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getsusun · 1 year ago

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There is silence, there is cold.

0.5 whump points out of ten. A little more than an eight hundred of years before main Bleach storyline.

It takes Naumi almost two weeks to require his zanpakuto actually to be present in shinigami’s inner world. Koigetsu can’t say that he is surprised. He also can’t say that he anticipated the call. Koigetsu returned to his shinigami, of course, not like there was a lot of choice. Things were already tense between them, and now, after…

white pillars / scorching sun / hands tied up / pain / humiliation / hot breath on his neck

Koigetsu shuddered and forcefully stopped this line of thoughts. While his back was healing, although Koigetsu could already feel that it would scar badly and that he was in for a long time of movements restricted by pain, it was not the blade of sword that made the deepest wounds. And these wounds were more on the souls than on the body. Koigetsu took a deep breath and tried to relax his mind.

He was standing on the top of one of the thousands of mirrors filling in Naumi’s inner world. Everything around was familiar to Koigetsu, the scenery he had spend all his time before they with Naumi mastered manifestation, and most of the time before zanpakuto spirit himself learned to materialize without help of his master. The cloudy darkness of endless space – was it really not that dark before, was it barely of light shade of gray? - and, of course, the mirrors.

A long, long time before Koigetsu loved them. The mirrors, all of different colors, could work as windows into the real world as much as in Naumi’s memories and thoughts, allowing Koigetsu to accompany his shinigami in everyday’s life with ease. Naumi himself, when visiting his inner world, could use the mirrors as a tool to master his emotions, to understand himself.

Naumi barely did.

Now, however, Koigetsu rarely caught a glimpse of image in the dark depths of the mirrors. They never reflected zanpakuto spirit fully, usually showing him a blurry humanoid shape instead. Now, when almost all his body was covered with cloth, Koigetsu couldn’t see more than a hint of movement. He prefers not to look into the mirrors much anymore.

While the mirrors varied in sizes, from small ones, barely of child’s height, to the large ones, ten times higher than Koigetsu was, and some wide enough to reflect a whole street, the one detail all of them had in common. They had narrow edges, not even flat ones – tapering into sharp blade-like lines.

When Koigetsu only started to be aware of his existence, when he first realized that he had a body, legs to walk and eyes to see, these edges were like streets for him. He had no footwear then, also no long sleeves and collar, and he felt light enough, like a feather, so he could step on sharp upper edges of mirrors and walk on them. He could sit on them, lay down, do whatever he wanted.

Koigetsu remembers quite clearly when did it changed. Well, may be not exactly the date – the year or even the decade, he still had difficulties tracking the passage of time. But Koigetsu remembered that it was soon after he mastered the trick of helping Naumi with manifestation. His shinigami was happy. Naumi was still in Academy then, just a student, but as a Kuchiki he got separate room, and Koigetsu had spent a lot of time in this room. Koigetsu was happy to be with his master, even if already not all Naumi’s choices of activities were quite… Pleasant. But it was enough that Naumi was enjoying himself.

That was what Koigetsu said to himself then, and that was what he thought he believed. But one night after returning to Naumi’s inner world a single misstep left Koigetsu with a deep wound on the sole of his foot. It was sudden and scary feeling, even if Koigetsu already knew pain. He, however, never before had cut wounds not from training with Naumi, and at that time wound from Naumi’s sword never hurt and never stayed for long. There was also rarely blood shed, at least more than a couple of drops of it.

The cut on Koigetsu’s foot stayed and scarred. He became more careful after, always protecting points of contact with sharp edges with additional layer of reitsu, and one day this protection just stayed, transformed into a pair of soft black boots. At that time Koigetsu was satisfied that at least Naumi was not affected by the strange behavior of mirrors. Also, with Koigetsu spending more time in manifested state, having a footwear was convenient.

Over the last hundred years Naumi’s inner world became a dark, lonely place. Koigetsu often contemplated on how it was his own fault. Zanpakuto should take care of their wielders, should support and help them to grow and master their powers. What had Koigetsu done wrong? Why everything seemed to became just worse and worse?

Strangely, Naumi didn’t actually seemed unhappy. Koigetsu felt him being angry – pretty often, on his elders, and on his – well, at this point their, considering how much paperwork Koigetsu had done over the last decades – Captain, and on Koigetsu himself. Bored. Joyful and satisfied, lately more often than not by Koigetsu’s expense, but… It still counted, right?

It is not like Koigetsu could actually die. Probably. Even with bankai broken – yes, Koigetsu was scared, and it was horrible and painful and wrong, but Koigetsu still could fight. Mostly. ...Good exercise in using his right arm instead of left one?

Koigetsu shuddered again and tucked his aching elbow closer to his chest. No, he could try to come up with any number of reasons, but the truth was that broken bankai was a big thing. A big bad thing which should never had happened.

Was it always that cold in here?

Lately Koigetsu sometimes felt a strange duality of his thoughts. One half of his mind diminished justified any tortures and cruelties Naumi performed, over his zanpakuto spirit and over others. The other half… The other half, which became stronger and stronger with every hit and every insult and each control collar being fastened on Koigetsu’s neck, was thinking about how it was not right. How it was not right for Naumi to be like that with his own soul, and – at the same time – how it was not right for Koigetsu to blame himself for all of it.

How it was wrong that Koigetsu loved being alone while manifested more and more. Away from his master. He shouldn’t be capable of being happy away from Naumi, and still. Somehow. He was.

Was it always that… Quiet?

Koigetsu frowned. He hadn’t paid attention before, but it was eerily quiet. It is not like Naumi’s inner world was a loud place, no, but there was always a peaceful hum of mirrors, and – and there were always echoes of Naumi’s thoughts, barely audible, not clear enough to distinguish words, but here, a background noise of emotions.

There was nothing now. Koigetsu could hear only his own breathing – a previously irritating, but lately calming habit of his, which he got after staying materialized for too long (after drinking tea with Juushiro, his mind suggests, but Koigetsu pushes that thought away). His breathing, occasional rustle of clothes, heartbeat becoming louder and louder with every passing second.

Koigetsu closed eyes and concentrated. The bond between him and Naumi was here, as it always was, but many years – decades – had passed since their bond was a thick and springy flow of energy. Now it is stretched to its limits. One moment it is barely perceptible, only the small fracture of reitsu from Naumi transmitting, the other moment – ready to burst from the volume of energy being drained out of Koigetsu. Koigetsu learned a lot about how to balance their bond, mostly through trial and error, and for a long time he was managing fine – they could fight, Naumi used shikai without thinking, they even had bankai, for hell’s sake!

Not anymore, apparently. Both about balancing and bankai.

The bond is weak, but it is here, and Koigetsu reaches out for Naumi, calls him – but there is nothing. A cold and rigid nothing, which is somehow worse than having energy drained out of Koigetsu.

- Master?

Koigetsu calls softly, long time of being used to speak seldom and quietly forcing his voice down. He feels how the bond shifts, reacting on his voice reaching to Naumi, and his shinigami should be able to sense that, but there is nothing, no spark of attention, not even an annoyed mental shrug. Emptiness.

Koigetsu spends a long time calling for Naumi. The time in inner world flows strangely, and what felt like days – weeks, even – could have been both hours and months in the real world. Koigetsu goes through negative half of spectrum of emotions, from anger to fear, from despair to denial. His throat aches, and it should be – must be – a fantom pain, because Koigetsu does not have a body now, is not manifested, but it still hurts.

Long, long time later Koigetsu not quite gives up, but more like spends all energy he had, mental and physical. He listens to the quiet of Naumi’s inner world for a while, surrounded by dark mirrors, and than whispers, softly, but with more power to break through the invisible shield to his master than he ever had.

- Can you hear me, Naumi?

Koigetsu does not care how furious could become Naumi after being called by name. Naumi may be his master, his wielder, but Koigetsu is also half of his soul, and even if he failed as a zanpakuto spirit, his shinigami should be still able to hear him.

Koigetsu waits. Calls. Waits and calls. But there is nothing.

Koigetsu feels like crying. But Naumi does not wants him to cry, and after dying from hunger, alone, in the stone pit Koigetsu really can’t anymore. But his eyes burn, and the scars in form of words on his wrists burn, and his back feels raw, like if the skin just melted, leaving inflamed flash exposed. The last one is not as far away from truth as Koigetsu would have liked. Yes, the pain lessened after Juushiro treated the wounds on his back, but it was still bad.

Koigetsu feels like a ruin. Wreck of a sword, like one of the debris that scattered on the earth when his bankai was broken. Koigetsu himself was broken, it seems, because what zanpakuto spirit he is, if he can’t even speak to his wielder anymore?

It takes a long time for the feeling of self-hate to stop being the strongest one. Even longer for sadness to settle into a calm shield around Koigetsu’s mind. But if he has something now, then it is time. A lot of time of being alone in the quiet darkness.

The darkness seems to become thicker, eating up even the sounds Koigetsu himself makes. At some point he starts speaking again, this time not to Naumi, to noone in particular. Quote poems from his memory, chapters from books he read. Koigetsu remembered a lot.

His voice dies down, and finally Koigetsu feels some kind of peace. He is getting sleepy, actually. Too tired to think, too tired to feel anything. Koigetsu is still standing on the mirror – not the same one, he may have moved around a little, trying to calm his thoughts. He is standing, perfectly balancing with the help of reflexes developed over the decades, but at one moment it seems easier to make one step ahead and just float in the empty darkness. Not much control and energy is required for that, and Koigetsu feels himself slipping into the sleep.

He wakes up – how long was he asleep? Does it matter? - and he is not floating, but falling down into the void, and it should bother him, but for some reason it does not. It is hard to think, and Koigetsu still wants to sleep – now even more than before, so he closes his eyes again. Not much changes.

#whumptober2023 #no.7 #“Can you hear me?”#bleach #fic #emotional whump #getsu #naumi kuchiki #old man zangetsu - not yet old and not yet zangetsu but still #writing_getsu #so um i consider it whump #a very light whump #if you think you see *some* parallels with story of Koga and Muramasa - yes you do #in my defense most of the plot i created before watching the arc of zanpakuto rebellion #and it was unexpected for me that there were suddenly a lot of similarities #i am not really attentive so for a long time i even thought Koga to be born as a Kuchiki #(yes i am that unattentive)#(what do you mean he has a Kuchiki wife)#So i had the idea of Getsu being some kind of grand-grand-..-uncle level of relative to Muramasa #And the whole story of Kuchiki sometimes having really strange shinigami&zanpakuto relations in their clan #but uhhh #canon said no :(#im contemplating ignoring it though #or making Koga a descendant of Naumi's uncle or aunt #not the main Kuchiki branch so he was able to also kinda marry in #it would have made Kuchiki's relations with Getsu much more dramatic #like: “there is another one. oh god. lets just kill him so we won't have a lot of problems later”#here may be the question of where Getsu was during initial Koga's time?#(oh wow thats a lot of tags)#well i can't answer yet but i do have a number of reasons for Getsu to not be around any bleach plotline in the past

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gremlin-girly · 29 days ago

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Forget-me-not Blues

Ask and ye shall recieve! Buckle up buttercups, this is my first Soulmate AU.

