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fuchsiagrasshopper · 4 years ago

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Author’s Note: Here it is, the long awaited one-shot that ended up a mini story in length. This wasn’t a planned idea, just something I went with and this is the result. I know this fandom is starting to shrink due to the show ending, but I hope those of you still here are having fun!

Masterlist

Summary/Pairing: Ivar x Reader In which Ivar thinks he’s found a daughter of the goddess Rán

Wordcount: 9642

Warnings: Language, Angst, Smut NSFW

The night was warm and still when Ivar made his way down to the stretching shore. It was a difficult trek the older he became because he had to wade through the sand that seemed to double his weight and sap his strength. After all that effort, he was reminded why he put himself through such a trial when he came into the blessed solitude. When he was a boy he had found an old fishermen's dock that was no longer used, and it was a quiet place he could go without being bothered. Sometimes he would look out at the water and imagine all the lands that were waiting for him to bring them terror and glory. When he was feeling less ambitious after drinking with his brothers, he would lie back on the creaking boards of the dock and gaze at the stars and wonder if the gods were watching in forethought.

His mother told him it was the sea that would take him from her. Her eyes would grow empty yet full of sadness, and he could only watch without being able to comfort her. Ivar wanted to journey, and he assumed his mother's vision meant that either it was by ship or drowning that he would be taken. When one entered a longboat to go raiding, the chance of a storm crashing down was always a possibility, but it was a risk worth taking for honor and legacy. He loved his mother, more than anyone, but he could not stay in Kattegat forever. His fate was out there waiting, and he needed only to extend his hand to take it.

A sudden movement in the water broke his focus and he looked out over the dock to the rippling surface. His eyes adjusted, and he thought his mind had gone when he recognized the whites of a pair of eyes staring back at him. There was a person in the water, bobbing just to their nose above the surface. At first, Ivar reached forward with his hand. They must have been frozen to the bone in the frigid sea. Kattegat's waters never warmed, even in summer.

When he looked at his hand cast forward, he felt foolish. With his useless legs, he couldn't swim. His upper body strength might support him a moment or two, but then sink and be wrapped under in the weeds before he could take a breath. He withdrew his hand only to find the eyes were no longer where they should have been.

Ivar scooted closer to the edge of the dock, searching the black water for the face he thought he saw. He rubbed at his eyes. Perhaps he hadn't slept well enough, or maybe he had ingested something spoiled during the last meal. He chose to believe his senses were sharp. They had kept him alive this long, and while trying to match his brothers no less. His eyes did another sweep of the shore before he called out, "I know you're there. You should know you cannot hide from a son of Ragnar."

His legs that dangled over the pier were parted, and a figure came straight out from the water to rest its arms on his thighs. Ivar flushed when he saw the figure was womanly. A beautiful and terrifying face, with large silver eyes, peered up at him. He had mistaken you for a woman, but you were something more. The hair that tangled down to your waist dipped into the water, and below was not a pair of legs kicking. Black scales with a pearlescent shimmer. You were one of Rán's creatures, or perhaps a daughter to the goddess herself.

"Ragnarsson," You spoke, and he was struck dumb by your voice. "Few may hear the siren's song calling."

Ivar's eyes shot to your hand as it trailed up his leg. Your nails were long, and there was a transparent webbing between your fingers. What surprised him even more than your strange claws was how gentle your touch was. It was a caress barely felt through his trousers.

"Who are you?"

You smiled. "I am (Y/N)."

"I am Ivar."

"I know you," You replied, and your sweeping hand switched to cupping his cheek. "You have your father's eyes and spirit."

"You know Ragnar Lothbrok?" Ivar asked while leaning into your touch. Your hand was warm despite the brisk waters you waded in.

"I know many faces of your home. I like to watch and learn from your people. Your father was a gazer too, but his eyes were to the horizon. You search the stars and night sky."

When you began to pull away, Ivar grabbed your hand and brought it back to his face. "Do you know my brothers?"

"I have seen them, but my song does not reach their ears. You are unique."

Ivar simpered. He could hear what his brothers could not. While they were off in barns and clearings, playing under the skirts of thralls, he was alone in the quiet of the night with a goddess. The sea had chosen him, though youngest and deformed.

"Why have you sought me out?" He asked, desperate to have his hopes confirmed.

"I wish to talk with you, and learn more of your kind. But we must always meet under darkness, for many of your people would rather hurt me than trust me."

Ivar knew why. Fishermen told tales of beautiful women taking sailors to the water, down to the sea bed of Rán's hall, never again to surface. He did not think you had the malice to do such a thing to him.

"How do I know you'll return? Is this even real?"

He couldn't help the creeping doubt from springing forth, and you flashed him a look of pity before plucking the knife from his belt. That got his attention, and he lurched forward to reach for the thing, but you held no ill intent. Instead, you pulled your hair over your shoulder and cut free a length to give to him. It was softer than any wolf pelt, and he clutched it tight to his chest.

"Giving a lock of hair to another can be one's undoing, so believe that I will return or curse me should I ever be treacherous," You said, and you slid his knife back into place before dragging your hand down his thigh. His cock gave a twitch, and your grin told him you knew. "Farewell Ivar."

You slipped back into the water like a needle through silk, and he was only able to catch a glimpse of your tail before you disappeared into the deep.

ooOOoo

Ivar went back to the dilapidated dock every night, and true to your word you would be there waiting in the water. You only approached once he took his place at the end of the pier, and Ivar would keep his legs apart so you would come rest between them. As you spoke of things unimportant, he would weave his hand with yours, playing with your fingers and the thin membrane of webbing. You would return the affections with little pets of your own, and you always left a kiss to the corner of his mouth before parting.

The lock of hair you had given to him was always with him. He had braided it together into a bracelet that he wore everywhere on his wrist. If his brothers thought anything about it, they never voiced such concerns. Ivar presumed they figured he had found his own thrall to be with, and as distracted as they were with Margrethe, they didn't dig further into his affair. His mother had noticed the thing as well, and always she would give it a long stare. Ivar always anticipated her to ask, but she avoided mentioning it as if it were a matter too delicate to speak of.

Ivar wished he could bring you to meet his family if only to brag to his brothers that you had chosen him. But he knew that could never happen. They would fear that you were a deceiver after his life, and his mother would have you killed to keep him safe. She probably would never let him near water again.

"Ivar," You called, clasping both hands on either side of his face. "Your mind is elsewhere tonight."

"Sorry," He said, looking away momentarily. "I just was thinking what it would be like to live our lives together."

"Come with me to the water," You suggested, and you gave a small tug on his arm that scooted him closer to the edge. He almost let you drag him in before he grew hesitant and pushed back.

"I can't swim like this," He said, scowling at you and then his legs.

"I will keep you safe." Ivar searched your face for any deception, but he only saw your smile. "You don't trust me?"

"I do," He said quickly. "But I…"

You heaved yourself upwards on the dock until it was just the tip of your tail whipping strokes in the water. Ivar caught your bare torso against his chest, and he flushed as your breasts pressed up against him. You were practically sharing the same air, noses brushing together as you steadied yourself in his arms. Your eyes met and you breathed a laugh that eased his previous concerns.

"We won't go far. I just want to show you that your legs aren't the burden you think they are."

You weren't pleading, and Ivar was intrigued by your suggestion. He gave you a short nod, and that was all it took for you to wrap your arms around him and haul him down into the depths. Your strength was surprising, but the admiration was banished from his mind the moment the cold water soaked straight through to his blood. He thrashed his arms, grabbing for purchase at imaginary aids that weren't there. When he tried to let out a shout, he swallowed saltwater. The sea was going to take him, just as his mother feared.

No. You were there, and you had never left. Like a spark to wood, Ivar was enveloped in a new warmth, and he floated to the surface with your arms around him. He took his first breath of air, but his throat was raw and he sputtered and choked. Your lips closed over his while he continued to cough, and it was as if you pulled all of the water out from his lungs. He didn't know if it was a real kiss, but he wore a shy grin as you pulled away.

"Breathe," You instructed. "Breathe, and look up at the stars you love."

Ivar first looked back at the shore and realized you had kept your promise. You had only taken him out far enough so his feet wouldn't brush the sandy floor. He then craned his neck up to the sky and found the familiar sight of his stars. They were the same out in the water as they were on land, a comforting thought for when he would one day sail away from home. The sky would always be there.

"Lie back and let the water hold you," You whispered in his ear from behind.

Ivar didn't know when you had maneuvered around to his back, but he continued to put his faith in you as you guided him down gently into the water. He was lying face up with his body floating across the surface weightless and free. You joined beside him, and together you shared in the silent night, bathed in the moonlight with the motion of the sea carrying your bodies. Ivar forgot for a moment about his broken legs. Drifting there beside you, he felt whole.

"You didn't answer me before," He spoke up, and you watched him with curiosity. "About us living our lives together. Is it possible?"

"There are those of my people who have given up the sea's blessing to live on land. Some may even live among your kind, though I doubt you would recognize them."

"How did they do it?" Ivar was sure even the dumbest farmer in Kattegat would have noticed a child of Rán flopping about.

"When my people choose to live a life as a land dweller, they simply have to go ashore. The blessing of the sea will fade, and in place will be a soft and weak human body, " You explained, and you turned your eyes away from him. "But the sea is vengeful and she hates those who leave her waters. Once the blessing fades, we can never return to her currents, or else we would be reduced to nothing more than foam that settles into tide pools."

If you were to be together you would have to give up everything you knew to be with him. Ivar wanted to ask this of you, but he was afraid of your answer. Being a prince as well as his mother's favored son meant he never had to work for anything. What he wanted he got, and always in plenty. If you refused him, he feared the rejection and what his reaction could be. He wasn't beyond forcing you out from the water onto dry land if it meant keeping you for himself. Better to not ask now. It was too early to demand so much from you.

He heard you shift in the water, and you were at his side again while supporting his back with your strong hands. "You don't want to ask me?"

Ivar shook his head. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

"I know you will soon, Ivar. It's in your eyes, they darken with hunger."

"What would you say if I did?"

He let out a shiver as you righted him back into your arms, holding him in your embrace that let him know you were in control. "I would say that you could also give up your life to be with me. Right now, I could take you down there, and you would never again have to worry about dragging yourself upon the land."

The idea of never having to crawl again was tantalizing, something he had always wished for, and yet...even if he was with you, he knew he wouldn't forget all that he would leave behind. He wanted to show his people he could lead and conquer better than any man, even without working legs.

"I couldn't," He murmured.

"Then it is good I did not ask, and nor will you ask it of me. We will take comfort in the joy we have now, and forget everything else."

You met his eyes with your own. Silver, just like the treasures that were brought back over from raids. Ivar refused to fluster under your gaze, even though your peering felt like a piercing dagger. He wanted to appear self-assured, and not as some young lad who needed you to hold him. He pulled you close and planted a clumsy but heartfelt kiss. Your lips were cold but your mouth was warm, and he tried to keep up with your feverish pace as you devoured everything from the kiss.

When you clapped your hands on his cheeks, Ivar could feel himself trembling, and he knew it wasn't because of the kiss. Your mouth left him, and he tried to find your lips again. You placed a finger to his mouth to stop him and gave him a shake of your head. "You are like ice. I've kept you here too long."

"Not long enough," He retorted before sneaking another kiss on you.

You laughed while gently prying him back. "You have your father's confidence."

"Good, maybe you can find out what else of his I have." He gave you his best wolfish grin.

"We'll have our time," You promised, and you secured an arm around him before starting to swim back to shore.

The water seemed to grow colder as you glided through it and by the time you made it back to the pier, Ivar couldn't control his shivering. You urged him up onto the dock, and your concern had made you grow quiet. Ivar didn't mind that you fretted over his well-being, but he missed your smile.

"How will you make it back home?" You asked while looking over him to where the edge of the town was barely visible through the treeline. It was a long way off.

"I've travelled further," Ivar excused, though he had his trepidations. His damp clothes were sticking to him, and his hair felt like grass after the thawing in spring. The cold made his muscles tighten, and he wasn't looking forward to pawing at the ground with stiff hands.

"Go now, while you have the moon's light to guide you."

"When can I see you again?" It was becoming more difficult each time he had to leave you, and his thoughts revolved around when you could be together.

"I'll come back until I feel you no longer wish to see me." You reached your hand out to him, and Ivar took it, bringing it to his chest.

"That will never happen."

What he was saying must have been madness. Maybe you were Rán's daughter, and you had him under a spell. If you did, he didn't care. He would gladly stay under your enchantment. It was a warmth all his own, and a happiness he didn't have to share or contend with his brothers over.

"Goodnight my love." You placed your lips once more on his hand before returning to the sea.

Ivar did not watch after you as he usually would. It was a luxury he couldn't afford. The desperation to get inside by a fire drove him to turn towards home, and he struggled through the terrain as fast as his dragging would get him. He only passed by drunks and stragglers that did not give him a second glance upon realizing who he was. Ragnar's youngest son, the cripple. No one important.

He huffed his way up the stairs of the Great Hall, nudging on the doors with his shoulder until they parted. A low fire was burning in the pit, and his mother was asleep on her throne. She was still all done up from the last meal, and he realized she must have waited up for his return. His guilt propelled him forward, and he went towards her instead of his room. Careful not to wake her, he collapsed on the furs at her feet where sleep found him quickly.

Ivar didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he was startled awake by screaming. It took him a moment to realize it was his voice shouting, and he had jack-knifed into a seated position, clutching at his lower right leg. He knew he had broken a bone, and his mother, who was alert at his side, knew it as well. She called for two able-bodied guards to take him back to his room, out of sight of the thralls who had now gathered. None of his brothers were about, and he was relieved to be spared the humiliation. The weakness of his body during moments like this was only for his mother and the healers.

He was placed down onto the fur-covered palette in his room with one of the guards already off to fetch a healer. His mother was already trying to soothe his agony with her words, and as she brushed the hair on his forward she grew a frown.

"You're burning up," She said, feeling his forehead and then his chest. And your clothes are damp."

He swatted softly at her hand, frustrated with her observations but with never enough ire to cause her any harm. "Go away."

"Ivar, where do you go? All of these nights you leave my sight and no one knows anything about it." She plucked at the bracelet of your hair on his wrist before he jerked it out of her reach. "Who is this woman you see?"

"Get out, please," He begged. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he didn't know if it was from the fever or the pain in his legs.

He was spared any further argument from her when the healer entered with three other thralls to assist. With soft voices, they were able to make her leave, at least until they finished addressing his fracture. Ivar would have felt awful at banishing his mother from his side if he could summon any other thought that wasn't about the hurt he was feeling.

The trek back through Kattegat had proved to be too much, but he didn't regret the night spent with you. In the water under the stars, and in your arms sharing kisses was where he wanted to be. He kept those thoughts in mind as the healer got to work on setting his leg in place, slathering it in a warming salve before wrapping it tightly in bandages.

"My Prince, you will need to stay in bed for the next few days to give the bone time to mend."

He gazed up at the rafters of the ceiling with contempt. How was he supposed to stay put knowing you were out there waiting for him? He couldn’t let the time pass and risk losing you, but he would need help.

"Go and bring me Ubbe," He instructed one of the thralls who shuffled out of the room at his request.

The healer continued to try and force some foul brew down his throat that he cursed her for at every turn of his head. Ivar knew he was notorious for being difficult to treat, but this healer had stuck through the bad times at his side. He admired her tenacity. If the situation was reversed, he would have given up on himself a long time ago.

After he had taken a large enough dose of the revolting stuff, he was left alone. The medicine made his head foggy, and he drifted in and out of consciousness while waiting for Ubbe to arrive. His eldest brother was best suited for the task in mind because he was soft when it came to Ivar's condition. Hvitserk didn't care about his legs either way, and Sigurd made a point to disparage him at every turn so he was definitely out of the running. Ivar guessed they had to all be out to the hunter's cabin. Following the commotion he had caused in the morning, one of them would have heard about it by now if they had been in town. It was nothing new really. He was used to being left behind.

Just as he was about to slip into another fitful bout of sleep, his door was forced open and in came his brother. He looked out of breath from running at least half of the distance back. Poor, gullible Ubbe.

"What happened?"

"The usual," Ivar started to explain as he forced himself to sit up. "Another broken bone."

"Mother says you also have a fever," Ubbe retorted as he took a seat at the end of the palette.

Ivar groaned. He hadn't estimated that his mother would be playing watchdog. "She got to you already?"

"She's worried about you."

"What else is new? She always worries about me," He grunted out as his leg twitched in pain.

"It's not just her this time. We all are concerned. You disappear at late hours and you're always tired. Even Hvitserk has noticed, and haven't you realized that Sigurd no longer says anything to you? For him, that's practically a defeat."

Come to think of it, Ivar couldn't recall the last verbal sparring match he'd shared with his third brother. Had his time with you sapped him of his usual energy?

"I need your help with something."

"Alright," Ubbe agreed with a nod of his head. "What is it?"

"When night falls, I need you to go down to the water. There's an abandoned dock if you follow the shoreline westward. Wait there and call for (Y/N), and tell her what has happened to me."

"Is she the woman who gave you that?" Ubbe asked while indicating to the bracelet on his wrist."

Ivar nodded as he began to twirl the thing around. It meant more to him than an arm ring. It was proof you had chosen him. "She's a daughter of Rán."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see for yourself when you meet her." He smiled something Ubbe couldn't understand.

"Feel better, brother," Ubbe said softly as he made his exit from the room.

Ivar could feel the headiness of the brew still working, as he was pulled into visions of you. Together you danced under the moonlight. He could recall the feeling of working legs even though he'd never had a pair before. You glided with him in his arms, but Ivar could not see if it was feet you stood upon or you had somehow managed to balance on the tip of your tail. The strangeness made him privy to the knowledge it was just a dream, but he allowed himself to be carried away in fantasy regardless.

