#You can have Gramps if you wanna bring him or even bring whoever!

[liedream]

@chaldrange​ said:  no let's do it

     “So we need my twin and then we need both of you ready, we probably can get whoever we want at the ready for when we do this just for a safety measure. I call Jalter.” Only because she’d kill him otherwise.

[errthel]

Route Two Deux

Welcome to part two of which may become a discontinued fantasy, but tis is life I guess. Pulled from the ever fantastic Second Wife AU of the Draconia Family Series by @tri3tri if you didn't know, and if you didn't, how?????? So without further ado I guess, this is the second part.

Tired eyes wandered off to the lush green lawn surrounding the outside of the building. From the barstool in the kitchen, he could see the green grass with tidy flower beds, a small pond off to the side giving a sense of serenity to whoever walked in there. The silence of the large house would have accented the loneliness of the boy, but the music that boomed from the speakers in the other room did well to hide it.

Lucien's damp mood was brought to him by an acceptance letter from a school he never applied to. He remembered that day a week ago when a dove brought it to him during breakfast, and the horror that ensued from his grandparents prompted them to eplain that the school, Royal Sword Academy, was in the same world as his wretched father.

He was familiar with the concept of his mother and sisters held captive in a world separate from his own. He was also aware of the existence of magic in that world, and to some extent, his own. The teen remembered distant memories of the past, when he would uncontrollably make objects float and with the unlocking of a special power when he was ten, it seemed that he should have expected something to happen to him.

Lucien expected dying to the hands of the government or being killed in a lab or just being exiled from society and be forced into becoming a laborer. But he stupidly didn't expect an acceptance letter to a magic school, that was a big oh right moment he thought.

His pale hand brought up the juice box to his delicate lips, which were rather plump and pink. Dispite his seemingly feminine lips, his face is anything but female or male. To everyone around him, Lucien is the epitome of androgynous beauty, and if it wasn't for his rather deep and masculine voice, he would have passed off as a female, a rather tall one at that

To his surprise the only one who really physically changed was him, he grew up to a hulking one hundred and eighty cm. While his grandparents, who were having a date in town, maintained their semi-youthful appearance, no matter how much Lucien tried to find a difference from photos of the past to now, he couldn't find any. Are they perhaps immortal? Or have magic unconsciously?

He wasn't sure about that, they smelled as normal as everybody else so he never questioned it.

The ringing of his phone caught his attention as he brought the hunk of metal to his ear.

"Lucien here."

"Ahh! Lucien-sama!" Ah... another girl

Lucien sighed a silent sigh before he quickly asked, "Um... may I ask who this is?"

"Mhm! I'm Mari-chan! From Class 1-B!" the female voice from the other end said in a cheery manner

"Oh okay... sorry, but I have something to do..."

...

"Do I have to get another number? I just got this one a month ago."

"Another one?" Albert's gruff voice evaded the silence of the home making Lucien sigh once more

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she's a high schooler, no one's named Mari in the middle school department."

"Gosh. Our grandson's soooooo popular!"

"This is not a laughing matter Hanna!"

"Why? I'm plenty proud of Lucien! Aren't you? He's like the middle schooler you never were."

"What do you mean by that!"

"Hey, gramps, when I go to Royal Sword Academy, what should I do... you know. I wanna see mother, but I don't want to risk getting her in trouble, same for my sisters." a sad tone took over the fifteen year old's speech

"So that's what you've been thinking of kid..." Albert trailed off as he examined the younger boy

Over the years the boy's grandparents received visions, where they came from, they didn't know. Each and every vision they had, they dictated to Lucien, the visions consisted of the life his mother had living with his so called father, father my foot Lucien thought. But the visions never showed what happened after that tall woman took his mother and sisters, and any knowledge about it was something Lucien heavily desired.

Hanna walked over to the barstool Lucien sat at and sat on the one next to it, she held a sympathetic look whilst a sad disposition overtook her.

"Lucien, you are a smart child, when you are there, I implore you to make decisions that will help you towards your goal." her cold frigid tone showcased the woman's serious side as she pat her grandson's back.

"Kid, when you're there, there will be a time where you will have to show your other form. Whether that time be the first time you step into that school, or at graduation, I hope you don't regret it." Albert added as he walked to the pair

"Mhm..."

~

The rest of the day was somber as the fated day drew closer and closer, whatever day that may be. Lucien thought back to what might have went through his mother's mind when she woke up at Night Raven College. Was she scared? He thinks she was.

His mother... Lucien no longer remembers what she looked like or what his sisters looked like. He can only remember the warmth they gave him years ago, before that day.

He remembers sobbing uncontrollably when he and his grandparents watched 'Sleeping Beauty' one day in the past. His small hands took what ever they could and threw it to the television when the villainess, Maleficent, first appeared on the screen. The hands of his grandmother held him back as his grandfather, in sheer panic, unplugged the television cord.

That 'episode' of his left him trembling and wary of all Disney movies for a long time.

~

The heaviness of the plastic bag he was carrying made the boy cringe. He had only planned to buy a few cups of coffee jelly to share with his friends at the club, but the amount of girls that stopped him to give him some more made him uncomfortable.

The plastic bag was at its witts end as it held at least twenty cups of coffee jelly, storebought and homemade.

Once he had reached his destination, his other hand found the handle of the door that was labeled 'music club' and slid it open. The slight laughter inside the room made Lucien warm up as he ducked a bit to get in.

"Oh! Lucien-senpai! What are you doing here!" a shorter boy with blond tresses sitting by the shiney drum set called out

"Just visiting." Lucien smiled lightly to the boy

"O! There it is! Lucien-senpai's mysterious smile!"

