#this has been something Loki has been teaching me gradually

[chaos-bites]

There is comfort in the madness - a sort of familiarity. I find myself lost in it sometimes. I allow myself to be whisked away by the winds of the hurricane and embrace its cruelty, as if scratching my skin and breaking my bones was a proper way of showing affection.

I find comfort in the madness, until I don't. Until the pain and fear finally catches up to me, and my mind registers the danger of the situation. The sense of familiarity is comforting, but the winds battering my body and the debris slicing my cheeks pulls me out of the trance-like state I found myself in.

Chaos can be comforting, but recognizing when it's actually needed is an essential skill.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

RoR x teen Hispanic/Latino reader who will start yelling in their native language. Like the switch from their second language to their first language. The family will be confused about what teen reader has said.

Or teen reader is celebrating the day of the dead, in which they decide to make sugar skulls and treats for their biological family members that passed away. In which is they they make an alter of year on the day of the dead.

I’m going to use what Gabriel Iglesias taught me on what happens if you cut a Mexican off in traffic for this one!

-Your family knew that you had your own culture that you still practiced and celebrated, despite being adopted by them. They didn’t berate you or try to change, they actually encouraged it, and it warmed your heart when they asked you to teach them about your lineage.

-There were some oddball things, like your tolerance for spicy food was way higher than others, or that you only preferred certain foods and drinks, but you were appreciative of your family being so welcoming and open to you.

-Loki and Buddha were with you as you were at a flower shop, looking at the shipment of fresh marigolds, as you wanted to prepare your family ofrenda with the prettiest flowers you could find for Dia de los Muertos, something your new family was excited to celebrate with you.

-Buddha had helped you with making homemade Calaveras, as you wanted to try, and he went with you to get some professionally made ones as well.

-Loki held up a bright marigold to you and you smiled brightly, “It’s beautiful!” he beamed, loving your praise as you got the flowers you picked out carefully packed up and loaded into the car.

-Loki tossed the keys to you and you beamed brightly, “Really?!” he and Buddha both laughed warmly, seeing you joy, as you were recently licensed, but still practicing, but you took this chance with glee.

-Once in the car, you were slow to start off, getting out of the parking lot as Buddha nodded, “There you go- you don’t have to speed up immediately, just do it gradually.”

-You heard sirens in the distance and Loki guided you on shifting lanes over, to prepare to pull over if you needed before you heard the revving of a loud engine and a sports car immediately swung out in front of you, running from the police, cutting you off and making you hit the brakes hard.

-Instantly, you were shouting loudly in Spanish, your head going back and forth as you yelled from your chest, furious at what just happened.

-Loki and Buddha both had their jaws dropped, hearing you yelling, catching quite a few swearwords, as you had been a bit of a bad noodle and taught them some swear words, something Brunnhilde gave you a few lumps on your head for.

-As you calmed, you were panting heavily, your face red as you glared before your face flushed red in embarrassment as the two men immediately started howling with laughter, holding their stomachs as the police made it past you safely.

-Your cheeks puffed up in a pout, glaring lightly at their teasing, as they had never seen you so mad before, Buddha poking your cheek lightly, “That was pretty impressive watch you let loose- hey don’t bite!” you turned, snapping your teeth together, making him chuckle.

-Loki started laughing again as you passed the sports car, now pulled over, and the teenager who was driving it, without a license, something you found out later.

-You exhaled softly, happy to see him getting the karma that was owed to him as you continued on your way home, yelling at Loki over your shoulder after he said he was going to tell everyone that you lost your temper and you were threatening him not to.

[necr0bvnny]

I Want To Get Better - Part 1

Pairing: Lady Loki x Original Female Character

Genres: Action, Adventure, Enemies To Friends To Lovers, Slow Burn

Content/Warnings: Needle injection, mention of child soldiers, mention of child deaths

Summary:

A few years after Jacklyne has gotten used to her new life among the Avengers, she's assigned to work with one of their greatest enemies, Loki Laufeyson/dottir. It turns out that because one of his children prefers the company of humans while the other one is a war criminal, Loki's father Odin has slipped into the Odinsleep, leaving her mother Frigga in charge of Asgard. Jacklyne can't imagine ever loving the woman enough to set her free after what she's done to the people of New York, but that's a mother’s love for you. It takes a mission going sideways for Jacklyne to begin to see the value in Loki's company and for Loki’s opinion of humans to gradually turn positive.

A/N: Hi! Loki in this story will be presenting mostly as a female cause. Im gay gjvhmv. Think more like comic Lady Loki, NOT Sylvie from the show. Also ngl the first like 2 chapters or so will be setting up Jacklyne’s character and backstory so sorry in advance about the exposition! I promise we’ll get to the gay stuff soon enough :’)

Link to AO3 post

————

September 1999

After some struggling, the two large men in black combat uniforms finally got their small yet surprisingly strong captive to sit down in the cold chair in the middle of the interrogation room. As they removed their hands from her the girl attempted to bite one of the men but failed, catching only empty air between her teeth. She rattled the oversized handcuffs on her wrists anxiously, growling when she finally realized that there was nothing she could do in this situation but wait and find out what these men had planned for her.

Her large teal eyes scanned the room, observing the odd honeycomb patterns on the walls and unsettlingly shiny table in front of her. Then her focus turned to the men, both tall, muscled and well armed with large rifles in hand. They stood behind her chair, statuesque with their cold eyes glaring down at her, almost daring her to try anything and see what happens. She huffed and turned back around, innocently dropping her bound hands onto the table to show that she would comply.

As if on cue, the door in front of the girl finally opened and in walked an older, fair-haired man with a suitcase. He bared an almost smug grin on his face which made the little one want to lunge forth and slash his mouth open, then see if he'd still smile so brightly. But knowing that would get her nowhere, she resisted and instead kept her dagger-like eyes locked onto him.

"Hello there. My name is Phil Coulson. Can you tell me yours?"

"I'm not telling you anything, puto." She finally spoke up, her little voice thick with a Spanish accent.

Phil ignored the insult which he immediately understood. He pointed at the logo on one of her arms which displayed a skull with six curling tentacles underneath. "So H.Y.D.R.A. uses children for espionage now? Do you understand how much danger you’re in?”

He didn’t intend for that to sound like a threat, but the girl took it as one anyway. “You’ll be in even worse danger if you kill me.”

Phil frowned at her assumption. Did she really think they were going to kill her just because she was a part of HYDRA? “We’re not going to kill you, we just want some answers.”

“Si, I’m sure that’s what you told my family before you slaughtered them!”

His brows furrowed slightly in confusion. “Your family?”

“You know what you did, S.H.I.E.L.D. scum. My brothers and sisters came just like me, and they never returned.”

Agent Coulson suddenly realized what she was talking about. There had recently been several break-ins into the headquarters and other minor bases of S.H.I.E.L.D..Some of the intruders were shot on sight while others were caught but killed themselves via cyanide tablets before they could be questioned. All the bodies wore green and black jumpsuits with the H.Y.D.R.A insignia on their arms. But the strange thing about all of them was that upon closer inspection, all of these intruders were just children between the ages of 8 to 10.

Judging by how this girl had a slightly different uniform with more armor and weapons on her, Phil assumed that within whatever program these kids were in, she must have been in a higher rank. This one knew how to use guns and put up a decent fight with the full grown, highly trained male guards before she was finally subdued and captured, so she was clearly more trained and experienced than the others.

“Ah, your brothers and sisters, right. The ones who failed where you almost succeeded. I must say, you’re clearly more capable than your siblings, but I know you didn’t just teach yourself. Can you tell me who trained you?”

“The best of the best soldiers at H.Y.D.R.A’s disposal. I could kill all of you right now if I wanted to.” She hissed.

Coulson smiled, unintimidated. “I’m sure if you could, you already would have.”

“I can and I will once I get these esposas off.” She rattled her handcuffs.