Banner by me and the images were sourced from Pinterest (credit to the OG pics), made in Canva

Dividers by: @/sweetmelodygraphics

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, ANGST/WHUMP, Soulmate Mate Mark AU!, mentions of death., mentions of torture, right person wrong time, 2nd and 3rd person P.O.V, petnames (doll)

I’m leaving out some tags so I don’t go spoiling the plot so please read at your own risk!

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated (or put through AI)

A/N: I cut a huge chunk about Soulmate AU context at the beginning because it felt unnecessary. It's just a world where word/phrase of the soulmate's is written on them; it's not always the first thing they say to a person :)

More Author’s Notes are at the end of this fic so if you want to know more about the flowers and some thoughts I had whilst writing this, please go take a peek! This has been a labour of love.

Summary: A story about finding and losing soulmates to the test of time.

Word count: 4.2k

Navigation | The Bucky Barnes Collection

1942

Your family had owned a flower stand for as long as you could remember. Ever since you could stand on your own two feet your father put you to work handing out daisies to every woman, young or old, that passed by just to put a smile on their face.

Adorned with roses, daisies, poppies and more, the colourful stall had always been popular. Your father expertly wrapped combinations of flowers in old newspapers until the war began. He believed it was bad luck to wrap gifts in bad news.

When your father had been called to return to service, he had entrusted the stall to you. The old women who’d lost husbands and sons in the war would often buy a poppy or three, and any of the soldiers on a short stay would always buy a dozen or so roses for all of the dames.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was one of your best customers. Bucky was always smiling, flirting and generally schmoozing his way by, often with a battered Steve Rogers in tow. Bucky being the big romantic he was liked roses, of course, and would frequently stop by your stall on his way home from work.

“Hey doll,” Bucky grinned, leaning against your display table.

You couldn’t help but smile back. The playful air he had around him was infectious and you half wished you could find a soul mate like him. Or wished you could just have him.

“Afternoon Buck,” You fluff up a pile of pink roses. Despite the trying times, business was booming. A lot of dates, a lot of weddings and a lot of funerals. “Want the usual?”

Bucky plucks up a rose and twirls it in his fingers before raising it to his nose and inhaling the gentle, sweet scent. His grin grows wider, his boyish charm shining through with the glimmer of mischief in his blue eyes and the dirt on his cheeks from a long day at work.

You know what’s coming next.

“No, Bucky.” You say airily, smiling at him as you move to the next pile of roses on the stall. Bucky gapes at you.

“Please, doll. One dance - that’s all ’m askin’!”

It’s now the sixth time he’s asked you and each time he looks like a kicked puppy when you tell him no.

“Yes but one dance turns into two, then three.” You tease, moving around the stall to face him, plucking the rose from his fingers and leaning close. “And then you’ll be dancing with a new dame next week anyway. I’m just cutting out the middle man. Plenty of men like you come by my stall, James.”

You turn away from him with a short shrug, placing the pink rose back into it’s correct pile before moving to a new carefully packed crate of flowers that need unpacking.

“What if I’m not the man you think I am?” Bucky counters, following after you. “Maybe I’m terrible at dancing.”

Chuckling you turn to face him, ready to spout another weak excuse to not go with him, when one of your white roses is stuffed under your nose. Raising an eyebrow you look over at Bucky, who’s smirking at you.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let me take you dancing sometime, I promise to make it worth your while.”

You feel heat crawl up your face as you start to laugh. “Why are you introducing yourself to me?”

“Because,” Bucky shrugs, the twinkle in his eyes becoming a bright sparkle now that you’re laughing. “I’m not the man you think I am. And life’s too short, doll. I’d like to spend at least one night of my life dancin’ with you.”

How were you going to argue with that?

But something seemed… strange. When you’d say no, usually he’d banter with you a bit more and ask about your dad, you’d ask after his mom, his sister and Steve before he’d trot on his merry little way with you gazing after him.

Today, Bucky was insistent but behind his eyes was a sadness you hadn’t seen before. Your heart strings tugged, something within you screamed at you to say yes like you had desperately wanted to all those times before. No more imagining what it would feel like to have his hands in yours as you twirled and danced well into the night.

“Sure,” you sigh after a few moments, trying not to seem too eager. Bucky beams at you so brightly anyone else would think you’ve hung the moon and hands you your white rose with a mocking bow.

“One dance.” You add firmly, heart fluttering as your fingers brush his when you pluck the rose from him.

Bucky puts his hand on his heart, beginning to walk backwards. As he passes your stall he stuffs a dollar into your change jar and bats his eyelashes innocently at you.

You shake your head with a grin, watching him go. There was an electric charge all around you and you felt excited for your long-dreamed-of date with one Bucky Barnes.

“I only need one dance to make you fall in love with me, doll!” He continues walking backwards, narrowly avoiding other New Yorkers, but his eyes never leave yours. “I’ll pick you up at seven!”

Dancing with Bucky was exactly how you imagined it would be; your feet barely touched the ground as he spun and lifted you. You felt lighter than air as you looked down at Bucky's grinning face, eyes sparkling with joy as he held you close. One dance quickly turned to three.

After the third, Bucky led you to a nearby table.

"So much for one dance." Bucky teases lightly, his hand still lightly holding your waist. You're thankful your flushed cheeks hide your embarrassment but you're smiling regardless. Before he can ask you what drink he can get you, We'll Meet Again begins to crackle over the speaker and you drag him back to the dance floor.

"Hey, shouldn't I be leading doll?" He jokes, hands immediately encompassing your hips once you'd found a space to sway in.

"Hush," You murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I like this song."

Bucky smiles down at you and says nothing further until the song finishes. You both mimic the other, swaying to the music and gently singing along as you gaze at eachother.

"I should walk you home doll." Bucky says quietly once the song finishes. You feel a little light-headed and breathless, even though you'd only been swaying and you notice that Bucky's hands are still on your waist.

"O-okay." You swallow. If Soulmates didn't exist, you'd be kissing him right about now. "I know a short-cut."

"This," Bucky looked up as the wrought iron fence. "Is a short-cut?"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" You grin back at him as you crawl through a gap in the fence. "Come on Sarge, it's not far I promise."

Bucky sighs with a smile, pulling his dress pants up so they don't rip at the knees when he crawls through the gap after you. You take his hand and lead him blindly through the dark park, the both of you stumbling and giggling like teenagers, until you reach a dirtpath leading through a small thatch of trees to a clearing. The light of the moon illuminates the clearing into a sea of blue. Forget-me-nots are clustered together in one large group in the clearing; thousands upon thousands of tiny blue flowers that disappear to black when the moon vanishes again behind a cloud.

"Wow," Bucky breathes. "You've been holdin' out on me, doll. If I knew this was here, I'd have taken you on a romantic picnic instead of dancin'."

“Yeah, I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues,” you sigh wistfully, looking over at Bucky's face.

“Well doll, forget me not.” He punctuates each word with a sad smile.

What should be a joyous moment filled with love, happiness and a rainbow of technicolour is soured by the harsh reality that Bucky wouldn't be staying in New York any longer. You shouldn't be too surprised, you knew he got drafted but you can see it in his eyes, the utter sadness of your situation. You can't even enjoy finding your soulmate in peace.

“You’ve got orders.” You can barely eke the words out of your closing throat.

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly and looking at your entwined hands. “Got my letter the other day. England."

You breathe out, long and slow, your nose becoming more blocked as more tears stream down your face and your throat burns with unvoiced sobs. It was unfair. So, so unfair.

"I'll write to you everyday." He promises, squeezing your hand back. "I'll come back and visit every chance I can get until this war is over. And then-"

“I could never forget you James Buchanan Barnes. Never.“ You say firmly, gazing over at him and squeezing his hand hard.

You cut him off with a quick kiss that doesn't even begin to convey how happy you are to have found him, trying to protect your heart from more hurt that undoubtedly will come.

"Save it for your letters," You tease softly, sniffing away tears. "I want something to look forward to while I wait."

Bucky grins and pecks your lips back. "You got it, doll."

You both stay on that log until the early hours, basking in each other's presence before Bucky was deployed to England the next afternoon. The voids left in your hearts when you separated were almost too much to bare but when you were safely home, and Bucky tucked away on a boat, you both immediately began to work on your letters to each other.

Being posted in England isn't too bad to begin with. In fact, Bucky thinks that his letters are too boring but he doesn't want to fill the letters with how much he misses you or how he wishes he could be with you instead; he knows you know it too, and it doesn't make it hurt any less.

When he's sent to Europe, suddenly those boring, mundane letters are a God-send. One of your letters contained a good Iuck charm, courtesy of your small slice of blue paradise ; a single pressed forger-me-not into a piece of card with a lipstick stain of your lips on the reverse. Bucky kept the piece in his left breast pocket, just over his heart, keeping the thought of you near wherever he went.

The first thing he does after Steve rescues him is write you.

He leaves out the details but tells you not to worry, he'll be home soon. Tell Mom and Rebecca not to worry too.

Days later, when he's lying in the snow bleeding from the Stump that was his left arm, he wonders if it was all worth it. Your lucky charm had disappeared somewhere during the fall and Bucky sobbed at the thought that not only had he lost his arm but a piece of you too. Delirious with blood loss, he imagined your face in the cold comfort of the snow, smiling playfully like you always did, kissing him so tenderly like you had on your date all those moons ago. He couldn't leave you without a soulmate.

Hearing approaching footsteps crunching in the snow, Bucky screamed for help, hoping, praying that it was Steve.

It wasn't.

Turns out, HYDRA don't like it when their science experiments escape and despite vowing to escape a second time once he's healed, it's nigh impossible. And not without consequence.

Bucky's vow quickly becomes to always remember you instead when he's strapped to the electric chair, biting on his tongue so hard he draws blood. The more his brain cooks in the chair, the more torture he's subjected to, the more your face blurs in his mind's eye. It kills him, little by little, knowing you're fading from his memory but he still tries to remember your face. He still hopes, dreams and thinks of you. Would you remember him? Would you recognise him if he returned from this hell on Earth?

What breaks him is not the twenty-seven long years of being thawed and unthawed, tortured and electrocuted. It's the one rainy day where his heart hurts so badly, he screams until he can't any longer. It's the day his blurred soulmate's face is torn from his soul and leaves him all alone in the cruellest, darkest place imaginable.