Sometimes his mother would pop inside to have a check on him. Her long hands caressing his forehead and pushing back his hair made him feel like a boy again. The worry on her face had settled now that he was no longer writhing in pain. They only shared in a handful of words while the healer continued to tend to him. It was their special connection, a bond she did not have with his brothers.

When night came and darkness fell, Ivar sat himself up against the wall and waited for Ubbe to return with word of you. It was the first time in a long line of sneaking away that he didn't escape to go find you. A strange emptiness filled him at the thought, and he rubbed at his eyes to combat the sleep that threatened to take him. He couldn’t miss the update about you because he had fallen asleep.

A thin stream of silver light poked through a cut out in the roof of his room, and he imagined you in the water beneath the stars. He wondered what your reaction would be to learning of his injury. Concern he hoped, and not pity or regret for the night they had shared.

As Ivar's thoughts began to spiral out, he was relieved from further gloom when the door opened. Ubbe had returned, and he had on a perplexed frown that furrowed his brow.

"Well, did you speak with her?" Were the first words out of Ivar's mouth.

Ubbe shut the door behind him before coming further into the room. "I called for (Y/N) and waited on that pier, but no one ever came, Ivar."

He took a moment to juggle that information in his head while Ubbe looked on with worry. You never showed. Had something happened to you? Perhaps you were riddled with guilt about taking him in the water or you had seen Ubbe from a distance but did not approach. That had to be it. His brother was a stranger who did not hear your song as he had.

"I have to go there."

Ivar threw the furs off and started to twist to the side. His broken leg protested the rapid movement, and he grunted through his struggle. Ubbe was already at his side pushing him back. He latched onto his brother's arm and tried to shove him off, but even his upper strength had waned and he ended up flopping back down like a lifeless fish.

"You can't leave this room like that," Ubbe scolded. He took a seat down beside him, preventing him from trying something foolish again. "You'll end up losing that leg entirely."

"What's that matter? I'd be no worse off than I am right down."

Ubbe sighed. "I understand you care about this (Y/N), but I don't believe she would want to see you harm yourself this way."

Ivar knew you wouldn't. That's why he had to see you again and be surrounded by your love. "You could take me there."

"We'd never make it past the throne. Mother has seen fit to have eyes on who comes and leaves your room. I think she is looking for the woman to blame."

"(Y/N) won't come here," Ivar said and he could see the confusion on Ubbe's face, but he didn't elaborate. "I've probably lost her forever now."

"If she truly cares for you, she'll still be there," Ubbe argued, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "When you are well enough, I promise I'll help you back to the dock."

Ivar knew from past experiences that it would take many moons before he'd be fully healed. His eyes closed as angry tears threatened to fall. Why had the gods cursed him with these horrible limbs? The faults of his parents should not have fallen onto him. It was a cruel fate.

When he didn't continue to speak, Ubbe must have assumed he had fallen back asleep. He crept back to the door and exited the room as softly as a mouse scuttles through the kitchen.

Once he was alone, Ivar opened his eyes and took off the bracelet from around his wrist. He held it close to his lips, feeling the silk strands as he kissed the braided band. Maybe you could sense him reaching out. He decided to keep it enclosed in his hand and across his heart. If you were calling out, he would feel you in his sleep.

ooOOoo

In the many days that went by, Ivar became more frustrated with his leg. His broken bone was mending, but not fast enough that he was allowed out of the great hall. The slow progress had him taking out his anger on everyone, and they must have felt as trapped in with him as he was feeling about being locked up.

After a brief appearance to sit down to a meal with their mother, he had not seen his brothers again. This time he could admit he was to blame, and that they made the smart decision to cut and run back to the cabin. He had made the meal as uncomfortable as he could manage out of some need for vengeance. While they were free to run about Kattegat with their thralls, he was stuck in bed with wrinkled healers painting noxious salves on his body. He couldn’t be with you, so he chose to be spiteful.

Even his mother began to show signs of being fed up with him. Her smiles were now close-lipped, and she would linger by the door when she visited to make a hasty exit. He had yelled at her only once, and it had to do with her wanting to leave him just like everyone else. Ivar knew that wasn't true, and the moment she let out an anguished sob he had apologized.

Rather than continue to hurt those around him, he knew what he had to do. His leg was well enough that he could crawl again, and if he secured it tightly in his leather bindings it should protect the bone from any trauma as he moved. He had to get down to the pier himself and find you again. The call from the sea had him more desperate for water than a man dying of thirst. No thrall or guard would dare refuse him, and even his mother would not be able to stop him from going. He was doing this for her as well, even if she wouldn't see it that way. After causing her tears, he wouldn't be the reason for any more of her sorrow.

He needed the light to travel, so he began the trek from his room when the sun had only just begun to kiss the horizon. Much of the activity in the great hall had died down once the last meal had been served, and many of the thralls had already gone off to the barn. His mother was not on her throne. Ivar smirked at his good fortune and made for the doors as fast as he was able. Once he had them nudged shut behind him, he began his descent down the stairs. It was the most difficult part of the journey, guiding his body down feet first so his leg wouldn't bounce on every step down.

By the time he had cleared the treeline, the sun had set further and shadows were popping up in every corner. Ivar was more winded than he would normally be due to being bedridden, and he was mindful that he would have to work on building back the strength he had lost. But none of that mattered now. The dock was in sight. He had made it. He went together well with the solitude of the place, and when he sat perched on the end the creaking boards welcomed him home.

"(Y/N)," Ivar called out while searching for any ripple in the water. The surface remained still as glass, and he frowned while giving your name another shout.

Perhaps it was still too young in the day. He waited for the complete pitch of night to hit while letting his mind run wild with all the things he wanted to tell you about. It would be like a reunion of two lovers, and he couldn't fathom how one could be separated from their woman while gone on raids. Of course, his mother and father detested one another's presence, so it must have come as a balm to be away from one another.

The clouds parted from the moon, and one by one the stars surfaced in the sky. He called for you again, then held his breath to listen for any break in the water. Instead, he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him, and over his shoulder, he saw Ubbe approaching.

"I figured you would try coming back soon," Ubbe said once he stood at his side. "How's the leg?"

"Stiff," He replied tersely. "What do you want?"

Ubbe took an uninvited seat beside him which caused Ivar to shift over. There wasn't nearly enough room at the edge of the dock for both of them, and the wood groaned with the added weight.

"I never told you, but I've been coming back here every night after you sent me to search for (Y/N)."

Ivar frowned. "Why?"

"Because I saw how important it was to you to get that message to her, and I wanted to help. I might not be able to take away your pain, but I will still be your legs where I can."

Ivar looked at his lap as the heat built up in his face. He never knew how to take to his eldest brother's kindness. None of the rest of them had it, but from Bjorn's mouth, it was said that he inherited it from Ragnar.

"She never came back, did she?"

Ubbe shook his head. "She must only come for you."

"I don't think so," Ivar said as he looked out at the water. "It's been too long, and I've missed my chance. I don't think she'll come back."

"If she cares for you as you do her, I'm certain she'll be back."

Ubbe's words floated off him as he gazed down at the black water. He was struck with an irrational idea to force your hand if you were near. Before his brother could react, Ivar threw himself off the dock and into the water. It wasn't deep this close to shore, but it was enough that he began to sink. Ubbe was quick to follow, and Ivar tried in vain to bat away his saving hands. He was so desperate to have you come back that he would risk drowning. What a fool.

"Idiot," Ubbe cursed as he dragged them both up onto the sand. "What were you trying to do?"

Ivar turned his head away as he coughed up water. He felt embarrassed by what he'd just done and angry that it didn't earn him anything more than soaked clothes. "You wouldn't understand."

"I don't understand, and you won't help me to," Ubbe said, and his tone lightened from annoyance to mild irritation. "I need my little brother back. The one who's smarter than me at every turn, and doesn't make me fish him out of the sea."

Ivar started to laugh. It began in a quiet snicker and grew deep from his belly until Ubbe joined him. Neither of them knew what the humor was in the situation, but Ivar felt it was better to give in to the urge. He wanted to forget you weren't there, and giggling like a child with his brother in the sand was a good way to accomplish that.

"Should we head back?"

Ivar gave his leg a tug with his hand. "The bandage has soaked through and is starting to fall off. Guess I'd better have it looked at."

Ubbe crouched down beside him and indicated for him to climb up on his back. "C'mon, it'll be faster."

For once Ivar didn't argue. He couldn’t benefit from another disagreement, and he didn't want to be in wet clothes longer than he had to. Ubbe or Floki were the two he trusted most to support him. Hvitserk had dropped him one time, and he refused to let that happen twice. Sigurd never offered.

Once he was secured up to Ubbe's height, they started back home. He chanced one last look over his shoulder for as long as the water was in sight, clinging to the idea that you would spring up from the depths. The only movement out there came from the wind and the tide.

Neither brother spoke another word, but Ivar suspected Ubbe knew he had taken that last glance. How could he not? He wasn't ready to give up on you or accept the idea that you had abandoned him. Thoughts of you being in harm came to him, and he to banish those away because of the helpless feeling they gave him. You were a daughter of Rán, and the sea couldn't hurt you. Repeating it enough times had to make it true. As they journeyed through the night back to Kattegat, Ivar clung to the hope of seeing you again, and his thoughts warmed him up and dulled the pain until he found rest.

ooOOoo

Time passed by for Ivar and the pain in his legs dulled back into its usual ache. With his bone mended he could return to training with his brothers, and hunting up by the cabin. While his physical injury may have healed, it was not so for the throbbing in his heart. He had gone for sparse visits to the abandoned dock again, with each ending in the same sorrow until he had decided to give up going back. What's more, your bracelet that he had never let out of reach had vanished one day. Perhaps you had never been real, and he had dreamed you up.

What more could the gods take from him? First, it was his legs, then his father, and recently he was drifting from his brothers due to their infatuation with Margrethe. It was his mother he looked to as his constant, but she had grown distracted by visions. It was now common practice for her to disappear to her room after the last meal, when not so long ago she would be the last to leave with a chalice of wine. All of this left Ivar alone, and his thoughts had become unbearable. He needed something to dull the noise, a distraction.

More than anything Ivar longed to keep up with his brothers, and that's when he decided he wanted to fuck a woman. He approached Ubbe with the request to convince Margrethe. She had a pleasant face, and she didn't resemble you. If she had taken three of the other sons of Ragnar, he should be no different. Ubbe appeared torn when he first asked but did agree, and Margrethe was hardly in a position to refuse.

Now that the moment was approaching, and he was being brought over to the cabin by boat, he wondered if he would be the one to refuse. From what he'd always seen, men loved to hump a beautiful woman. It's what led to his parents' affair and marriage. So what was wrong with him that as he grew closer to the destination he felt ill? Ubbe certainly wasn't sharing the sentiment. He wore a dumb grin and was humming an old song to himself.

"You're happy I'm about to lay with your woman?" Ivar asked.

Ubbe laughed. "Margrethe isn't my woman, she's still a thrall. But I am happy because this is a good day for you, brother."

The day is still young, Ivar thought with a bitterness that was ingrained in his bones. Was sex such a powerful thing that it would shift who he became? Other than to have children, Ivar never dwelled on the matter. He'd never had a lover, and the closest he had come to obtain such a relationship was with you.

The boated jilted back and forth as it hit shallow water. Ubbe tied off by a tree before coming to fetch him. He was to be carried by his brother to his first tryst with a woman. Not nearly as humiliating as crawling he supposed, but the difference was negligible.

As they passed through the threshold of the abandoned cabin, Ivar stole a look around the place. It smelt like fire and driftwood, and there was a bed that had been piled thick with furs. The flame burning in the hearth let him know that Margrethe was already there.

Ubbe deposited him down on the bed and turned to get a look at him. "I'll leave now so you can be ready for her. Relax and enjoy yourself."

Ivar swallowed. That was easy for any of his brothers, they all had working parts. A handful of times he had felt his prick twitch and stiffen, but it was never a long event and he had never dared to try to take himself in hand. It was silly, but he was afraid of his cock.

He began to disrobe with haste, not wanting Margrethe to walk in on him without his trousers and his legs exposed. Once he was free of his garments he threw the heavy furs over himself and clutched them at his waist. All he could hear was his heart pounding, and he kept his chin tucked into his chest, straining to listen for the woman in the cabin.

She came to him from behind in light, cautious steps. Perhaps she was nervous, or his trepidations had seeped into the air and spoiled the mood. Ivar resisted the urge to peek until she stood at the side of the bed. When he glanced up he saw that she wore a fisherman's net as a veil. Her features were distorted, but he could make out the subtle difference that alluded to her being anyone other than Margrethe.

"(Y/N)?" He whispered and hoped.

You lifted back the thin mesh from your face, and you put on a dazzling smile. Ivar had never seen a better sight, not the first sacrifice of spring or the storms of Thor could hold a candle up to you. You donned a crisp white gown that was cinched at the waist with a strap of brown leather, and your hair was a wild tangle of waves. He had never seen you without your sodden tresses.

You took your first step to come closer, but you lost your balance and fell onto the bed in his awaiting arms. This was where you belonged.

"Shit," You cursed, pulling back enough to look him in the eye. "I was supposed to be beautiful and graceful, but these legs are too light. If I run fast enough, I'm sure I could soar like a bird."

"You have legs?" Ivar exclaimed while pulling you onto the bed beside him with all of the strength he could summon. "Let me see."

You swung your legs across his lap, careful not to rest any weight on his thighs. He hitched the skirt of your dress up to your thighs, exposing the new flesh. His hands didn't know where to touch first. This must be the work of the gods. In place of your magnificent tail were two gorgeous limbs that he was happy to smooth his hands over. You wiggled your toes, content to observe Ivar as he studied you.

"How is this possible?"

"I told you my people can choose to abandon the sea. Now I'm a soft creature like you," You said while giving his arm a playful squeeze.

He caught your hands before you could pull away and placed a kiss on each of them. They no longer had the webbing or claws, but there was a strength to them that he could feel under your touch. "Where did you go? I tried so many times to find you, and I even sent my brother."

"You had your life up here, and I had mine below," You said as your eyes grew vacant. "When I did return to the surface, I could no longer find you. All of these things left unsaid caused us to miss each other."

"Then why are you here now, like this?"

You reached for his wrist, finding it bare. Ivar knew what you searched for. "You no longer have my precious gift. Did you think I turned treacherous?"

"I misplaced it. I would never have thrown it away, even if I thought you'd left me."

"I know," You said as you ran a hand down his bare chest and over his heart. "You were in more pain than I understood that night. The blue in your eyes."

Ivar tensed. "How did you learn about that?"

"Your mother told me."

"My mother…" Ivar knew his mouth was hanging open in question, and he snapped it shut to regain composure.

"She found your bracelet. It was her voice I could hear beckoning me to the land. She must be a powerful woman to do such a thing."

You didn't have any animosity in your voice, but Ivar couldn't help but feel angry for you. His mother had taken your life from the sea by force. He had considered the heinous deed himself for a time, but he would have never risked your resentment. What if that came to pass now that the unthinkable had happened?

Ivar couldn't keep himself from looking at you now. He wouldn't let you go a second time. "She said the sea will take me. Perhaps you are meant to stop that from happening."

"Or maybe I am the sea," You said, shifting your hips as you hovered over his lap. With a firm shove you had him down flat on the furs, and he nearly lost his air as your thighs squeezed at his waist. "Come to take you myself because I couldn't stand the thought of that Margrethe touching you."

And then Ivar realized...Ubbe had known he was taking him to you. You had been on land long enough to learn to walk and find out about his pathetic setup with the thrall. His face flushed and he turned his head to the side before feeling your fingers grasp his chin. You tilted his face back around, and he saw only tenderness.

"I know the weariness from being alone. My heart has been there as well."

"You'll stay?" Ivar knew he sounded a touch petulant, but he did not want to suffer another morning with you vanishing.

"Until the gods bring you home and the sea turns me to froth, I will remain by your side, Ivar Ragnarsson."

He didn't know who's lips touched first, but when your mouths connected, it was like being awash on the deck of a ship. You were a cool drink of water with the tang of salt, and Ivar threaded his hands through your hair. The more his hold tightened, the more it pulled him in like reeds in a marsh.

You withdrew slowly, and you held his gaze, even when he wanted to look away from the thrill of what you'd just done. With careful hands, you shed the veil from your head, and then the dress, all collecting into one pile on the floor with his garments. You were naked before him. All of your scales were gone in place of smooth flesh and pleasing curves. Ivar knew he was gaping at your breasts, how they rose and fell with each rapid breath you took. As you gave a coy grin, you peeled back one corner of the furs and slithered your way in beside him. You pressed up against his side, and his body went taut as you tangled your legs with his.

"Is this alright?" You asked while your toes brushed up and down his shin.

"Yes," He said as a puff of air escaped him.

It was stifling hot under the covers, and your hand seemed to sear his flesh as you dragged it up to his thigh. Your fingers just teased next to cock before brushing up his abdomen. Ivar shifted, his hand reaching yours to halt your motions.

Your eyes flashed to his, and you smiled with patience. "Tell me what you want."

"I…" He paused, unable to form the words, and he could feel himself losing his nerve. With a tighter grasp, he took control of your hand and brought it back down to his half-hard prick. "I just want you."

"You have me," You murmured back as your hand began to fondle his shaft. He continued to grow in your hand, and Ivar let his eyes roll back at the feeling of you working him. His cock had never been so stiff, and his free hand clutched at the furs as he tried to recognize everything he was feeling. Fluid was beginning to bead out at his tip, and he struggled to push you back.