"Hush, hush, Kei-chan." a brown haired girl said to Kei

"Lucien-senpai, I also feel the same as Kei-chan. What brings you here? I thought he graduating class was given a week off." she said looking at the taller male

"There's no harm in visiting my dear underclassmen isn't there, Haru? I thought I would say something before going off to my new school." Lucien said, grimacing a bit in the inside at the thought of leaving this wonderful world of his in pursuit of a world he has no idea about

"So the rumor of Lucien-san leaving for another school was true after all..." a flamboyant voice evaded the club room followed by the shutting of the door

Lucien looked behind to see a head of dyed light pink hair, styled into a very stylish hair style. He chuckled before confirming the rumor.

"Yeah, I have been forced to attend a new school. Also, nice hair Takashi."

"Huuhh! I thought your grandparents were the chillest grandparents! I never knew they would force you to attend a different school." Kei's loud voice made Lucien answer with a sigh

"It wasn't my grandparents really, intact they were against the idea of me changing schools."

"Eh? Then who forced you?" Takashi asked as Haru looked at the oldest male with questioning eyes

"...it's a secret..." Lucien said as he gave a discreet smile with hooded eyes

"Is that so? Actually, I don't think we know anything about your parents Lucien-san." Takashi questioned

"Actually Takashi-senpai is right, we don't know anything about your parents. Are they perhaps the one who're forcing you to change schools Lucien-senpai?" Haru said voicing out her worries

A lump appeared in Lucien's throat, he wasn't at all sensitive to the absence of his parents. He just mildly disliked the concept of parents, considering his own parents weren't a golden example. His 'father' could be summed up to just being a sperm donor and he wouldn't bat an eye. But his mother, oh his poor mother, tortured to do things against her own volition. He hated it, hated that parents meant a pair, a pair that is supposedly bounded by mutual love, but his own parents were just a disgrace to that. He doesn't even know if his mother is still alive at the hands of his father's family.

"I, don't know anything about them." sweetly smiling, hiding his malice to that word so that his underclassmen would stop concerning themselves with talk about his parents

The room plummeted to a chilling atmosphere, their upperclassman wasn't in a good mood, they could tell. They could also tell that any talk about his parents put him in an silently aggressive mood, so they took care to shut their mouths.

"Right! I have coffee jelly with me. I was supposed to get four, but it seems that with my parting with the school, the amount of people giving me coffee jelly has increased. I'm starting to think that I'm getting sick of it." Lucien said in his usual voice, which helped immensely in warming up the room, and in time the whole club was enjoying the desserts with some lovely music

~

Tbh, I have no idea what is happening with Lucien. I just imagine him as someone who decides based on his goal, which is to get out of Twisted Wonderland with minimal drama, plus points on getting his family back, and that would definitely be something his grandparents repeat everytime he thinks of his mother.

When he gets upset, he tends to not outwardly show it at all, he knows better than to throw tantrums.

Lucien surprisingly is also someone who goes with the flow, but he still doesn't blindly let everything to fate. He makes decisions in situations on the spot, and they always worked out for him, so why change?

[rhabakoli]

Infinite White - 10

just a short, fluffy, sweet thing.

Previous Chapters here.

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @i-am-always-famished @marauderskeeper @superwolfchild-fan @m00nlightdelights @cgn-99 @alicedopey @alwaysadreamingoptimist @atlas-of-the-world @finnickfoxes @rmwest9

**

It’s been two weeks since the dinner. Exams have been taken, essays were turned in, students were drunk on freedom and spare time and alcohol. Maeve was packing her bags, she was going home for a few days. “Will you be okay?” “Yes, of course. I’ll visit my grandparents, they’ve been demanding I come as soon as I am free of exams and studying.” “Oh, great. They’ll love to see you.” She stuffed her track pants into the duffle bag she reserved for dirty laundry. “How will you go there?” “I’ll get a taxi. Or maybe I’ll take a bike, depending on the weather.” Fenja leaned against the wall and hugged a pillow to her chest. “What will you do at home?” “Give piggyback rides to my cousins, let my baby brother sleep in bed with me and built a lot of pillow forts. Last time I was home, we cracked the record of two rooms. We wanna see if we can expand to three this time.” Fenja smiled at that. Maeve’s family sounded great. She never had the opportunity to go visit them, as her grandparents were her priority during holidays. 

“Well, good luck then.” “Thank you.” Maeve zipped up the last bag and then came over to say goodbye with a hug and a kiss to her cheek. “Be good, kiddo.” “Have fun.” The door closed behind her, and Fenja was alone. She looked around in their room, empty, Maeves side weirdly clean and organized. She suddenly felt so lonely, it was like an ice cold hand holding her heart. A sob broke out of her and her hands flew up to cover her mouth, to not let it escape, lest someone heard. Her eyes were squeezed close, tears escaping still. The silence of the room, of the whole building, was pressing down on her, bringing her quite literally to her knees. She crawled under her comforter, pulled it close around her body and closed her eyes. She’d just rest for a bit. She’d be fine. She can manage just fine on her own. She just needed a break.

**

“So, honey, how are you? How is that writer thing going, the one you told us about?” Fenja sat with her grandparents on their patio, overlooking the small gardens of the apartment block. “The last decision is to be made soon, I’m just waiting for an announcement. But, if that doesn’t work out, my friend’s aunt offered me an internship with that very same organisation.” Her grandfather knocked on the wooden table, winking at her. “Will be fine, cupcake.” “I hope so. I need the experience, I want to learn.” Her grandmother laid a hand on her arm. “With your talent and hard work, I am sure they’ll love to have you.” “I hope so.” Fenja was sitting in one of their cozy chairs, feet up on another, let the sun shine on her naked belly, where she had pulled up her shirt. She enjoyed the time with them, get them up to date, listen to their gossip on the neighbours. Apparently, assisted living wasn’t that different from college dorms. “Just last week, Nolan from the upstairs apartment, he got busted. Was smoking all kinds of things, all prescribed, he said. Neither of his docs knew anything about the drugs, tho.” Her grandfather laughed, a cigar between his fingers as he slapped his hand on the table in amusement. His granddaughter grinned, always enjoying their stories. She was glad they had a good life here, she’d never get sleep if she knew they were unhappy here. Her grandparents were laughing and kissing each other, and she was happy. For a moment, she was really, truly happy right where she was. And she’d be even happier, if she got that internship. Gala had said it’s paid, and she could use the money. Raising her glass to her lips, she smirked. She’d send her grandparents on vacation. They never had any, because of her; they never wanted to leave her for long.