He ignored this and continued on with the questioning. “Tell me more about your ‘family’. Do you guys have a name?"

"You won't get anything from me. I will protect them until my last dying breath!"

The girl lunged forward, hopping up onto the table and going straight for Coulson but he quickly backed away. Before she could reach him, the guards jumped into action, both grabbing each of her arms.

"Please, calm down. We don't want to have to sedate you." Phil calmly pleaded.

One of the guards shouted out, "Stand down before this turns ugly!"

The girl continued kicking and screaming and growling like a feral kitten, baring her teeth and desperately trying to get out of the man's rough grips but to no avail. Phil begrudgingly placed the suitcase onto the table and opened it to reveal several syringes.

He took one of them out and displayed it in front of her face. "Please, I really don't want to do this."

"Hail H.Y.D.R.A!!"

Agent Coulson frowned, not at all proud of what he was about to do. Glancing up at the two guards behind the girl, he said, "Hold her still."

Suddenly she felt a sharp pinch in her inner elbow, followed by whatever liquid was inside the syringe rushing through her veins. After a few seconds, her muscles relaxed on their own and all her strength seemed to drain from her body. Once the guards felt her stop fighting, they cautiously let go of her and went back to their spots in the back of the room. Tears began forming in her eyes, overwhelmed by how completely helpless she felt. She lowered her head into her crossed arms on the table, heaving and sobbing to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry... Now let's try this again. What is your name?"

She didn't want to say anything, but something in her forced the words out of her mouth. "... J-87."

Agent Coulson smiled, though there was a deep sadness behind it. "Okay. Good. And how old are you, J-87?"

"… I'm 12."

"Can you tell me about your.. family? Your brothers and sisters?"

The girl choked out a whimper at the thought of them. "They're all dead. All 24 of them."

Phil hesitated, but after a moment of silence he couldn't help but lay a reassuring hand on J-87's back. At first she flinched away thinking he was going to hurt her as well, but after a few pets she calmed down and allowed him. She wasn't sure why she did, but it had been so long since someone had comforted her. It may have even been the first time ever. All she knew in that moment was that it suddenly made her relaxed and not want to cry anymore.

"It's okay… If you keep answering our questions, we can find you a brand new family. And a real name, all for you. Would you like that?"

“Mhm..” She whimpered out and nodded.

"Good. Did your family have a name?"

"They called us Project Ocelot…"

[fanficwriter013]

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 26

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 3311

Warnings: Drinking and self-doubt, mentions of past physical childhood abuse

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note:  Written with my inspiration to rebel @avengerscompound​

Chapter 25: Worthy

That same night over dinner we plied the boys with drinks.  Just enough for them to get to that relaxed and slightly competitive state they’d get into when they didn’t have a lot of things to worry about.  After the kids were asleep we all sat around on the couch drinking while Nat tried to talk Clint into trying to pick Mjolnir up again.

“Come on,”  Natasha pushed.  “You know you want to.  And now Thor doesn’t have the pressure of losing Asgard.”

“It’s just a trick.  Besides, why would I suddenly just be worthy now?”   He asked.

“Well,” Thor said, sweeping his hand in the direction of Mjolnir.   “She sits on the table.  Whomever wishes.”

“You know your kids were swinging her around earlier?”  I said.

He looked at me with his eyebrows raised.  “My children?  As in plural?  Both of them?”

“Yep.  Both of them.  Piet nearly hit me with her.”  I said and looked back over at Clint “So if the kids can do it…”

Thor nudged me and gestured to Mjolnir.  “Go on, milady.”

“Me first?” I asked, looking back to Thor.

He smiled brightly.  “If the children can do it…”

I got up and looked over at Natasha.  She gave me a sharp nod and I wrapped my hand around Mjolnir’s handle.  Right away, I felt a crackle of electricity that seemed to start in both my hand and the crown of my head before running through my veins.  I pulled up and Mjolnir swung up easily.  “Like that?”  I asked.

Thor’s smiled widely and held his hand out to me.  “Look at you.  Come here, my queen.”

I moved to him and he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his lap, kissing me deeply.  Lightning crackled off our skin and leaked from our eyes as we kissed and Bruce backed away from us a little.

He pulled back and took Mjolnir from my hand, tossing her in the air so she flipped over and he caught her again.  “Who’s next?”

Natasha held out her hand and Mjolnir flew straight into it.  “Very good, my love.”  Thor cheered.

“Boys?”  Natasha asked, flicking her wrist back and forth with the hammer in her grip.

“Sonovabitch!”  Clint cursed.  “This was a setup!”

Steve got up and rolled up his sleeves, stepping over to Natasha.  “Alright, which ones of you had money on this?”  He asked and held his hand out to Natasha.  Natasha dropped the hammer into his hand and for a second it dropped before he lifted it back up easily.

“I knew it!”  Thor cheered and I started clapping.

“It’s definitely rigged,” Clint whined.

“So does this mean I can fly and do lightning and things?” I asked.

“I can’t say for sure about the flying.  It might take some teaching because it’s more like Mjolnir pulls you along.”  Thor said.

“Can you teach me some things?”  I asked.

Thor nodded and kissed my neck.  “Of course, my queen.”

“Sam, you wanna give this a go?”  Steve asked.  “Or shall I just put her back down?”

“Nah, just put her down,” Sam said gesturing to the table with his cup.

“Sam…”  I whined.

“Hey now,” Sam said, firmly.  “She’s a classy lady.  You can’t just hand her around like that.”

“Why not?  You pass me around.”  I teased.

“Yeah, you’re not exactly classy though, princess.”  Sam countered.

“Hey!”  I yelped and threw one of the cushions at him.

“What about you, Buck?”  Steve asked as he put Mjolnir down on the table.

Bucky shook his head.  “Don’t see how Mjolnir can think I’m worthy when I don’t.”

Steve rubbed Bucky’s shoulder and sat down beside him, pulling Bucky close to him.  “You’re worthy.”  He whispered.  “Of everything.”

Clint got up and tugged on the handle of Mjolnir but it didn’t budge at all. “Aw, hammer.  Come on.  Everyone else can do it.”

I got up and came over to him.  “Hey Clint, pick me up.”

Clint looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but scooped me into his arms.  I held out my hand and Mjolnir flew into it.  Clint didn’t even flinch, he just kept holding me.  “There you go.  Now you’re lifting her.”  I teased.

“Oh yeah?  And how do I use her like this?”  He asked.  “Just throw you at things?”

I broke down into giggles.  “Yes.”

“Alright,”  Sam said getting up.  “Hand her over.”

“Oh, now you want to pass her around?”  I teased holding her out to him.

He shrugged.  “Everyone else has tried.  Might as well.”  He took the handle and it sunk down for a moment before lifting it again.

“You’re worthy!”  I cheered.

He smirked at me.  “You doubted me, Elly?”  He moved Mjolnir in his hands like he was testing its weight.  “I like it.  Balanced, but not heavy.”

“I read somewhere that Mjolnir doesn’t move until lifted is that she never moves.  Rather, when you’re wielding her, the universe moves with it at the center.”

Sam gave me a look and I shrugged. “Just something I read.”

Sam put the hammer down on the table and I went and sat back with Thor.  “Can you show me how to do the hand sparks?”  I asked.

He held out his hand and Mjolnir flew into it before passing her to me.  “Hold out your hand, my queen.”

I held out my hand palm up and Thor put his palm down about an inch over it.  He wiggled his fingers and sparks began to dance over them.  Slowly he brought his hand to mine and slid his hand over my palm.  When he took his hand away the sparks were now dancing on my skin.  I moved my fingers, pushing into the tingling feeling and the sparks kept jumping over my hand.

“That’s it.  You shall be fighting alongside us in no time.  With Mjolnir, your new armor, and the gift you receive at the bonding.”  Thor said.

Steve and Tony both scowled.  “I’m not so sure about that,” Steve said.

“I didn’t make the armor for her to be an Avenger,” Tony added.

