you do that? I could’ve saved them!”

“You would’ve died Y/n!”

“If you hadn’t been distracting me then maybe I would’ve gotten them out in time!”

You had angry tears in your eyes, hitting Steve’s chest and doing exactly nothing to his broad form while he tried to console you.

“Get the fuck away from me! I could’ve saved them, this is YOUR fault.”

The ride back was silent. No one dared to talk to you about what had happened. You felt bad after a while but you couldn’t apologize without completely crumbling. If you opened your mouth you were certain that sobs would come rather than words.

You did feel horrible for what you said, because it wasn’t true. It wasn’t Steve’s fault.

It was yours.

So you waited until you returned to the privacy of your room, screaming bloody murder over the guilt you felt. Replaying what had happened, telling yourself everywhere you had gone wrong, every hesitation that could’ve given you an extra few seconds.

You felt like you’d never stop seeing their eyes, paralyzed by fear.

You were the last thing they saw, and now you would remember their last moment for the rest of yours.

You couldn’t imagine the amount of pain and fear they had felt when they realized they weren’t getting out of the rubble alive. That they would die as a part of a warzone they didn’t intend to be a part of. The feeling of hope draining from their bodies, blood running cold as they realized they had mere seconds left.

“No!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, body curling in on itself as you drew your knees in and wrapped your arms around your torso, sick to your stomach.

This was your fault, and you would never forget it.

---

The rest of the team had sighed as they watched you get off the quinjet, walking a bit too fast to be alright. They shared concerned looks with each other, watching your form disappear into the compound.

You weren’t okay, but after what had happened when Steve tried to approach you, they thought it best to give you some space.

The rest of them entered the compound, going their separate ways as Steve sat to down and ran a hand down his face, trying to get his mind off of what had happened. He was shaken up too, but he couldn’t lose you like that. You would die protecting strangers, and while he thought that was noble, he wondered when there wouldn’t be someone to pull you out in time.

Bucky had come down to check on you, knowing that the team had gotten back from a mission. But before he could knock on the door, F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke. “Sergeant Barnes, Y/n has requested that she not be disturbed.”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, both in concern and confusion. Usually when a mission hit you hard, you would talk to him about what had happened. So either you were just tired, or this was worse than it had ever been.

He clenched his jaw and stood there for another few moments before he walked away, heading towards anyone who may be able to tell him what happened on the mission.

He came into the common room, seeing Steve doing a mission report. Well - the mission report was in front of him and he was staring blankly at it.

“Steve?” Bucky said softly, trying not to startle him.

Steve didn’t look up.

“Steve,” Bucky said a little louder.

Steve looked up from the papers, shaking his head slightly. “Hey, Buck. What’s up?”

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, taking in Steve’s tired appearance and how his mind seemed elsewhere.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Steve said, barely looking at Bucky.

“You know, I’ve taken care of enough black eyes from mister back-alley hero to know when you’re not really fine.” Bucky said with a small smirk.

Steve’s eyes flicked up to Bucky’s as he sighed. “It’s not me you should be worried about,” he muttered.

“What happened?” Bucky asked.

Steve recounted the mission to his friend, Bucky getting increasingly concerned about you. He knew you had a tendency to blame yourself for different things, and he knew what blaming yourself for someone’s death was like, even if you couldn’t control the situation.

Bucky was brainwashed. You were too late. Two different things, but the survivor's guilt was excruciating.

“Is she okay?” Bucky asked nervously.

“She didn’t get hurt, if that’s what you mean,” Steve started, “but she seemed pretty shaken up. You haven’t talked to her?”

“She doesn’t want to be bothered,” Bucky said.

Steve nodded. “Just give her some time,” he said, worriedly.

Bucky nodded, though unconvinced. He bottled up his emotions until the two of you met. Ever since the two of you never kept anything from each other. And he knew that seeing someone die and feeling at fault for it could destroy you. He wasn’t sure if time and space was what you needed.

But it was what you wanted right now. So he wouldn’t get in the way.

----

Back in your room you were curled in a ball on the floor, sobs wracking your body as you lost all sense of time and space and all you knew was it hurt and if you closed your eyes they were right there and you couldn’t do anything about it. You had a hand pressed to your chest as you tried to breathe but eventually gave way to a new surge of agony when your mind went back to how people died and you couldn’t help them.

You tried to calm down but then your mind would remind you that they had a family and they would never see them again and it was your fault.

“Stop, please just stop,” you put your hands over your ears as you tugged slightly on your hair.

They died terrified.

“Please make it stop,” you sobbed.

You were supposed to help them and you failed.