**

“Honey, are you staying with us, or are you going back to the dorms?” Her grandmother placed her hand on her head, stroking her hair. “I’ll go back. There’s a whole stack of books waiting for me, that I haven’t read yet.” “We’ll call you a cab, cupcake.” Fenja looked over, at her granddad and shook her head. “No need, gramps. I biked over.” He wanted to protest, when her phone started vibrating off the table. Perfect timing, whoever it was. She’d kiss them. Or not. “Hi, you.” She smiled at her grandparents and went inside, fleeing from curious gazes. “What’s up, buttercup?” She could hear the grin in his voice and scoffed. “Please, don’t ever call me that again.” With an arm crossed over her chest, she paced through the kitchen. “What do you want?” “Just a bit of your very precious time. And your location.” “What are you talking about?” “I’ll come pick you up, if you allow. Ingrid has a whole week planned, nothing but Netflix and Hulu and whatever else she’s subscribed to.” His voice went an octave deeper, raspy, as if he was sharing a secret, when he added: “She also bought a ‘lifetime’ supply of popcorn, that won’t even last through the first three days.”   Fenja just shrugged. “Popcorn is life, mate.” “Yeah, I guess so.” She heard a voice in the background, hissing something at her friend, before he asked: “So? Where am I to pick you up? Ingrid won’t take a no.” “Yeah, she got that from her brother.” She sighed. Stubborn. All of them. The whole lot. “I’m at my grandparents, give me half an hour to get home.” “Ah, nah, gimme their address, I’ll come over.” “You really don’t have to.” “Uh, yeah, I do. I’ll send you proof of the murderous looks my sisters are giving me right this moment.” His smile was evident in his voice, and she knew she’d never be able to go against all three of the Ivarsson-siblings. “Okay, fine. But park down the road, I don’t want this to come back to my grandparents.” “Why?” “Because they’ll plan our wedding, if they see you.” Over his laughter, she added: “I have my bike here, bring a big car.” 

** Ragnar was indeed waiting down the road, arm hanging out the window, head leaned back against the headrest, as he watched her cycle towards him. 

“What’s that?”, he asked, the bike obviously making him question her sanity. Before she could answer, he shook his head, and rephrased: “No, I know what a bike is, I just mean,” His hand moved up and down, gesturing at Fenja, “What are you doing on it?” “Biking, my friend. Not everyone has a monster-truck at their disposal.” He opened the car door, stepped out and rolled his eyes at her. “It’s a jeep, not a monster-truck. And she’s willing to carry your bike around, so you better thank her.” “She?” “Yes.” He took her bike and lifted it into the back of the Wrangler, before taking her hand and pulling her to the other side of the car. “You are one of those who name their cars?” “And their motorbikes.” “You have a bike?” “Yeah.” He held the door open, watched as she got in and slammed it shut, before bounding over and hopped into the driver’s seat. “Mum had quite something to say about it, but by then I already passed the exam.” “I bet.” Fenja strapped in, leaned back and watched as Ragnar pushed the car into gear and pulled out of the parking spot. “What’s her name then?” “Hela.” Fenja frowned, noticing his amused smirk. “Hela? As in, ‘ruler or Helheim - Hela’?” He hummed approvingly, eyes flicking over to her, as he took a left. “Isn’t that kinda - I don’t know, dark? For a car?” “Nah. She’s in control of the underworld, I dedicated her my car, I should be safe.” She nodded. “Sure. Logically.”

**

The moment Ragnar pulled up in front of the house, Ingrid came flying, Bear bounding after her. She opened the door open before Fenja could even move, and stood there, grinning from one ear to the other. “We have popcorn, sweets, chips, cheetos and peanut flips and like five different flavors of Ice Cream.” Fenja raised an eyebrow and shot Ragnar a look over her shoulder. “How long is she going to keep me here?” Ragnar came around, hugged his sister to his side and winked at his friend. “Until the end of days.”