I clenched my jaw and the sparks dissipated and I put Mjolnir on the ground beside me.  I really didn’t want to start another argument about them not getting to decide what I did and didn’t do.

“How did you all go selecting clothing for the bonding?”  Thor asked.

“We have dresses,” Wanda said.

“And Pietro predicted that you, you, you and you would all cry,” Natasha said, pointing to Steve, Sam, Clint, and Tony.

“Oh yeah, Tony is going to blub,” Clint said.

“Hey!”  Tony protested.

“Yeah, you will,” Bruce said rubbing his thigh.  “You know you will.”

“How about you boys?  Did you pick out what you’re wearing?”  Natasha asked.

“We all do,”  Sam said, answering for himself, Bucky and Bruce.

“I do too, but these two couldn’t agree on anything,” Clint said, pointing at Steve and Tony.  “They are impossible.”

“I must admit, I too have been unable to find something,” Thor added.

“What happened?”  I asked.

“I want something different, just for this event.  Something unlike my other clothing.”  Thor said.  “I have a vision, but I was having trouble describing it to the tailors and Loki became increasingly frustrated with me.”

“I might be able to help,” Wanda said.  “I could act as a conduit for your thoughts, passing them directly to the tailors.”

“That might work,” Thor said.  “Thank you, my love.”

“Why haven’t you got anything, Steve?”  Bucky asked.

Steve shifted and shrugged a little.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “What I’ve tried on doesn’t feel like - it.”

“Do you want it to be Asgardian?”  I asked.

“Wait,”  Tony interrupted.  “I was told I wasn’t allowed to wear my suit.”

“Oh,” I startled.  “I don’t actually know the rules.  It’s just you were wearing a suit when we were nearly tricked into it.”

“I was told that I wasn’t allowed to wear my suit,” Tony repeated.  “And it’s a wedding suit.”

I startled and shook my head like I misheard him.  “It’s a what?”

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath.  “Nothing.”

“Tony…” I said sternly.

“Shit,” he cursed again.  “El, honey, don’t be mad.”

It felt like my heart was going to hammer its way right out of my chest.  I for the life of me couldn’t understand why Tony would have a suit on Asgard he planned to get married in.  I didn’t even know he was planning to get married.  Or who he was planning to marry.  He’d never spoken to me about marriage.  We were a polyamorous group.  Marriage had never even been on the table as a possibility until Asgard.

“But… I don’t… you have it… and you brought it here from there…  And…”  I stopped and looked at him.  “Who were you going to marry, Tony?”

“No one.”  He said.

“Tony!”  I snapped.  “Tell me your thought processes now before I have a full-blown panic attack!”

“Alright… okay… Elise, please.  You need to listen.”  He said getting up and starting to pace.  “I know what we are okay?  I know.  And as you keep pointing out, I’m not getting any younger.  And my name isn’t on the kid’s birth certificates because there’s only room for one father and one mother.  And there’s no one else.  I wrote it into my will who gets control of the company and that the Avengers Initiative.  But those things are contestable.   And I need to know that if something happens that you - all of you - are gonna be okay.  That you’re taken care of.  So I take the suit with me, because if I need to last-minute, then I have it.  Right?  And it’ll be okay.  And it’s you, El.  It needs to go to you.  I know you’ll do the right thing.  And then I know the babies will get it next.”

I got up and approached him, stepping in front of him and taking his hands.  Gradually I pulled him in against me and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me, his whole body sagging against mine.  “Why didn’t you talk to us about it?”  I asked gently.

He shook his head.  “I keep going to, but then I think it’s okay.  We have time.  And you’re happy.  You like not playing favorites.  Saying yes to marrying me, I thought you wouldn’t because that’s favoritism.”

“Oh honey, I would have understood if you talked to us about it.”  I said gently.  “That’s why you were so ready to say yes when it was sprung on us?”

He nodded against my chest.  “I’ve been ready to marry you for years, El.”

I looked over at the others.  “We can do that, right?”  I asked.  “When we get back.  So we have the legal connection too?”

“Yes.  Of course.  It’s a good idea.”  Steve said.  “We have this here for all of us.  That there to protect us.  And more importantly the kids.”

“Will it matter if we’re gonna live for 5000 years?”  I asked.

“You’re life-spans will be drawn into line with mine, but I don’t think you gain the physical strength of Asgardians,” Thor answered.  “Even if you do, we may be long-lived but we aren’t invulnerable.  We can be killed and they do have dangerous jobs.  So the extra security is wise.”

I ran my fingers around from Tony’s scalp to his jaw and tilted his head up to look at me.  “Was it just the suit you had?”

“Oh uh…” He shook his head and fished his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket.  “No.”  He held a ring box out and popped it open.  Inside was a diamond solitaire ring with a titanium band and the largest oval cut diamond I’d ever seen in my whole life.  “So, do you want to?”

I nodded.  “Yeah.  Alright.  I’ll be your wifey.”

He chuckled and kissed my forehead before taking out the ring and slipping it onto my ring finger.  “Thank you, honey.”

“I love you, you know?”  I asked.

He nodded.  “Sometimes I’m not sure why.  But I know.”

I nuzzled at his cheek and looked over at Thor.  “Why can’t he wear his suit?”

“I’m not sure.  I will have to speak to Loki.”  Thor said.  “She is better versed with the law.”

“It’s okay.  If we’re gonna get married when we get back I can save it.”  Tony said.  “But, could you guys maybe pick for me?”

“Really, Tony?”  Bruce asked.

“Yeah,” he said.  “You all see me better than anyone else.  I want to be dressed how you see me.”

“We can do that,” I said. “It’s gonna be perfect.”

“So what’s going on with you then, Steve?”  Sam asked.

“Everything’s too tight.  I thought we went through this.”  Steve said, closing back up again.

“Alright,” Bucky said, pouring more mead into Steve’s cup.  “Drink up.”

“What are you doing?”  I asked.

“We discovered last night that Steve gets a little more open with his feelings when he’s drunk,” Sam said as Steve sighed and took a long drink of the mead.

“So what are the pre-bonding things we need to know about?”  Tony asked.

“Well, the day before we have to sit in isolation to think and consider our place in the relationship,” Thor explained.  “During this time an artist will paint our bodies, similar to Henna tattoos on Midgard.  Though stylistically it will be different and there will be color involved.  The tattoos will be a map of us as individuals and who we are together.  After that, we will be scrubbed clean and dressed.”

“There’s no bachelor party?”  Tony asked.

“That isn’t a custom here, but if you desire to have one, we could organize it,” Thor said.

“How, if all our friends are on Earth?”  I asked.

“I could send for them,” Thor said.  “Do you know who you’d like?”

“Oh, you gotta get Hill and Coulson here,” Clint said.

“Fury too,” Natasha added.

“I gotta have platypus here,” Tony said.  “Gotta.  Happy too.”

“Viz!”  Wanda said excitedly.  “Scott and Hope seem like obvious additions too.  It would be nice to share this with them.”

“T’Challa maybe?  If he can get here.”  Sam suggested.  “Though it might be a bit of an ask.”

“I’d like Jax and Clarke,” I said.  “What about your brother and sister, Sam?”

Sam shook his head.  “As much as I’d like it if they came I could never get them to support the idea of this in a day.”

“I’m sorry, Sam.” I frowned.

He shrugged.  “It’s fine.  They’re getting there.  If we had longer I could but it is what it is.”

“I think that’s it then, Thor,” Steve said.

Thor nodded.  “I shall send an envoy.  They will bring back those they can.”

“Are there Asgardian strippers?”  Tony asked.

“Strippers!”  Steve cheered and everyone turned their heads to look at him.

“And we have reached optimal level drunk,” Sam said.  “Elise.  How about you come do the questioning seeing as you missed out on drunk Steve last night.”

“Okie dokie.”  I said and moved over to Steve and sat down in his lap.  “You want some strippers, Stevie?”