“No, God, please stop…”

They died because of you

----

You had fallen asleep on the floor at some point, when, you weren’t sure, but you woke up to your own screams. You were drenched in a cold sweat, dried tears on your face and chest heaving as you tried to breathe. You brought your hands to your mouth when you realized it was just a dream, sobbing once again.

You didn’t know why these people’s death was hitting you harder than any other death you had seen. This wasn’t the first time you had seen people die - far from it. You’d killed your fair share of agents without a hint at remorse. Because they deserved it.

You’d seen buildings burn down, fall apart, innocent people die - but you’d never felt as responsible as you did this time. Because they were right there. And you were so close.

But they still died and you saw their last moments. And you were theirs.

And it was destroying you.

----

You didn’t leave your room the following day. Or the day after that.

Needless to say, the team was extremely worried about you. Especially Bucky.

He knew what survivor’s guilt could do to a person, and he knew being alone with your thoughts wasn’t helping. He also knew that pushing the topic could do much more harm than good, causing you to retreat further into yourself.

He tried texting you, wanting to let you know that he was there for you, that he was worried about you, and that he loved you.

None of them went though because your phone was off, you having not even looked at it since coming back from the mission.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. was still telling everyone that you did not want to be disturbed, as you had requested. Obviously Tony had the power to override the locks, but again, no one wanted to push you.

When it had been 3 days since you had seen any sunlight, Bucky had had enough. He knew you couldn’t be taking proper care of yourself and he couldn’t let you do that to yourself. He had Tony override your locks and he came to your door, knocking gently.

“Y/n?”

Silence.

He knocked again, a little louder. “Y/n? I’m coming in, alright?”

Silence.

Bucky took a deep breath before he opened your door slowly, peeking his head in. it was the middle of the afternoon and your room was dark, the only light coming from the hallway and from the cracks between the shades, which were drawn shut.

Bucky let himself in and turned on a lamp, shutting the door behind him. He looked at you with worried eyes as he took in your appearance.

You were pressed up against the headboard of your bed, knees drawn to your chest as you stared blankly, your eyes fixated on your bedsheets. Your eyes were red, face blotchy, your hair was a mess and you were still wearing your uniform from the mission.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said quietly, voice raspy from yelling these past few days.

“Y/n -”

“Get out,” you said quietly, though not angrily.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, y/n.”

“Please,” you said, cursing yourself as your voice cracked. You didn’t want to breakdown in front of Bucky.

“It’s not your fault, y/n.”

You pushed yourself off of the bed, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this right now, Bucky.”

“You’re going to have to talk about it at some point, y/n.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“This kind of thing isn’t going to go away, okay? Time heals but not by itself.” You weren’t listening as you ran a hand over your face, overwhelmed.

“Please, talk to me y/n. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“I’m fine.”

“This isn’t fine. Not taking care of yourself and living in the dark staring at the wall isn’t fine, y/n. Please, don’t hide from me. It’s just me, y/n.”

You shook your head, eyes glazed over like glass. “I could’ve saved them.” you said simply.

“Y/n, there was nothing -”

“BULLSHIT!” You yelled. “There had to have been something I could do, if I had gotten there earlier or - or if I had moved faster or been stronger then I could’ve gotten them out! It’s my fault they’re dead okay? I couldn’t save them and that’s my fault!”

Bucky walked over to you slowly, asking you to look at him. “It isn’t your fault, y/n. The building collapsed, no one could’ve gotten them out.”

“I could have saved them.” you said again, tears falling down your face. “I could have gotten them out. I was the last thing they saw and you know what I was doing? Being carried away like some coward. They died afraid because a superhero couldn’t save them. And that’s on me.”

Bucky shook his head slightly. “You can’t save everyone, y/n.”

“So what, am I supposed to choose? I’m supposed to choose whether I save people or move on because they aren’t part of the mission? Am I supposed to let them die?” you asked incredulously.

“You can’t risk your own life like that, y/n.”

“What? And pretend like my life is any more important than theirs?!” you exclaimed.

“Y/n -”

“No, why do I have the right to walk away from people because I’m afraid of getting hurt when they’re about to die? What gives me that right?”

“Because I can’t lose you!” Bucky exclaimed. “Yes, those people matter, but goddamn it y/n, you have helped so many people and you will keep saving so many people, but you can’t do that if you’re dead. We help who we can and mourn the rest. It’s not your fault that those people died. There was nothing that you could have done.”

“But if I had a few more seconds -”

“The building still would have fallen and you’d be asking yourself for a few more seconds. There is nothing you or anyone else could’ve done.”

You stayed silent, more tears falling from your eyes. Bucky pulled you in for a hug as your shoulders started to shake with more sobs. “I know it doesn’t make it hurt any less, but it’s not your fault.”