"S-stop," He sputtered.

You pulled back with a shy expression, and you were breathing just as hard as he was. You enjoyed what you could do to him. "Are you alright?"

Ivar bobbed his head, not sure if he agreed or not with your question. "I was losing control too soon, and I haven't even touched you yet."

"Is that all?" You rolled yourself on top of him, pushing back the furs while the cold air of the room pebbled your nipples. Ivar looked up at you in awe. "Touch me then."

Your slick center was rubbing on the base of his shaft now pressed up against his stomach, and he could feel his hips give a few practiced ruts. He saw the flash of delight in your eyes, and you hummed out a moan that was as long as a horn that bellowed in war.

"I'm still adjusting to this new body," You panted. "I've never felt like this before."

Ivar felt a strong sense of pride for bringing you these new experiences along with him. Even though he lacked the skill, he had a newfound confidence that had him reaching for you. His hands felt rough and clumsy against your untouched skin, squeezing and pawing to see how much pressure to apply and where. Your breasts were soft and pliable while your backside was firm and rounded, and you leaned further into him as he grasped onto your cheeks. You placed a wet kiss in the hollow of his throat that had him moaning. He wondered if you could hear his heart racing.

"Please," He choked. "I need to feel you."

Your hand reached down between your bodies, and you pulled back to watch his face as you clutched his cock. Lining it up with your slippery center, you brought your cunt down to the hilt. Ivar was under no delusions that he would last long or immediately be worthy of infamy in bed like his brothers, but being surrounded by your wet heat, he thought he'd cum right then. As you sat up straight to readjust, he let out a gasp. You did too, only when his eyes cracked open to get a look at you, your eyes were shut and your face was screwed up in pain.

"What's wrong?"

"Is it supposed to hurt like this?" You whimpered, hands grabbing at his chest. It seemed everything about your human body was new.

"For human women, it does the first time." He wrapped his arms around you and spun you down onto the bed with himself still connected between your legs. It would be difficult for him to manage this way long, but it would be better for you this time. "I've got you."

Your eyes were blurry from unshed tears, but he could feel you relax in his arms as he began to set a slow pace. On the first withdrawal of his cock he could see a small amount of blood seep out which he regretted feeling thrilled about. You were his now, and he was yours.

The strength in your legs was unmatched, and as you grew more comfortable you squeezed at his waist with your knees. He knew his end was already in sight from the tightening in his balls and the burning in his gut. You had thrown your head back, hair tousled and mouth open to show your sharp teeth. It was the only telltale sign that you weren't a human, and he bought his lips down on yours to explore the fangs with his tongue. You teased back with little nips, and you gave a harsh tug on his hair that separated him from the sloppy kiss.

"Fuck," He breathed out, and his hips began to lose rhythm. "I can't go much longer."

You ran a hand meant to soothe down his back, but it only spurred him on. His hips snapped at a frenzied pace with his thighs smacking against yours. Nothing could stop him chasing the feeling of his release, and with a few more pumps he felt himself empty deep inside you with a profane groan. All of the strain he'd put on his arms to keep from balancing on his legs gave out, and he collapsed on top of you. Your hot skin stuck to his, and he could feel you twitch beneath him.

"Sorry," He whispered embarrassedly. He rolled off of you and his cock made a wet pop as it slipped out from your folds. "You didn't get to finish."

You rolled onto your side to look at him, still breathing fast and on the precipice of your release. "Forget that. This was about you getting to enjoy me tonight."

Ivar shook his head as he turned into you. "But I want you to enjoy me as well."

His hand dove for your core, chubby fingers fumbling around in your wet pussy that was now a mix of your blood and his cum. This was the first time he had felt a woman's warmth, and he watched your reaction as he felt around your lips and the tiny bud at the top. When he stroked over it with his thumb your legs jerked and you whined. He continued to swirl his digit around the nub while experimenting with varying degrees of pressure. You were now experiencing his love for you, and he could read what you enjoyed most with how expressive you were with your body. He settled into a comfortable pattern, and your hand shot down to join his when he hit a perfect cadence.

"Yes...there," You cried.

Ivar plunged his longest finger into your depths as you began to wither and shake. He could feel your pussy clamp down on him as you came, and he knew he wanted to feel that on his cock next time. Your eyes blinked rapidly as you started to calm, and he withdrew his hand, only to bring it to his mouth for a taste. You watched him in rapt attention.

"A warrior tastes the blood of his enemies in battle, so should he not also taste his lover's in bed?"

You brought your hands back together with his and pulled yourself against his chest. "If the gods willed it, then let it be so."

You laid in silence together, and Ivar felt your little puffs of air even out as you fell asleep. He pulled a fur over the both of you, the fire had long gone low and the night air colder. Indeed the gods must have willed it. Ivar now knew he was favored by the gods above all other sons of Ragnar. You were a daughter of Rán, and you had chosen him. His mother knew it as well, or else she wouldn't have summoned you back into his arms. In his heart, he had already forgiven her for taking the bracelet.

The sea had come to take him, and he had gone willingly into the mouth of the current. It was comfortable there, like a never-ending waterfall over rocks beating him down onto your altar. You opened it up and took him in, and now you were both drenched.

The cabin grew cold and black, and Ivar went to sleep beside you that night with the comfort that the stars still shined overhead, and that when dawn came he would not have to face another day without you.

Taglist

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@peachyboneless

@didiintheblog

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@katfett

#ivar x reader #ivar x you #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings #history vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar smut #ivar ragnarsson #ivar angst #vikings imagine #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok

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moonwalker750 · 3 years ago

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I have seen some canons, where Erestor is Maglor or related/close confidante to a Feanorian. An awkward way to introduce yourself after War of Wrath, no doubt.

But it got me thinking, what if his background was even more headache inducing. So, ladies and gentleman, my take: Erestor is Elurid &Elurin.

Hear me out- the twins were left to die in wood and, we know, Maedhros went after them. He went there to save them, but, to twins, he was their enemy. The person who burned their home. Who killed their parents. Who was probably coming to kill them or keep them hostage for getting Silmaril. So they hid away from him and Maedhros did not find them.

And for the rest, it was that. After all, how could two young princes survive the hardship of life outside their comfort of palace? At best, they would die out of hunger or harsh environment and at worst, the orcs would find them. They were right, too.

They survived for few days. But they were children. Princes, at that. They have bevy of servants and maids taking care of them. They were provided with the best of the best. Food. Clothing. Tutelage.

They were not accustomed to these hardships. To forage for their food. To survive alone in woods. To watch out for Morgoth's servants. And soon they were out of luck.

Tired. Hungry. Hopeless. They fell in the path of a hunting party. Summoning the last dregs of energy, they tried to run away. To sing them away. (Music is a weapon on itself, for elves.) But they were children. Their efforts were futile.

That day, the hunting party left two dead elfings in their wake.

Now, normally, when elves die, they go to Mandos and men to their own version of afterlife. An easy to understand system. But, with Luthien's descendants, it is a bit difficult to say, how much of them is Man or Elf. But that is for another times.

At times, some elven spirits reject the call of Mandos and wander the Arda. (It was written in one of the books. I think. Idk, what really happens after that.)With time, they start loosing their sense of self. They become ghosts or spirits with not memory.

Elurid and Elurin never went to either of the afterlives. Not because they rejected, but they never felt their calling. To either Mandos or wherever men go after death. So, in that forest, their spirit dwelled for a period of time. It was not for long.

Even without realizing, they started making an elven body for themselves. (Just as Maia of Lorien do it for reborn elves.) The way to fashion a body of Elda was within their grasp. In their mind, soul and song. A feeling of deja vu. As if death revealed a part of song that eluded them before. Made the chorus rise up their throat. Made their spirits walk. It felt as if they had known this forever, but now it is within their grasp. Perhaps, Melian took pity upon them and gave them this kernel of knowledge or it was something they just knew because of their heritage. Who knows.

So they, fashioned a body. With nature, with their song and their Fëa. They could not make a vessel out of nothing. They were not Vala. They may be of Mairan descent, but they were too young. To inexperienced. Thus they needed substitutes to turn into body parts. Sometimes, it took months to find a perfect substitute. To travels miles before they found the part that felt right. That called to their soul.

Discarded weapons from fallen Doriath for their bones. Water of pond deep in the earth became their blood. Webs of Ungoliant's brood made their hair.

They plucked the freshest of leaves to stitch themselves a skin and walked the shores of Balar for seashells to fashion nails and teeth.

They scavenged the dead stag's and deer's for muscles and bound them together with the roots given by ancient trees of Nan Emloth.

For eyes, they walked in the palace of the hidden Gondolin. They could give us this much, the twins reasoned. For vision, they weaved strands of sunlight around the gems.

The heart was difficult. They stumbled upon a dying elf warrior in red, they sat beside her and listened to her tale spoken between bubbling gasps. And asked if they could have her heart as she does not need it anymore? For your kindness, she said with her last breath.

For lungs they wove vines and flowers from the hidden gardens of Silvan Elves. They wrapped it around the heart and ribs. The vines stretched upward their throat, around and unknown musical instrument they found in Daeron's abandoned quarters.

They dived in deep sea to find hollow tubes for vessels, honeycomb for brain, and spools of mithril weaving inside and outside for nerves.

For intestines and blood vessels, they swam to the dark of ocean and took hollow tubes out of the body of deep sea creatures.

It took them years to travel, to find, to make a Hroa, sufficient enough for their spirit. They traveled and saw the world. They learned and grew up. But time was near and they felt it. Their sister was gone. And something big was coming.

But only one was ready. And they were too restless. The unhoused body called to their anchorless spirits. They thought how bad it could be? All their lives, they have shared everything. A womb, a childhood, days they spent looking through each other's eyes, happiness and agony and death. What does it matter, if they shared a body too? (So two fea inhabited a hroa.)

It was bad. They were too uncoordinated and unused of a body this big. They had forgotten how to be corporal. They stumbled upon legs as weak as a newborn fawn. Their eyes hurt from looking all around them. And their mind was a cacophony of senses and thoughts. But they did it. And they could learn to dwell together in a body too.

Soon they learned to coexist in a body. They learned its control. Get accustomed to their senses and to each other. They also learned that their body was far too different from elves they have observed. Oh, it looked like them and was just like them. But there were differences.

Their eyes looked a bit too much like stones from certain angles, one was a shade lighter than other and they glowed like elves from Aman. Their joints could rotate in a way that they were sure normally should not. Their blood ran too thin, like water. Their hair did not have the texture as same as others. Too thin strands and too light in weight. If they pressed their skin, they could trace the leaves. Their body was not as light as it ought to be. They decided to leave it be. The difference were minor and could be overlooked.

They thought where to go now, so they simply traveled in hopes to find a way. They wandered near human settlements, helping them and learning by watching them. They were good at it. They practiced what they had seen as spirit. The trees brought them the rumor of a war incoming.

So one day, they showed upon Cirdan's doorstep. For he was known to them. And introduced themselves as Erestor. They were not, could not be, heirs or remembrance anymore. Elurid thought it was a humorous name. And the rest was history.

[A/N]: Just an idea that I decided too post. I have no idea wth I've written, except, it all came by itself. Enjoy!

#elurid #elurin #tolkein #tolkien #erestor #identity #silamrillion #lord of the rings #maia #melian #body dysmorphia

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years ago

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The Deal Part Three

Summary: august doesn't know how to lose.

Warnings: Adult Situations +18, Slight Smut, Mentioned Threesomes, M/M, M/F/M, poly relationship, Toys, Seduction, Dom Sub, BDSM, Praise Kink, Swearing.

August hummed running a finger back and forth on the rim of his glass as he watched the screen,you were on the bed rocking onto your new toy like crazy.

"She really does this everyday?" Clark asked from beside him with a frown, but august could see the kid was turned on, licking and biting his lip as you fucked yourself desperately with your new vibrator.

"Everyday, for a week now..." august hummed twisting his chair to and fro flicking his gaze from the subby on screen to the soon to be sub sat beside him.

"... am i? Am i not enough?" Clark asked tentatively blinking at agaust in a way that made the agent smile smugly.

"Its not that kid, shes gone without playing our game for soo long she forgot how addictive it is, how much she needs it" he explained.

"Needs? Have... i mean shes missed it?" Clark uttered feeling less confident in his ability to satisfy you by the second.

"Probably not, well not untill our little experiment"

"Why?" Clark asked still not understanding

"Being a sub is... more then just sex, subs need to submit its therapeutic for them... when in a scene they just let themselves go, all worry and stress disappear. All they need to do is live in the moment and obey" august began slowly as he stopped swaying his chair and faced clark head on pinning him with a look.

It was there, the curiosity. Good. Its what he hoped for, it was why he'd called clark there to 'catch up'

It was time to make his move, top the man of steel whilst having you making your own little porno in the background to help things along.

"So she cant truly relax without it?" Clark muttered still unaware of the agents motives.

"In a sense yes. She craves being dominated, its as natural to her as being a goody two shoes is for you" august purred placing his drink on the glass computer table fendingnoff a smirk as clark took the bait.

"Hey! Im not a goody two shoes-" the kryptonian grunted offended.

But august was prepared, he'd planned this meeting meticulously and his anwser rolled off his tongue with a laugh.

"Your thirty five years old and have absolutly no run ins with the law, no parking fines no speeding tickets hell you never even had a single detention in your entire shcool life! Or have you handed in an assignment or book report in late"

"But i killed a man- i took a life" clark tried to argue but was waed off with another laugh.

"Zod was no man, he was a fucking alien... no offence, you took a life to save billions... so its not really making you a badass"

"Lazer vision is pretty badass..." clark huffed slumping back in his seat now looking like a classic putig brat.

"Oh? Is my litttle clark sulking?" August cooed gravely voice making clark pause at the sultry tone... he must be hearing things.

"Im not sulking! And im not your anything!" Clark growled snapping at the agent.

"Behave yourself!" August growled leveling him with a look, and couldnt help smirk again as clark shut himself up and flushed.

Your desperate cries called out over the moniter as you rutting onto the toy the wet sounds adding to the scene.

Clark flushed finalky turning away from august making the agent preen. Oh he had him in the palm of his hand already~

"Good boy. You are arent you? A very good boy clark- the best" august purred leaning forward gazing at the younger man with a cheshire grin, that only grew wider as clark flushed brighter and shuddered.

"I.. err well yes" clark panted shiftingnin his seat tryingmto keep his eyes on the screen as you wailed and yelped trying to draw out a climax.

"Oh whats this? Your going all shy on me? Tell me is it because i called you a good boy~ do you like praise clark?" Augusut grinned leaning closer still to the now frozen younger male

"N-no its err... i should go-" clark started shuffljng backwards needing to get out of here, because it was true. He loved praise especially in the bedroom, he loved being told how good he was.

August purringnat him whilst he eyes were fixed on you rollingnaroundnin bed toying yourslef into a sexual frenzie was... making him think of thingsnhe probably shouldnt.

"No. Sit, stay... thats it, theres nothing to be embarrassed about, many powerful men enjoy being praised" August growled latching onto clarks arms holding them to the arms of the seat.

"Being taken care of, told what to do~" august purred standing befor the mighty man of steel leaning close to his face.

Clark gulped but didnt move back, he didnt pull away like he should have.

Instead he eyed augusts lips, clark had the overwhelming urge to.aste them.

It confused him, he'd never ever dabbled in same sex relationships, never experimented. Never shared a woman with another before that fatefull night.

But for some reason august was apealing, drawing clark in. August was apble to overpower him, not physically but he commanded obedience.

August held a dangerous cocksure demeanor that clark rarely saw.

"Is that what you want? Clark~ do you want to be controlled and praised just once? More then once?" August hummed dippjng closer and closer, clark couldnt help tipp his head up.

"Y/n is always such a brat. Just look at her, desperately trying to fuck herself into a coma, despite knowing we hadnt allowed her to touch her pussy" august pulled the pffice chair clark was sat in to closer to him, making the kryptonian drown in his scent, the cologne and sweet arousal that was alreading sworling arohnd him.

Clark swallowed dryly, unsure what was happeningnto him, the sounds of yu moaning a crying ot so sweetly, the praise and authority radiating off august in waves.

It was the same dominant aura and comanding deep voice that had made crks cock twitch in both threesomes they had indulged.

Clark had tried denying it at the time, convincing himslef he was cuaght up in the erotic forbidden act. It was just a thrill of the moment thing. It didnt bmean he wanted the older dominating alpha male and all his bravado.

August grinned shifting forward again filling clarks vision, for a human auguast was large, almost as large as he was.

"Sure she'll listen when she feels like it but... I can't help thinking she needs a role model..." clark hummed absentmidely nodding agreeing falling further into his own haze.

"Someone else to show her how she should behave... someone who will get rewarded for being soo good... maybe a good boy?" August purred finally taking the plunge and weaving jis way around the man. His words coiling around the younger male ensnareing him in his carefully constructed web of teasing words.

Clakr gasped as his chin was captured by the agent forcing him to look him in the eye.

"Would you like that clark? Do you want to be not just a good boy, but my good boy-our good boy?" The words hung in the air, winding the man of steel.

"W-what?" He stuttered tryingnto fathom what the older man meant. But couldnt deny the excitment in his gut.

Did he mean it? Would he really include clark in this kink? Make it official and let these forbidden threesomes continue?

"Oh dont play coy, i know what your thinking~ its natural to be curious, just think we could all be one~" august whispered movjng his thumb over clarks bottom lip.

"We could all play together and all get what we need." He purred smirking as clark gave all the right signs, eyes wide, pupils blown wide shifting in his seat as he cock rose, curtesy of both his praise and the loud wanton moans from you bringing yourslef to the edge of rapture yet again.