“Mmm…” he hummed and flexed his fingers on my side.  “Wanna take body shots off you.  ‘Member when we did that?”

I giggled. “I sure do.  What drink did I make you again?”

Steve started giggling.  “You gave me and Buck blowjobs.”

“Both kinds.” I teased and he rubbed his nose on mine.  “Hey, Stevie?  What’s wrong with the clothes?”

“Not good enough.”  He said.

“Why aren’t they good enough?”  I asked as I caressed his jaw.

“Not them.  Me.”  He said.

It felt like my heart broke in my chest.  I pressed my forehead against his.  “Oh, Steve.  Of course, you are.”

He shook his head.  “Couldn’t finish the war.  Couldn’t save Bucky.  Couldn’t stop Schmidt.  Just barely stopped the aliens.  Nope.  That wasn’t me.  Was Tony.  Can’t make the world better for our kids.”

“Honey,” I said, stroking his hair.  “You’ve done plenty.  Everything.”

“I’m a failure,” he said.  “And a fraud.  ‘S not even my body.”

“Honey,” I said pulling back and looking into his eyes.  “You deserve to be happy.”

“Nope.  Not me.”  He said.  “He said.  ‘Cause ‘m gay.”

I tilted my head.  “You don’t think gay people deserve to be happy.”

“Yes, just not me.  ‘M not gay, am I?  But he said…”

“Oh shit.”  Bucky groaned.  I looked over at Bucky and he ran his fingers through his hair.    

“His dad walked in on us once,”  Bucky said.  “We were pretty young.  We weren’t even doing anything.  It was purely innocent.  Just cuddling.  But he beat the absolute tar outta Steve.  He already hated that he was small and sick.  Add being a sissy to it.”

I grimaced and wrapped my arms around Steve, holding him tightly against him.  I knew exactly what had happened because the same thing had happened to me when my dad had found me kissing a girl.  “Steve,” I soothed.  I was worried there was nothing I could say that would get through to him in time.  This was big-issue stuff, and we didn’t have time to figure it out the way it needed to be.  “You can’t let him decide what you deserve.  Stop letting a man who has been dead for 80 years punish you for being the amazing person you are.”

“But I’m not good enough.  Haven’t proved myself.”  He mumbled.

“Happiness isn’t a prize to be one.  You get to just be happy.”  I said.

“But why?  Why me?  Why us?  Why now?”  He babbled.

I kissed his neck and rubbed his back.  “We’ve gotten very lucky that our very lovely space boyfriend got pushed into a predicament that he was told he had no choice in the matter, and by doing that he finally realized that maybe he wanted it too.”

“And we just get a happily ever after for 5 thousand years?”  He asked.

“We do, honey.  Don’t you want that?”

He shook his head.  “Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“We want it.  Does it matter what we want?”  I asked.

“Steven,”  Thor said, getting up and coming over to crouch in front of Steve.  “You are worthy of this, sweetheart.  Please let us in.”

“Space boyfriend,” Steve said softly.

“Let me be your space husband,” Thor said stroking his jaw.

“Space husband,” Steve said and looked up into Thor’s eyes.  “How many husbands will I have?”

“Counting the Hulk you get to have seven husbands and three wives,” Thor said.  “Would you like that.  We want you.”

“That’s so many.”  Steve giggled.

“So many.  With so much love for you.”  Thor agreed and cupped Steve’s cheek.  “Please marry us.  Make 10 people complete.”

“Til the end of the line, punk,” Bucky said.

“Otay,” Steve said, softly.

Thor leaned over and kissed him deeply.  When he pulled back he sat beside Steve and pulled both Steve and me into his lap.

“Now, my love,” I said to Steve.  “Clothes.”

“Has to be perfect.”  He said.

“I’m gonna be sappy, Steve,” I said.  “You ready?”

“Otay.”  He nodded.

“It’ll be perfect because you’re wearing it.”

“Aww…”  Steve cooed, nuzzling at my neck.  “You’re a cheese puff.”

I giggled and stroked his hair.  “Can you choose something?”

He nodded.  “Can Thor help me?”

“I would be honored,” Thor said.  “Now, I think it’s time to get you to bed, my drunken fiance.”

“It is late.”  Wanda agreed.  “Perhaps we should all go to bed.”

There was a murmur of agreement and we got up and headed to bed.  It had been such a good day and even though this whole process was so rushed, a week and a half seemed like it was too far away.

//NEXT

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard, 7

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1717

Warnings: none

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: Written with @fanficwriter013​ who is practically dead.

Chapter 7 - The Palace

Thor led us through into the grand entrance of the palace.  It was a massive hall almost a football field wide with large doors coming off it and staggered stairs up, so it gradually rose up.  Everything was ornately decorated in gold.  From the gilding on the marble floors to the intricate artwork on the ceiling.  There were pillars at even intervals on the way down and in the distance ahead was a large doorway and light spilled from it.  Guards, dressed in gold, were stationed at the pillars on either side of the hall.  It was clear that the hall was built to hold the city if need be and was used for official events.

“Ahead is the throne room, but we are heading to the royal wing,”  Thor said taking a right turn before we reached the throne room

This hall was much smaller but still bigger than any in our house, which was bigger than the average house.  The light coming through the large arched windows and skylights seemed golden too.  It was as if the whole of Asgard was just dipped in gold.

“This palace is vast,”  Loki said.  She was carrying Pietro still who was now looking around a little.  “You could be easily lost.”

“And no FRIDAY to help,”  I joked.

“Was that a challenge?”  Tony asked.

“No.  She’s just not here so I don’t get lost.”  I said giving him a look.

“Sounded like a challenge to me.”  Tony insisted.

“It wasn’t, Tony!”

“Steve, tell her,”  Tony said.  “No, wait.  Bug, didn’t mommy just challenge me?”

Riley nodded her head sagely.  “Is a chawenge.”

“Thanks, Bug.  And what do we say to those?”

“Chawange assepted!”  She roared.

I started laughing and shook my head.  “Oh, god.  What have you been teaching her?”

“Nothing, she’s just my little girl.”  He said.

“So what does that actually mean?”  I asked.  Are you installing AI into the palace?”  I asked.

“No, not the palace.”  He said.  “Maybe you can have a personalized AI butler,”  Tony said.

I looked at him quizzically.  “For me specifically?”

“Well, duh.  You get lost in your own room.”

Steve snorted as he tried to stifle a laugh and I smacked his arm.  “Well, thank you, Tony,”  I said.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and gave me a squeeze.  “Oh, good.  I thought I was going to get in trouble for that one.”

“For making me something because you’re worried about me?  Never.”  I said.

“So, my little bug.  Should I make mommy a bracelet or a robot?”  He asked.

“Robod,”  Riley said without even pausing to think about it.

Tony ruffled her hair.  “You got it, kiddo.”

Thor smiled and turned, opening a door.  “I thought you might like to invent while you were here, so I had this made for you and Banner.”

Tony looked at the lab and then at Thor in shock.  “You made a lab for me?”  He said coming in and slowly walking around the room.

“Yes, of course.  I want you to feel at home.”  He said.

There was the briefest of moments where Tony looked at Thor with the softest and most loving expression.  I think he was starting to see what I had been seeing this week and missed.  Thor was in love with us.  Completely.  We weren’t a side project for him.  He wanted us to be with him here.  Being king was his side project keeping him from us.  Not the other way around.

“Alright, kiddos.  Who wants to look at the space lab?”  Tony said, clapping Thor on the shoulder.

“Yeah!”  Riley said, bouncing a little.

Pietro picked his head up from Loki’s shoulder.  “I wanna.”

Loki put him down and they both toddled off after Tony as he moved around the lab looking at things.  Pietro grabbed Tony’s hand and tugged on it.  “Wanna see, pwease.”

Tony picked him up and Pietro started clambering up onto his shoulders.   “Oh, you want to be up, up, huh?”  He said helping him to get all the way up.

“So how’s it look?  You got everything you need?” I asked.