The premature death of Bucky Barnes' soulmate caused the birth of the Winter Soldier after twenty-seven gruelling years.

How could you suffer on knowing you would never see your one true love again? His brain and heart couldn't win out after that.

Present Day

Museums were Bucky’s favourite places to be on his days off. There was something comforting about the silence and the relics of human history, the evolution and study of animals, rocks and bones and the celebration of human artistry that wasn’t as overwhelming as the Internet. The Internet was faster, sure, but museums had everything in one neat place and no two museums were the same.

He and Steve had spent countless days of their childhood visiting the Natural History Museum and then when he'd finally broken away from HYDRA, he'd visited every museum he could find to learn about himself and the developments after the war that he'd missed.

Today, though, Bucky had decided to take a longer wander through the galleries. It was easy to walk through and ignore the paintings until something caught your eye but Bucky was insistent that he would stop at every painting today and perhaps try to see what Steve sees.

It wasn't with what she was wearing or how she looked but something just didn't seem right. Bucky knew he should probably investigate but dammit it was his day off; he deserved some peace and quiet.

The galleries aren’t busy, as usual. A few old couples taking a wander through, a gaggle of tourists taking photos and an art student or two studying brush strokes of portraits. However, in a small alcove surrounded by paintings of flowers and woodland, sat a woman who looked entirely out of place.

The woman is still there when he makes it to the alcove and the pull from his chest is unbearable now. He was wrong before when he'd thought that she didn't seem right; she was perfect. He couldn't remember when he'd last seen someone so beautiful that she looked like a rare painting come to life. Nervous didn't begin to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. There was an unfathomable joy coupled with anxiety and he wished he kept gum in his leather jacket right now.

The hair on Bucky’s arm and neck stand on end, his heart rate sky rocketing. He’d heard that phrase before.

“I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues.” The woman sighs dreamily, gazing at the painting before her.

Bucky's caught off guard when she turns to look over at him, her eyes catching his for a small respite and he almost folds like a deck chair. The air is sucked out of Bucky’s lungs so quickly he can barely process it and he feels faint, no dizzy, from just looking at her properly. Her eyes are wide with surprise but there's a sliver of playfulness that hides within them and whatever ever was nagging at him earlier has now blossomed into a crackling hearth of building adoration that was vaguely familiar somehow.

“What did you say?”

Bucky's eyes drop to her neck, where a tiny blue flowers pendant sits on a delicate silver chain. It's delicate but sweet, an almost perfect compliment to her being.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Talking to myself.” The stranger gives him a sheepish smile and turns back to the painting. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

For some odd reason, Bucky feels a wave of melancholy. He can't place why when there's a stunning woman in front of him.

Bucky tears his eyes from her and looks at the painting; two blurred figures dancing amongst a sea of blue flowers, similar to the necklace she wears. The male figure is holding the female figure's hand as her dress billows and blends into the flowers. Although they don't have faces, it's clear these figures are happy and in love.

"Does it make you feel sad?" The woman asks suddenly. Bucky glances over to see that her expression has changed to one of longing.

"-they look happy." She finishes, looking over with a wry smile. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so depressing to a stranger."

"I... yeah. Even though-"

"I like your necklace."

Bucky smiles and shifts on his feet. He wants to say something more, tell her that it's fine, but instead he dumbly states;

He regrets it as soon as he says it and looks to his feet. Didn't this used to be easy? Hadn't he charmed women both as Bucky and the Winter Soldier?

"Oh! This?" She fiddles with the pendant between her thumb and fore finger, inspecting it gently. She doesn't seem bothered by the awkward compliment. "I just like forget-me-nots."

“Why forget-me-nots?” He asks suddenly.

Forget-me-nots.

Something in his mind flashes with recognition.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you like them?”

The woman pauses and scratches her face thoughtfully, as if trying to place when she began loving the tiny flower. "I… don’t know, actually. I just always have.”

Bucky starts to smile wider. He feels like himself, how he used to be back in the 30s. Even though there's something about her that makes him suffer this almost recognition, like she’s a word stuck on the tip of his tongue, he can't deny the joy and warmth he feels in her presence and he can't help but want keep speaking with her.

She offers Bucky a shrug. “I guess they’re pretty? Teeny, tiny little things but the colour?” She gives Bucky an impressive smile but then it falters for a moment as she catches his eyes again, really looking at them this time. “Wow. Your eyes are some shade of blue.”

“Thanks.” He clears his throat and tries for nonchalance. "Do you... come here often?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he cringes, scrunching his face with disgusted embarrassment. So much for feeling like himself. Was flirting always so hard?

"Ugh. Sorry that was.... oh God." Bucky runs a hand down his face as the woman laughs.

“It’s alright and to answer, no - I don't. Today I just, well, it sounds stupid. But today I just really wanted to come here. I usually just walk straight past but I’m glad I did.” The flirtatious smirk she gives Bucky makes his knees wobble and he has to shift his weight to hide it.

"You probably already know why they’re called forget-me-nots.”

Bucky says, opting to try to sound knowledgeable instead of cool. Maybe that would be a better play. He doesn't know what's gotten into him. He's usually calm and collected. However, his heart is beating so hard he's scared it may fall right out of his chest.

Bucky’s lip twitch into a smirk and the woman pats the empty space next to her, shuffling over slightly to make space for Bucky. His knee knocks hers and he gives a quiet, embarrassed apology before clearing his throat to recite what he'd been told.

“I do but tell me anyway.”

He trails but the woman is transfixed on his face.

“They used to be given to soldiers going off to war by their lovers.” He says. “I don’t remember who told me but…”

"Sorry." Bucky scrunches his nose and smiles. "I got lost for a moment."

"At least you came back." The woman smiles in return. She looks back towards the painting again. Bucky tells himself that it’s out of old observational habits that he watches her face; how her eyes look longingly at the dancing couple of the painting, the sweet curve of her lips as she smiles.

"Do you think they were soulmates?"

"I think they're two people who love each other." Bucky says cautiously and when the woman raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs sheepishly, waving his left arm. "Sorry I... I don't have one. The writing must have been on my left arm and I can't remember what it said. I'm a little jaded, unfortunately."

She frowns and points to his arm. "Your arm looks fine to me."

Bucky snorts and smiles sheepishly at her. “It’s a…. um, prosthetic. I don’t have any words anywhere else so they had to have been on my left arm. I should have been clearer."

“Oh.” The woman's face turns fire-engine red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me."

"Don't worry about it." Bucky shrugs it off with a chuckle before swiftly changing the subject. "What do you like about the painting?"

“I’d love to do that one day.” She says wistfully after a moment, nodding at the figures.

She laughs, no chuckle this time, a pure lilt of happiness that makes Bucky’s heart twist in his chest and he can’t help but smile a little wider. Flirting was a little bit like riding a bike, not that he’d been interested in flirting much since having his brain fried multiple times.

“Do what? Dance?” Bucky asks curiously, sensing an opportunity. “You can dance whenever you want. We can dance right here if you want, I’ll ask one of the guards for music.”

The woman glances over at him, biting back a smile and rolling her eyes playfully. “Riiiiiight. Sure."

"I mean it!" Bucky bolsters, hopping to his feet. "I-..."

He falters for a moment when he sees her grin; her challenge. Her eyes meet his, bright and sparkling. Whatever he feels he knows she feels it too. He offers his left arm to her, stiff and awkward as his face blooms red.

The woman snorts and laughs again but she takes hold of his gloved hand, rising to her feet.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let have this dance, I promise to make it worth your while.”

"Y/N. And just one." Her tone is firm but her glittering eyes betray the same excitement he feels. "What about music?"

"Heard they have music on phones nowadays, doll." Bucky quips, his free hand reaching for his phone in his back pocket. He doesn't notices she's raised a curious brow.

"Doll? That's a new one."

"I - oh..." Bucky grins sheepishly but before he can apologise, she stops him with a smile.

"I like it. Vintage."

Now it's Bucky's turn to snort. Who needed soulmates anyhow?

"Speaking of vintage." Bucky hits play on Vera Lynn's remastered classic.

"We'll Meet Again." She murmurs as Bucky's hands ghost along her waist. "Good choice."

"Thanks. Is this okay?"

"You're barely touching me." She giggles, wrists crossing behind his neck.

"Hey, I gotta make sure. Just follow my lead."

Vera Lynne's voice echoes around the alcove drawing curious peeks from other museum-goers but both Bucky and the woman in his arms couldn't care less as they swayed to the music. Y/N followed Bucky's footsteps as he guided her around the room with practices ease, poking fun at her lightly when she'd step on his feet accidentally.

An image rears its head in Bucky's mind's eye. There's a park, somewhere, with hundreds of forget-me-nots but he can't place the timeline. Did he go there as the Winter Soldier? Did he go there during the war? Was it a passing visit on a mission?

He knows he didn’t find it, someone showed him. Maybe Steve? Someone else? Did he see it once in a dream?

“You’re a good dancer.” Y/N whispers against his chest as the song draws to a close. Bucky is sure she can hear his heartbeat through his leather jacket now. “I don’t think I could ever forget this.”

“Well, doll... Forget me not.” He doesn’t know why he says it. It’s cheesy at best, terrible word play at worst.

But she halts, blinking up at him. The silence in the alcove is so loud a pin could drop.

It’s like a veil has lifted. The air shifts, Bucky can feel it now. That joy he buried earlier rose from the soles of his feet all the way up to his head. He felt like he was walking on air. He can see her eyes widen, further and further until their the size of dinnerplates, and there, almost within the depths of her soul; there's the flicker of recognition.

“What did you just say?”

It's a domino effect. Y/N's soul reaches for Bucky's as memories flood back; lifetimes of memories, experiences and pain binding their souls together in a dance that will last for eternity.

"It's you," He chuckles, still not quite believing his eyes. "It's really you."

The kiss they share is nothing like their first one. It's longer, more patient, relishing the electric feel of each other's lips for what feel like eons.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” You breathe, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I knew I wouldn’t forget you. And I knew you’d come back.”

That playful smile he'd grown to love all those decades ago makes a swift appearance on your face and reaches the lights of your eyes as you look up at him.

"Now, if I remember correctly, we have a few decades worth of catching up to do."

END

A/N1: Ready for the flower symbolism? None of this the roses were pink because they were pink roses bs

Forget-Me-Nots: were given to lovers when their gifter went away to war. Commonly associated with the phrase “Forget me not.” (Duh). But they are also representative of remembrance, memory, love, friendship, hope, and fidelity. Source here

The necklace is based on this one on Etsy that I adore

Pink roses: (The first rose Bucky picks up and you steal back) symbolise admiration, happiness and love.

White roses: (The second rose Bucky picks up and hands to you) represent Innocence, purity and loyalty. Bucky’s intentions are were true.