"You get the praise and love of a little brat, and a strict dom, y/n gets a role model, a dom and keeps her life partner" august listed shifting on his feet again reeling clark in with low coos full of promise.

The agent curled his hand, cupping clarks cheek coaxing him closer luring his face closer.

"A-And you?" Clark dared to utter, feeling both excited, anxious and overwhelmed, he wanted nothing but to jump at the chance, but was frightened at the same time.

He would admit he'd been a little jealous of all the praise you'd got from august in both encounters.

Closingnhis eyes imagining it was him! That the older influential man had been calljng him a good boy, had been teling him how impressed he was, how proud he was!

Clark was embarrassed and had quickly shook away the desperate thoughts. He wasnt gay, why would he have such thoughts?

He summarised he was just too needy and had gone without. You told him how brilliant and big he was, how sexy and strong and fantastic he is in the bedroom but... with august it was different.

The older male praised down at him! Cooing and fussing at him in a different way. Treated him like a sub and clark liked it. Probably too mucn.

"I get the little brat i've been missing and a very very good boy"

"So what do you say, do you want to let go? Be free and experience things you'd only dreamt of?" August preened keeping clarks attention fixed on him asmhe manipulated him, august had noticed clark had a praise kink.

A weakness. A need who was august to pass up useing the little kink to get the subby he wanted~

"I...I'm..." clark hesitated looking passed august to you on the screen who was digging around beside your bed looking for something.

"All you have to do is say the words clark, just say yes sir and you can have all the pleasure and praise you could ever hope for~ both you and y/n we could make this permanent"

"See look? Just watch, y/n needs her dom, needs to be tamed again we could do it clark... you can show her how to be good again~" august breathed over clarks cheek side steppjng him to reveal the screen.

And clark did look, groaning as he saw that you had rolled over and was straddling a different suction cup dildo stuck to a little hand mirror face up on the bed slapping your own ass as you bounced frantically.

"Just say those words and we can help her together" august hummed into his ear like the devil on his shoulder, tempting him

Clark gasped feeling augusts breath on his neck, his wisters ghosting the delicat skin.

Then in a bold move the older man pressed a soft feather light kiss to the kryptonian's neck.

And it worked

"I... y-yes, can we? Please sir" clark breathed out stuttering and jumbling his words unable to hold back his pleading.

"Good boy clark~ such a good seet boy you are~ i knew it, knew youd be brave enough, you've made me soo proud" august showered him with praise biting off a victorious grin.

Clark mewled closingnhis eyes for a second beaming a smile feeling this strange relaxation take over, suddenly he felt free, and small.

It was a feeling he craved, being the strongest all the time was a heavy burden to bare, now he could feel powerless for once.

August chuckled and pressed another kiss to clark this time on his cheek making the younger male's cheeks glow.

August couldnt get enough, the power trip of having the man of steel under his command was far to intoxicating.

"Now why dont you go get our little brat and we can tie her up and show her that good subby's get rewards" august prompted him stepping around clark completely letti g himstand up.

Clark nodded and shot off out onto the balcony and leapt into the sky eagwr to please his new dom and do as he was told.

August took his seat agin wrappjng his fingers around his glass of scotch and raised the glass to the screen that now had both his subs onscreen, as clark wrangled you into his arms wrapping the bedsheet arohnd you.

"Mission accomplished" he hummed smirking as clark wrapped you in your soiled bedsheet before you both disappeared off screen.

He stood and knocked back the last of his drink and padded across the pent house heading to the play room just as he heard both of hos little subs land and enter his home.

#henry cavill #clark kent x you #clark kent x August Walker #august walker #clark kent #august walker x you #august walker x y/n #clark kent x y/n #august walker x clark kent x y/n #oh for fic sake headcannon

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glitter-garbage · 3 years ago

Text

12. — thread

Shadowgast, ~1600 words, gen, red thread of destiny, soulmate au (spoilers for the eiselcross arc)

Sent by @quinn-of-aebradore 💜 ...ps: this is not edited at all (one word writing prompts: send me one and a pairing if you like. I might fill them some day!) ---

When Bren learned he had magic, he also learned that he could see things that not everyone did. It wasn’t natural, he had to focus, and later on, he even found out there was an actual spell for it. Still, on more than one occasion growing up, Bren would see the delicate red threads that connected people around him.

“Those mean whoever is connected to you is your soulmate,” his mother explained, “Can you see mine?”

And, sure enough, his mother had a little thread connecting her ankle to Leofric’s. He longed for his own thread to appear, though his mother explained that not everyone had one.

Bren didn’t have to worry, though. He was only fifteen when not one, but two threads connected his ankle to his best friends of all people. By that time, he had already been whisked away to the Academy along with them and the experiences they shared, the successes, the pain, the power, all of that just cemented their connection in his mind.

Until he broke, that is.

After the fire came the Sanatorium, and for eleven years Bren, now Caleb, did not think about that again. Only when he got out did he notice that his ankle was free. Nothing connected him to anyone anymore. It was okay, he was a garbage person. He didn’t deserve love like that anyway.

---

Nott had a red thread. It vanished out to the horizon, and Caleb never saw the thread move in a way that indicated that her soulmate was closer. He wondered if she knew, for a while. Then, he learned the truth. Veth’s soulmate, her husband, kidnapped, imprisoned. He was happy she had met him though, and confident they'd free him. She deserved happiness, he would help her in any way he could.

Two couples in his little group had threads connecting them to each other from the start. Fate worked in mysterious ways, Caleb thought. Beau and Yasha did not seem that close, though Beau’s attraction was obvious, and cringe-worthy at times, but Caleb was sure things would go well for them in the future. Jester and Fjord’s thread almost made his heart break- he had allowed himself to get way too attached to the two, but neither of them were for him, obviously. Destiny had other plans.

Molly did not have any threads, like him. After learning about his past, Caleb wondered if he had gone through something similar to Caleb, the snapping of a thread after a traumatic event. He allowed himself to grow closer to the tiefling tentatively, allowed feelings to bloom slowly. Molly was warm to him, and he thought perhaps it was another form of destiny that would tie them together.

That had been a mistake.

The last one to join their family was Caduceus. He had no thread too, and Caleb had no curiosity about it anymore. His interest in destiny had all but faded.

He loved his friends. He had friends. That was enough, for someone like him.

---

“The Luxon is the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us and to carve our own fates, choose our own paths and sidestep these destinies placed upon us nonchalantly by gods that use us as playthings.”

The Shadowhand was interesting. Dangerous, powerful, enticing. Caleb considered what he said about freedom from destiny, the ability to find your own way. He had certainly strayed from his path, but perhaps that was not the worst thing.

Essek Thelyss, too, had no thread attached to him.

Perhaps because Caleb was no longer obsessing over what destiny had in store for him, perhaps because he was beginning to accept that his own imperfect path was better than the one that had been set for him, Caleb felt empathy towards the drow even after he had betrayed them.

They were so much alike, and Caleb kept his heart more closely guarded now. He did not feel his heart breaking when they learned of Essek's schemes, and that too helped. In any case, he did not see Essek again for a long time. Did not think much about him. There was too much on his plate for that.

---

Astrid smiled at him from across a dinner table and his stomach dropped. Caleb felt the wheels of time turning, felt again like Bren, determined and ambitious and blind to the truth. Eadwulf looked at him with a raised chin, a smirk on his face. He too remained handsome, impossibly so.

When they walked out of Ikithon’s tower, Caleb could make out the thin red thread that still connected their ankles. He thought he was stronger, that perhaps he was ready for this.

“Race you to the top,” said Astrid with a childish smile, before turning back to the tower.

It hurt. He could feel the emptiness of what could have been, what would never be again in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

---

Imagine his surprise when arriving at the Vurmas outpost in Eiselcross, the powerful figure of the Shadowhand could not meet his eyes. Imagine his surprise, when he saw his eyes lighting up when they chose him instead of his old teacher to go down into the ruins. Imagine his surprise when he saw Essek battling, using gravity itself as a weapon, and felt only fondness and admiration for the man. When he showed off his tower and saw the same in the drow’s eyes. And attraction, of course. That went without saying.

It all came to a head when, together, they worked to cast a spell that would shorten time itself and give the Nein their much-needed rest.

Thought it might have felt like seconds to their friends, Caleb watched for long moments, holding magic in his palms to assist, as Essek opened a gash through the fabric of space and time. Real fabric, made of threads of all colors that together seemed to make up what he saw as the world around him. Time seemed to stop around them as Essek carefully worked around the fibers.

“This… Have you been able to see this the whole time?” he asked.

Essek’s jaw was clenched and there was sweat running down his forehead, but he nodded, “Not really. It takes a lot of effort to see this. A lot of energy.”

Caleb hesitated but gave in once Essek’s questioning gaze found his for a moment, “I have always seen the red threads. I- I had my own, for a while.”

“Annoying little things,” muttered the drow, focusing again at the slow-going task of weaving time with his bare hands, “There was a time when I hated them more than anything.”

“You used to have yours, too?”

“Hm? No,” said the drow distractedly, “I hated them because I had none, and I thought I should. The Dynasty looks like a tangled web if you watch for them since so many entanglements are made complicated by consecution. But I never had one, and even though I looked for… someone that could perhaps make it appear, it never did.”

He moved his wrist to the side, and the universe seemed to shift with it. Caleb felt a little dizzy.

“But I had never heard of someone who lost theirs. I thought they were supposed to be, ah, perfect,” Essek smirked, “Unless you did what we are doing right now to yours. That is, changing it fundamentally. Somehow, I do not think that is what happened.”

“Nein,” Caleb chuckled wryly and then held himself straighter, keeping the spell steady as Essek continued his labor. “I… strayed from the path, I think. I did something that was not meant to be.”

Essek looked at him like he was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen, even though the elf himself had the building blocks of reality in his hands at the moment. Caleb flushed.

“I think Caduceus would say that you did exactly what you had to do.”

“Maybe so. But isn’t it hard to know that others will have this… this gift, this sure thing while we will not?”

Essek looped a bright white strand against a colorful, prismatic one while he hummed, thinking.

“I felt the same way for decades. But whatever we will have or not, in that sense, will be of our own making. And isn’t that a gift on its own?”

---

The moonlight shone down on the beach, turning the sea a glittering mass of waves. Other than the full moon, magical globes and luminescent beetles illuminated the space around them. Their friends gathered around smiling tearfully in perfect dissonance. Caleb himself felt his heart beating so fast he thought it might leave his ribcage and seek quietude somewhere far away from his anxiety-ridden body. He stood beside Caduceus, who hummed a sweet song under his breath as they waited.

Finally, the glittering door at the end of the path opened, and Essek slipped out, bare feet delicately touching the sand. Jester came from behind him, and once their arms were locked, they walked on slowly, passing their friends and family on the way to Caleb and Caduceus.

He looked stunning in delicate iridescent robes, and Caleb tried to swallow down his anxiety. Violet eyes framed by silver lines, mouth poised in a gentle smile, cheeks flushed, Essek walked slowly until he was face to face with his intended.

Essek reached for his hand, and they stood silently, gazes locked while Caduceus conducted the ceremony. When it was time, Caleb drew a small spool of red thread from his pocket. Gently, he took Essek’s hand in his and tied a knot around his little finger. He offered the spool, and Essek repeated the gesture, biting his lips nervously. Caduceus cut the remaining thread, leaving their hands connected.

“You are now joined together, not by destiny, but by your own choice. I think that’s very nice,” Caduceus smiled placidly until Veth cleared her throat, “Oh yeah. You guys can kiss now.”

Caleb smiled at the phrasing. He lifted his hand, pulling Essek’s forward until the drow was close enough for him to count his freckles. Their hands tingled as he came impossibly closer. Essek’s mouth was warm against his.

For the first time in Caleb's life, he felt destiny favored him.

---

#critical role fanfiction #critical role #shadowgast #soulmate au #writing prompt #cute

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telehead · 2 years ago

Text

Flaky, flaky, flawed, and snaky.

Play the victim, lie, and bate me.

Fool me once, play your games.

Fool me twice, call me names.

Charm, charm, so you can harm

without anybody sounding alarm.

You try to hide it, yet I see it fly,

that giant red banner across the sky.

Spend, spend, I see a trend.

YOU need MY help, and so I lend.

Drinks, sluts, games and drugs;

just sweep it all under rugs!

Crack, crack, break my back.

I just might have a heart attack!

Shove my love through a shredder!

I really deserve so much better...

Burn, burn, the pages turn.

Of all you read, you cannot learn.

I wrote that book to show my love.

Now it burns, it wasn’t enough.

Threat, threat, place your bet?

Make a stranger kiss your neck?

How dare I involve your friends?

This is how our story ends.

Risk, risk. Our health you’ve risked.

It’s not okay, you must have missed!

Inside your unborn child’s mother,

AND the next day, inside another.

Fuck, fuck, you cheat and suck!

Tell your daughter “best of luck,

I went and gave up your mommy,

now this hotter new girl’s got me.”

Karma, karma, what a bitch;

the new girl left you in a ditch.

No one else would lend a hand,

so maybe now you understand.

Lie, lie, go off and cry!

You would not care if I die!

You’re only there to see the baby.

I ask for more? Nah, that’s crazy!

Busy, busy. You getting dizzy?

Ashlee, Makayla, Meghan, Jada, Lindsey.

Got all these hoes while you’re with ME.

Jessica, Anna, Jaide, Maddy, Whitney.

Bronson, Bronson whenever ya want some

just tell em all you’re chillin with Bronson.

Dumb ass hoes won’t figure shit out.

But lies ALWAYS unravel, without a doubt.

Dumb, dumb. You just gotta get numb.

On Coke, on Percs, alcohol, and bud.

To block the pain of shame and shit.

The dumb, quick way to death type habit.

Jail, jail, yet again you fail.

But every time, you tell the tale:

Denial, blame, threats & lies.

You done this shit now how many times?

21, 21, that was your age then,

that night you ruined your life and

you are not clever, you are not bright,

for what you did just wasn’t right.

Babies, babies, you must like babies

or little girls instead of grown ladies.

You told her you were 16 years old,

and now you project that lie, behold:

14, 14, that was her age then.

You KNEW she was that innocent.

No, not 16 saying she was 19.

That little girl now must be fighting...

Trauma, trauma and all this drama.

You could not comprehend her trauma.

So this must be why you lie and deny,

cause no body likes a perverted guy.

Guilt, guilt around the lies you’ve built.

Or is it shit with which you’re filled?

No wonder you can’t sleep, you’re tangled

in webs you weave in & out of every angle.

Danger, danger! That’s what you are.

Warning Sign! Hazard! Stay very far!

Our crazy past is proof that I know.

Being cool with that shit? Just... NO!

Lost, lost, look what this cost.

Out the window our family’s tossed.

If only you could turn back time,

perhaps then we’d still be fine.

Fine, fine... but COULD we be fine?

If you really could turn back time?

HA! That’s hilarious!! Flaky in check??!

Dating you’s a fucking train wreck!

Ivy, Ivy. So cute, pure, and tiny.

Yet, more loved than gold; almighty.

She makes my heart sing and glow.

But this feeling you’ll never know.

Innocent, innocent that’s what she is.

So, far away from you she’ll live.

Away from twisted lies, and deception;

whores, drugs, violence, and destruction.

Happy, happy. That’s what she’ll be;

not around danger, but safe here with me.

She’ll grow to know that she is so loved.

She don’t need your shit, we got enough.

Shame, shame. But you’re to blame.

Happy that I learned your game.

Sad you have Sociopathy,

but that, our girl will never see.

Bye bye you perverted guy.

The truth behind your nasty lie,

THAT will haunt you till you pass.

Or maybe longer... take a guess.

Flaky, flaky, flawed, and snaky?

Real shit happens fuckin with flaky.

So take a page from my mad diary:

Flakes can go fuck themselves,TRUST me.

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fireinmoonshot · 4 years ago

Text

SPIDER | BUCKY BARNES x READER | PART FOUR

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what to make of you when he meets you. You’re friends with Sharon, and you seem pretty easy to read on the surface. But the more time he spends with you, the more he seems to uncover, and the more he becomes tangled in the web you unwittingly weave. Pairing: female!Reader x Bucky Barnes Fandom: Marvel / The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Word Count: 2,769 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. A/N: Thank you all for the lovely response yet again! I really appreciate it. We're getting into Episode 4 now, so if you've not seen it yet make sure you don't read this chapter or you'll spoil yourself! Please let me know your thoughts, though. I really liked how this chapter turned out and I tried to make it so it didn't read like I was just writing the episode out word for word so I hope it's okay!

Zemo’s apartment was, at least, comfortable. As soon as you’d arrived Sam had settled in and gotten himself a drink and Zemo had excused himself to shower. You’d gone for a wander around the place, trying to get your bearings. It’d been a while since you’d been out of Madripoor and it felt a little like the ground had just been ripped up from underneath your feet. It was undoubtedly going to take some getting used to. Then, with what Bucky had said in the street. You were overthinking and you knew it, but he’d been right. You hated that he’d been right.

A change of clothes and freshening up in one of the bathrooms the place had done at least some of the job in helping you feel settled in, and by the time you re-enter the living room Bucky’s back, the Dora Milaje is after Zemo and the news that Karli bombed a GRC supply depot has broken.

You settle on one of the seats beside Sam with a glass of water and a heavy heart. Zemo is talking about how he personally believes Karli is a supremacist, but you can’t get your mind off of how three people had died and eleven more had been injured at the GRC supply depot bombing. You have a feeling that more people are going to end up dead if you don’t act soon, and fast.

“She will not stop,” Zemo says. “She will escalate until you kill her.”