“I mean, I don’t know what half this stuff is, but finding out is gonna be fun,”  Tony said, a huge smile plastered on his face.

Riley tried to climb up onto a chair to reach one of the workbenches and Loki swooped in and scooped her up and put her on her hip.  “How about we don’t do that?”  She said.

“Look at you being the responsible one.”  I teased.

“Don’t get used to it.”  She snarked.

Riley started to stroke Loki’s hair.  “Little one, did you not learn to leave people’s hair alone?”  Thor asked.

“Is that what happened to the almighty royal hair?”  Loki teased.

“I dot stuck,”  Riley said poking out her bottom lip.

Loki chuckled and kissed Riley’s brow.  “Very good.  Well, it has been 800 years since your last haircut, brother.  You were well overdue.”

Thor rolled his eyes and looked over at Tony.  “Have you seen enough?  Shall we continue to our living quarters?”

Tony agreed and we all headed back out and down a hall.  Thor led our little group to a door at the end of the hall and opened it up.  Inside was what looked like a large living area.  It had a circular couch in the middle of the room around an ottoman and there was a large dining table that would easily fit the entire family.  Around the room were 12 doors.  All closed.  The room still contained a lot of gold, but here they were more highlights to the reds and whites that were decorating the room.

“Oh wow,”  I said coming in.

“This is not my primary dwellings,”  Thor explained coming in.  “I had them built for you when the twins were born.  I hoped that Riley’s lineage might convince you to come to spend time here eventually.  Each door leads to a bedroom for each of us.  And one for the twins.  But you will find the beds are large enough in the adult's rooms to accommodate all of us.  The door directly opposite leads to the main bath.  There are smaller ones attached to each room.”

I looked around the room with my mouth open before turning to Thor.  “How long have you been hoping we will visit, Thor?”

Thor shrugged a little but didn’t answer.  I shook my head a little to clear it.   “This room is for you, my queen,”  Thor said, showing me to one of the rooms.  “It’s second only to mine.”

I looked at him and blinked.  “Why?”

“Asgardian tradition,”  Thor said, not really addressing the question at all.

“What?  What tradition?”  I asked.

Loki rolled her eyes.  “The one where the mother of the heir gets special treatment.”  She explained.  I scrunched up my face and Loki laughed.  “He has really left you in the dark, hasn’t he?”

“Yes.  What is going on with you and not telling us stuff?”  I asked.

He shook his head again.  “I apologize.”  He said and let out a breath.  “As the king’s consorts, you are all considered royalty.  I have chosen you.  As the mother of the heir that puts you in the position of Queen of Asgard and will be treated as thus.”

I am not sure I could have dropped my jaw any lower.  Here I was, still having trouble accepting gifts from Tony after so long together and now I was the Queen of Asgard all of a sudden?  “Right,”  I said and shook my head.  “So, are we expected to act a certain way?”

“No,”  Thor said.  “But you will be treated as Royalty.”

“Should I change?”  I asked looking down at the t-shirt I’d stolen from Sam I was wearing over yoga pants.

“You are not obliged to,”  Thor said.  “At the feast tonight, you will be required to dress up.  Here you can be comfortable.”

“Right,”  I said.  “The feast.”  I looked over at Loki who still had Riley in her arms.  “Loki, would you like to have some alone time with the children?  I know Pietro has a lot of books to show you.”

“You brought me lots of books?”  Loki asked.

Pietro wriggled and Tony put him back on the ground.  He ran over to Steve, getting his bag and then dragged it on the floor over to Loki, sitting down on the floor and immediately starting to pull out books.

“Wouldn’t you like to go to the library, little prince?”  Loki asked.

Pietro looked up at Loki and then down at the books he had just pulled out like he’d just made a huge mistake.  Loki chuckled and crouched down helping to pack them back up.  She swung the bag over her shoulder and scooped Pietro up too so she was holding both of them.  “Say goodbye to your parents.”

“Bye, daddies.  Bye, mommy.”  They said waving as Loki carried them from the room.

I took Thor’s hand and led him to the couch, sitting down with him.  I entwined my fingers with his and looked into his eyes.  “Alright, spill.  What’s going on with you?  Why aren’t you telling us things?”

He let out a breath and lowered his head.  “I didn’t think you would come if you knew the extent to which you would be revered.”

“Of course we would, Thor.  You are part of our family and this is your world.  I would have come much sooner if I’d ever even suspected it was possible or something you wanted.  But even if I didn’t feel that way, Riley is your daughter.  She needs to be prepared for what that means.  I’d be here for her.”  I said.

“Oh,”  Thor said looking down at my hand.

I wrapped my arms around him and nuzzled into his neck.  “Is there anything else we need to be prepared for?”

He shook his head.  “That should be it.  The feast will be grand.  It is in yours and the children's honor.  But you aren’t expected to do anything special.”

“Okay,”  I said and pulled back, looking into his eyes.  “How long have you wanted us to come?” 

He frowned and leaned his head against mine.  “Since the day we met.”

// NEXT

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

so, okay, I meant to do some looking back/looking ahead posts a week ago, but one of the things I’m trying to do this year is spend way less time self-flagellating about things that genuinely don’t matter, so I’ll just say that years and decades are basically human constructs and move on.

it’s been a weird decade, in general. in 2009, depending on the time of year you’re looking at, I was either finishing undergrad or starting grad school. I hadn’t really gotten into the MCU fandom because it basically didn’t exist yet, and the Loki aspect definitely didn’t. I was still living in a nice house and I don’t think my dad had moved out yet; at that point I had some idea that my parents could get their shit together. I got Scully about halfway through that year. I was just starting to get into video games, but I wouldn’t start learning console games for another year. I had just barely begun to question my conservative, evangelical upbringing, because in college I learned that gays and liberals weren’t just Bad People and then that feminism was maybe, actually, a reasonable point of view describing the world as it really was, instead of perpetual victims looking for things to take offense at. (when I say I was raised conservative...) I think I was identifying as a “conservative feminist,” at that point. I still basically didn’t swear, even if I’d at least gotten more okay with hearing it. I can’t remember exactly when I first encountered the idea of asexuality, but I think I was tentatively identifying as “demisexual but still basically straight” when I finished grad school two years later, and it took even longer to realize how Not Straight I am and to start identifying as queer in general.

in 2009, if someone asked me to imagine where I’d be in 10 years, I probably would’ve assumed I’d be married to a dude and I might even have kids, so like...there’s that.

there are other things I assumed/hoped I’d do that still disappoint me, mostly in relation to finishing and publishing some original fiction, but...honestly, I did do a lot. I graduated from college and then grad school (and wrote a thesis for both, plus a paper I’m still proud of about Tess of the D’urbervilles that represented my early understanding of rape culture), and I learned from teaching freshman English as a TA that I absolutely do not ever want to teach. I spent a long time trying to get a decent job and finally ended up with one that actually makes use of my education, and I’ve had it for five years. I did some freelance editing and I was pretty damn good at it, even if it was also kind of miserable. I got majorly into a new fandom and met a lot of great people because of it (and wrote a decent amount of fic). I went to several conventions and got into cosplay. I did some more international traveling, some of it completely by myself. I played a whole bunch of video games, which was a great new hobby. I got into customizing action figures and opened a little Etsy shop. I started collecting Loki stuff. I got a tattoo. I had a seizure and was in a car accident (unrelated and several years apart, but they were both...alarming). I dealt with my parents’ protracted divorce, which is also the biggest thing that made me recognize the fundamental hypocrisy of what I’d always been taught. I loved Scully with all my heart for almost the entire decade, and when he finally got really sick, I made an incredibly hard decision because I wanted to do right by him and said goodbye to my furry little boy. I adopted Hazy probably too soon after, so the transition was a little tough, but pretty quickly I discovered I loved her with all my heart too. I did a lot of work to manage my depression and anxiety; I also spent several months feeling much more actively suicidal than I ever had before, and I survived it. I gradually made an 180° shift in my convictions about--well, politics, but really everything else too, and I got a lot more politically engaged because of it. I woke up to a whole lot of realities about the world, basically. I started regularly calling my representatives, wrote at least a couple hundred postcards to voters, and volunteered with a couple local campaigns (one was unsuccessful, but I also spent some time working to defeat a nasty bathroom bill, and we won that one). I gradually realized I was super asexual, and then that I was also aromantic, and then that I was hella queer in general. I went to Pride for the first time. I started realizing I probably have ADHD and trying to get help for it (no luck so far, but...I’m working on it).