“I can’t stop seeing the look they had on their faces,” you shook your head. “Everytime I try to sleep I see them and I can’t make it go away. And I want to forget but I don’t deserve to and it hurts but I don’t deserve to forget.”

“I know, I know,” Bucky said, knowing all too well what being haunted by the fear on someone’s face was like. “But it’s not your fault. You didn’t let them die, y/n. You would’ve given anything to save them, if Steve hadn’t pulled you away you would’ve died with them. You didn’t run away even though you knew you would die if you stayed. You do know that right?”

“I don’t care.”

“I don’t think you mean that,” Bucky said softly. You felt new tears fall from your eyes as you hid your face into Bucky’s chest.

“You can’t tell me that nothing could be done. You can’t tell me that innocent people were going to die and that’s the way it has to be. That isn’t fair,” you spoke through your tears.

Bucky pulled back to wipe the tears from your face and look you in the eyes. “They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you did everything in your power to save them. It’s not your fault that you got there too late. Those HYDRA agents who destroyed the city - it’s their fault. Not yours.”

“I’m supposed to protect people,” you said as you shrugged and shook your head slightly. “If I can’t do that then what am I?”

“A person who is trying their best. You don’t always have to be everyone’s hero. You don’t have to take responsibility for everyone, that’s too much to expect of anyone. It’s not your responsibility to save everyone because you can’t. But you’ve saved so many people that would’ve died if you weren’t there. You are so important, but you have to stay alive to help more people.”

You took a shaky breath. “Those people were going to die no matter what,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Bucky. Your chest tightened again and you felt sick. “Oh my God,” you said, the acceptance of the fact brought on a new wave of emotions as your knees felt weak.

Bucky pulled you back into his chest again, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “It’s not your fault, y/n.”

“Then why does it hurt so much?” you sobbed against his chest.

“Because you have a good heart.”

You shook your head against his chest. “I don’t want one if it means it’s going to hurt this much.”

“It’s okay, y/n. It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.”

“Please make it stop. I don’t want it to hurt anymore.”

Bucky felt tears sting his own eyes at your pain, holding you tighter against him. He cleared his throat before saying “I can’t make it go away. But I’m here to hold you and do everything I can to make it better. I’m not going anywhere y/n.”

He held you against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

--------

taglist: @buckys2thicc @babydaddy-buckybarnes @broadwaybabe18 @sup--ernova @fierylibraa @barnesplums @thatfangirl42 @abitgryffindorky @bucks-bunny @peggycarter-steverogers @buckys-blue-eyes @mardema @freigeistundanderes @strawberrimae @im-sick-of-failing

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Main Masterlist

[an-annyeoing-writer]

BTS: Avatar!AU Headcanons

Jin - Earth Kingdom 

He had been born in an aristocratic family, and it showed. He didn’t possess powers, but it didn’t make him any less important in the society. He grew up receiving the best education; but, while trying to always think out of the box, he wished to know what’d be the best way to stop the war. It brought his interest to politics.

He came to Omashu as just a scholar; he realized that the city’s libraries hid the knowledge he certainly needed to become a politician or advisor. Secrets and facts that people usually didn’t come across, details of history that set a new light upon the events of the past decades. But there was always something wrong, things would never fall into place too easily, too many lies had been told to be sure of anything. It took him a long time before he put all of these together, drawing a picture that made the most sense.

When Omashu was taken over by the Fire Nation, Jin, like other scholars, have been put under strict control of the oppressors, and made to only work in favor of the Nation. But the more truths he shared, the more apparent it became, that no one was, actually, interested in truth, and that propaganda just sold better. It was one night that a secret agent of the Fire Nation approached him, and asked him to tell the full story, with everything that Jin actually managed to confirm.

Suga - Fire Nation

Although attending a normal school like any commoner would, Yoongi spent a lot of time learning more about himself and about what surrounded him. To a normal person, what happens in the war, stays in the war; but he knew that far away, around the borders, there are things happening that couldn’t be dismissed. 

He was a mage, but he struggled controlling his powers from the moment they showed. For all the times he accidentally hurt people - or himself - while only learning how to use them, he decided to not use them anymore at all. He instead decided to focus on himself, on the world surrounding him, on things that maybe, just maybe, he could have some impact over.

He joined the army for the sake of finding out what’s the world like. But it terrified him, and changed his entire perception of the world - the things Fire Nation had done made him ashamed of his own origins. So he became a deserter, a sorrowful soul wandering through the grounds of the Earth Kingdom.

J-Hope - Water Tribe

The little sunshine grew up in a small village; as a water bender, he wanted to use his powers to help people, not to fight. He became a healer, wishing to make the world around him a better place, at the same time knowing that further away, a war is killing people. 