You zone back into the conversation, taking a long sip of your drink.

“Or she kills you.”

“How unbelievably morbid of you,” you mutter.

Bucky glances at you and Sam even huffs out what you think could be a laugh.

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve,” Bucky says.

“Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

You can’t disagree with him. These people – Karli, her super soldiers. You know that they’re not trying to be Steve Rogers. They’re anything but. But you also know that John Walker, where-ever he is, whoever he is, isn’t qualified for the job either.

Bucky sighs and makes to walk away from the three of you and head toward the couch, looking for a well deserved seat. “Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.”

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo replies, staring into a cabinet and not even bothering to give Bucky a glance.

“Yes.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate.

Sam rolls his eyes, clearly irritated by the both of them. He says something, you vaguely hear something about his ‘TT’, though you don’t listen to the words. Instead, you stare into your drink, swirling the water around in the cup.

It’s not the first time you wonder if you’ve made a mistake my coming along with Sam, Bucky and Zemo. It’s not like Sharon gave you a choice, but you know that you could have insisted that you not come along. But now you’re wondering even more as you sit in Zemo’s living room, listening to the three men concoct a plan without even needing to consult you. Three men – a criminal, one that doesn’t trust you and one that you just don’t understand at all. You feel out of place among them.

You push yourself up and out of your chair, leaving your water behind on the table, and head towards the hallway that’ll lead you to the room Zemo told you that you could use. Bucky watches as you go, wondering if he should call out and ask you where you’re going, though he hesitates for too long and by that time, you’re out of sight. Sam watches him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Bucky looks at him.

“You, staring at her like that. Are you in cahoots or something? I saw you talking on the street. Hell, you stopped to talk to her. What’s that about?”

Bucky scoffs. “In cahoots? Are you being serious right now?”

“Deadly.”

“Yeah, you know what else is deadly?”

“What?”

“Karli if we don’t hurry up and get some information on Donya Madani.” Bucky stands up and heads towards the bathroom. “As soon as I’m done, we’re heading out.”

Sam shakes his head and mutters “Who made you boss?” under his breath.

Bucky hears him. “I did!”

***

You’re not quite sure what you expect to find, but it’s certainly more than you’re leaving with. Bucky is standing and staring at Zemo and a group of children when you and Sam rejoin him. You’d gone upstairs with him, having decided on the journey there to at least try with him, and if he still refused to trust you, you’d give up. Or perhaps you wouldn’t. You hadn’t quite decided yet.

Bucky looks at you as you stand beside him, hands tucked firmly into the pockets of your jacket to shield them from the cool breeze. You hadn’t said much to him since he’d joined you at Zemo’s apartment after your talk on the street, and honestly he didn’t expect you to. He didn’t even really know what to say to you, so he’d figured he’d not even bother breaching the topic. If you wanted to talk about it, you would.

You stare ahead at Zemo, eyes narrowed. He’d been a little anxious about you going upstairs with Sam alone, even though he knew deep down that Sam wasn’t going to do anything, especially to Sharon’s friend.

“Someone needs to teach those children not to talk to strangers,” you mutter.

Sam snorts.

“No, seriously. If I was their age and someone that looked and acted like Zemo came up and started talking to me like that, I’d probably want to punch him and run.” You pause and then spot the Turkish delight. “On second thoughts…” You make to walk towards him, suddenly feeling rather protective over the children unknowingly speaking to a criminal like Zemo.

Before you can even make it two steps, a hand closes around your wrist and pulls you to a stop. You look back, irritated, to find Bucky shaking his head at you.

“Don’t. He’s not going to hurt them. They’re giving him information.”

“They’re children and he’s a criminal.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, tugging you back to his side and letting go of your wrist once you’re there. “And I’ll punch him in the face if I have to.”

Sam chuckles. “Don’t tempt him, or me, for that matter.”

“Now you’ve just made me want to watch him get punched in the face.”

Bucky and Sam share a look.

“I will if you will,” Sam shrugs.

Zemo finishes speaking to the children and walks back towards the three of you. “Cute kids,” he says, smiling a smile that makes your skin crawl. He walks straight past you.

“Yeah, I hate that man,” you mutter.

***

The journey back to Zemo’s apartment is quiet and uncomfortable. You feel worried for the children and are contemplating various different ways you could physically injure and maim Zemo. Whatever Sam and Bucky are thinking, you don’t know or particularly care.

What you do know is that you didn’t find what you came for

You close the door of the apartment behind you.

“Well, I got nothing,” Bucky says, heading straight to the couch. “No one’s talking about Donya.”

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them,” Sam replies, settling down on the couch opposite Bucky. “And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

You find a spot on the couch by Bucky and kick off your shoes so you can put your feet up. All of the travelling around was certainly taking its toll and honestly, you were beyond exhausted. If you had the time to sleep for more than a few broken hours, you’d take it. You rest your head on your arm, laying your head down on the top of the couch, and look between Sam and Bucky.

Sam sighs and elaborates. “For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doing something.”

“You really think her ends justify her means?” Bucky says. “Then, she’s no different than him,” he motions to Zemo, “or anybody else we’ve fought.”

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.”

You find the courage to speak. “Just because she’s not motivated by the same things as Zemo or the people you’ve fought, it doesn’t mean she’s not unlike them,” you sit up a little straighter as they look at you. “I haven’t fought people like you have, but I’ve fought. I’ve seen what regular people can do with a following. Karli is different, but she’s the same, too. She’s making change, but at what cost?”

Bucky looks at you, eyes narrowed. “I like you,” he says. “You get me.”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks like he’s about to reply when Zemo comes over holding a tray with tea and several tea cups. It almost makes you laugh, the sight of him with the smallest, daintiest pieces of China, but you hold it back, knowing that all eyes in the room would fall on you if you did laugh.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky’s amusement over you is long gone.

Zemo looks at the three of you for several moments before finally giving up the information he’d been holding hostage. “The funeral is this afternoon.”

Beside you, Bucky huffs in annoyance. “You know the Dora’s coming for you at any minute? In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.”

You watch as Bucky stands up from the couch and walks towards him. Something tells you that he’s not just standing up to talk, but before you can so much as think of anything else, Bucky grabs a tea cup and throws it against the wall behind Zemo. It shatters with a surprisingly loud crack.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”

Both you and Sam are on your feet in seconds, stepping in-between them. You press a hand against Bucky’s shoulder and try to move him away from Zemo, but it does nothing. He doesn’t move and instead keeps shooting daggers at Zemo over your shoulder.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing,” Sam says, warning Bucky off. “Let me make a call.” He leaves the room, but not before tapping on Bucky’s other shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of it.

Zemo gets on your nerves by asking “You want some cherry blossom tea?”

“No, you go ahead.” Bucky is seething.

You push on his shoulder again and finally he steps back.

“What, you think we can afford to start fighting amongst each other now?” You ask, directing Bucky out of the living room and down the hall, figuring it’s probably for the best if he and Zemo aren’t in the same room right now. Zemo can enjoy his cherry blossom tea all on his own.

Bucky lets out a long, shaky breath. “Told you I wanted to punch him.”

“When I said I wanted to see it, I didn’t mean today.”

You tug him out of the hall and into your room, closing the door behind you. It’s the first time the two of you have been alone since the street where he’d called you out for contradicting yourself all the time. Strangely, he’s the person out of the three of them that you’re the most comfortable around, yet you also know he’s definitely the one that’s the most rash in his decision making. Hence the broken cup.

Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed and runs his hands over his hair.

“I know that helping him get out was for the best considering everything with Karli and the Flag Smashers, but I’m really regretting my decision right about now,” he admits, eyes focused firmly on the floor.

You walk over and settle down beside him on the bed.

“He has his uses, but just because he’s useful doesn’t mean he’s any less of an ass.”

He laughs briefly and the sound makes you smile.

“We all have regrets, okay?” You continue. “I have plenty of them, you have them, Sam has them, I bet even Zemo has some. Buried deep down. I try not to focus on mine. Maybe you should try the same with the Zemo thing.”

Bucky lifts his head and looks at you. “Yeah, it’s that easy, is it?”

For some reason, you want him to trust you even more now. Having felt disconnected from them all day, but also having felt the thrill when one of them laughs at your joke, or even Bucky just telling you that he likes you… the part of you that wants trust wins out, so you decide to tell Bucky one of your regrets.

“I regret leaving Madripoor and Sharon,” you admit. “She’s the only home I’ve known for the longest time. Madripoor – however messed up it is there – felt like some kind of home because of her. It’s the first time we’ve been apart since the blip, I suppose. Part of me wishes I was still there with her. But the other part of me focuses on the fact that she thinks I’m of more use here, with you guys. So I’m trying to be of use to you guys. I’m trying not to shut myself off. I’m pushing down my regret in favour of trying to be helpful.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Well, I haven’t contradicted myself yet, have I?”

Bucky smiles properly for the first time since you’ve met him.

“And listen, if it makes you feel any better, you entirely have my permission to punch Zemo before we finish all of this. I don’t know Sam well, but I have a feeling he’d be on board, too.”

He chuckles and leans back until he’s laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I meant what I said in there before,” he points in the direction of the living room. “That I like you. That you get me. I don’t know how, but you do.” He looks up at you, sitting up and watching him. “You’re making it annoyingly easy for me to trust you right now, you know that? I feel like I shouldn’t trust you because of the contradictions you make about yourself. But now you’re sitting here, being open and honest with me. Making sure I don’t punch people. And now I feel like I could trust you.”

You’re smiling. “Maybe that was all part of my grand plan.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m joking. It was a joke,” you huff out a laugh. “Learn to take a joke, James.”

He pushes himself up, sitting straight again. “James?”

“That’s your name, is it not? Or do you not like being called James?”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.” He blinks. Lets your words settle with him for a moment. “Bucky, James. I don’t care what you call me. Unless it’s offensive.”

“Well, you’re safe there,” you laugh. “I’m not mad at you, by the way. About what you said earlier. You were right. I do contradict myself, and I do it to protect myself.”

Bucky frowns. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

“Then I’ll try not to,” you say honestly. “Now, have you cooled off enough to go back and see who Sam was calling, or do you wanna stay here for a few more minutes?”

Bucky thinks over your question for a few moments, thinking ever so briefly about staying here with you for a little bit longer simply because he thinks he likes being around you, before nodding. “I think I’m good.”

You nod and stand up, intending to head to the door, but Bucky reaches out a hand to stop you. He means to grab your wrist, but unintentionally ends up grabbing your hand. You whirl, eyes a little wider than you realise, and look at him.

He doesn’t let go.

“Thank you,” he says. “For getting me out of there. For calming me down.”

You smile. “Anytime, Bucky.”

***

Tag List: (to be added, just reply to this post or message me!) @rexorangecouny @mischiefmanaged71 @rebelspykim @johnmurphys-sass @americaswritings @toribentleyva @purplewcrld @zozebo @ren-ni @felicityofbakerstreet @stealapizzamyheart @okayline @lilacs-lavender @andievgs @mvpluv @themaddies-obx @shawnartmendes @my-little-writer @vvipgot7be

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #tfatws #tfatws x reader #spider

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hatchetfieldtheories · 3 years ago

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The Webbed Timeline: part 2

Another one?

So a few weeks ago I posted a theory that had been knocking around my brain since we first heard about Webby - but until Nightmare Time it hadn't really had much substance. You can read it here, but the bit we're bothered about today, is that Webby created the timeline split in order to stop her bros from causing a true apocalyptic event, splitting time off in every direction which interweaves in a web.

So I wrote it, left it, and didn't think much more about those interweaving threads. Until two of you sparked my brain once more, at 11pm on a Wednesday!!

@awigglycultist posted this post about how You Tied Up My Heart is playing on the radio in Janes a Car. (Incidentally NMT1 Episode 3 is this week's #Rewatchers1000 show, so feel free to watch along!!) If that wasn't enough @blueskiesandstarrynights followed it up with these tags:

Now whilst I don't doubt that Pokey was vibing with the song (it is a tune), I actually don't think the song being played is as intentional as it seems. From an in-universe standpoint that is. I'm 100% sure Matt had certain images or implications in mind when choosing all of the music in NMT - but in terms of it happening to play in the car??

What does this have to do with the timelines?

So in my previous theory, I talked about how, whilst I acknowledge the way the timelines have been split off in different directions, I felt the split timelines were interlinked, weaving in and out of each other.

The example I gave is Paul and Emma getting together in multiple timelines, usually in a similar way despite differences in events. But other examples are things like Jane's death in the car crash, Alice stood aiming a gun at Bill, Peanuts surviving literally everything. These I am going to call the solid threads. They're bold and bright and weaving in and out of various timelines, making their mark in some way or another.

But then, there are the smaller, whispier threads in the web.

Time is a precious thread in the fabric of the Universe...

Its precious, and sometimes barely perceptible. These are threads that weave softly, allowing space for things to fall through.

The obvious examples are those certain motifs and sayings that crop up regularly.

Nightmare Time

Lightning

Wear a watch

But maybe its also a song performed to entice someone to their death in one timeline, becoming a top 40 song playing on the radio in another.

Or, in light of the pre-show tunes in NMT2, maybe its key songs from the various timelines of Hatchetfield, becoming retro arcade game songs in the NMT2 timeline.

#nmt2 #starkid #team starkid #nightmare time #hatchetfield #hatchetfield theory #hatchetfield theories

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secretlysheikah · 3 years ago

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Come together, Fall Apart

So I was going to take the time for another run through of the chapter, just to be sure it was good enough to post but you know what? Fuck it, we’re doing this live! That being said please pardon any errors you might find... I’m not the greatest with editing... Any who, please enjoy!

Reminder to all, I write angst. This wicked web I have weaved is a dark one, so please take care. I love you all so much.

Start here:

Time stood with his hand on War's shoulder until the sound of footsteps and the creak of the ladder finally faded away and he was sure it was just him and the Captain. Warriors looked pale, eyes distant as he stared off into the middle distance. He could tell that the Captain was not handling what had happened very well. Time squeezed his shoulder and gave it a little shake. But when Wars didn’t respond he moved in front of him and tried to catch his eye.

“Wars, Captain, are you in there?” He asked his tone carefully neutral to avoid it sounding like he was reprimanding him. Still no response came from Warriors and Time could feel himself growing worried. He nodded slowly, thinking through his options before he settled on gently resting a hand on War’s shoulder once again. He could feel the slight trembling running through his frame, clearly at war within himself. Four’s words came whispering through his mind as he once again tried to catch the other man’s eye.

‘Don’t be too hard on him, this whole thing… It was a mess.’

Slowly Time moved closer, putting away his sword in over exaggerated movements, he didn’t need Wars to think he was about to attack. The Captain visibly swallowed and Time could see his hands twitching at his sides. The sword he dropped was still lying forgotten at their feet. Then like a snapping of a twig, War’s red rimmed eyes finally met his own.

“Time,” War’s voice was barely a breath of air when he spoke but he could feel the weight in it all the same. Time offered him a sad smile before he carefully pulled him into a hug.

“Are you alright?” Time asked softly, his grip on War’s tight enough to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone but gentle enough for him to pull away if he so desired. War’s still hadn’t said anything, still hadn’t moved an inch, didn’t say another word even after Time finally released him. He was still pale, eyes far away and unblinking. Time sighed and bent down and scooped up the forgotten weapon and held it out to him. Wars looked at it like it was a snake about to bite him. Time gestured for him to take it and when Wars didn’t he sighed and placed the weapon in his hand.

“I know what you’re thinking right now. You were fooled Captain, that’s the long and short of it. There’s nothing you can do to change that, and there is nothing more to be said. I don’t blame you and I’m certainly not angry at you. We have to move forward Wars, we are a team, a family, we have to keep moving,” He said gently, his emotions spread thin after the events that had already transpired that day. Wars looked down at his hand that gripped the sword but said nothing. Time let out a tired sigh, patted his shoulder and moved to collect everyone’s packs.

“You saw the way Four looked at me right?” Wars asked quietly from his place by the small table, he still hadn’t moved.

“I saw,” Time answered simply, tucking away armor into a pack and slinging it over his shoulder.

“I feel like a traitor,” Wars said even softer and Time looked over to him then and saw the white knuckled grip he had on the sword. Time felt his heart ache and he looked out the window to the swaying trees outside. He longed for the fresh air, to empty out the stale and heavy air that weighed down his lungs.

“Dark is trying to tear us apart isn’t he?” Wars asked simply and Time squeezed his eye tight shut, a headache forming between his brows.

“That he is,” He said simply before he turned to look at the Captain properly, letting a hard look wash over his features as he did so.

“The question I ask you is this, are you going to let him?” HIs voice was stern, a clear demand. Finally Wars looked towards him, face sallow but something hard creeping in at the edges.

“Not on my life,” Wars answered, a rough edge to his voice as he finally slammed his sword back into its sheath with a defiant snap.

“That’s the spirit,” Time said with a smile before he tossed a bag over to Wars who caught it and threw it over his shoulder. He gave a steady nod and together they made quick work of collecting the rest of the group’s belongings and put out the fire. Ready or not, It was time to go into the unknown.

The sight that graced them was nothing less than disheartening. Twilight and Hyrule sat on the ground in front of the portal clearly exhausted and barely aware of the others that stood around them in a protective semicircle as their eyes scanned the swaying trees. A storm was rolling in and they could all feel the heavy electricity of it as it threatened to pour. A distant rumble made them all tense and look towards the boiling sky above them, a dark omen that made the tension even more palpable. Time could hear Wars shuffling anxiously behind him as another rumble made the ground tremble beneath their feet. Rolling his shoulders, Time let out a low whistle gaining the attention of the group of sorry looking heroes.