**

“Where are your parents?” “Away. Mom wants a weekend for herself, before everything is about the baby, and Dad is with her, of course.” They were all in the living room, puppy piled onto the couch, buried under pillows and blankets. Fenja didn’t think there’d be any pillows left in the rest of the house. But it was so very comfy and soft, so she didn’t complain. Ingrid yawned frequently enough to catch her sisters attention. “You tired?” “No.” Fenja snorted and burrowed further into the nest she built around herself. Ragnar was curled around it, propped on his elbow so he could look over her, see the TV. He glanced over at his sisters and leaned forward, murmuring into Fenjas ear: “10 bucks Aslaug is just as tired and uses her to go to bed herself.” Aslaug threw a cheeto at him, catching him square on the forehead. “Stop being a shithead.” “What? It’s true!”, Ingrid laughed, before she almost unhinges her jaw at the next yawn. They continued bickering, no one really paying attention anymore; the movie on TV just a background noise. Fenja felt so at home with them, her heart clenched. If she ever lost them, she’d probably die. Ingrid and Aslaug indeed went to bed soon after, taking their blankets with them, but leaving the pillows. Fenja sat up, stretched over and grabbed the fluffy one Ingrid had had in her clutches all evening. She cackled, like a witch, as she hugged it to her chest. “So easy to satisfy.” “It’s a fluffy pillow. Why wouldn’t I be?” She looked back at him, stretching her neck to see his face. He looked down at her, shaking his head ever so lightly. Her lips were stretched into a wide, cheeky grin, a healthy glow on her skin, and she looked so awfully… right, where she was. If she could just stay there forever.   Her eyes went from his face to the TV, and her grin became even wider, and then: “BUTT!” She giggled at Ragnar’s confused look. There was a sex scene, and she happily screamed out whatever naked body part she could catch a glimpse off.   “Another butt!” “Fenja.” She almost drowned under her pillows, had her sweater pulled up over her chin and it’s strings knotted to a bow - so adorable, so cute, he never wanted her to wear anything else. “A nipple!” “Will you stop that, you child?” “Never.” Not 5 seconds later, a lady was naked on the screen, and Ragnar lunged at her, trying to clap a hand over her mouth, but she sat up like a stung pig and cackled loudly, as she threw a loud “Boobies!” into the room. “You are the most awful person to watch a movie with, you know that?” “I am aware.” He reached out, pulled her back down and wrapped a hand over her eyes, laughing as she started thrashing and wriggling. “If you behave like a child, I’ll treat you like one.” “You sound like an old housewife!” She pulled at his hand, tried to bring it down, away from her eyes, but he didn’t release. Only when there were no more naked parts, did he let her go. She sat up again, and turned to him. “You’re no fun.” “I’m plenty fun.” “Yeah?” “Mhm.” He smirked at her, his mind wandering to…. fun activities. She caught the expression on his face. “You are a dirty bastard.” “I am not.” “You are.” “I’ll fucking show you ‘dirty bastard’”, he growled and pulled her down once again, his free hand burrowing under her sweater and finding all the right spots to make her squirm against him, torturing her. “Okay, okay, stop, please!”   Fenja wheezed, barely getting air into her lungs, as she tried to get away from him and his traitorous hands. “Not so dirty now, huh?” “No, no, not at all!” Her laughter filled the room, bright and happy, and he wanted it to never end. He had small flashbacks to the dinner, her scared and frustrated face, so fragile... Ragnar wrapped his arms around her, held her close and still, and observed her face, while she was busy taking deep breaths. “Can you behave now?” He quickly came to regret his move, when he felt her fingers dig into his belly, cheeky smile in place. “Never.”

**

Part 11

[tumblunni]

More thinking about the story big sis Bane is from

Lol this is SO awkward how on earth did i create the bff/mentor supporting character before ANY OF THE REST OF THE PLOT but man its been so much fun thinking up different stories she could fit in

* i was talking with a friend and they suggested she'd use a warhammer in battle ans now im like "hmm yes this story must be a game with combat" and that at least narrows it down a bit! I absolutely support her being a buff blacksmith cuddlebug who protects her friends with her fists as well as her mentorly perfectness. Also this friend said they're gonna design me a cool battle outfit for her IM SO EXCITED HOLY SHITTTT

* I'm not sure if the character she's bffs with would actually be a grandpa or just.. Grandpish? I just have this sense that its someone frail and depressed who doesn't believe they deserve friends and family, and they're all hermitty social anxiety until they meet this blacksmith lady who is like Fuck I Will Devote All Of My Considerable Power Towards Making Your Life More Alive. Seriously man i love Bane SO MUCH already!! She's basically a shonen hero archetype?? THE GRAMP AVENGER! Or a grandma or a dad or a whoever this person ends up being COS IF LITERALLY ANYONE IS IN NEED OF HELP SHE WILL BE THERE!! THE BANE OF DEPRESSION!!

* oh but im pretty sure that neither her nor the grandpa are the main character? I dont know why but i just feel like they would be better experienced from an outside view. I wanna be someone making friends with them! Also i feel like the protagonist should maybe be a young kid hero? Like, represent a different archetypal family role in this lil found family of hugs and sads.

* first initial idea- grandpa is a mysterious dark sorcerer and you are his apprentice! Or rather he just SEES himself as a dark sorcerer? Like all magic is considered evil, so even thougj he chooses to use his powers as a town doctor saving lives he still feels like he's a cursed monster. So he has an awkward dynamic with his apprentice cos he just Does Not Know How To React to someone hero worshipping him like this?? Like this orphan kid just came out of nowhere yelling BE MY TEACHER and hugging him and he's like OH NOOOO I CANT LEAVE THEM TO DIE IN THE COLD and theyre like SEE THATS PROOF YOURE GREAT and he's like NOOOOO!! xD i think a sort of "guy who never planned to be a gramp but had grampness thrown upon him" And he rose to the occasion spectacularly!!

* Another idea is that potentially instead of just being a random orphan, protagonist apprentice's backstory is shrouded in mystery? I was thinking maybe of a reveal that gramps actually did use to be a grandpa and his granddaughter died, and the protagonist was his failed attempt to ressurect her using dark magic. And for a long time he's been holding out on the hope that he really did bring her back, and that the protagonist will be able to recover her memories if he just tries hard enough. But as he grows to know you and love you like his own child, he realizes that you're your own person. (Or, well, your own homunculus?) And he takes responsibiluty for the new person he created, and helps you deal with finding out that you're not human, and you just form this very strange cute little family together with also the badass blacksmith lady yay! Also possibly LGBTQ elements because why not? Have the original dead grandkid always be a different gender to the protagonist, and them being trans could resonate with the themes that even though you're a clone you're your own person. And maybe have some sweet sad dream sequence where protag meets the ghost of the dead kid and you see a vision of what they might have looked like if they grew older. So throughout the course of the story you've become very different looking, and now you can embrace your big sibling for the first and last time, and feel like you really are a family. And they tell you to take care of gramps *sniff*

* Another idea is that maybe the protagonist is a secret government weapon? Like the gramps is still a dark sorcerer but instead of the dark incident in his past being a dead family member, its that he was part of a team of magic scientists and found out that his coworkers were crossing moral lines in their pursuit of power. So he finds a bunch of people locked up in a lab being turned into monsters and he managed to save only one of them during his great escape. And now he's trying to hide from them and raise this poor little monsterized kid to have a normal life.