These also are used for fresh starts, so can also be used as Bucky “starting over” (like when he goofily re-introduces himself to you and in the modern day where his memory has been wiped).

A/N 2: Name of the Fic

Well, a multitude of reasons really.

1) forget-me-nots are hardy plants that always come back (hence why reader says it to Bucky). He has an awful habit of bouncing back bless him.

2) Bucky’s Eyes: Azure blue? But there’s something about little poetic in a forget-me-not Blue ;)

3) Blues: Bucky is a big fan of Jazz, and Blues although Blues came before jazz its debated heavily on whether it is a sub-genre of jazz or if its a genre all on its own. Blues songs tend to be romantic, sad and slow; which I think are key elements of Bucky and his story.

4) Their meaning: true love and faithfulness. Can’t have a romance without those right?

5) the utter irony of the fact that Bucky did actually completely forget her lmao

A/N 3: I heavily debated how to incorporate the words of the Soul Mark back into modern day. Originally I was going to leave it kinda open ended at the gallery because I couldn’t think of a way to get Bucky’s words in without them seeming forced. But when I was doing a third edit of this, I realised they could end up having a haphazard date; which ended up as a replay of the 40s just so their souls could greet eachother again in the same place bc I am nothing if not a romantic at heart. I ended up scrapping that in favour of the museum alcove and having them recreate their "first date" there with the paintings acting as the woodland this time because I was struggling with dialogue and bridging the two - but I think it turned out pretty romantic!!!

This was my first time writing a Soulmate AU and I quite enjoyed myself! But I would like some feedback, and obviously all comments are welcome! It’s not to say I’m not proud of my other work on here but this story has been brewing for months (and I’m actually really happy that it won the WIP poll).

I wholly appreciate any comments or asks on this work!! I don’t quite think I’m ready to let it go yet 🥹 so much so that even though there's not a part 2 in the works, there's another fic in the same AU I'm working on ;)

Taglist

Add yourself to my taglist here

@irishhappiness | @awkwardgiraffe726

#gremlin girly #gremlin girly writes #fluff #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky mcu #bucky barnes #sebastian stan characters #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes

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the-teufort-nine · 2 months ago

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My TF2 Fic Rec List [ Fanfics I've Read That You Should Too]

*cracks knuckles* right, let's get started! X Reader fics are not included bc I already did a list of them for an ask. Mind the tags and ratings, as always. I'll add to this as I collect more, but its decently long as is

Symbol Key:

** = Incomplete

~~ = Personal favourite

++ = Under 10k

SpeedingBullet:

~~Running Blind by TheTriggeredHappy

(( Scout's eyes are badly damaged in battle and for some reason, Medic's gun can't fix him. Until they figure out how to heal Scout, he needs someone to look after him and keep him safe.

Sniper is given the job.

[3rd person limited, Scout's POV, some character development done on a whim] ))

The SpeedingBullet fanfic. If you like Scout X Sniper, and you haven't read this one yet, I don't know what to tell you. You are severely missing out on not only a great romance story, but also fantastic team dynamics. Also has an available Podfic!

++From a Hospital Bed by SlightlyLessThanAnon

(( Jeremy wakes up in the hospital, his brain struggling the find coherent thoughts as the world churns around him, in and out of consciousness.

He finds the team may care about him a little more than he thought they did. ))

Short but sweet. More whole team fluff than strictly SpeedingBullet. Very cute.

~~Golden Brown, as well as its sister fic, Take Me Out by Ali_Ker (Alina_Kerrin)

(( After seeing his co-worker in a new light, Scout is faced with unknown feelings and a new, distracting perspective on things. ))

This lovely author can be found here under the handle @alikerao3

Grouped these two together because they are they same story, but told from the perspectives of Scout and Sniper respectively. Definitely a bit of a heavier read, especially for anyone who has dealt with Catholic guilt or internalized homophobia, but my God is it worth it. Don't just read one thinking it isn't worth it to read the other fic. Read both. Also, check out the song that inspired the title.

~~Going Through The Motions by AussieBookworm

(( Working under RED can be repetitive at times - but nothing like this. After a curse is fired his way, Scout is forced to live through the same day over and over and over again. It should be easy for someone as perfect as Scout to break the curse, right? As long as he doesn't have to confront the things he's been feeling towards Sniper it should be a piece of cake! ))

Possibly my absolute favourite TF2 fic right now. Scout gets character development out the ass, Demo has a prominent, important role, and there's a plot twist so good it had me tweaking out. TW for Suicide as a method used to get out of a time loop. Absolutely incredible, and it needs more love.

Gills and Gunpowder by popkeeki

(( Monsters are becoming increasingly rare. Between getting pushed to the periphery of society or being targeted by traffickers, life is hard when you are not (entirely) human. Like many others, Scout tries to keep his true form a secret. It has never really been a problem. That is, until a nosy teammate catches him mid-swim. ))

SpeedingBullet Mermaid AU!! Good luck finding a fic with this premise that also reaches this level of quality.

**~~Pet by Anonymous

(( Sniper's terrified of losing the one person he has in his life. It turns out there's a convenient solution to that: just make sure he has no way out, and the rest will follow.

Scout wakes up in a van he knows all too well, loopy and hungover, and Sniper's waiting for him.

Or: Learning to live with claustrophobia in small spaces Or: Making the best of assisted living Or: You can’t outrun a fucking bullet ))

Are you like me? Do you enjoy Scout whump and Yandere!/Possessive Sniper? SpyDad? Do you want more of it in your life? If the answer is yes, than Pet is for you! No NSFW, just pure, delicious kidnapping and one-sided love.

General Fanfic Recommendations:

++Something's Up With Respawn by Camelot_taurus, Old Works (HarveyDangerfield)

(( Respawn starts to glitch, and the Administrator sets Engineer to work fixing it.

It doesn't take long for him to find out exactly what's going ))

Super funny, weird little oneshot. Basically, Respawn starts glitching and producing fucked up, Paperjam Dipper-esque clones of the Mercs.

++Mask Off by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout is sick. Really sick. 'If we can't get this fever under control it's the hospital or the morgue' sick, and Respawn can't help him this time. They'd already tried that. He's gotten so delirious he's fighting Medic every second he's awake, not really lucid enough to remember so much as his own name, much less that of any of the team. Medic is ready to put him under full sedation and try and work things out from there, but Spy has an idea. ))

Wholesome SpyDad fic. Spy actually acts like a dad for once, for his sick little bunny.

~~++Scout, Respond by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout wakes up in a dark, unknown place, with rocks bearing down on him and a spotty recollection as to how he ended up there in the first place. The only thing that keeps him sane is the voice of his team in his ear, telling him to talk, to breath, and, more than anything, to stay awake. ))

Scout gets trapped beneath a collapsed building, and receives comfort from his team over his headset while they race to dig him out. Super cute, definitely a must read, and I've done so more than once.

pick it all up (and start again) by bugbee

(( The clues had always been there, he had just never wanted to see them. Maybe neither of them had, instead content to deny the truth before their eyes for the rest of their days because it was better than confronting the alternative. Except Scout had died, and Spy wasn’t able to keep on pretending for his last moments. A part of Jeremy was glad for it, despite the simmering rage and betrayal and hurt. So when he tried to look God in the eye and tell Him that Tom Jones was his father… He couldn’t. Not really.

(Scout discusses his parentage with God, and stays dead for a little while longer. Well. A lot longer. On the plus side, he gets to attend his own funeral reception.) ))

An alternate take on Scout's death from the comics. Very Scout centric, obviously, and ends happily.

~~A Little Bird Told Me… by the_soup_specter

(( Medic learns a secret— something personal, powerful, big enough to cause a rift in the team of mercenaries that could tear two of them apart. And for once in his life… he’s not sure how to proceed.

With no better ideas, Medic decides to ask his fellow mercenaries for advice. But as dueling viewpoints begin to pile up, will he be able to make a decision before the team is changed forever? ))

Medic learns Spy is Scout's dad, and spills the beans. Everything turns out ok, but man the aftermath initially ain't pretty.

~~seven times he has to explain (and one time he doesn’t have to) by conner_is_alive

(( the trans scout obsession has me in a vice

also if i don’t vent my trans sadness i will literally rip a government building down brick by brick lmao ))

The fic that made me a trans Scout believer. If you're on the fence about that headcanon, maybe give this fic a read.

**~~Kith And Kin by BOREDGrace23

(( Mick never thought much of the BLU team. They were just clones, after all. Designed to be their opponents in a meaningless war.

That's why when he woke up, his vision blurry, his brain blistering from a headache like he'd just woken up from a hangover, and several burning questions about what had happened, he thought it was strange that they hadn't killed him already.

Or, BLU are clones and RED are decidedly not. They’re then forced to work together when their teams disappear. ))

If you like Emesis Blue, or horror in general, go read Kith And Kin. And when you finish, go give @boredgrace23 some love for such an incredible fic.

**++Der Junge by UpInFlamesWriting

(( Everyone on the team knows that Scout & Medic do not get along. They're like Sniper & Spy, except less bloodthirsty about it. Medic scares Scout, & Scout doesn't give Medic a reason to like him. When the two of them start being more than friendly all of a sudden, the team starts to worry, especially when it becomes obvious that Medic & Scout are keeping secrets from them. Scout & Medic are not about to tell the rest of the team that they are a pair of transsexual men, especially when Medic agrees to help Scout in his transition. For all the weirdness that goes on in the base, the world is not kind to queer people, & they aim to keep the reason behind their friendship a secret, even if it kills them. ))

Trans Scout and Trans Medic solidarity fic. I need more of this.

Eight Mercenaries and A Toddler by ChaosandMayhem

(( When Respawn malfunctions and their annoying Scout is turned into something far more precocious, it'll take all of the RED team's wits and patience to look after him. At the same time, Engineer must find a way to turn Scout back into an adult before the BLUs-or anyone else-realizes what's happened. No pairings, just a bunch of exhausted trained killers and one hyperactive child. ))

An Ancient Text from 2012 and the only FF.Net fic on this list, EMaAT is a classic for me. Lot's of Spy backstory, if memory serves. Quotes from this live rent free in my mind.

PracticalEspionage:

++Under the Lake by Her_AngelEyes

(( Engineer goes fishing. Hilarity ensues. ))

Don't let the description fool you. This is a non-con/mind break fic. If you like darkfic stuff, than this is for you~

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #speeding bullet #practical espionage #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 pyro #tf2 engineer #tf2 demo #tf2 heavy #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier #tf2 medic #tf2 fanfiction

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alpaca-clouds · 6 months ago

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That Awkwardness Among The Vampire Spawn

Something I am thinking about way too much in regards of Cazador's main spawn and also the 7000 souls is all that trauma - and how they are gonna deal in the "vampires spawns live, Astarion remains a spawn" ending.