He never wanted to become a soldier, but he had a feeling that, eventually, the fate would bring him there. War was hell, he confirmed sooner than he would like, seeing people die around him in the first few days he arrived. The things he was painfully aware of became his own reality.

Hoseok swore to himself to keep the fear and sadness at bay, and only share the best with the people around, comforting the ones he approached - certain that his own feelings didn’t matter, if that sacrifice could help others hold onto life a while longer. Unwittingly destroying his heart with emotions that he muffled, but confident that it’s for the best. Certainly, the war would eventually come to an end... right?

RM - Earth Kingdom

He came from a small village suffering from the Fire Nation’s oppression. Although the villagers lived a life rather calm and peaceful, he knew that things are not as they should be. Everyone hated the Fire Nation for a reason. Despite lack of powers and fighting skill, he wanted to riot. 

It was that one evening - nothing really happened, yet, his emotions were about to overflow with hate, and he almost threw himself at a sergeant. But a soldier of the Fire Nation calmly approached him and told him that he won’t win. There was no resent in that statement - just a calm reminder that if he fights alone, he won’t achieve anything. The soldier secretly told him that there may be a group of rebels gathering somewhere up the north, and if he wants to fight for his country’s freedom, that’s his only way to go. 

Namjoon didn’t believe him at first, but as the time passed, had he come to realization, that people weren’t bad just because they were foreign, and with enough trust and honesty, everyone could finally get to cooperate, because the war served no one, not even the Fire Nation itself.

Jimin - Water Tribe

Jimin, simiarly to Hoseok, never wanted to be a part of the war, while wanting to help people, as well as just live a life of its own - he wanted to see the big world, know more, become a real water mage. He was unsatisfied with the levels of magic schooling that his village offered, so he would always sneak away to practice on his own, day and night long.

He was far outside his village when the Fire Nation struck, and it soon became obvious that there would be nothing for him to go back to, especially when he found out that water mages were being targeted. He had to run - he knew it would be a long trip, and he would never see his family again. But he had no other choice.

Exhausted and on the verge of death, but finally finding the solid grounds of the Earth Kingdom, he came across another lonely soul. A certain former Fire Nation’s soldier, on runaway as well, also lost and unsure as to how to live the life so different from what it used to be. So they decided to travel together - looking for a place that they would feel safe at, even though there was no such place in sight for them just yet.

V - Air Nomads

Everyone thought that all the air nomads had been killed; but it’s pretty much impossible to kill all the people of a nation, and hence why Taehyung and his family grew in a small village, far away from the war, not knowing much about what was happening in the outside world, but that was exactly how they survived that long. And to add to it, Taetae was born as an air bender.

But Taehyung wanted to travel; not knowing what the world was like, it seemed like an innocent adventure. And all of his imaginations have been crushed the moment he came across a group of rebels. He thought they’re hostile at first - they didn’t trust him, asked him questions. He soon realized, they’re just as scared as he is - thinking each other may be the enemy. So he decided to let his guards down and let them do whatever was needed, as to prove his innocence and lack of malicious intents. It was on the third night of sitting tied down in the back of their camp, that some people appeared, and he was approached by who seemed to be one of the leaders of the grouping - a man without powers, yet brave and charismatic. 

The leader’s name was Namjoon, and he introduced Taehyung to the things happening in the world as they spoke. He withdrew himself from speaking too much, though, seeing as the boy struggled taking in the harsh reality. He advised Taehyung to find a way back home and never try to leave again. But Taehyung knew, that it would not solve any problems, and he didn’t have the heart to do it - so he decided to join the rebels, although it was certainly not an easy choice.

Jungkook - Fire Nation

Although his entire life had he spent in a good family, obeying all the rules and achieving the education everyone expected from him… There was a fire in his soul that he couldn’t dull out. The Fire Nation had been so profound on control and using the powers only when perfecting them, but there was a calling in his heart that made Jungkook feel like he just simply didn’t belong there.

That’s how, with enough persistence, he found a way to do things that other people didn’t - he became a secret agent of the Fire Nation, finally enabling him to use his power in ways that normally wouldn’t be found acceptable. He didn’t want to act otherwise - he became a violent spirit, and when the opportunity to fight arose, he didn’t hesitate before accepting the task. That’s how he became a part of the forces taking over the great city of Omashu.

However, the more powerful he became, the lonelier and more lost he felt. His conscience wouldn’t let him free, and he just wanted to know, what was he missing out on? Why did the things he’d been taught his whole life simply lose their meaning when he started being honest with himself? So he found a scholar of Omashu, one person who somehow just got his trust - and he decided to ask him what the world really was like, hoping to find wisdoms that would help him cure his soul.