“Everyone partner up, it’s time to move,” He called out and waited for the respective pairs to form. It was almost painful watching them look at each other, trying to meet someone else’s eye so they could pair up. No one moved for a while and Time felt his teeth grinding together. They hadn’t acted like this since the first time they all came together. He battled back his frustration the best he could and unwilling to wait any longer called out pairs when they still refused to move.

“Wars you are with Wind and Four. Legend pick up Hyrule and help him get through the portal. No Twilight, don’t stand up yet wait for me to help.” Time barked and moved swiftly to help up Twilight as he tried and failed to get to his feet. He slung Twilight’s arm around his shoulder with ease and helped him rise, feeling the way he swayed as the motion probably made his head spin. He watched as Legend Slowly pulled Hyrule to his feet and caught him as his legs gave out underneath him. Legend let out a concerned noise before he too was supporting Hyrule the best he could. Hyrule for his part gave Legend a tired nod of thanks before he leaned in heavily into the Vet’s gentle hold. Time doesn’t miss the strained smile Legend gives in return, guilt clearly written across his face even as he worked to smooth his features into something close to neutrality. Making sure his charge is stable for the time being, Time looked around to the remaining three heroes and frowned. Wind was stuck between Wars and Four who had pointedly not made eye contact and had also refused to stand close to each other.

“Come on boys, we’re waiting on you,” Time said encouragingly, only managing to get a flat stare out of Four and a slightly pained look from Wars. Wind looked from one to the other and rolled his eyes before he grabbed them both by the arm and practically dragged them towards the portal. Time would have laughed if it wasn’t clear that Wars and Four were clearly uncomfortable.

Without further preamble Wind dragged the other two through the portal leaving the others to watch as they disappeared through the swirling purple mist.

“Come on, let’s get a move on,” Time said softly as he jostled Twilight to get his attention. Tired eyes met his own for a moment before they slid to the other two. Legend much like Time was gently coaxing Hyrule into motion, he smiled softly as Hyrule nodded and stood as straight as he could before returning a weary smile to Legend before they too walked through the mist.

A gentle hum at his side drew Time’s attention to Twilight who was tilting his head slightly in confusion.

“Something the matter pup?” He asked as another rumble rolled through the trees and he felt Twilight shiver.

“What happened to ‘Rule?” He asked as he pressed his fingers to his temple and massaged contemplatively.

“He seems thinner in a way, like something is missing,” Twilight mused before a coughing fit made him almost double over and wheeze for air. It took a moment for Twilight to regain his breath before he sniffled back and stood upright with a tired groan. Time shifted his hold on Twilight again and patted his side, a silent gesture asking him if he was alright. Twilight gave a shallow nod and Time felt the way he leaned a bit harder into him. The kid was running out of steam, his cue to move. Fat raindrops started to splat heavily on the ground and they made their way towards the portal and it’s oddly familiar hum.

“I’ll explain that a little later, for now we have to get you through the portal and find a place to rest.” He soothed, garnering a grunt of affirmation from his descendant as they made their own way through the swirling mist, away from the storm at their backs.

****

Crossing the portal into a new era of Hyrule was never pleasant even if the crossing itself only lasted a few moments at best, but for Twilight it seemed to last an age. The mist clung to his raw throat and clawed at his lungs. The sickening inertia of the shift would normally just give them all a bit of a dizzy spell and in some cases headaches as their brains tried to catch up with whatever magic moved them in time and space.

This time however Twilight felt the shift like a blow to the head. Not only did the world spin and steal his precious breath but the headache that settled around him forced his eyes closed even as he felt his legs trying to give out beneath him. He was glad the old man had a hold of him because if he were walking on his own two feet he was sure he would have crumpled to the dirt in a heap. He felt Time making jerky movements and he wondered if he was having trouble standing as well until he felt the pressure of voices against his ear drums. He couldn’t make out words exactly, his hearing was still adjusting to the shift but he could just about make out the tone. Time was angry, furious even, and he made more of an effort to lift his head and blink his sore eyes open.

They were in a misty glade of sorts, large trees with larger fruits stood around them. The thin light that filtered through the branches stung his eyes and he had to squint through the pain that lanced through his splitting skull. The glade was in an uproar, Legend was holding on to Hyrule protectively as they sat on the ground in a heap, his mouth making movements like he was shouting as Hyrule himself looked dead eyed towards the fighting group in front of them.

Twilight swung his gaze across the clearing to Wars and Four which seemed to be in a furious shouting match with each other with Wind stuck in the middle, arms out in an attempt to keep the two away from each other. Finally his ears popped and the world had sound again.

“...Doing? That is absolutely enough!” Time roared from his place next to him and Twilight couldn’t stop the flinch and the groan that left his mouth. His head felt like it weighed sixteen tons and the shouting and pale light made him nauseous.

“Wars started it! He shoved me into Hyrule and Legend!” Four screeched back followed quickly by a furious retort from Wars.

“For the last time it was an accident! I didn’t shove anyone, I was off balance!” Wars raged as he jabbed a finger towards the smaller smithy. Four gave a snort and made to respond but was cut off by Wind’s exasperated snarl.

“What is the matter with you guys! Are you actual children?” He yelled, voice cracking with barely contained rage filled tears.

“I said enough! Stand down the lot of you! I don’t care what happened, you’re heroes for the love of the Goddesses start acting like it!” Time barked and another shock of pain and nausea had Twilight shoving away from him. He managed a few steps, hands clenched in the fabric of his tunic before he hit the ground and heaved. Nothing but bile and the remnants of tea splashed to the sodden earth below him, making all sound in the glade cease in an instant. Black spots flecked his vision and when he was finally done he sat back on his knees and lifted his face towards the sky above letting the moisture collect in his face and cool his burning cheeks. His head continued to pound and it was all he could do to manage to collect his failing voice to speak.

“If I may ask one thing, can we please keep the yelling to a minimum until we find some shelter? I think I would like to lay down for a bit,” Twilight whispered his energy seeping out of him in the cold mist around them. He felt himself starting to fall forwards, his arms reaching out to lower himself to the ground as he heard muffled complaints coming from somewhere to his left. Gentle arms wrapped around his chest and he was pulled to the side as he leaned against a warm, but wet body.

“We’re sorry Twi,” Came the soft voice of Hyrule, his hand coming up to brush his forehead as he hummed, judging the heat that lingered there. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open now, he didn’t even care that his clothes were well on their way to becoming soaked as well.

‘Rule, I can take him, you’re in no shape to…” A shaky voice cut in through the hum in his head and he opened his eyes. The blurry shape Wind came swimming to view and he smiled despite the bone deep weariness. Wind always complained about the other’s constant mothering yet he was no better. He knelt down in front of him and held out his hands hesitantly a silent offer to lighten Hyrule’s load. Twilight couldn’t see Hyrule’s face but the way he squeezed him a touch tighter made him think that he was reluctant to let go.

“Or not, that’s okay too, but uh…” Wind trailed off his hands pulling away slowly, his eyes looking above them to look at the others.

“We need to get out of the weather,” He said and when no one moved he stood and put his hands on his hips. “Now guys, come on, we can have a conversation when we get under cover, I can tell this isn’t done by a long shot but we have sick and wounded,” Wind said, striding away out of sight as he clapped his hands and shooed the others into motion. Twilight couldn’t stop the chuckle that left him and he raised a limp hand and called out weakly after him.

“Yeah old man, you heard the sailor, let’s get a move on,” He slurred and felt a tired laugh rumble at his back even as Time let out a snort of his own.

“Hush you, you can’t even walk,” Time said, the sound of his armored footsteps coming closer to him and Hyrule. Twilight let his eyes fall shut for a moment, just to give them a rest and suddenly he felt himself being shifted onto Time’s back and heard Hyrule’s whine of protest.

“It’s just for a little bit ‘Rule, I promise, don’t worry,” He said in hushed tones as he could feel himself being pulled out of Hyrule’s grasp. Twilight felt his head spin and he tried to move but a steady hand grasped his shoulder making him stop.

“Don’t move Twi, we got you,” It was Wars who had spoken he was sure of it and together they managed to get him on Time’s back.

“But what about your knees?” Twilight mumbled as he settled his weight fully on Time’s back.

“Full of jokes today aren’t you?” Time chuckled as he grabbed hold of his wrists with one hand while the other grabbed hold under one of his knees steadying him as he stood to the sound of his knees cracking. Twilight went to make a snappy retort but the movement and the change in elevation made him forget what he was gonna say in a whirl of dizziness.

“You got ‘Rule, Wars?” Time asked but the response was lost to him as they started to move. Twilight closed his eyes again, just for a moment, as he relaxed into the gentle sway of movement and then he felt himself being pulled from Time’s back.

“Tired already old man? We just got started,” Twilight huffed, unhappy with having to move from his spot so soon.

“Not all pup, we’re just at our destination,” He said lightly as he let him down a little more roughly than what Twilight thought was strictly necessary. He grumbled a little and clutched at his head again as another flair of a headache wormed its way through his brain. Time made a concerned noise but Twilight waved away his concern. He looked around and noticed that the landscape had indeed changed. They were all collected under what looked like a large tree root which saved them from the worst of the mist, even though it still drifted through the air.

“How long were we walking?” He asked distractedly as he watched the others set up camp in stoney silence.

“I would say about an hour, maybe a touch less,” Time said as he rubbed his chin in thought. Twilight blinked slowly at him, he swore that he only rested his eyes for a moment. A shiver racked him and he felt his teeth chatter causing Time to reach for a pack.

“Right, let’s get you out of those clothes, you’re soaked,” He said as he pawed through the various fabrics until he found what he had been looking for. Twilight shivered again and reached a hand out to grab the dry clothes and smiled. Time had picked out a heavier tunic and pants and after another moment socks were thrust in his general direction as well.

“Get changed, the fire will be lit soon and I have Four laying out your bed roll,” Time said as he stood and left him to it. He watched for a moment, smiling as he made his way to Hyrule next. He hadn’t realized how cold he was until he pulled off his wet clothes and exchanged them for the warmer ones and heat started to return to his limbs, which helped but also illustrated just how achy he was. After he pulled on his socks he leaned against the oddly smooth bark at his back utterly spent just by the minimal effort of putting on new clothes. He hated being sick, hated feeling weak and tired and knowing there was nothing he could do but rest, it made him anxious.

“Here, put this on too,” the soft voice of Legend said as he dropped his pelt in his lap. Twilight grabbed it up greedily and threw it on over his shoulders and reveled in the familiar weight and heat it gave him.

“I thought you would appreciate that,” Legend snorted and he bent down and grabbed at his arm to help him up. Twilight still couldn’t stop his teeth from chattering but he nodded his thanks and struggled to his feet. Legend grunted with the effort and had to quickly support him as he swayed and stumbled. It took a moment for him to catch his breath again and he could hear Legend’s thoughtful hum next to him though he made no comment on it.

“Woah there wolf boy, slow and steady okay,” Legend said softly and threw an arm across his back. Twilight leaned into gratefully and together they made their way over to his waiting bed roll and the newly crackling fire. Twilight settled onto the push fabric with a sigh of relief and nodded his thanks to the Vet who was already making his way towards Hyrule. Looking at him Twilight could see that Hyrule had seen better days, he was arguably as pale as he was and his normally wonder filled eyes seemed distant and hollow with dark bags pulling at the underside of his eyes. Hyrule was sat down next to him in quick order, swathed in his own warm clothes and he took no time to shuffle closer to him and the fire. Twilight gave him a soft smile and pulled him close making sure he too was covered by the warm pelt.

“He wouldn’t stop looking at you, I figured you wouldn’t mind the company,” Legend said softly as he looked down at the pair. He rested his head on Hyrule’s damp curls and nodded, he didn’t mind actually. He looked up towards Legend again and saw the way he shuffled awkwardly at his place next to them, hands twisting the fabric of his tunic as he did so.

“I’ll leave you two to it I guess,” He mumbled and made to move away but was stopped by Hyrule who grabbed at his hand. Twilight watched a flurry of emotions pass over the vet’s face before he settled on a pained look. It was clear he wanted to be close but the look he gave Twilight made it clear he was waiting for his permission to sit with them. Twilight nodded slightly and Legend allowed himself to be pulled down next to them with a huff.

“Fine but only for a few minutes,” He said and Twilight rolled his eyes and leaned as far as he could, grabbing on the Legend’s sleeve and pulling him so they were all leaning together. Twilight let the warmth of them flow over him and soon he found himself dozing half in and out of consciousness as the noises of camp coming together made his head hum.

****

Legend had been worried about Hyrule, as wounded as he was the kid was still worried about Twilight and no amount of worried protests had stopped him from trying his hardest to get to the rancher. He had tried to reassure him that Twilight would be fine, that he himself needed rest but Hyrule was adamant, almost single minded in his need to see him. After endless minutes of struggling with ‘Rule to sit down and change into dry clothes he had finally asked him why he was pushing himself so hard when he was clearly struggling himself and Hyrule’s answer was startling and unexpected to the least.

“I forgot the water, what if he gets worse?” He moaned, like that was the most pressing thing to worry about. Legend had actually huffed out a shocked laugh at that. After all of the things that had happened that day and he was worried about the damn water? So much so that he was willing to ignore his own injuries, invisible as they were just to what? Reassure himself that Twilight was okay? Legend was sure that he must be delusional but the look in Hyrule’s pale eyes had told him all he needed to know.

“You’re worried aren’t you?” The question had seemed to deflate the younger hero and he had sagged forwards, pulling his knees towards his chest as tears shone in his eyes. He knew the question wasn’t about Twilight, not really and he nodded.

“I can’t feel anything, I used to feel magic in the air, but now it’s just… Empty, everywhere,” He said and finally fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Legend could practically feel his pain in his bones at the traveler’s words and he reached out and gently ran his hands through Hyrule’s sodden locks.

“How am I supposed to help you guys now Leg? I can’t heal, I can’t use magic, I can’t do anything! I’m useless!” He sobbed helplessly and before he knew it Legend was on his knees and pulling him close as he wept.

“What are you? Crazy? You’re more than your magic ‘Rule, you always have been,” He soothed feeling as his own tears wetted his face. Hyrule didn’t say anything, only clung to him like a lifeline in a roiling sea.

“Now you listen to me, you will regain your magic, and I’ll help you along the way. You aren’t alone, In fact,” He said as he reached down to grab his pack where Time had tossed it searching for the familiar shape of his ring box. Hyrule went very still as Legend gave a soft cry of victory and struggled to open the lid. He had to let go of Hyrule so he could look through the rings properly in the fading light but he didn’t seem to mind as he looked at the rings in wide eyed wonder. No one was allowed to touch the rings, he had made it very clear when they had all visited his Hyrule and had gone through his possessions. He could only imagine what the traveler was thinking now as he watched him paw through the various rings.

“I have something for you, it should help a bit, keep in mind it’s not a cure all but it's something,” He said as he pulled out a thin gold ring with a red ruby surrounded by a ring of diamonds. He held it delicately and marveled at the dark sheen of the ruby in the fire light. Hyrule’s eyes were wide in surprise as Legend grabbed his hand and slid the ring on the middle finger of his left hand. Legend watched as a shiver ran through Hyrule’s frame as looked at the ring in wonder.

“Legend, I couldn’t…” He breathed, as he touched the stones gently with his fingers. Legend only shook his head and put the box of rings away.

“You will, I insist on it. That ring will help focus your magic, it should help with getting you back to rights,” He said, his eyes still averted from the traveler as he made a show of closing his bag and shoving back from where he grabbed it.

“Legend I, thank you,” He said, his voice just above a whisper. Legend felt his heart flutter just a bit.

“It’s the least I can do, no need to thank me, this was my fault after all,” He said bitterly and a soft noise from Hyrule had him finally meeting his gaze.

“I would have done the same too, if I thought it was truly unsafe to be there I would have made more of a fuss about going with you Legend. I don’t want you blaming yourself for this okay? Can you promise me that?” He asked earnestly looking into Legend’s eyes with all the sincerity and love that Legend was sure he did not deserve. There was no way he could promise a thing like that but he did give him a nod and while he could tell Hyrule wasn’t completely satisfied with that answer he did nod back and pulled him in for a hug.

They sat like that for a spell before he pulled away and ruffled his hair. Hyrule looked exhausted and Legend didn’t miss the look he shot towards Twilight. Legend patted the traveler’s knee and stood much to Hyrule’s distress but Legend calmed him easily.

“Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go collect wolf boy and then I’ll be back to grab you I promise. You two can go and sit by the fire to warm up.” He said gently and while Hyrule didn’t seem too pleased at being left alone he did nod and sat back to wait. Legend steeled himself, schooling his features into an unconcerned mask and made his way over to Twilight, scooping up his precious pelt along the way.

It didn’t take long to get both Twilight and Hyrule to settle and Legend let out a sigh of relief when he felt Hyrule and Twilight finally slump together next to him. He looked over at them, their mouths hung open slightly in sleep and he watched as their chests rose and fell in slow steady breaths. He was glad, they both needed the rest badly, both for very different reasons.

Slowly he stood and caught the eyes of Wind and gestured for him to move Hyrule’s bed over next to Twilight’s. Wind looked to the bed and back to them before he nodded and quickly dragged the other bed roll next to them. Once it was all set up he and Wind slowly helped the two sleeping heroes lay down. It was positively adorable and he heard the snap of Wind’s pictobox as he snapped a picture of them. He shook his head and tucked them in and watched as they shifted into a more comfortable position in their sleep. Part of him wished he could join them, but he had other matters to deal with first.

He tiptoed away and grabbed Wind’s sleeve as he passed, dragging him away to the others that were gathered in a tense circle not too far away. Four and Wars were carefully avoiding each other’s eyes and Time was sitting cross legged on the ground as he glared at both of them.