* OR another idea is maybe taking this oc idea i had for a mismagius belonging to charon, because when i headcanon i tend to headcanon so deep i give everyone a full party and every party member needs a deep backstory too, lol. Anyway in that original pokemon version this mismagius was a lot more like an original ghost critter anyway i guess. His name was Hex and his concept was sorta like.. Charon meets kid charon? The other pokemon i gave him were all cute and bubbly to contrast him so i wanted to have one who was equally cynical. But also Hex is actually just a little kid even though he tries his damn best to be a Big Scary Evil Demon You Made A Contract With In Exchange For Great Power but really he's like a nine year old larping as one XD i think the whole concept could work better if he really WAS a magic spirit demon thing that this sad grandpa made a contract with in order to get the power to make his dreams come true. But also he's kind of a reject amoung other contract demon spirit thingies, and he's Really Just Babbu. I had this really sad idea for how he first met his trainer back when he was still a pokemon oc. From charon/new oc grandpa's perspective he found this big ominous scary demon lord and made an unholy contract! But from the demon's perspective he was just a tiny pathetic lonely lil kid who'd been hurt too many times by everyone he once trusted. So he grew to hate all those monsters who make friends with humans, and tried to act all egotistical like he chose to be alone. But eventually he just couldnt take it anymore and he decided he'd just go with the next human who tries to take him. Even if theyre evil.. Itd still be better than being alone. So he put up all those barriers around his true self and was so reluctant to trust gramps, but eventually being togethee has helped him regain his faith in having a happy life, yknow? And meanwhile grandpa is just like "oh god oh fuck youre a BABBY oh god how did i never know WHO WOULD LEAVE YOU ALL ALONE!!!" "Dude im a demon its not exactly normal to care about my wellbeing." "FUCK THAT, I AM YOUR GRAMP NOW"

* so yeah lol loads of different ideas about what the story could be, all kinda similar at heart but wildly varying from an innocent cute protag to grumpy cynical who's secretly an innocent cute protag, lol!

* in any case whoever you are and whoever gramps is, Bane is still be love u as big sis and support u thru the everything, yes

[smiley-stark]

1st Place!

Bucky Barnes One Shot

a/n: this was meant to be up yesterday, but of course the weather disagreed. My WiFi was out and my dumb laptop wouldn’t cooperate! I refuse to post long imagines from mobile, anyways! I have something pretty great coming up sometime tomorrow, so be ready for that! xx

prompt: A day off for the Avengers can be extremely exciting... or very, very lazy... or both.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: language (?), a very grumpy Bucky, fluff, and awful puns. I swear, I shouldn’t be allowed to write. *not my gif*

“Fuck!” You squeaked when the cup of flower slipped out of your buttery fingers, landing with a poof on the tile.

“Nice one, (Y/n)” You heard Natasha joke from the doorway. “A few of us are gonna have a little getaway for the day, wanna come?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. Wanda walked to her side before adding an excited “We’re gonna go to some big malls!”

You laughed and faced them. 

“Depends, who is ‘a few of us’?” You asked, copying Nat’s stance and relaxing against the messy counter top.

“As of right now everyone’s coming. Besides Banner and Barnes, of course. They’re such hermits.” Wanda chuckled and shook her head at the thought of them.

You hated to admit it but your heartbeat quickened at the mention of Bucky. You had known him since the day he arrived at the tower. Being close with Steve, he trusted you with Bucky. Of course he was hard to break, but you had finally gotten to him. The two of you were close friends and you couldn’t deny the chemistry. Of course, you didn’t want to force anything on him, so you respected his boundaries.

“(Y/n)? Stop daydreaming! Coming or not? We’re about to head out.” Natasha asked, snapping her fingers in front of your face to bring you back to reality.

You looked down at your outfit and released a heavy sigh. Your lounge clothes were coated in a thin powder cast. Hair tossed back messily, bare face, and a muscle tee on. “I’d love to, but I don’t think I’d be ready in time. I’m sorry. Bring me a cupcake from that one shop!!” You smiled to the girls and Wanda nodded in response.

You turned back to your (currently failing) attempt at making pancakes from scratch. A loud ruckus came from the media room as everyone filed out to Tony’s cars. You laughed at how dysfunctional the entire situation was. The best part was how Steve called everyone his ‘gang’, making Sam and Natasha cringe visibly.

Slapping your hands together, you got to work on the pancake batter, giving in and using some box mix. You tossed in some blueberries and threw it all in a skillet, wanting to hurry and bring breakfast to two of your closest friends.

You set the final golden cake on its dish and doused it in syrup and butter before carrying it off to Dr. Banner’s lab. You knocked on the door before letting yourself in. You had practically memorized the scene that was before you. Bruce sat facing the window with multiple manila folders and papers sat around him and each time you entered the room he would turn with a smile.

“Hey Bruce!” You greeted and walked over to his seat.

“Good morning, what’s that?” He smiled again, gesturing to the plate you held.

“It’s your breakfast, smart one! I hope its good. I had to give in and use box mix.” You shrugged, forcing a fork in his hand.

“oh, Thank you so much! It smells delicious.” He was really excited about your kind act and let out a giggle from happiness.

“I have another plate to deliver, catch ya later Doc!” You smiled and ruffled his hair before leaving his favorite room.

You made your way back to the kitchen and grabbed the plate with the most pancakes, adding syrup and butter again. 

“FRIDAY can you tell me where Bucky is?” You asked, staring up to the ceiling.

“Yes, Miss. Sergeant Barnes is in his room.” The AI replied.