Because we know two things about the spawn under Cazador:

Cazador made his seven main spawn torture each other at times to play out his power over them.

Some of those 7000 souls meant for sacrifice very probably have raped whoever went to seduce them, while they due to their commands could not fight back.

And I might be too much of a sucker for good whump, but this idea and the implications live rent-free in my head. Because how are those poeple going to deal with each other?

I mean, it is pretty clear from the interactions we get, that Cazador did the good old abuser tactic of trying to get his seven main spawn to work against each other. We know that this was more successful in some regards than in others. It seems Astarion was mostly austracized from the other spawn, and it seems that the others are not necessarily friends, but there are some among them who are closer with each other than others.

And yet, that is already something they gotta deal with, if they gotta stay together for now. Especially as they will have some trauma among each toher - and possibly quite a lot of unhealthy relationships in general. Especially if you realized that they most probably have tortured each other. Sure, it was not their fault, because bloody mindcontrol, but that does not lessen the trauma, right?

And then there is the other thing.

Like, one way or another basically any sexual interaction that the spawn had with their victims was sexual assault, because they were trafficked and unable to consent or say "no". This is something I brought up a lot more in Bound by Blood. Because... While some of the victims would have definitely have had sex with those spawn thinking it was consensual, there would be some who did not give a shit. And it was not as if Cazador cared, right? Be it stuff where the spawn had been forced into some sort of kink they definitely did not want, or be it just outright rape.

Meanwhile, of course, the other way around the spawn tricked those people into a situation where they thought those people were to be killed, while Cazador turned them into vampires without their consent, of course. And this led to them being half-starved in those dungeons. (Also: Let's face it, given how sadistic Cazador was, I would not put it past him to torture some of those 7000 just for shits and giggles.)

And all of that overhead... It will lead to so much pain, won't it? When they all need to learn how to deal with each other. There is just so much hurt there.

Like, how do you deal with a person who tortured you, even though it was not their decision? How do you deal with a person who raped you, when they thought it was consensual? How to you deal with the person, who raped you, because they fucking didn't care? How do you deal with that person, while also knowing that in the end they got put through hell because of it, even though you did not know about that until recently?

So... Yes, that is a lot, right? And it makes for a lot of confused feelings.

Admittedly, in Wishing Well (which is my story about Astarion finally meeting up with the other spawn a year after the end of the game) I do focus mostly on Astarion and Sebastian in that regard, I do bring it more into Bound by Blood, where Aurelia is dealing with several of those people.

I will also admit: I find it almost a bit sad how underexplored this topic is in fanfiction. I know, I know, I am one of the few who actually obsesses about the other spawn in the first place, but... As I said, I find it kinda sad.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #vampires #vampire spawn #cazador szarr #bg3 aurelia #bg3 sebastian #bg3 yousen #pale petras #bg3 darylia #bg3 leon #bg3 violet #bg3 analysis #bg3 meta

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renewedmotionforjudgment · 7 months ago

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Huan Zhu Ge Ge (还珠格格), explained

Vox, don’t sue me for using this title.

Background: the other night, I suddenly had the OST stuck in my head. And I amaze my self by able to somehow sing the entire soundtrack?

Anyways, for those who either grew up in mainland China in the 90s or part the Chinese diaspora, Huan Zhu Ge Ge, princess returning pearl, was probably the OG idol historical. It’s adapted from a Qiong Yao novel. Huge hit across Asia. Influenced a whole generation.

Background plot — Xiao Yan Zi is a street orphan who met a girl named Zi Wei. Zi Wei turned out to be the daughter of Qian Long. Xiao Yan Zi accidentally gets mistaken as Zi Wei, takes on the title of princess, and hijinks ensues.

Tagging @huanzhuyulu for additions.

Anyways, this is Xiao Yan Zi

Perky, spunky, not super smart academically, and with a heart of gold. You know that female lead in idol cdramas these days? Xiao Yan Zi was the prototype. But also, she’s hilarious about Chinese proverbs.

This is Zi Wei

The prototype Ruby Lin character. I found Zi Wei rather corny when I was 7, TBH. Angsty back story involving being the unknown illegitimate daughter of the emperor, and then later getting whumped/tortured repeatedly by the empress.

This is the 5th Prince, Yong Qi

The emperor’s favorite son. The guy you thought would be the next emperor until you read anything about history. Smart and earnest. Xiao Yan Zi’s love interest.

(My first ever OTP!)

This is Fu Er Kang

Qian Long’s bodyguard. Zi Wei’s love interest. Done with Xiao Yan Zi and Yong Qi’s nonsense since episode 3 of season 1. He and Zi Wei had a lot of angsty moments that 7 years old me definitely was not into.

This is Jin Suo (on the right)

Zi Wei’s maid and BFF. Doubter of Xiao Yan Zi’s antics. Honestly not sure what personality she has other than “Fan Bing Bing is really pretty!”

This is Qian Long

Huang Ah Ma! The drama is Qian Long’s best publicist. Somehow manage to perv on women and threaten to off his kids, and is jovial enough that you spend your childhood going “what a loving father!”

This is Ling Fei

Yes, the same Ling Fei as Wei Yingluo from Yanxi. Super nice and motherly. The reason why my brain could not compute Ruyi for the longest time.

IN SUMMARY:

(Sorry, Er Tai — I don’t have enough GIF space to introduce you. Ditto, Qing Er. )

#huan zhu ge ge

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mothervvoid · 6 months ago

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Kakashi's Birthday Recs

since it's our beloved boy's birthday, I thought I'd take some time to rec a few of my favorite fics (and a few of my own)!

The Pack Survives by ihopethelightwillshineuponus

genfic | 97k / 25/25ch | Kakashi & Team 7-centric When a simple C-rank mission turns into a straight-up nightmare, the members of Team Seven narrowly escape with their lives. They end up stuck in the middle of nowhere, each of them injured and forced to rely on one another for help.

A++ whump & team bonding, it's great!

Like You'd Get Your Knuckles Bloody For Me by mabledonut

genfic | 37k / 10/10ch | Kakashi & Team 7-centric Kakashi was in hell, or something close to it. a.k.a. Genin Team 7 goes bananas after their sensei gets kidnapped and tortured.

another A++ whump fic, with some really great team bonding moments. kakashi defies hiruzen's decree a little and spills a bit of knowledge about naruto's dad + team ten cameo & mednin!shikamaru!

The Last Time I'll Abandon You by mabledonut

genfic | 300k+ / 78/120ch | Team Minato-centric | Ongoing “Hatake Kakashi, isn’t it…?” Kakuzu asked as he emerged from underground, as the black strings or wires or whatever they were retracted back into his body, catching Kakashi from behind along the way, tugging him down, once again laying him prone on the hard rocks and roots of the forest floor. “It’s been some time, but yes, I do remember you…” Shit, we are in a bad way, Kakashi thought to himself as he struggled to get up. Who’s gonna…

an absolutely SAGA of a story, a must-read. though it's a genfic it DOES have some background ships like asukure, and features TEENIE TINNYYY allusions to ships like kakarin, obikaka and obirin. some top-tier whump, nauseating, will have you reading through your fingers at times, i honestly cannot recommend this fic enough!

Uneasy Lies the Head by Hiiraeth

genfic | 130k / 27/27ch | Kakashi & Team 7-centric “Shikamaru,” He began, trying to stay calm. “I’d like for you to get Sakura." Kakashi swallowed thickly and swayed on his feet. "Because I think I've just been poisoned."

POISON FIC!! kakashi has been poisoned! will he and co figure out a cure IN TIME? take a look and FIND OUT!! stunning whump, wonderful team dynamics. this was one of the first fics i ever read in the naruto fandom and it did NOT disappoint!

Just Leave Me in Two Pieces by @perpetuallyuneloquent

genfic | 12.5k / 3/?ch | Kakashi & Team Minato-centric | Ongoing Kakashi kept his eyes closed as the world came into focus around him. The stale air smelled vaguely like old sake and burning kerosene, the ground beneath him gritty and cold. His mind was too sluggish for him to process more, however. I just want to go back to sleep, honestly. Well, that was concerning. Usually, he couldn’t sleep. …Where am I?

exciting and deliciously upsetting fic as team minato goes through the recycling wheel of miscommunication. featuring some grade A whump and a side of people not saying what they should when they need to, and a very interesting original villain!

And Of Course, I'm throwing a couple of my own fics:

red clouds, white wings, silver hair, dogteeth by Mothervvoid

Kakashi/Konan | 2.8k / 1/1ch | Kakashi & Konan-centric When she goes to him she must shed her red clouds and become something else. White wings, dark clothes; bright like an angel as she was when she first made her descent into the ravine where she found him. She could have left him of course, leaf seal on his headband and red spiral flak jacket. This man is her enemy.

in this fic i dare to ask the question: how would this ship work? feat some kakashi whump!

Pebble Brain by Mothervvoid

Kakashi/Obito | 20.7k / 6/6ch | Kakashi & Obito-centric Communication is king.

my obikaka magnum opus.

#fic recs #kakashi hatake

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layraket · 5 months ago

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Day 3 - Set up for Failure

Character(s): Legend and (in part) Time (LU)

Words: 936

Summary: Legend knows how the old man ended, or at least in his timeline

Whump scale: 1 (see the full scale here)

Warnings: mentioned Character Death, nothing graphic

When they ended in what appeared to be Time’s era, something felt weird.

“Is this yer Hyrule field?” Twilight asked, already noticing the expression in the old man’s face.

“Yes… Wait, no? It looks the same, but very different at the same time” he commented with a frown “Some trees look a lot younger, and the place too…”

Twilight matched with a frown of his own “Huh, weird”

Around the group murmurs were heard of where to go. When they were already deciding for the best option the feeling of pulling coming from a portal called for them.

“Weird indeed” Wind agreed with Twilight’s comment, already grabbing Warriors’ scarf to walk through the portal.

It was until they all went through it that they noticed there was an empty space.

There have been stories of a boy who tried to stop the man that caused the downfall of Hyrule. A kid who, with a fairy by his side and the legendary sword, went to a fight where he only met his demise.

This story is one that Legend knows from memory, his uncle always retelling it to him.

That’s also how he knows from the start who the old man is.

He wasn’t sure how, but it was obvious that Time was the same kid of the legend, just a little taller and grown up.

He tried to not think about it too deep, maybe it was really just a legend and there was no child.

He always though that, until he was given wrong.

They arrived at what looked like Time’s era, but there was something that definitely made the difference. The magic around the place was slightly damaged.

There’s always some trace of magic, and here it was a lot weaker than the one he always feels when they are going through Hyrule Field. The thing that worried him the most is the hint of darkness that plagued it almost in every corner.

Legend seems to have been separated from the group, not being able to see any sign of them close to his position. The only thing that was the closest to him was–

A boy. Blond, green clothes and a blue fairy coming with him.