“Okay, the children are asleep, mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Legend hissed as he and Wind took their places in the circle.

“I would love to know that too,” Wind added as he crossed his arms and stared pointedly at War’s and his flushed face.

“It appears we have a lot to discuss,” Time said as he looked at everyone in turn. Legend felt the weight of it settle uncomfortably onto his shoulders and he straightened with a cough, decision made.

“I volunteer to explain what happened at our end considering it was my fuck up.” He started but faltered when he felt everyone’s eyes fall on him. Shame burned his cheeks and he cast a glance over to Twilight and Hyrule for a moment to steal himself for what he needed to say. To their credit Four and Wars waited patiently until he was ready.

“Hyrule and I went to the spring to get water for Twilight, and while we were there we spotted Wild in the waterfall. But he disappeared.” He said his voice carefully emotionless, his eyes drifting from the fire behind them to his hands in his lap, his rings dulled by shadow and the feeling of guilt. No one said a word and he took a breath before continuing.

“I told ‘Rule to stay at the spring in case Wild came back, and I left to get some back up,” He said, feeling his throat tightening as he thought of what happened next.

“I was gone for five minutes, seven at the most, but that was more than enough time,” He choked suddenly and he hated how his shoulders shook ever so slightly. Guilt had his heart in a vice grip and he struggled to get his breath back so he could force the next part past his frozen throat.

“I grabbed Time and Wind and when we got back, Dark was there and Hyrule, he…” Bitter tears flowed from his eyes and he felt Wind's gentle hand press against his shoulder. It was a silent question, asking him if he wanted someone else to continue. He shook his head and took a deep breath.

“Long story short, Dark attacked him while I was gone. And thanks to my negligence most of his magic was ripped away from him.” Legend’s voice was barely a whisper and he waited, waited for someone to break the tenuous silence. He didn’t have to wait long.

“What does that mean exactly?” Four’s quiet voice asked and it was a moment before he could talk again.

“It means that he can’t use magic the way he used to,” He said in a slightly strangled voice. The look of mild confusion on Four’s face had him sighing and rubbing at his eyes. He was exhausted both mentally and physically but he knew he had to soldier on, to explain the full implications of what had transpired.

“The best way to explain it is like, if someone cut off your dominant arm. You can learn to fight again eventually, but it’s going to take time and effort and a whole lot of relearning just for the chance to get back to the way you were. But it will never be the same.” His sentence fell out of his mouth in a bitter rush and he quickly swiped at his eyes to clear away the excess moisture that clung to his lashes.

“I see,” Was the only response from Four and everyone else seemed to mirror the sentiment in the looks they sent towards the fire. He could feel the pity they were sending over to Hyrule and for some reason that lit a small flame of rage inside him. Pity was not what the kid needed and maybe he was self projecting onto Hyrule but he couldn’t help it. Hyrule needed help and support, not to be tiptoed around with sad eyes plastered onto him. Time must have noticed where his thoughts were treading because he tossed a small rock at him to get his attention.

“Hey, I know what you’re doing, we’re here to help him too, so get that sour look off your face,” He chided lightly and Legend snorted while making sure his face was appropriately sour in response. He would never admit it but that simple statement meant more to him than he cared to admit, it made him feel like he wasn’t completely alone in this. Time graced him with a small nod of understanding before rolling his eyes and casting his gaze over to Wars and Four.

“Now it’s your turn, I came in at the tail end of things so I can’t speak on what happened,” He said, opening the floor for one of them to take the lead. Legend watched as Wars shuffled uncomfortably in place, throwing furtive glances to Four who was pursing his lips and studiously ignoring him.

“I think that you would be better to explain the majority of it,” Wars whispered to Four who sighed and nodded. Crossing his arms he turned to the group proper and adjusted his hairband. An empty gesture that only showed his discomfort and agitation.

“Fine, I can do that,” He said, eyes flashing a myriad of colors the odd way they always did until they settled on a purplish hazel.

“After Time, Wind and Legend rushed off to the spring I was left to watch over Twilight until they came back. I was doing just that when what looked like Hyrule came sneaking into the treehouse,” He started and Legend could feel cold rage rush through his bloodstream. The mist around them seemed to grow heavier and everyone leaned in closer almost subconsciously on tender hooks as they listened.

“At first he seemed normal enough, but then parts of me started noticing odd things. They were small, the way he walked, the way he talked, how his eyes seemed just a bit off as he looked around. It was like he had never been in the house,” His eyes grew distant as he remembered and Legend thought he sounded almost mechanical, a scholar giving a report on ancient history.

“I asked him about what was happening at the spring, he gave noncommittal answers and blew it off as a misunderstanding and that the others would return soon. It was raising all sorts of red flags and it wasn’t until he spotted Twilight that I was sure it wasn’t him.” Four licked his lips, his eyes flashing again as he remembered. He carefully folded his hands in his lap and picked at the skin around his nails.

“After that I confronted him, demanded to know who he was but I think we all know who it was. Anyway I was trying to get more information out of him when our lovely Captain came back to the treehouse.” All eyes fell to Wars then who had suddenly gone pale, his lithe hands worrying away at the edges of his scarf. Legend didn’t miss the bitterness in Four’s voice and he almost didn’t want the smithy to continue.

“Long story short, Dark was able to muddy the waters so to speak and things were quickly going south when Time showed up and put a stop to everything,” Four finished his tale simply and silence filled the air as everyone looked from Wars to Four and back again. They were all digesting his words and coming to the same conclusion. The cold anger that had been rushing through him was suddenly boiling hot and he felt like he was going to burst into flames at the sheer audacity of Dark’s actions. The chill air was suffocating now, threatening them with its weight until Wars lifted his head and threw the edge of his scarf he had been picking at back behind him.

“I owe you an apology Four, I am deeply sorry for... “ He started but the words seemed to leave him and he deflated. He tried to sign, but apparently was still at a loss for words for a moment until he signed ‘sorry just isn’t enough and I don’t know what else to say besides asking for forgiveness’.

“Bastard!” Legend cried out, suddenly unable to hold himself back anymore, causing Wars to jump in surprise. Legend blinked as all eyes fell to him and he watched the Captain open and close his mouth as he tried to figure out what to say. Legend cursed and stood up, he was too jittery to sit any longer.

“Not you pretty boy, that bastard Dark,” He seethed as he threw his hands in the air. He was having trouble keeping his voice down and a tug from Four at his tunic had him actively trying to swallow down his outrage. Muted for the time being, Four finally looked over Wars and took a deep breath.

“I owe you an apology as well, about earlier. I know you were thrown into a very confusing situation and parts of me know that while there are some other parts that are angry about it. But those parts need to cool their collective forges.” He hissed the last part seemingly to himself before continuing.

“Tensions were running high and I am sorry for yelling at you for falling into me,I can see it wasn’t intentional but I let what happened earlier color my perception and for that I do apologize.” He said as he got to his feet with a groan and moved to stand in front of Warriors. For his part Wars looked completely taken off guard. Four reached a hand down, an offering and he took it hesitantly, unsure of what would come next. Legend wasn’t sure either but a grin spread across his face when Four pulled him to his feet and hugged him tightly. It only took a moment for Wars to go lax and return the hug, all tension gone. If he didn’t know better he would have said that Wars was close to being choked up.

“Aww so sweet,” The voice made them all freeze, and they whipped their attention back to the fire where a shadowy figure sat idly across the fire from Hyrule and Twilight.

“You,” The word hissed out from Legend’s mouth like a curse, his forward momentum only halted by a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t move, he is too close to the others,” Wind whispered to him and he cursed quietly, the kid was right and he despised it.

“What’s the matter bunny boy, you seem a little heated,” Dark asked lazily and if he could Legend would throttle the brat.

“Brave coming here, are you looking for a beating?” Wars called out to him and Dark rolled his eyes.

“If I were looking for a fight I would find some butterflies, so no I’m not here to look for a fight,” Dark said as he stood lithely from his spot next to the fire.

“It’s not like I’m actually here anyways, think of me as just a shadow, a flicker between the flames,” He said as he moved to stand in the middle of the fire for emphasis, his edges becoming translucent and indistinct.

“This should be familiar to you little smith, brings back memories doesn’t it?” He said with a wink and Legend shot a glance to Four who had gone pale, his eyes flickering too quickly to keep track.

“Then why?” Time asked as he shouldered his way to the front of the small group. The way his shoulders were tensed looked like he was just on the verge of snapping into action. A quick glance around and Legend found much the same, but they were all stopped from moving for one obvious reason. Dark was simply too close to their helpless friends and that made him all the angrier.

“I just wanted to drop in for a friendly hello and a warning.,” He breathed as he moved away from the fire to disappear into the murky darkness outside of the firelight.

“I hope you enjoyed your time together, it’s quickly coming to an end,” He said, his voice reverberating around them like an odd echo chamber. They were all looking around themselves with steely eyes waiting for the shadow to reappear but it seemed he was having more fun staying out of sight. The bastard.

“Things as you've come to know them will be ending and it will be brilliant,” The shadow said, his voice sounded like it was right in his ear and Legend shivered as he whipped around to look only to meet the wide eyes of Wind.

“Pray to your golden Goddesses, I have all I need, it’s only a matter of time now.” The voice was further away now and Legend could see the Captain swing a fist over top of Four’s head, missing him by a hair’s breadth. Four for his part didn’t seem to notice as he took the chance to dart towards the fire to defend the two sleepers. His foot caught on something and he fell forwards in a heap a shadowy figure of himself crouched over top of him. Four sent a murderous glare over his shoulder as he twisted, a dagger in hand as he swept it through the shadow. It dissipated with a laugh and he was left gasping on the ground.

Legend jolted forward but was once again held back, this time by the old man. He let out a growl of frustration and held his ground. Echoing laughter reverberated around them, setting his teeth on edge.

“Oh how I will miss this when all things end. I shall have to get my fill before then. Luckily I have the hero of wilds now, which should be a great start. I was getting bored of the sky child.” Dark chuckled happily and suddenly the world felt like it was contracting to a single point. He had Wild, they had been too slow. He felt himself waver, his eyes fluttering as his blood pounded in his head.

“I invite you to try to save them, it will be fun to watch,” He said joyously the sound of his delighted clapping making the tunneling in his vision waver and pulse.

“Your confidence will be your downfall!” Time hissed, his hand coming down hard on Legend’s shoulder helping to ground him slightly.

“We’ll see, old man, we shall see. Oh I can’t wait to see the world fall apart from the seams as the darkness pours from the cracks,” Dark said, voice suddenly wistful. “The Goddess’s hard work torn asunder, their heroes shattered and smothered in the shadows, I look forward to it. Lick your wounds, prepare and make your peace,” He said as his voice melted into the faint pops of the fire and the thick misty air leaving them all alone.

#linked universe #linked universe fanfic #time linked universe #twilight linked universe #legend linked universe #angst #the sheikah writes #warriors linked universe #dark link #hide and seek

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eddiemetalheadmunson · 3 years ago

Text

"I know that compulsion. That hunger. How hard it is to fight against." - Father Paul

So I've been thinking of nothing but Midnight Mass for days now, and thought I'd share some thoughts as someone who has struggled with addiction.

Father Paul's relationship and codependency with the angel (specifically, the angels blood) hits the mark for every stage of deterioration I experienced in active addiction. Like, it's the best portrayal I think I've ever seen, possibly because it is shown indirectly, and with a fantastical plot that makes the audience want to understand Father Paul's hunger. Addicts have a rough reputation, and understandably so. For both the user and the loved one, it is, quite frankly, Hell. Vampires, however, are a topic that has been adored for a very long time. Perhaps it's easier somehow to understand that do or die -NEED- to have something when exhibited through a fictional fantasy. The same kind of needs such as eating, drinking water, finding shelter, having human connection. These are all our most primal, basic needs. In addiction, the need to use/drink slowly, quietly and insidiously slithers its way up the pyramid. One priority after another fades away until they're no longer on the list of moral choices that at one point, the addict SWORE they would never compromise. "Not this one. This one I cannot do. This one I will not budge. I will NEVER choose x over y."

It's an encouraging thought. But addiction is the best salesman in the game. You will barter and plead and bargain. You'll think you got away with a decent deal until you look behind you and realize you're a forest fire destroying everything in its wake.

So, here's a little essay on comparisons, specifically Father Paul's decline and my own experience.

1) Father Paul goes through withdrawal. Physically and mentally. The blood gave temporary, amazing results, but came with a price that steadily climbed higher and higher as time went on. It became harder to reach a feeling of invincibility the longer it was consumed, and the sacrifices neccesary to continue grow larger. Withdrawal can make a person feel desperation akin to torture. It can break even the holiest of people. We see this exhibited by Father Paul right off the bat.

2) Father Paul's lies begin. White little lies, he tells himself. Harmless, really. Lies we tell to protect those we love from what we deem as an unnecessary worry. Lying becomes easier, and we become masters of deception under the belief that we're lying to benefit someone else. We are, in many ways. But not in all.

"Forgive me Father, for I am going to sin."

Little lies scattered here and there that unbeknownst to us begin weaving the web that will one day inevitably imprison us forever. Our own web. Our own undoing.

3) Father Paul begins making sacrifices. These sacrifices change form, then, from words to the physical. A sacrifice of his health. Of his own bodily strength. We ignore these signs vehemently, and it doesn't even grace our thoughts to be afraid. To stop. We're still building momentum, living in the adrenaline of what is to come. What could be. We're enjoying the feeling too much to even realize our bodies are starting to protest against what we're consuming. Self care starts to dwindle and health falls by the wayside.

4) Father Paul's priorities become less and less important. He starts to truly throw his greatest treasures into the abyss. His relationship with God. His love for his friends. His moral compass. His hobbies and interests. They all blur together and the color is slowly leached from them. Little by little, those we would have never even fathomed harming are now just a small footnote in the novel of our undoing. The desperate need is now a constant companion. The parasite to our host.

5) Then, oh, then...Father Paul takes too much. He becomes greedy and sloppy and inhuman. He'd burn the world down to satiate the thirst that aches inside of him. Until enough is never enough. Until that elixir loses its potency and we're left a hollow shell, an echo of our former selves.

6) Father Paul comes to realize how lost he truly is. He's cast out all that stood in the way of satiating his need and now feels very, very alone in the world. We begin to flicker, slowly reaching the end of our wick, and then, we burn out.

He dies long before his body does. His soul becomes just another chip to barter with in the end - the very last chip, in fact. And then we simply exist, but do not truly live. We start to see glimpses of what we had before, the beautiful things that were lost in the fire. The natural order of things that we tampered with. We've twisted and pulled and strained until life became a gray wasteland filled with the ashes of all we've given up. Those voices whispered such sweet promises once, didn't they? Now even they don't speak. There is no need. Our bodies have converted. Our religion is misery and our hearts are stone.

Father Paul is a character very close to my heart in the sense that I felt he was telling my story in a way. Riley Flinn is dear to me, too, as well as Joe Collie. These three characters feel like dear friends to me, honestly. Each of their stories are so intricately woven into what addiction can do, how it can manifest. To me, their stories all come to one conclusion in the end, as did mine.

Beware all things that promise easy miracles, easy relief, easy triumphs. Beware all that isn't born of your truest self. Never sacrifice your soul for the promise of things desperately wished for.

Because how can we enjoy the prize if we have no soul to rejoice with upon winning it?

#personal #this is so long jfc #but deeply personal to me #these characters truly do feel like friends and this show is just...incredible #i thought some of you might find it interesting from my pov #midnight mass #father paul #father paul hill #father john pruitt #riley flinn #joe collie #addiction

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allegra-writes · 4 years ago

Text

"Bad together"

Prologue: Benjamin Reilly

Peter Parker x Reader

General audiences

Warnings: none.

"And if I'm dead to you

Why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed"

My tears ricochet - Taylor Swift

"... It's a disaster! Look at her! It's like someone took a look at Black Cat, selected everything that made her sexy and then took it out!"

Black Cat. The name froze the young photographer on his tracks right outside his boss' office. He hadn't heard that name in a long time, the last sighting had been well over a year ago. He would know. After all, it had been him, the very last person to have seen Felicia Hardy, alive or dead.

"What are you talking about? That looks hot af, not to mention badass!" Jade's persuasive voice reached his ears, making him smirk: It was no secret the chief editor had a soft spot for the young intern. And, on her part, the petite brunette was a firecracker. Poor old Jameson didn't stand a chance. "Come on, dad. Single handedly taking down three of the Kingpin's goons? That's impressive. It deserves to be one of the slides!"

"Not if we don't get a higher quality picture. That blurry video is good enough for a thumbnail, but not for a slide" Slides were a big deal, they were the Dailybugle.net's equivalent of a front page, and if J. Jonah Jameson took something seriously, it was his web site. He prided himself in the quality of the "receipts" of his "tea", as if that validated the trashiness of the bullshit articles he posted, more fiction from hyper imaginative wannabe writers than serious work from real reporters.

"Well, then let's get the pictures. Where is that star photographer of yours?"

The photographer rolled his eyes, typical Jade. As if the queen of cool didn't know his name. As if she hadn't graced his bed a handful of times already.

"That's a good question. Dolores, get me Reilly!"

"I'm here, Jonah" Ben finally stepped inside the office, throwing an envelope on Jameson's desk before throwing himself on a chair across it. He could feel Jade's eyes on him, almost like a physical caress, trailing from the long, slick back curls on the top of his head, to the muscles of his arms, threatening to rip open the seams at the sleeves of his white t-shirt, to his jean clad thighs. Still, he didn't turn to look at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction.

"What do you have for me today, boy?"