“Thank you! You’re a blessing, really.”

“You’re too kind.” 

The elevator came to a sudden stop and let you off on Bucky’s floor. You headed towards his door, reaching out to knock right as the knob jiggled. Startled, you stepped back and held a fork up for protection.

“What’re you doing?” He asked, gaze hardly meeting you as he started to walk past you. Great. One of those days.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You quizzed from behind him but he just continued to strut away.

“Kitchen” He grunted.

“No need, you dummy!” You giggled from behind him.

God how he loved that giggle.

He turned on his heel and his eyes finally took you in.

“Wait, what?” He was clearly confused. You followed his line of sight and confirmed that he was staring at the stack of pancakes you were holding.

“For you!” You exclaimed and pushed the plate out towards him. His mouth fell open slightly only to shut again abruptly. He scratched the back of his neck.

“For... me?” He repeated, completely blown away.

“Yeah! Blueberry pancakes! I wish I could say that they’re from scratch but I goofed that up pretty bad. Anyway, I made enough for both of us, but I figure you would rather eat alone. That’s why I brought it to your room!” you explained, holding the plate out even further, standing on the tips of your toes for balance.

And God you were so cute.

“No, I’ll eat with you, I mean, if you don’t mind.” He took the plate from your hands and stared down at the food, holding back from devouring it.

“I’d love that!” You urged and pushed him towards the elevator. By the time you had reached the kitchen he had finished half of the stack.

You sat at the bar across from each other, laughing at the sight of him stuffing his face, syrup sticking to his scruff and getting caught in a strand of hair that framed his face. You pulled a hair tie from your wrist and walked around behind him, pulling his hair into a loose ponytail.

“Any good?” You asked, breaking the silence.

“Yuhp.” He responded through a mouthful of food, making you shriek at the sight and throw a hand over his mouth.

“Were you raised in a barn?” You joked, hand still covering his mouth as he continued to chew.

“Maybe! There’s a lot you don’t know about me, doll.” He smiled back, shoveling in another giant bite.

You finished your plate and rinsed both of the dishes in the sink. You hummed and swayed lightly as you set the plates in the washer, expecting Bucky to have returned to his room.

“That’s cute.” He chuckled from the other side of the bar, making you freeze in your tracks.

“Gee thanks.”

“So what’re you about to do?” He inquired and titled his head to the side.

“Probably play something in the media room. Wanna get your ass beat?” You teased.

“I’ll take you up on that, ass beating or not.” He laughed and headed towards the door.

You sat backwards on the sofa, watching Bucky shuffle through Tony’s large assortment of video games. He stopped on one and turned to meet you.

“This okay?” He muttered, holding up a MarioKart game.

“Of course! If you put it in, I’ll get the controllers.” He agreed and you turned to find the equipment.

“Here ya go, you can be player one.” You smiled, holding the controller out to him.

“Which race thingy should we do first?” He asked, flipping across each option.

“Whichever has MooMoo Meadows!” You practically sang out, scooting closer to him.

“Alright, if you say so.” He shrugged and the race began.

“WAIT.” He exclaimed at the timer counted down.

“What?”

“WHAT ARE THE CONTROLS?” He asked, urgency obvious in his voice. You threw your head back in laughter at his worried tone and paused the race.

“Like this.” You leaned over and placed your fingers over his, showing him which buttons did what. You felt your pulse quicken when your finger tips brushed his. How could something so basic and ordinary make you feel like a 16 year old again? “Simple, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” he sighed and you resumed the game. 

“YOU TOTALLY CHEATED!” He bellowed. You won by a landslide, he finished in 8th place. It was becoming apparent that he was a sore loser.

“I totally did not! I would never! It’s not like I would need to cheat to win against you, gramps.” You joked.

“Fine. Let’s make a little bet, then!” He snapped back, causing another laugh to escape your mouth.

“Sounds good to me!” You argued, narrowing your eyes at him in mock anger.

“Whoever wins the next one gets to make the other do whatever they want. But only once.” A smirk draped over his lips as he let out the words, but you remained unbothered.

“Fine with me. I’ll even let you pick the map.” You leaned back into the sofa, trying to act as cool as possible in this situation. A devilish laugh came from the dork next to you as he chose the set of races that included Rainbow Road.

“Really Bucaroo?” (he secretly smiled at your nickname for him) “Rainbow Road is like suicide for a beginner!” You laughed at his seemingly foolish mistake.

“Whatever you say, princess.” He chuckled and shook his head, sitting back to match your body language as the race began.

You had come in second place on the first race and he came in fifth, making you laugh and do a small victory dance.

“If you want, you can back out now!” You boasted, enjoying the confidence boost.

“I’m good, thanks though.” He winked your way as the second race began. You were ahead of him until the final seconds of the third lap when you were hit unexpectedly by a shell.

“Fuck!” You squeaked out for the second time today when his cart raced in and claimed second place before you had even recovered. Thanks to other drivers racing in first, you finished in sixth place.

“I wonder what you’ll have to do for me...” He wondered out loud and tapped his chin, causing you to smack his shoulder lightly.

Rainbow Road began and you sighed in disbelief at how awful it was going. Glancing across the screen you saw Bucky was holding second place.

“No way! This is a KARTastrope!” You whined, proud of your absolutely atrocious pun. Bucky stifled a laugh and remained focused on the race, unlike you who had somehow managed to run off the track three times in about ten seconds.

The race ended and Bucky had somehow managed to finish in first place. He was already up dancing around in victory before you had even crossed the finish line.

“First place! First place! ‘Gramps’ got first place!” He chanted, shaking his butt in your face for a second before turning to face you. He was also obviously a sore winner.

Sighing, you turned to him.