Maybe he stared a little too much, because the kid noticed and came running towards him.

The sound of bells came together with the Fairy’s voice “We haven’t never seen you before! And we know everyone in the kingdom. Are you new?” The kid–Link, his name was Link– looked at him. Two blue eyes full of wonder and curiosity. If this was the old man, he obviously could sense all his magic arsenal.

Legend tried to come with a quick and reasonable response “Yeah, I came here after hearing about a kingdom full of life, wanted to explore and see what it can offer”

The kid frowned–And oh how it looked almost the same way that the old man usually does– and cleared his throat “There’s lots of cool things, just stay inside Castletown for today, you can explore all you want later”

There was something in his voice that didn’t match with how he looked. Raw and obviously rarely used, he understands now why the fairy was the first one to talk.

Then he noticed, the pommel of a dark purple in the kid’s back. He was going towards Ganon.

“I will take it in count” A pause, he needs to be careful how will he word this “And why is it that I’ll need to wait?”

The fairy was ready with an answer “In the actual times it’s not too safe wandering around, not after some attacks in the castle, but we’re taking care of it! Right, Link?” After that, the kid nodded.

The kid. The one who has the weight of the entire kingdom on his shoulders.

The one that he knows how will end up.

“I understand. Then I should get going, I will not stop the two of you anymore” He started making his way towards the gates, at least from here he could see in which direction to go.

Before he could go too far, Legend grabbed all his courage to speak again “Be careful and try your best, alright? I trust that I will be able to see you again” He never looked back to see the kid’s expression.

When he was close to the gates, the familiar pull of the portal made presence.

“So, you only needed me to give him some words? Cool” If she heard him, there was no signal to make it known.

He knows how the story ends, there was nothing that he could do even if he wanted to.

Centuries after, an old soul follows this one kid that decided to grab it’s old weapon. It saw how it finished the work it started, putting again the weapon on it’s place.

The soul decided to keep company this kid, witnessing more and more incredible adventures.

When it met the others it was delighted. Other cool people, who also went through big adventures and came victorious, it was fantastic!

If the young one stared at its direction every now and then, it didn’t care.

There was another one with its special kid, who seemed to come after all the pink-kid’s adventures. It also started following this fairy boy, his magic being like a warm comfort.

It should have seen it coming, Link should have known that it was set in stone for him to end in this state.

At least he can keep his promise, even if is only one sided.

#whumptober2024 #no.3 #set up for failure #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu time #lu fic #testing artstyles each day without really wanting to but well if it fits #layraket writing #layraket art

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whumpninja · 2 months ago

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Sorry for the delay 😅 summary of On The Run for your medieval thingy:

The world’s been at war for so long that no one remembers peace. The Facility thrives in this chaos, stealing kids and turning them into weapons to keep the fight going. They don’t care if you live or die—as long as you’re useful.

Sam, Asset 83, is an infiltrator who lings for freedom. When he realises his best friend, Alex (Asset 84), might not survive much longer in his combat role, he decides to get them out.

He enlists Charlie (Asset 85), a medic who’s sick of patching people up just to see them thrown back into the fight, and Ash (Asset 77), a broken assassin the Facility in planning to decommission.

But breaking out turns out to be the easy part.

Now they’re on the run in a war-torn world that doesn’t want them, a world of danger, desperation and stigma.

And the Facility isn’t letting go without a fight.

I imagine this being announced with a loud and very official trumpet.

On the Run

Hear ye! Long hath the world been riven by war, so long that the memory of peace is but a forgotten dream. In this ceaseless strife doth the Consortium prosper, seizing children and forging them into weapons, caring naught for their lives, save only that they serve. Among these thralls is Sam, called Thrall Three-and-Eighty, a cunning infiltrator who yearns for freedom. When he learns that his companion Alex, Thrall Four-and-Eighty, may soon perish in his brutal duties, Sam resolves to flee with him.

To aid his flight, Sam enlisteth Charlie, Thrall Five-and-Eighty, a war-worn healer grown weary of mending wounds only to see men cast once more into battle, and Ash, Thrall Seven-and-Seventy, a broken assassin whom the Consortium didst deem unfit for further use. Yet, though they escape the Consortium’s walls, fleeing into the war-sundered world beyond proveth a greater peril still—a land of danger and disdain.

But beware—the Consortium, though sundered from its thralls, will not yield pursuit so lightly.

#ye olde whump stories #whump #jack be whumpy #jack be answering

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aceofwhump · 23 days ago

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hope youre doing well!

just wanted to let you know that i started binging ted lasso the other day after going through your blog for recs on something to watch (as i do, often) and i ADORE it, so thank you!!

i just watched the episode where jamie’s dad is abusive to him in front of the entire team and i have to say that it’s some of the best emotional whump ive seen in a WHILE omg. rewatched that scene so many times,,,,

while im here ill ask if you happen to have any fav jamie fic recs? no pressure though if you cant think of any specific ones, ill likely go through the entire tag on ao3 lol

Hi! I am doing all right thanks! Hope you're well too!

Omg yay!! Ted Lasso is so good!!! I'm so glad you're watching it! Ugh that episode is one of my favorites! The emotions just kill me. I love Jamie Tartt so much. I too watched that scene on a loop. So good.

Oooooh yes I have recs for you my friend! Many! Go forth and enjoy!

the early arrival of a fragile spring by mballyntyne Summary: Coach, I’m me, he had said once, why would I want to be anything else? OR Jamie gets concussed, his dad is a terrible person, there are far too many references to sad disney films, and the sun finally begins to shine.

Emergency Contact by relevanceisoverrated Summary: When Jamie ends up in the hospital after an accident, the hospital has to call his emergency contact, Ted.

The calm before the literal and figurative storm by Multifandom_damnation Summary: They lose to Man City, but they might lose a lot more than a game that day

Barn Raising by altschmerzes Summary: After the locker room disaster in Manchester, Roy drives Jamie home. The chaos they find when they arrive at the house swiftly proves it is not a safe place to spend the night, forcing a change of plans and a reroute to Roy’s own home. The following day Jamie experiences, in this order: The most bewildering breakfast of his life, a penalty kick clinic with a seven-year-old, and an overwhelming display from his teammates that brings him face to face with the fact that not only has he been accepted back in Richmond it’s also possible he might be, in a way he can’t remotely process or understand, loved here.

Scaffolding by altschmerzes Summary: Jamie collapses at training the day before an away game far from home, running a fever, and somehow this ends up being Roy's problem. And Ted's, when he persuades Roy to take it in shifts. It's both of their problem, though it's a problem for them in different ways. Ted struggles to keep the feeling of being helpless from sending him too deep into his own head to stay where he's needed. His experience as a parent both helps and doesn't. As for Roy, hating Jamie was a lot simpler than caring about him is. Taking care of him? Roy doesn't have a clue where he got the idea he was competent enough to do that. Especially when it feels like all he does is mess it up.

The Same Story by altschmerzes Summary: “So,” Trent starts, keeping his voice mild and professional. “We have all, by now, seen the footage from the unfortunate run-in you had with your father, the night of the twenty-fifth of April in the car park at Coventry City FC’s pitch.” It would've been traumatic enough for Jamie's father to ruin Richmond's most recent victory in front of the whole team, but when the confrontation turns violent in front of a gaggle of reporters, the ensuing social media firestorm is even worse. Over the next two and a half weeks, Jamie will have to navigate the charges against his father, walk a gauntlet of publicity that he never asked for, and prepare to give the interview of a lifetime. Luckily, Richmond has always been there to catch him on the other side.

Better Angels by altschmerzes Summary: The second time that Jamie shows up, smirking and announcing that he can't participate in training because he's hurt is so much worse than the first time. He's changed a lot, grown up a lot, and no one knows why he's acting like this again when he's put so much time and effort into not being that person anymore. It feels like history is repeating itself, except… something isn't adding up. Sam is the one who puts it together, who sees the proof that Jamie very much is hurt, and has led everyone to believe that he isn't by telling them that he is in a way that sounded like an obvious lie. It makes his head spin, and he doesn't know what to do. Thankfully, his team captain and his coaches are there to figure it out. (Hypothetical season 3 timeline. Completely gen. Jamie is hurt in an accident. He doesn't handle it well.)

Something to be said by macaronicism Summary: First day back in training after what happened at Wembley is awkward, but everyone tries their best.

for speaking through walls by LadyCharity Summary: When an incident in the match against West Ham leads to a threat to Jamie's well-being, Ted comes face-to-face with what he dreads the most. In which Jamie haunts Ted just as much as the dead.

don't let it in with no intention to keep it by jamietxrtt Summary: "Glass shatters to Jamie’s left, missing the front door by centimeters. He ignores it and ducks out into the cloudy London night, the cold night air raising the hairs on his bare arms. No time to hesitate and grab a jacket now, though, not with the suffocating smell of beer smoking him out of his own house."

it's such a long road when you go it alone by themightyduck Summary: Jamie goes down hard during the last match of the season and struggles to determine his worth outside football. Ted would like to stop seeing his boys get hurt on the field. Roy seeks to become emotionally well-adjusted and possibly even Jamie's close friend.

On Pure Instinct by Dandelion_Orange_Pips Summary:

Jamie was standing rigidly and staring at Ted’s hand in abject horror, unblinking. Then rose his gaze to meet Ted’s, tears now uncontrolled. The world seemed to come to a stop and Ted couldn't breathe. One wrong move.

Ted raised his hands, placating.

Then Jamie’s eyes snapped rapidly to his hand and back, becoming even wider. Ted froze.

“Jamie-”

Jamie ran.

Or: Ted tries his best to keep Jamie together after a tough game. He fails, but maybe it's for the best.

The Invalidated Silent Screams Of The Tormented by Cuppa_Char Summary: When a blast from the past unsettles Jamie it leads to a very public meltdown.

Somehow Everything Will Be Okay by Lilac_Lemonade Summary: What happened once the match against Richmond was over and Jamie's dad pulled him aside? Ted walked away after seeing him with his dad in the treatment room and Jamie thought that was it, just one more person on the list of people that had abandoned him. But what if Ted came back? What if Ted was the one to give Jamie the letter after Richmond's match against Man City?

mind games by sweetsorrowss Summary: jamie tartt is tired of being toyed with. he's tired of being manipulated. he's tired of people pretending that they care. when his father pays him a surprise and unwelcome visit, jamie finds solace in the one person he's convinced himself is pretending the most. but ted lasso isn't pretending, and maybe jamie deserves a place to call home after all.