Ben gesticulated vaguely with his head in the direction of Jade, and Jameson caught the hint.

"Jade, out!"

"But, dad, my story!" The petulant reply left her mouth before she could stop it, undoubtedly the product of years of habit. But she had the grace to look embarrassed and leave the office without another word, trying to save whatever professionalism she had left.

Once she was gone, Jameson opened the envelope, flipping through the various pictures of a masked figure swinging around New York in a black and red suit.

"Hmmm… these are good" the older man praised, staring at the images of a frustrated robbery at 5th avenue

Ben snifled nocomitically,

"There was a fire at 16th avenue happening at the same time" He offered, "we could use that. Spider-Man forgets his roots and leaves his old neighborhood to fend for itself, running off to save some pretty socialite…"

"Oh, that is excellent! See, this is why I like you, kid. You have initiative. Unlike these snowflakes out there. Oh, but Spider-Man is a hero. Hero, my ass"

"Well, when you watch your so called hero sit back and do nothing as your life gets destroyed" Ben shrugged, "the rose colored glasses tend to fall off…"

Jameson made a face at that,

"Yeah, about that… I'm sorry. For the role the Daily Bugle played on that…"

Ben shook his head,

"You thought you were getting the truth out there. It's not your fault to have been played, along with half the world. Plus," he added, sounding genuinely enthusiastic, "you gave me this job. And now we can really tell the truth"

"Even when our idea of the truth is somehow different" The older man scoffed, flipping around a picture of Spider-Man sat on what appeared to be a hammock of his own webs, eating a hamburger and reading something that looked suspiciously like a comic book, "Still hung up on that high schooler theory of yours?"

"Well, if it talks like a brat and acts like a brat…" Ben took out another envelope, this time containing a few burger king wrappers and, effectively, a spider-man comic book.

"Where did you even get these?"

"Harlem" was Ben's curt reply, and Jameson knew that was as exact a location as he was going to get.

"So you still believe this is a copycat? Some kid playing dress up"

Ben simply shrugged again.

"Well, there seems to be an epidemic of those lately" Jameson admitted, indicating Ben to come closer, passing a tablet to him, "Jade just handled me this, take a look"

Ben took a deep breath, steeling himself, already knowing what he was going to see in it. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but hope to be wrong. To hope the silver haired figure facing three much bigger, stronger looking ones as he pressed play, wasn't the same one he had spent weeks memorizing last summer. Wasn't the body he had found solace in, when everything fell apart, once again, for the hundredth time in his life.

To hope it wasn't you.

But when in his twenty-two or so years of existence, had things ever gone his way?

Ben felt the screen crack under his fingertips.

"I've heard of her" he lied through his teeth, "didn't even think she was real, to be honest. Extremely elusive, and cunning." That much was true, "I don't understand how something as mundane as a security camera managed to catch her…"

Unless you wanted to be caught, that was.

"Well, I don't care if she's the fucking Loch Ness monster, I want an HD picture of her on my desk tomorrow to go with Jade's article. I already have a headline: New Catastrophe Jen wreaks havoc on Hell's Kitchen" Jameson's eyes lit up with glee as he weaved his hands up in the air, like writing on an invisible marquee.

Ben snorted

"Don't you mean Calamity Jane?"

Jameson's face fell, the color rising to his cheeks, characteristic vein popping on his forehead.

"I meant what I meant, boy! Now, what are you still doing here? You have 24 hours to get me that picture"

"I'm going to need 72," came Ben's unphased reply, "and I want twice what you pay me for the spidey pics"

Jameson's vein looked about ready to explode,

"48 hours. And deal."

Ben jumped from his seat and bolted out of the office before his boss could change his mind, not realizing until it was too late that he was on a collision course with a sweet looking short haired blonde girl.

"Watch where you're going! Jeez!"

"Me? You're the one who crashed against me!"

Ben rolled his eyes, but crouched next to the girl anyway, helping her gather the papers that had been sent flying on impact back together.

"Peter? Oh my god, is that you?"

Of course. What an idiot, he should had recognized that annoying, shrilly voice the second he heard it. It had caught him off guard, something he knew he couldn't afford. But how could he had ever imagine he could run into Betty fucking Brant, Yale cum laude, in the freaking dailybugle.net headquarters of all places?

"Sorry, sweetheart. You must confuse me with someone else…" He mumbled, lowering his head even more in a vain attempt to hide his face.

"Of course not!" She insisted, "You're Peter, Peter Parker, we went to Midtown together!"

"Miss, I have no idea what you're talking about…"

"Don't be silly, Peter!" She chuckled, completely deft to his tone or the way his whole demeanor had changed the second she had called him by the old name. "How have you been? Oh, just wait until I tell Ned, he's going to be so-"

CRACK.

At last, the tablet that had been in peril ever since Jameson had put it in Ben's hands, the one that contained his assignment, met its demise, both broken halves falling to the ground, along with all the papers he had picked up for Betty. It was several moments before he could get the shaking of his hands under control, before the tar black rage inside him subsided enough for him to be able to move without shifting. But it had.

"Peter Parker is dead." He deadpanned, dark brown eyes finally meeting Betty's stunned blue ones, "Tell Ned that, he'll probably be glad to hear it"

With that, he stood up and walked away, leaving a confused and agitated Betty behind.

To be continued...

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland #peter parker imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker x reader smut #tom holland x reader smut #dark!peter parker #dark peter parker #venom #venom!peter parker #marvel #black cat #felicia hardy #bad together #arvin russell

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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years ago

Text

I Still Want You, I Still Need You- I. Civil War

Word Count: 2576

About: You are on Steve’s side of things and that upsets your brother,Tony. Showing that you and Tony are two different versions of your guys father, Howard.

Characters: Reader, Bucky, Tony, Steve, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Wanda, Zemo, and T’Challa

Pairing: None

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Blood, Injury, Mention of past death

A/N: This has been in my head forever. So while I write both this mini series and Winter’s Doll, please bare with me.

*This contains content made for the 18 and up crowd. Read at your own discrestion

**Please do not copy and paste this work anywhere. I work too hard on all of my stuff and would hate for it to stolen. You may, of course, reblog and copy the link to share other places.

***This work is posted on other sights. Links can be found on the pinned post in my profile

****Go follow my other accounts. Links can be found on the pinned post in my profile

*****Currently NOT taking any Requests

******Feedback is welcomed

Forever Tags: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife

Marvel Tags: OPEN

Bucky/Sebastian Tags: OPEN

Story Tags: @mysticalfestivalkoala @cspr-2 @tanyaherondale @lilithknight1111 @lpzallana @snlsamantha

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The two sides were lined up like the soldiers in during war time way back in the day. You couldn’t see it, but you knew that your brothers face was upset and disappointed in you. He knew that the two of you were similar but, yet, so much more different than each other. There was nothing he could say or do to make you change your mind. He was wrong and you knew it. He was just too blind to see it.

“Really, Y/N, you too? You’re on the wrong side of the line, dear.” Your brother said shaking his head. “I thought you were smarter than this? Dad would be so disappointed in you.”

You couldn’t help but let out a fake laugh. “You’re right, Tony,” You gave him the look that you knew pierced through his mask. The look that many people have said to have been a look that Howard Stark gave, to make himself so intimidating. “I’m smart. I’m smart enough to make decisions for myself and darling, this one is the right one. And bringing Dad into this isn’t going to change anything. You Know that.”

“Is that what Cap told you?” Tony pressed. “That his way is right and mine wrong?”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Steve shift his feet around. “He didn’t have to,” your voice grew cold. The way it always did when you and Tony bickered. “I came to that conclusion myself.”

“Well, then, that’s make you a criminal like the rest of them,” Tony stepped back with both his hands up. “It’s not too late to change your mind, Y/N/N.”

You could hear it in his voice when Tony called you by the nickname he gave you when you were little. He was trying everything he could to get you to step out of this and join his side. He didn’t want to fight his little sister. You didn’t want to fight your brother.

But yet, here the two of you are.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” you pulled out your retractable bow staff and opened it.

“I’m sorry too,” Tony said.

“What do we do?” Scott asked Steve.

“We fight,” Steve answered starting to lead the way. “Y/N, make sure you guard Bucky. Everyone knows that if they hurt you too bad, Tony will not hesitate to return the favor. Doesn’t matter what side you’re on.”

“Got it Cap,” you said. You knew that Steve was right. Didn’t matter what side you were on, if someone on Tony’s side hurt you to the point that you were hospitalized or near death, he would not hesitate and return the favor. He was still your big brother after all. You had your differences and disagreements. The two of you wouldn’t let the other get seriously injured.

You guessed the new kid didn’t get that memo.

While both teams were fighting, you and Bucky were weaving in and out of the fighting. The new kid, who shot out webs and talked way too much, threw something very large at you. But Bucky tackled you out of the way. The kid came at you again but when you swung your bow staff at him, he caught it and tossed you off it a good ten feet away. You were sure that you were going to wake up sore in the morning. You stood up and then saw red surrounding the new kid who as tossed into a giant pile of boxes. Your bow staff breaking in half.

You nodded your head towards Wanda who nodded back. She ran back towards the fighting.

“You okay?” Bucky asked.

“I’m fine, let’s keep moving.”

The two of you weaved in and out of the fighting again until Steve caught up with you. The three of you crunched out of the line of fire. You looked back to see your friends fighting. One side to be regulated by the government despite what happened to SHEILD a few years back and to bring Bucky in for something he didn’t even do. The other side, to help you and Steve get Bucky to safety, because you, too, believed he was innocent.

“We’re not going to be able to get everyone to that jet,” You told Steve. “It’s going to be impossible with everything thing going on.”

“Some of us are going to have to loose this for us to win it,” Clint’s voice is heard in your coms.

You knew he was right. You hated it too. The three of you ran towards the hanger. A few tiny missiles whizzed passed you guys from above and hit the hanger. That didn’t stop you guys from running, Wanda managed to stop the debris from the building long enough for the three of you to slide right under it.

“He’s innocent, Nat,” Steve said.

You turned around to see Natasha, your best friend, who was almost like a sister to you, standing there. A firm and disappointed look in her face. Natasha rose up her arm and you knew what was coming. You were prepared to tackle the female Russian assassin. “I’m going to regret this,” she said and slightly moved her arm to the side and shot out a taser. It whizzed passed your head.

You looked to see that Natasha’s taser hit T’Challa. “Go,” she yelled and shot another at the Wankadan king. Making him hit the ground once again.

You guys board the quinjet. You strapped into the pilot seat and started to press all the buttons you need. Even disabling the tracker. Steve and Bucky strapped in and soon, you had the aircraft in the air and flew through whatever you could. Looking down at the airport below, you saw law enforcement showing up. You still knew that you made the right choice in taking Steve’s side.

While you flew to Serbia, Steve and Bucky talked. You drowned them out and thought about your brother. A brother you knew all to well. You’d be on his radar until he found you. Until he had Bucky in his clutches. Until you and Steve were behind bars. Unless something there was something that gave him a reason to stop looking. You just hoped that you can get the information you needed before that ever happened.

Bucky needed his name cleared.

“We should be coming up on the base here soon,” Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality.

You looked a head and saw a snow covered mountain. At first you didn’t see anything but after the fog lifted you saw what looked like a bunker. As you landed the aircraft, from the corner of your eye you saw Bucky’s body stiffen up. You could only imagine what was going through the super soldiers head.

“You got this, Bucky,” You turned to him once the quinjet was landed and secured.

Bucky gave a small smile before he and Steve left the aircraft.

Then you were alone.

With your thoughts.

Time passed slowly as you literally twirled around in the pilot chair. You thought about your only memories of your father, Howard. You were really young when he took you in after your mothers death. Gave you the Stark name and all but that didn’t stop people from calling you his bastard child from one of his flings. Even after his and Maria’s death. But Tony had put a stop to that when he was asked what he thought about having a bastard sister. Let’s just say that night, Tony almost ended the night in handcuffs.

Some movement made you stop turning in your chair. You squinted your eyes to getting a better look through the snow being blown around the wind. The movement seemed to be black and upon a clearer look you saw that it was the King of Wakanda himself.

You gathered whatever weapons you could find in the quinjet and ran outside. The cool brisk air hit your face and tingled your nose. You didn’t let that stop you, you slowly followed T’challa to the door.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Your Highness,” you snapped open one of Clint’s bows.

The Wakandan king turned around slowly. “And why is that?” The thick accent came out slow and firm. You didn’t want to go up against this man at all but you would if you had to.

“Barnes isn’t who you want,” You noticed your voice started to shake. “All the answers we are looking for, it’s in that building.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to do what I must do,” T’challa started to open the door.

You reached behind you and pulled out a random arrow. You loaded it on the bow string and shot it. Luckily, for you, it had been one of those electric arrows. It shocked the Wakandan king and he fell to the ground. “I’m sorry too,” you ran passed him and into the building.

You wandered around looking for Steve and Bucky. Abandoned or not, the place gave you the creeps. You didn’t want to think about what this place did to Bucky. Then you turned a corner and saw a huge contraption that looked like the thing that Steve and Bucky talked about.

That thing that shocked the shit out of Bucky when he was under Hydra control. Suddenly your heart fell a million feet when you thought about the constant pain Bucky had been put through.

“Poor Bucky,” you whispered as your hand touched the torture device. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

You moved on and began to hear voices. You slowly followed the voices until you found them. The voice that spoke had an accent. He talked about the Battle of Sokovia, a battle which almost took your life. Then he spoke about the Vienna bombing and how that was all his doing.

“I told you it wasn’t him,” you spoke as you approached the group. “But you didn’t believe me or trust me.”

Tony turned to you. “I know and I’m sorry.”

“Oh good, the whole family is here,” the strange voice said. “Now the show can really begin.”

There was soft click and hum somewhere in the room. Everyone looked around and spotted an old television set. You guys approached it and when the screen popped up of an old road, you heard Tony suck in his breath.

“I know that street,” he said.

You watch the events unfold on the screen before. Your father dying at the hand of Bucky. You shot a look at Bucky whose entire face had fallen. Your eyes shifted to Tony who looked like he was about to either snap or pass out. You turned to the tv and stopped the video.

“Tony,” you turned back him.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” Tony snapped at you.

“Tony,” Steve cut in.

“Give him to me, Rogers,” Tony’s mask flew back on and turned toward Bucky. You knew he meant business.

You jumped in front of your brother. Bow loaded with an arrow. “Tony, no,” you rose your voice. “It wasn’t really him. He was brainwashed.”

“Stand aside, Y/N,” Tony started to fire up his suit.

“It wasn’t him,” you yelled as you rose the bow up and aim it at him.

“I don’t fucking care,” Tony yelled back. “He killed our parents. No move or so help me.”

You let the arrow go and it hit Tony’s armor and stuck to it. Before he even had time to grab it and toss it, the arrow exploded, sending Tony back into the television set.

“Go,” you told Bucky and Steve. “I’ll be able to hold him off.” You loaded another arrow and pointed it at your brother who slowly got up.

“Are you sure about that?’ Steve asked.

“He won’t hurt me too much,” you stayed focused on Tony who stood and stared at you. You could only imagine that thoughts of anger and surprise he had. “Just go!”

“You don’t want to do this, Y/N/N,” Tony held up his hand again. “You’re giving me absolutely no fucking choice.”

“Then don’t fucking make one,” you kept your weapon in place. “Drop all of this and let us go. No one has to get hurt anymore.”

Without warning or any other word said, Tony hit you. With what, you weren’t sure since he upgrades his suits whenever he’s bored. You flew back into something hard and smacked your head hard enough to put you out.

***

When you came to, your sight was fuzzy and your side was killing you. You were still in the old Hydra base so that was good, Tony hadn’t thought about taking you back. You looked down and as you saw a piece of metal poking out of your side. Biting your lip as hard as you could until you tasted blood, you pulled the metal out of your side.

You placed your hand over the wound to clot the small blood flow. You stood up and swayed some. It felt like your brain was rolling around in your head. Tony must have used some force and it pissed you off.

In the distance you heard the clanging around and yelling. You knew that Tony cornered Steve and Bucky. You followed the the sound and when you found them you saw Bucky on the ground. His metal arm blown off. Blood flood from his head and nose.

“Bucky,” you ran and slide over to him. You checked his pulse and pressed an ear to his chest. “Thank God,” you breathed when the soft sound of his heart reached your ear. “We’ll get you fixed you up.” You swore you saw a small smile on his face when you said that.

Then you looked up.

Steve had Tony in the air and threw him into a wall. You gasped and stood up only to fall to your knees when the pain in your side ran sharp through your body. Steve straddled Tony and grabbed his shield and started to hit his mask with the edge of it. The shield managed to break the mask. You saw fear in Tony’s face as Steve rose the shield once again.

“Steve, no!” You screamed as Steve brought the shield down. But it didn’t hit Tony’s face. It his the arc reactor in the suit. Making the suit shut down.

Steve looked back at you and got up. Pulling the shield out of Tony’s suit. Steve walked over to where you and Bucky were. He pulled Bucky up and looked at you. “Are you okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded as you stared at Tony. Tony stared back at you. His eyes on your bloodied hand that covered your wound. His shifted to Steve who started to walk away. “He gave you that shield,” he yelled. “You don’t deserve it.”

You turned to Steve, who stopped and drop the shield where he stood. You slowly and painfully got up and began to follow Steve you.

“Y/N!” Tony yelled after you. You turned to him. “You leave with them, you won’t have a home to come back to. You’d be forced to be on the run. A criminal. Dad would be embarrassed by your actions.”

You stared Tony in the eyes. “No, Tony,” your voice firm and full of anger. “Dad would be embarrassed by you.”

You turned on your heel and walked away with tears threatening your eyes.

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