“What do I have to do, Barnes?” You looked up to his standing figure and he smiled down at you with a glimmer in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. He leaned down slowly, giving you the chance to move away. When he saw that you weren’t uncomfortable, he placed his lips on yours. It was like a whisper at first, so soft and undetectable, but after a moment he pressed fully to you. Bucky placed a hand on the back of your neck, metal fingers caressing your cheek lovingly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled into the kiss. He pulled away after another moment, eyes shining down to you.

“I say you have to go on a date with me.” When you nodded in agreement he smiled so wide that his nose crinkled and his eyes shut. How was it possible that this man could make you feel this way?!

“Under one condition.” You laughed, pulling him down to face you again.

“What’s that?”

“You promise to kiss me like that again.”

And he did.

[elrondsscribe]

The Seventh Avenger: Chapter 4

All rights belong to the Tolkien Estate and to Marvel Studios.

The Quinjet (because apparently SHIELD can't possibly name their aircrafts simply) was quite compact for a jet, seating no more than perhaps two dozen passengers aside from the pilots. From the outside it had looked almost triangular in shape.

Glorfindel sat across from Captain Rogers, both now in uniform. Glorfindel's sword lay in its sheath across his lap, and the Captain's famed shield was resting on his knees (how Glorfindel would have loved to test its weight and see if Vibranium was really all it was made out to be!). In the cockpit was Agent Romanoff, and another agent in the co-pilot's chair.

Glorfindel was primly finishing his warrior braids, while Steve looked on with raised eyebrows.

"Those mean something?" he asked.

"They certainly do," said Glorfindel emphatically.

"Can I ask what it is?" Steve pressed.

Glorfindel put the last of the fastenings he'd requested on the end of the last plait before answering. "That shield lying against your knees," he said, pointing. "Is it not more than a means of defence, more even than a deadly weapon? Is it not a symbol, to strike terror into the hearts of the enemies of its bearer? Was it not bought with deeds of valor? Is it not Captain America's shield?"

Steve's eyes had gone very wide. He was staring from the shield to Glorfindel's face in disbelief. "It's like that?"

"It is that and more," said Glorfindel, looking the Captain straight in the face.

Steve sat back and shook his head. "Looks like I got a lot to learn," he said.

"It was a fair question," Glorfindel acknowledged. "And I know it's hard for you to approve of hair this long unless it's on a woman."

Steve grimaced. "Has it been that obvious?"

Glorfindel smiled.

And then Agent Romanoff turned her head and pulled off her headphones. "Guys," she said. "Game time. You might wanna take a look at this."

Glorfindel and Steve both left their seats and stepped up behind the pilots' chairs to look out of the windows. On the ground below, a large crowd of formally dressed people were running out of a concert hall as fast as they could. Behind them stalked a lone figure who could only be Loki. Glorfindel could see that the figure was in in gold-plated armor and a high gold-plated helmet with two large curved horns. A dark green cloak billowed from his shoulders, and in his hand was a queerly shaped golden polearm that most resembled a spear. A blue gem gleamed in a fixture near the point of the spear.

"That's an odd sort of spear," Glorfindel said aloud. "Does it double as some kind of magical staff?"

Romanoff twisted her head round to look up at him with honest surprise. "They really weren't kidding about Elf eyesight," she said.

Just then Loki thumped his staff on the ground, and suddenly four Lokis were blocking the civilians' way, hemming them into a tight square. Then, slowly, they all sank to their knees.

Glorfindel gave an involuntary gasp of alarm. People in the modern age did not kneel before anyone but obvious royalty. Whoever Loki was in reality, he did not seem to playing at any harmless mischief.

"C'mon!" said Steve, who could at least make out that a crowd of civilians was on their knees before Loki. "We gotta go!"

They both turned and rushed into the hold of the Quinjet, Glorfindel reaching aside to press the large button that opened the hangar door. Steve strapped on his blue helmet and picked up the shield, while Glorfindel strapped on his sword-belt and grabbed a parachute, and joined him in front of the open ramp.

"Have we got a play?" shouted Glorfindel over the wind.

"Capture, not kill, that's about it," Steve shouted back. "You wouldn't happen to have a pair of wings handy?"

"I'm an Elf, not a fairy!" huffed Glorfindel, and he marched down the raft and launched himself into the night.

"Geez Louise, do all Elves get offended this easily?" muttered Steve as he jumped after Glorfindel.

"Heard that!" came the distant cry.

They were nearly too late to stop an elderly man who had dared defy Loki from getting murdered in cold blood. Steve landed on his feet, shield at the ready, just as Loki (for of course it was he) lowered the point of his spear. The blue burst of energy meant for the old man bounced harmlessly off the Vibranium.

Showoff.

Glorfindel, who had released the parachute very late and landed just after Steve behind the green-cloaked Asgardian, leaped to his feet and tossed the pack aside. He sent forth a surge of power that dissolved all the false Loki images and sent the true Loki crashing to the ground in a blast of white light. The civilians began scrambling away as fast as they could as Glorfindel advanced on the demigod, sword at the ready, and looked to Steve for direction.

Steve smirked at him. "Neat trick," he said.

Loki climbed slowly to his feet, gazing at the towering, glorious figure of the Elf. "What are you?!" he asked in amazement. "You are no mortal!"

"No Mortal am I," said Glorfindel scornfully, the music of his voice still thrumming with power. "but one who has waited long to gaze upon one of your kind. And now that I behold you, I am disappointed. I had thought you greater than this."

Steve's smirk widened into a smile as he looked up at the sky. "Think we got company," he drawled.

The Quinjet had just sailed into view, and a large machine gun unfolded from the front corner and pointed itself at the Asgardian. "Loki," came the smooth-yet-icy voice of Agent Romanoff from the jet's loudspeaker. "Drop the weapon and stand down."

Loki glanced up, and in an instant raised the spear and pointed it toward the Quinjet. It just dodged the blue blast as the pilots steered it in a circle.