aside from not publishing anything, the one really negative thing about the past decade is...I feel like I’ve lost a lot friends. nothing dramatic happened, but it was easy to drift apart from people I knew in college and grad school after I graduated and I wasn’t with them all the time. the part that bothers me more is the friends I originally met online. a few of them stopped talking to me entirely and I never knew why; others have just kind of drifted even though I’ve tried my best to keep them, and I miss them, and I really...don’t know what to do about that. (I mean, is there any possible way a conversation that boils down to “why don’t you talk to me much anymore” or “do you still care about me in general” is going to go well? because I figure there isn’t.)

in general, though--it’s been a weird, long decade. waking up to the realities of injustice has been tough because it means I spend a lot of time trying not to despair about those realities, and in some ways it was a lot easier when my views were more black and white and I didn’t realize just how ugly life could be. I’m a lot angrier, to be honest (and a lot more existentially exhausted). but...between recognizing my own queerness and gradually shedding the toxic beliefs that informed the first 2/3 of my life, I feel like...I have a much better idea of who I am as a person. I am far, far more fully myself than I was when I just believed what I’d always been taught about the world and about the supposedly default states of being, and I like that person a lot more. I’m really, really proud of myself for how much I’ve changed over the past decade, because frankly that was a lot of work and it’s hard just getting to a point where you can realize that maybe everything you’d always taken for granted was wrong, especially when nearly everyone else in your life still believed it and didn’t understand why you’d reject what they’d always taught you. so that’s really not bad, in terms of things I accomplished, and that’s something I need to remember. 

[writtenbyhappynerds]

Unit 8: Romance

    Welcome to the romance chapter! If you haven’t taken Exam 2 for Fanfiction 101 go do that! It covers the last 3 units, so cliches, crossovers, and realism. If you have taken the exam and want the key to check your answers, DM me. Moving on, romance is a lot of writers’ bread and butter. It is an easy subplot, it can be fun to write, and it allows for both internal and external conflict. Romance can reveal a lot about a character’s personality, and it can be done extremely well where the romance between one set of characters is a hard-earned commitment and partnership between two people. However, more often than not, romance is done very, very poorly. We don’t mean bad grammar or unrealistic standards like we’ve discussed in prior chapters. We mean romance that is not romance and is instead the glorification of abusive and/or underage relationships. Strap in! This is our PSA to the world.

    First things first, lots of stories introduce romance as the hook. It’s Harry Potter x [Blank] or Jason Todd x Reader. Romance is usually what gets readers to click because they want to read a story about a specific character. What writers have to be careful of is to not make two characters falling in love the entire plot. A storyline where characters fall in love is a lot more natural if it is a subplot to a narrative; it should appear second to the actual plot. In Unit 6: Making It Real, we talked about how Mary Sues have storylines where they themselves are the entire plot. Lots of romance stories suffer from this as well, and I know you want to care about and center everything about your characters, but you have to give them something to do. The audience gets bored reading it otherwise because they don’t have the same emotional attachment to your characters that you do, and you can’t force them to. So, make romance a subplot. Make it an internal conflict that becomes external with time, and if you write a slow burn, we should not be able to infer that two characters are going to end up together from the first chapter. The Editor and I have seen stories where characters get together in the first 3 or so chapters and then break up repeatedly. That is not a slow burn, which is a slow gradual incline to infatuation. That is an on and off relationship. It also removes the incentive to read because we as the reader have seen the title. We know they’re going to get back together, and then we stop reading.

    We’d like to say that this chapter is our love letter to romance fanfic. However, as the Editor and I discussed more and more of the errors we find in fanfiction, it’s become a PSA. More often than not we see fanfiction writers glamorize and romanticize abusive tendencies and abusive relationships in their fanfiction as if it is “goals” or “adorable.” If we may remind you all, Twilight was not an example of a good relationship. It actually hit off all 14 nationally recognized signs for being in an abusive relationship. What this means, is that having a love interest who is overly possessive re: doesn’t let the OC hang out with people of the opposite sex, wants to constantly know where they are, is surprise popping-in to check on the OC, etc. That is not healthy because it represents a breakdown of trust in a relationship and less of a, “He’s so cute and caring that he wants to know where I am all the time.” You see this a lot in werewolf fanfiction. Usually, the Alpha is overly possessive, isolates the OC, and then wifes her up. Sometimes it’s against her will. This isn’t cute, and it isn’t charming. It’s dangerous habits and we as writers and readers should not see this kind of dynamic. I’m about to heavily spoil Frederik Backman’s Beartown for my next point. Beartown is an important book. It is my favorite book of all time. If you haven’t read Beartown there is a break in the paragraph here so you can skip ahead of the spoilers. Beneath it will be a spoiler-free summary of my point but using Beartown as an example gives me more context. There is also a blanket trigger warning. If you are easily triggered skip ahead.

*****************************************************************************************

    We as writers and readers usually write abusive fanfiction because we see it as “not bad because he isn’t doing XYZ.” So long as the character isn’t getting assaulted, or isn’t being physically hurt, it’s okay that they did what they did. In Frederik Backman’s Beartown, Maya Anderson is in love with Kevin Erdahl. They have small moments, tiny little slivers of interaction that are cute and warm, and make you smile. In the background, the character Amat is also in love with Maya, but she only has eyes for Kevin. Kevin and Maya are seen as acceptable up until Kevin rapes her and then gets away with it because of the conspiracy of silence and shame that surrounds the hockey town they both grew up in. Kevin is the star hockey player. He’s untouchable, and if we equate it to werewolf fanfic, he’s the alpha. In fanfiction, the audience would never support the relationship between two characters if one sexually assaulted the other because it’s the worst thing you can do to another person. However, just because Kevin rapes Maya that doesn’t mean the other things he does are any less horrible. Kevin is still a piece of shit for gaslighting, manipulating, and lying to the entire town, but those actions are seen as less terrible if Maya is not raped. Abuse takes many forms, and a love interest can still be abusive without ever physically or sexually touching their partner. Look at James Saroka.

    Now, the brilliance of Beartown is that it completely subverts our expectations as readers. It surprises us. Up until the point where Kevin rapes Maya, it is a hazy, charming story of a little town trying to make it. After the action, the entire tone shifts, and the silence that this girl is forced to endure, which is so true-to-life for victims of sexual assault, change the perspective of the audience who don’t care if the town dies in a ditch so long as they let Kevin get away with what he did. Beartown shows us that love is messy and shows us a different form of love. It is not always two teenagers slow-dancing in a kitchen. It is not the shy bumbling boy asking a girl to the dance. It is a pining that sometimes never yields, and sometimes in the case of Beartown, it is a boy walking into the middle of a town hall meeting and breaking the team picket line to say, “My name is Amat. Kevin Erdhal raped Maya Anderson, and I saw it. I was drunk, and I’m in love with her, and I’m telling you that so you don’t say it behind my back when I leave.” Amat and Maya are a great example of a love story that doesn’t work out but is still someone caring passionately for another without any sense of entitlement. Amat never expects anything back from Maya, and he gives up everything to do what he does. It is an example of surprising the reader away from what would’ve been an obvious narrative.