Thick and Thin and Every Line by LivingProof Summary: In the aftermath of the match against Manchester City, Ted, Roy, and Jamie struggle with demons shared and separate. Then Beard’s here, then his dad is gone, just the gunshot crack of the door to herald their departure. He’d wince at the sound, but his muscles have turned to lead. And Jamie’s here, the only person in this room, the spotlight on him casting everyone else in shadow. He knows they’re out there somewhere, audience to a Greek fucking tragedy, and maybe when this is over they’ll realize they should be applauding.

Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation by jumpfall Summary: What Ted remembers later is Beard saying, "Jamie's not putting any weight on it."

To Being Better by vxctorsfvlix Summary: Jamie-centric rewrite of the Ola's Restaurant scene in 3.03, featuring more hurt and also more comfort. Jamie's been struggling with the arrival of Zava, and how it's affecting his relationships with the team. Things come to a head on the opening night of Sam's restaurant.

for what you have tamed by LadyCharity Summary: "Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed." In which Ted and Jamie are tamed by their fathers, their traumas, and each other.

according to the calculations by telm_393 Summary: After everything, Jamie’s not alone.

an excess of warmth or coldness by bartonbones Summary: When Jamie is seriously injured during a match, Roy and Ted are reminded how much they care about him--as a son, or as a younger brother, or as an exposed nerve. Jamie is reminded what it's like to have people care when his face gets knocked in.

Wings Wouldn't Help You Down by ViolentlyRed Summary: He thought the most awkward thing he'd have to endure was a rigid Roy Kent embrace in the Man City locker room months ago. He was wrong. And he’s getting better at admitting when he’s wrong, so. Turning up on Coach's doorstep at two thirty in the morning was infinitely, infinitely more awkward. Or, Jamie's hurt and not about to say much about it, and Ted's a good coach.

Haunted by WinterAndMissHyde Summary: Isaac and Colin lock Jamie in a storage room at Nelson Road as part of a "harmless" joke. This brings Jamie a lot of bad memories back he'd rather forget and leads him to a panic attack. He also dislocates his shoulder trying to get out. Ted, Sam and Dani are there to comfort him in the aftermath. Set after Jamie comes back to Richmond on season 2.

#mod replies #ask #fic recs #whump fanfics #ted lasso #jamie tartt #fanfics #mod's fic recs

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 1 year ago

Text

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 12

Black White and Midnight Blue | Loki x Reader

You and Loki repay your debt to the Avengers by attending Baron Zemo's exclusive Hampton's dinner. But when an unexpected guest arrives, you find yourself the centre of attention.

Warnings: Baron Zemo chat (I hate that guy), mention of PTSD and anxiety for reader, angst, whump/hurt (the comfort comes next chapter!)

A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken ages and it's not the extra long chapter I promised because, in the end, the extra bit just made sense further along in the story telling. We're really moving the plot along at pace in this chapter and revealing a bit more about our antagonists so I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for sticking with this!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

There was a time in your life when you had only ever dreamt of sitting beside the Avengers in their luxurious top floor office, discussing plans to save the world. Like everyone else, you’d seen the news, watched the footage of them battling in New York and been awed by their bravery and prowess. But now, seeing them argue and having felt their fear and wrath, you only felt cold.

Their icy demeanors hadn’t thawed since you returned, the truce between the heroes and Loki was dangerously thin, held together only by Thor’s surprisingly adept diplomacy and their need for you.

Below the table you felt the only warmth in the room, Loki’s hand on your thigh, pressing his fingertips just a little harder than normal, to help you feel grounded. Below the surface you could feel his magic thrumming, restrained in its frustrations, straining against its bonds in an attempt to be freed. It was a feeling you could empathise with, your magic called back to him, coiled inside of you ready to strike.

The poor weather of mid autumn had kept you trapped inside and unable to practise the depths of your magic as you wanted to. But when you were alone together, your sedir tangled with his and had allowed you to make and support illusions both beautiful and romantic.

You sighed, bathing in the memory of Loki twirling you around his bedroom, transformed for the evening into a miniature Asgardian ballroom.

Hands clasped, one steadying palm at the small of your back as the waltz rose around you. His intricate steps leading you into dizzying turns.

Your memories blurred together, dances from aeons past melting into this perfect evening.

“Are you two listening to me?” Steve barked, hands on his hips as he commanded the room, a large leather binder spread open on the table in front of him.

“Of course we are, Captain.” Loki drawled, a note of disdain lingering in the otherwise quiet room.

“Yes, Captain Rogers.” You answered, earning a tickle of long fingers along the inside of your knee from Loki.

Such a good girl

A teasing warmth spread over your skin, starting in the dimple of soft flesh that Loki had pinched and up your spine.

I just want to get this done with

“As I was saying,” he coughed, flipping a page in his folder, “Loki and Estrid -”

“Oh, you don't have to start using that name-” you interjected.

Since returning from Tønsberg you’d shared your new name with the group for clarity. But it still felt odd to have an entirely different identity. Though there were things you could become accustomed to, your new name was proving to be a sticking point.

“Loki and Estrid -” Steve continued.

“Lady Estrid,” Loki interrupted, leaning forwards across the table and flourishing a gold pen from the thin air around his hand, “if you're going to ignore her wishes, you could at least be correct, Captain, allow me to update your little record for you. It’s Lady Estrid, Princess of -”

“If you want to use it, then just Estrid is fine.” You took the pen from his hand and placed it carefully on the table where it melted into the surface leaving a faint trace of gold.

“Darling you should -”

“It’s fine, Loki, let’s just-” you tipped your head towards the waiting team and raised your eyebrows.

Please, let it go

Never, you deserve to be treated with respect, especially from these cretins

I know, I know, but the sooner we’re done here the sooner we can just leave

Loki scowled, but turned back to Steve, “continue.”

Steve returned the scowl and went back to his book, “Loki and Estrid will use their powers to infiltrate the party and separate at the bar, your new identities will be in your briefing packs and outfits will be provided. Although I suppose, should the need arise, you will both be able to create disguises. Should you be compromised this will be key to your escape.

“Loki, you’ll head to the office room so that you can break into the safe. There should be a laptop in there with - well, possibly best if you don’t know. But it’s important. Estrid you’ll be keeping people away, providing cover as this is your first op. Loki, you should hand the laptop over to Natasha who’ll be waiting here -” a map flashed up above the desk in the same, obnoxiously bright blue and orange that all of Stark’s designs seemed to favour.

You and Loki leant back in your chairs to get a better look. “Natasha will be waiting in the first of the get-away vehicles. It’s important that you both stay at the party for at least a short while so as to not raise suspicions. When it’s time for you to leave we’ll let you know through your comms. Understood?”

“Understood,” you nodded at Steve.

“Loki?” The Captain stared pointedly at the Prince sitting next to you who had become so bored he’d produced a nail file from somewhere and was carefully tidying up the edge of his middle finger.

“You understand that I’m a God? This is not the first time I’ve been in a raiding party.” Loki raised one eyebrow, “I think between us we’re perfectly capable. Now, my darling, can we leave?” Loki had a way of speaking to you as if there was no one else in the room, clear and direct, his eyes focussed on you entirely and it made you tingle all over.

“Yes, we can go.” You allowed yourself a small smile at his impatience and took his outstretched hand, allowing your gaze to rise up his lean, muscular body.

The two of you had barely left Loki’s rooms since your date, snuggled together in blissful solitude morning and night. Just being in the conference room felt painful and you longed to return to the comfort of Loki’s bedroom.

“But we still have -” Steve started.

“My Ásynja has said that it’s time for us to go,” Loki cut off Steve’s protests and turned his back on the Avengers, tucking your hand into his elbow and leading you back to his quarters.

The light glimmered off your dress as you stepped from the dark interior of the limo and out onto into the softly lit courtyard of Baron Zemo’s Hampton’s residence. Behind the tall gates and stone walls, New York’s most wanted were being wined and dined while the Avengers set up their checkpoints in the inky darkness of the beach and grassland that surrounded the vast estate.

Loki kept hold of your hand once the door closed behind you, tucking your fingers into the crook of his elbow, the soft wool material of his suit warmed your palm while you looked up at the towering mansion. Behind the stone walls the home itself looked almost cosy, warm lights detailing the traditional white wood and blue accents. Who could have known that behind the white linen curtains lurked so many criminals, the blood on their hands enough to fill the tinkling fountain in the centre of the courtyard.

You squeezed Loki’s arm to get his attention.

“Yes, darling.” His voice was a low purr against the backdrop of muffled string music and laughter.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” You whispered, stepping closer to him, “what if I can’t hold this shape?”

The entire operation was dependent on you and Loki pretending to be a minor couple from one of the European crime families trying to break new ground in America. When you’d questioned where the real couple would be, Steve had told you not to worry about it. But Tony gleefully explained that he had arranged for Natasha to pay the mysterious pair a visit just before their limo was due to arrive. You hadn’t dared to think about where she’d put them for the duration of the evening.

“You can and you will,” he assured, tugging you closer, “and then we can be free of this nonsense, Ásynja, and we can return to Tønsberg together.” Behind the illusion, you saw the flash of Loki’s blue eyes, a shimmer of gold, of promise, and you straightened yourself. “It doesn’t hurt that you look absolutely radiant, my darling.” He grinned, appraising the black cocktail dress that had been chosen for you. It was a very beautiful dress, and although you’d become rather accustomed to wearing green and blue, you had accepted that it was your job to blend in tonight and not stand out.

“Loki,” you gave an embarrassed whisper.

“Well, you do.” He said, matter of factly. “It’s incredibly distracting.”

You grinned back, “you look very handsome too..”

“Then let’s make our entrance.” Even under his vanir the same mischievous look past over his eyes.

Loki gave your hand one last squeeze before guiding you up the steps and into the foyer, ready for your first mission.

Inside, the party appeared to be in full swing. The host, Baron Zemo, held court at the centre of the room, talking animatedly with a large group of men all dressed almost identically in luxurious looking black tuxedos. Hanging off their arms were some of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, the jewels dangling from their ears catching in the soft lighting, their tinkling laughs cutting through the gruff bluster of their dates.

Loki had already clocked at least two doors that he would need to check, you could tell by the way he squeezed your arm as you passed by the quiet porter who took your coats at the door. He would have to sneak off soon, but it was your job to stay at the bar installed in the corner of the large dining room, to talk to anyone leaving the Baron’s circle of confidence who might become suspicious about Loki’s whereabouts and, in the event anyone left the room, you could alert Loki or try to cause a diversion to allow him time to secure the laptop and escape.

Together you made your way across the crowded room to the bar and ordered drinks, taking only the barest sip to keep sober. Although the sedatives that you were used to taking had completely worn off, you were liable to get very drunk, very quickly, when you were nervous and you had never had to maintain a completely different body while drinking. You hoped that twirling your straw flirtatiously would be enough to look natural while Loki scoped out the room.