Steve and Glorfindel both plunged toward Loki, who turned to the Captain first. He sent the shield flying with a blow of his spear, but in the next instant Glorfindel was on him, sword in hand. Fifteen years of dancing had left his body supple as a willow, strong as an ox, and swifter than thought. He dealt Loki a blow knocked him sideways on one knee; Steve leapt into the air to deliver a powerful kick.

Loki was stronger than both Steve and Glorfindel, but the Elf was faster and the Man never gave up. Even so it might have gone badly for the two heroes, for Loki tried to distract them with false copies of himself, and Glorfindel had to form a bubble of energy around Loki to contain his magic. That dizzied him for a moment and Loki might have had him, but Steve tackled the Asgardian for all he was worth and tossed him onto the steps of the concert hall.

And then a noise like another distant aircraft caught Glorfindel's ear, and he looked up. The source of the noise was drawing steadily nearer, and as Glorfindel got a better idea of what exactly it was he shot Steve a look of quizzical amusement.

The Man shrugged. "Whaddya know, it's a party!" he said.

And then Glorfindel got to witness in reality what he had heretofore seen only on television or on the screen of his phone. The red-and-gold form of the one and only Iron Man came shooting down through the air toward them and sent a blast of energy at Loki, who was just leaping up again. Then Iron Man landed on one foot and the other knee on the pavement, his hand open to fire another blast and numerous little guns standing from his shoulder and arm.

"Make your move, Reindeer Games," came the famous voice from behind the dour gold mask.

Reindeer Games?

Loki glanced between his three adversaries, raised his hands, and with a shimmer of magic dissolved his armor and helmet.

"Good move," said Iron Man approvingly, and he lowered his hand and folded down the projectiles. Glorfindel released Loki from the confines of the energy sphere.

"Mr. Stark," said Steve deferentially.

"Cap'n, Alexander," said Iron Man just as deferentially.

Glorfindel gave a sharp nod as the Quinjet descended again.

"So you can do magic?"

Glorfindel did not attempt to hide his amusement. Tony Stark, once he'd helped them load their prisoner onto the Quinjet (per Fury's orders) and pulled off his grim-looking helmet, had been eagerly peppering the Elf with questions of the "are all Elves this insanely hot" kind. Glorfindel, for his part, found it interesting to see another side to the famous billionaire other than the partying playboy of YouTube infamy or the irreverent windbag of public television. At the moment he reminded Glorfindel of a child presented with a new toy.

(He had to admit a reluctant respect for the man. Any man could harden himself enough to be an effective warrior or spy, but owning up to the terrible sides of one's own power and turning it to unselfish ends? Glorfindel could think of a few Elven-kings who stood to learn from that, even now.)

"Depends on how you define 'magic'," he said. "If you mean can I talk to the dead, then no."

"Telekinesis, then? Bolts of lightning coming out of your fingertips?"

Steve made a huff of irritation, causing Stark to turn to him. "What's up, Gramps?"

"Maybe he doesn't wanna be quizzed," said Steve, who had also removed his helmet.

"I don't mind being quizzed on the trivial things," said Glorfindel, his tone mild but his look to the Captain laden with meaning.

Steve looked away, and his eye fell upon Loki, who sat bolted securely into a seat near the middle of the jet with the air of a visiting dignitary rather than a prisoner. His face darkened considerably.

"Don't you like it either?" asked Glorfindel, divining the source of his discomfort. Fury had ordered them to bring Loki to the Helicarrier as soon as possible. Loki had come aboard the Quinjet without a word, and had submitted to being fastened into a seat without the least fuss. It had made Glorfindel uneasy, and it would seem that nearly everyone else on the Quinjet felt the same way.

Steve snorted. "I'm pretty sure anybody could tell something's up."

"What, the Rock of Ages rolling over and playing dead like a puppy?" Stark jerked his head in the Asgardian's direction.

"I don't recall it ever being that easy," said Steve. "This guy packs a wallop."

Stark shrugged. "Still, you know, you are pretty spry, for an older fella, without the whole immortality thing going for you." He turned all his attention on Steve now. "What's your thing, Pilates?"

Steve turned a look of annoyance on the famous man.

"It's a form of exercise, it's like calisthenics," Glorfindel clarified.

"Yeah, forgot you might've missed a couple things, you know, doing time as a Capsicle," said Stark casually.

Glorfindel began to be glad he had refrained from both the age and ice jokes. Steve Rogers had an ego, much as he might deny it, and it remained to be seen if it was anywhere near as enormous as Tony Stark's. This will be very interesting.

"Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in," said Steve, looking Tony up and down.

"Yeah, there's a lot of things Fury doesn't tell you," said Tony.

Glorfindel arched an eyebrow. "The man heads a spy outfit. We're lucky we know one another's names."

A bolt of lightning streaked through the sky, and a roll of thunder followed at once, both so close they shook the Quinjet. Glorfindel frowned; he had not sensed an oncoming storm before, and something felt off about this one.

Loki began looking up and around rather anxiously, and Steve noticed. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Scared of a little lightning?"

"I'm not overly fond of what follows," said Loki dryly.

The pieces flew together in Glorfindel's head the instant before something that was neither lightning nor thunder struck the Quinjet with a resounding thud. Glorfindel felt a surge of electricity and foreign power course through his body; more lightning and thunder split the sky.

Tony clamped the helmet of the Iron Man Suit back on, hit the button to open the hangar door, and stepped forward.

"What are you doing?!" shouted Steve in protest. Glorfindel leapt up, drawing his sword and pointing it toward the open door.

A tall figure (taller than Loki, but considerably shorter than Glorfindel), this time in dark armor with a red cape streaming from its shoulders and a heavy-looking hammer in its hand, landed on the ramp in a crouch and straightened itself.

Mighty Tulkas, we're smoked!