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    Ok, you’ve skipped the spoilers. Anyway, as I was saying, a character is not less of a piece of shit because they do not physically or sexually abuse their romantic partner. In lots of fanfiction, not just werewolf fanfiction, we see romantic interests that are abusive. However, even the writer considers them not that bad because they aren’t doing XYZ. There is a difference between a bad boy and an abuser. The bad boy doesn’t follow the rules because he finds them harmful or stifling. If you’re doing a High School AU or setting, the bad boy wouldn’t want to sit in a classroom with a bunch of teachers who don’t care about whether he learns or not or what they’re teaching. They’re passionate. They oppose injustice, and they don’t go for petty revenge. A bad boy would be on some Gryffindor shit. An abuser doesn’t follow the rules because they see themselves as above the law or better than the rules. In that same High School AU, they wouldn’t sit in the same classroom because they’ve already learned everything they need to know and school is a waste of time. They get mad when things don't go their way. They do their best to keep what they consider their property close to them. An abusive boyfriend would fight just to prove he’s better than others. A bad boy would fight to defend someone. If your character is overly possessive, manipulative, or controlling towards their significant other that is still abusive and it is not okay. You as writers do not have any obligation to follow the mold of what the rest of your genre does. Alpha werewolves do not have to be overly-dominant and controlling: you can be assertive and be a leader without being a shitbag. Loki characters do not have to be abrasive and play mind-games with their OC. You can be mischievous without gaslighting your partner. A definition of gaslighting is putting doubt or messing with someone’s memory by convincing them something did or didn’t happen. That person might think they’re going crazy, that something’s wrong with them, and the person who is gaslighting them will convince them everything is fine and this is the way it’s always been. In Twilight, Edward gaslights Bella after saving her from the car. It’s an example of this manipulative tendency. “Bella, I was standing right next to you. I pulled you out of the way.” Bella tells him he stopped the van (the truth) and he does his best to convince her that she hit her head really hard and isn’t remembering things properly.

    Another sign of an abusive relationship is when a character changes their personality completely to fit the personality of their love interest. Again, this is evident in Twilight, and it’s also evident in the Joker and Harley Quinn in DC Comics. Harley is a very different person and was a different person before meeting the Joker. However, she changed who she was to become something he’d like. You see this in fanfic usually when characters who are written and depicted as “strong” crumble and become weak after meeting their love interest. You also see characters who drop their hobbies, the things they enjoy doing, or their other friends. This happens in writing because the author believes that the plot has shifted from the main character to the main character’s interaction with their love interest. To avoid this, romance should be kept as a subplot. If you have an overarching goal or destination, the romantic interest’s involvement will not interfere with the things that make the main character who they are because they are not the overarching goal or destination. Don’t force your characters to become someone else to better fit the person you want them to fall in love with. Two people can have different hobbies or different personalities. They don’t have to think on the same wavelength.

    Relationships don’t experience outward harm and aggression nearly as much as it is written. Lots of very unrealistic fanfics put this in to add conflict to their story, but fail to understand if a character was getting hurt on a weekly or almost daily occurrence, each instance where the character gets hurt loses its value because the act itself is normalized. Accidents happen, and in some lines of work accidents happen a lot. You see that in spies, criminals, or superheroes where injuries are huge problems, yet their line of work is an open door to injuries, and injuries are expected as part of the job. I had a friend lose an eye because someone smashed a pint glass in his face. I had a family member lose a finger because he cut it off chopping wood. Neither of these accidents was at their places of work, and both are living their best lives unbothered. Normal, everyday injuries occur, and accidents are normal. They should never divulge into a conversation about “protection” because that just takes three years off my lifespan every time I read it. Shit happens. My friend’s girlfriend didn’t wax on about being unable to protect him from the pint glass. My cousin’s wife didn’t try to throw herself in front of the ax to save his finger. Mistakes can be made, and you deal with the consequences. You take a workman's comp, you veg on the couch for a couple of weeks, and you get over it. An injury in either of these contexts would never lead to a conversation about protection, and it’s more realistic if you have a character who gets frequently stabbed, shot, scratched, or punched, for their significant other to say something like, “Oh, damn, again? Sit down, and don’t you dare get blood on the carpets I just paid to have them cleaned from last time.” This happens a lot in Supernatural fanfic. Usually with Dean Winchester, where after an injury that is usually a glorified scratch the character who has been written as capable and badass caves to Dean and becomes a backup dancer to his and Sam’s show. If the character was as capable and badass as written, they wouldn’t let Dean talk to them like that, and they wouldn’t have a relationship dynamic like that. Don’t sacrifice your character’s personality just so it fits better with a member of the cast. That’s not what healthy relationships are like.  

    Speaking of healthy relationships, part two of this PSA. A 15-year old or underage OC (meaning someone younger than 18 years old) can have a crush on an older person: a teacher, an Avenger, etc. They can have romantic feelings for said person. Said person CAN NOT PURSUE THE UNDERAGE PERSON. It is illegal. It is immoral. It is unhealthy. Tony Stark’s daughter or son is not going to end up with Hawkeye, Captain America, the Winter Soldier, Natasha Romanoff, Loki, the Hulk, or Thor. Having a huge age gap like this creates a power dynamic where one side of the relationship has less of a voice than the other because of their much younger age. It creates an unhealthy division within the dynamic where one voice is less important than the other because one voice has less knowledge of the world and is less mature than the other. On top of that, Loki, The Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, the Hulk, Hawkeye, and Thor would never pursue an underage child because they are all grown, mature, adult men and women. They would not want to sleep with and marry a teenager because a teenager is not emotionally mature or available to these men and women. That’s why the age of consent, at least in the US, is 18. I cannot drive this point home enough. If you have to lower the age of the cast to make the age gap less uncomfortable, you already know it’s wrong and it won’t work. You need to pick a different love interest or raise the age of the OC because as we’ve discussed in Rules of the Universe, this is not a good enough reason to change the canon of the cast. Even if the child is “mature,” a mature underage child is still a child. A child being in a relationship with a 30-year old adult is super creepy, and no 30-year-olds other than the ones who creep after underage girls are going to really pursue those relationships. If you are writing members of the cast to pursue underage girls, you’re writing terrible Onision fanfic. If the characters are say, 30 and 45, those are two consenting adults. The age gap is less important because both are older and mature and have the life experience to make these decisions for themselves that a 15-year old does not have. If you are writing teenage romance, keep them within two years of each other. They should be able to go to high school together for at least two years. Even looking at student-teacher relationships. This ain’t Riverdale. Even Riverdale was weird and cringy and no one liked it. Everyone thought she was the worst because she took advantage of a student and sexually assaulted a minor. That is what happened on Riverdale because when you sleep with a minor, that minor is incapable of giving consent, and what you have just done is commit sexual assault. If a minor sends nudes to an adult that is child pornography. If the adult is caught with that they are charged with possession of child pornography. Underage relationships are inherently unhealthy. Do not write them. Do not romanticize them. An underage OC can have feelings or a crush on an adult, but it will always and must always be a relationship that is never fulfilled. A relationship that does not work out.

    Love triangles are another aspect of romance that we see all the time. We talked about love triangles from a plot perspective in Realism. In that unit, they were a bad thing because your OCs deserve a much better story than choosing one person over another. Now, we’re going to examine love triangles from a romantic perspective. They’re tired. They’re old. They’re unrealistic because a girl or boy can be interested in multiple people, and need time to think about which one they’d like to end up with. Remember that we talk about abusive people who would fight to prove they’re superior to someone else. If two boys are fighting to try and prove to the world that they’re a better candidate for the OC, neither of them deserve the OC. If that’s how they treat her potential partner how will they treat her?