“It’s time, darling.” He whispered in your ear, his familiar scent ghosting over you, despite his unfamiliar appearance. He traced the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose and then kissed your cheek, leaving you with goosebumps appearing on your arms.

Loki siddled away from the bar, blending into the shadowed edges of the room and vanishing from sight as he rounded the corner into the area roped off as ‘private’.

Alone, you surveyed the room again, watching as the Baron captivated his laughing audience with another tale of his debauchery, the crispness of his starched shirt hiding the clearly healing cuts and bruises below.

You’d heard stories about him, mostly from the Avengers themselves, about how he had tried to break them, how he had manipulated his way into the compound and triggered Bucky. The super soldier hadn’t been around for that conversation, but Steve had looked over your shoulder as if he could still see the image of his best friend, snarling like a feral beast as he tore his way through the compound. Natasha had reassured you that it couldn’t happen again, but it wasn’t Bucky you were afraid of. He seemed to be as much a victim as circumstance as you, always grimacing before a fight and never bragging about his victories. He was trapped in that compound just as you had been, his only comfort the red headed spy that he was dancing around approaching.

The reassurances of the Avengers meant nothing to you, because it wasn’t Bucky or the Winter Soldier you were afraid of. It wasn’t even necessarily the Baron and his despicable friends, although the easy way he spoke about death had sent a chill down your spine.

The people you were really afraid of, who made your skin crawl and your head hurt. The people you really wanted to be away from... It was the Avengers and Agents that swarmed the compound, the way they recited their allegiance to each other and bowed down to Stark and his wealth.

That scared you more than anything else, because it left you with no one to trust.

No one but Loki.

It brought a familiar, nagging, question back to the front of your mind. If the Baron had been neutralised, why were you even here in the first place? No one had told you and it was really the last place you wanted to be while you were still recovering from your ordeal.

What if the kidnappers were here, what if he was part of it? Your heart beat sped up, your chest feeling tight as your breath became shallow.

You turned away from the bar and carefully dabbed at your tearline, catching the tears before they fell and tucking your now mascara stained handkerchief back into your clutch bag, allowing yourself time to play with your bracelet, hidden inside, flashing in the candle light as the only way to sooth your fractured nerves. For the first time you’d do anything to go back to your slow and steady life from before, to not know about this world or any of these so called powers, if this is where it got you.

Risking a look up at the room you were relieved to see no one had even noticed you, and you allowed yourself to think of the one thing that was keeping you going, Loki. If none of this happened, there’d be no Loki and, powers or not, he was the first positive thing to come into your life in a long time. Or, if your memories were right, to come back into your life.

Your breathing evened out at the thought of him, the way he’d smiled so softly while helping you shift into this new form. How he’d kissed your temple while waiting for the limousine and held your hand the entire way. He’d promised to reward you for your bravery as soon as the laptop had been handed over and, if it was anything like his other ‘rewards’ it was certainly worth looking forward to.

Just as you were settling into the thought of falling into bed with Loki, a ripple of fear rolled up your spine and a scream cut through the gentle tones of the string quartet. You span around, leaping to your feet, your hands held in front of you just as Loki had taught you, ready to defend yourself against the mobsters.

But there was no gun fight, no knives drawn, instead the room began to fill with blinding light, so white you had to cover your eyes with your hands, pressing so hard you could see stars as the other guests began to scream and shout.

“Estrid, are you there?” Natasha’s voice crackled in your ear, so far away and useless as you backed away to crouch down behind the spindly barstool. Suddenly this entire operation seemed like a terrible idea.

“I’m here, but so is something else, where’s Loki?” Your voice cracked, hoping he was close by.

“He secured the item, it’s with me and he’s heading back to the party-” Natasha’s response was cut off by the familiar feeling of Loki’s presence entering your thoughts.

I’m here, I’m safe, are you?

It floated to you through the chaos, anchoring you to your spot. If he was coming then you could hold yourself for now, though you were too scared to even breathe properly. Each inhale felt jagged, like ice in your lungs.

There’s someone here, it’s so bright, I can’t see, I don’t know what’s happening

“Estrid, come in? - Report? - Estrid!” Natasha shouted, the distinctive click of her trying different channels before returning to yours made your head ache. Slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself, you popped out the earbud and placed it in your bag, silencing the electric hum of the comms.

Everything else went silent then and, for a few seconds, you thought it might be over, but then there was a hand on your elbow, pulling you up and out from your hiding place. You hoped it was Loki and that the change in his cologne was due to his needing to hide, but an uneasy feeling had already settled over you.

“Loki?” You whispered, “can I open my eyes?”

“You can open your eyes, child.” The speaker had a deep, rough voice, as if it hadn’t been used in many years, the words jagged and jarring, pulling at your memories.

“Child?” You cracked one eye open enough to see who had spoken, the room was still white, but between the two of you it flowed as a golden river, dust motes dancing in the air and rather than being blinded as you imagined, it made you think of your Grandfather and hazy summer afternoons with the windows open wide and the dust motes dancing in the air.

Around you the party goers were locked, stock still, in time, their hands over their faces as yours had been.

“Come, Estrid, I have been looking for you.” He moved his hands to cup your cheeks, turning your face up to him as you opened your eyes. In slow motion he smiled down at you and you felt a strange sense of peace wash over you.

The man before you was tall and fair, blonde curls fell in perfect tendrils over his broad shoulders and the green cloak that fell to the floor in waves. On one shoulder a silver pin kept his cape attached to his tunic, as if he’d stepped straight from a history book into the party. Although the room was already bright, he seemed to be lit from within, like he was standing in the summer afternoon sun. His eyes were bright too, but not with anger.

“Who are you?” You asked, though it was clear this was another god, you willed Loki to arrive, none of these mortals would be able to help you now and despite your training you felt powerless. All of your energy was focussed on maintaining your illusion, just in case there was someone looking.

“Ah, child, of course, you do not remember. I forget myself, that we have not seen each other these past centuries. It is I, Lugh.” He stepped back and placed his hands back on the pommel of the broad sword hanging from hip and nodded his head politely. “I knew your mother, long ago, she was dear to my heart and I had searched for you, her beloved daughter, for many years. I have sent for you, though you escaped my man.” He smiled at you indulgently, “you always were such trouble, Estrid. Whatever will we do with you?”

His words were soft and he was honest and friendly as if he knew you well, but all you could hear were the shouts of your memories.

Insolent welp

Disgusting

Fallen

You’d been dragged around, half starved, poisoned and beaten. The anxiety that had gripped you so tightly just moments before morphed inside of you, a tight, heavy rage bubbled and filled every pore. How dare he. How dare anyone. Turn up now and play nicely after you had been passed around like a spare part.

“Get away from me.” You kept your voice low, clenching your fists at your side as your anger bubbled within. “Get away from me, right now.” Your rage, like lava, moved in slow motion, rising slowly and heavily.

“Child, it is imperative you -”

“No!” You shouted, the light blared brighter, the bulbs smashing around you like fireworks.

The man reached forwards, and as his fingers touched your own the bubble inside burst and your magic took over, wrapping you in leather and velvet, a shining silver breastplate and epaulettes were revealed by the shimmering blue flame that danced over your body. The meagre outfit you’d once conjured with Loki and Thor was a mere memory compared to the battle ready armour. In your hand you now held a long spear and, as you watched, the flame danced to it’s place upon it, flaring and then dancing in the air.

But he didn’t let go and as he tightened his grip you were overtaken by the memory of winters in front of a huge fire, piles of furs surrounding you and your mother, sipping wine in a cup and laughing. The snow beyond the entrance of the room fell in soft flakes and the fire smelt of pine and peat. The man was there laughing too, toasting with your mother.

“You are truly a kind friend, Lugh, to host us so.” Your mothers voice was warm and rich, like sweet chocolate and spice.

“Brigid, my dearest friend, it is an honour to have you and your beautiful daughter stay with me on your journey home.”

“Ah, we should discuss that later,” your mother nodded towards you, “I have been planning for Estrid’s future and I fear - sweet girl, perhaps you should go and play a while.” Your mother pointed towards a neat looking pile of woollen capes and a young boy, so familiar, with bright eyes.

“Go, Estrid, enjoy the snowfall.” Lugh touched the top of your head as he passed and you were thrown back into yourself.

The man took a step back, his own five pointed spear tapping the floor and, behind him, Loki stood aghast but smiling only for you, his own battle armour shimmering gold and his horns brushing the doorframe.

“You heard the lady, back away, now.” Loki strode forwards, twin daggers appearing in a flash of magic, he turned his head away from the bright light of the stranger, only facing him when his magic had conjured a pair of black sunglasses to protect his eyes.

The man sighed and banged the end of his spear on the floor again, a red flame appearing which he swung in a wide arc creating a barrier between himself and Loki. The wall of flames reached almost to the ceiling, blocking your escape and your rescue.

“Loki!” You cried out, making your first move away from your position at the bar towards him, a hand reaching out, almost touching the flame.

“Leave him!”

You rounded on the man, your spear tipped forwards in front of you, half defensive and entirely furious, your teeth ground together. “I don’t know who you are but I won’t go with you, leave me alone!”

The man rushed forwards, knocking your spear to the side in one deft movement and grabbing your hands, “you must listen you’re in danger. You are being hunted, you must stop using your magic and hide yourself.”

“By you!” You fought against him, “I won’t be put back there, I won’t.” But something nagged at you, that was why the boy was so familiar, you’d seen those eyes before as the boy, now a man, had earnestly begged for you to stop using your magic. You hadn’t listened, you’d carried on and then - and then you’d been taken again.

The man began dragging you towards the windows, the too bright light that had kept the guests subdued parted around him like smoke revealing the dark parquet floor.

“I can remove you from this place, but you must stop manifesting this armour, you do not require it and it will only draw their attention.”

“Let her go!” Loki projected himself across the room, his body still stuck behind the flames but multiple versions of himself appearing in a semi-circle and hemming your kidnapper in. The man glowed brighter, blurring his features beyond recognition.

With one last attempt to free you Loki, your real Loki, pushed at the flame, shooting his own magic through in one huge green blast, and knocking the man backwards and away from you.

But you fell too.

You cried out, rolling on the floor and landing heavily against the doorframe with a sickening thump.

<<Chapter 11

Chapter 13>>

God mentioned

This is just from my own reading, I'm by no means an expert! This is also a fictionalised version of actual mythology, just like Loki & Thor in the MCU.

Lugh: A figure in Irish mythology and belongs to the Tuatha Dé Danann. He's portrayed as a warrior but is also linked to artistic skills as well as truth telling and oath taking.

Lugh and Brigid are similar in that they are linked to many attributes.

In the Irish mythology Lugh challenges Brigid's husband, Bres, who is king. So. Take from that what you will! In this story I will be portraying Lugh and Brigid as friends and kindred spirits.

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