    In addition to abusive relationships, stop glorifying and romanticizing self-harm and eating disorders in fanfiction to build angst and give the character “flaws.” Going back to Unit 6: Realism, self-harm, and/or depression and/or eating disorders are not character quirks, flaws, or tools to build angst. They are ugly. They are terrible conditions that hurt so many people, and that people all around the world struggle with without getting help. It isn’t cute to write that a character cuts themselves but stops because their love interest tells them to. Not only is that insensitive, but it’s unrealistic. That’s not how that disorder works. There are many cliches that writers fall back on to build angst in a story, but they are often so poorly executed that they never work at making the audience feel the emotion you as a writer want them to feel. These cliches include depression, bullying, self-harm, homelessness, abusive parents, and/or dead parents. Sometimes these cliches dogpile on top of each other. That is unrealistic as well. If you are going to talk about mental disorders and mental health, the burden of proof is on you the writer to make the audience believe it. You have to research these topics heavily and make sure you understand them in their entirety. Then you have to use them as a conflict of the character, not as a plot to push or challenge two characters in a relationship. You can have a healthy romance without having ridiculous plots happen to main characters. Brooklyn 99’s Jake and Amy are a great example of two characters existing sans toxicity. They don’t need outward harm or threats to their relationship, they just need each other.

    This is a large information dump. We’re aware of that. To close out, we’re going to give and explain good and bad examples of relationships from TV and media. These are the cream of the crop. If you need examples of what to write or what not to write, look here.

    Sokka and Suki are a great example of a good relationship. Neither one ever discounted the other’s ability to be a badass. They respected each other's cultures as well, Sokka going as far as to learn and train with the Kyoshi warriors for the short while he was there. He never tried to “protect” Suki when he knew she could protect herself. In vice versa, Suki was the same way.

    Jake and Amy from Brooklyn 99 are a great example. Their relationship is peak good slow burn. They start off as rivals, become friends, and then realize at different times that they like each other. These realizations hit at different times and Jake is able to set aside his feelings for Amy to support her. A healthy relationship is someone who is happy for the person they love whether they are with them or not. If you compare this to something like Twilight, Edward Cullen was so arrogant that Bella would never be interested in anyone but him that it didn’t matter when he told her she could kiss Jacob if she wanted to. Both Jake and Amy retained the original cores of who they are as people while growing. Amy still color-coordinates, but she’s learned to relax and let go of the uptight attitude she once had. Jake still pulls pranks but has grown up a bit and become less immature. When this couple does face conflict, they confront it together and work out their problems as a team. When a couple finally gets together, their relationship usually flatlines because the author doesn’t know what to do anymore (often because the romance is the entire plot and once you accomplish the plot.. Then what?) but because their relationship was a subplot, it stayed alive even after they got together.

    Hal and Lois from Malcolm in the Middle are a great example of a good relationship. They knew each other so well, despite being very different people. There was respect. They were a team, and no one loved Lois like Hal did. That was always obvious. The scene where Hal and the boys go against Hal’s family because they made Lois cry is forever iconic, and they are a great example of a relationship.

    Ben and Leslie from Parks and Rec are a good relationship. They both respected the other’s career goals, and never forced one into an uncompromising position. They learned to have a balance of love and careers.

    Also, read but not explained: Rapunzel and Flynn Rider (Tangled), Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable (Kim Possible), Pam and Jim (The Office), Shrek and Fiona (Shrek), Percy and Annabeth (Percy Jackson), Gomez and Morticia (The Addams Family), and Santana and Brittany (Glee).

    Allison and Luther from Umbrella Academy are a bad example of a healthy relationship. They are not goals. They should not be romanticized. If you have to say, “it isn’t technically incest,” you already know it’s wrong. Even Gerard Way himself has said that he regrets putting them together. He himself called it incest. It ain’t PG. Don’t use them as an example.

    Allison and her ex-husband from Umbrella Academy are a great example of one person gaslighting and manipulating the other. We know from the show it’s implied she convinced and tricked him into falling in love with her. He created for him an entire world where nothing was real. It’s not a healthy relationship.

    Literally, every relationship in Riverdale is a bad relationship. There is not one relationship that did not have abusive tendencies, manipulation, or one person whining about “protection.” None of them are it. Avoid all of them.

    We have to talk about Twilight. Twilight’s Edward and Bella big mood bad relationship goals. Edward is overly controlling, obsessive, and needs a healthier coping mechanism. Bella herself changed her entire world to revolve around Edward to the point that New Moon has Bella equating her reason to live and self-worth as a person to Edward’s absence. She’s a great example of a character dropping everything they have for a boy.

    Gossip Girl is also filled with unhealthy relationships. According to the Editor, who has seen Gossip Girl many times over, Chuck and Blair are a good example of a couple that can’t exist without some kind of drama. They break up other relationships, cheat on each other, and use other people to make their significant other jealous. If it isn’t something you would expect anyone to put up with in real life, don’t expect your characters to put up with it either. They both were incredibly possessive, Chuck actually attacking Blair for being with a different person (Louis) and ruins a perfectly good mirror. Dan and Serena from Gossip Girl are another example. Dan makes Serena feel guilty and like a lesser person as time goes on. He slut-shames her, talks about her, and when it’s revealed that he is Gossip Girl, we realize as an audience that he’s been saying terrible things about her for years. Leave the, “if a boy is mean to you it’s because he likes you.” crap behind. If a boy likes you, he’s going to be nice to you so you like him back.

    Our final bad example is Jade and Beck from Victorious. Jade West deserved so much better. She was toxic and controlling, and Beck is a great example of gaslighting your significant other. He never claimed to have a girlfriend while many women would flirt with him. He never did anything to make her feel more secure in the relationship, and when Jade expressed concerns, he would tell her she was crazy or controlling when really she had every right to be (Beck x Tori). Jade knew the score and was belittled for it, and Beck let her get herself worked up and played directly into her insecurities.

    Dictated, but not explained bad examples: Pam and Roy (the Office), Princess Bubblegum and Finn (Adventure Time), Matt and Karen (Daredevil), Joker, and Harley Quinn (DC Comics).

    Next week is our last unit. Unit 9: Don’t Like, Don’t Read. We’re going to talk about constructive criticism, and why it is a wonderful thing that you should be open towards. Peer reviews are due in the comments in two weeks’ time. Xoxo, Gossip Girl.

[fluffyseapancakes]

Can you please do a Loki x ticklish!reader where the reader is just teasing Loki and Loki just has enough and wrecks her?

Cute!!

_____________________________

Many people were rather surprised when they discovered that Loki was actually an incredibly patient being. He quietly calculated every possible path he could take and mapped out his movements down to every exhale of his breath. Thor has been the only one who has gotten close to breaking his composure, resulting in the God of Thunder getting thrown into a wall by a very flustered and angry Loki. Since you were a child, you did anything to annoy your brothers, particularly Loki. Thor had a rather short temper so he was easy to break with a couple paint splatters on his dear Mjolnir. Loki, however, was much more difficult to break. He laughed at your immature pranks and corrected you on where you went wrong. He was not interested with any women or men that you knew of in Asgard so you couldn’t attempt to embarrass him in front of his crush. Loud music and your obnoxious singing just caused him to join in too when he saw how annoyed Thor got from the ruckus. Loki didn’t mind when you painted on his armor and cape, and he knew all your hiding spots so stealing his horned helmet was useless. 

After years of failed attempts with annoying Loki, you were close to giving up. Thor saw your dejected face and gave you a little hint that may work. 

Loki hates being teased. 

It was such a simple solution and you were sure it wouldn’t work so you skipped right over that plan, but you were growing desperate and this was the last resort. 

“Hey Loki,” you strolled into his chambers without knocking and hopped onto his bed where he was studying a book. You stared at the pages and assumed it was something about Midgard. 

“Don’t you have lessons to attend?” He mumbled, shooing you away with his hand. You glared at your brother and reached up to tousle his dark slicked back hair. 

“Don’t you ever wash your hair?” You grimaced playfully, “The Midgardians must have a war over the oil on your head.” 

“Hey!” He pushed your hand away and you noticed he was getting a little agitated already, excitement flooded to your heart and you knew you had to push him further. 

“By the way, that thing you call an armor?” You nodded towards his usual getup that was neatly folded on his chair, “You should ask Tony Stark for an upgrade, it’s a little outdated by now isn’t it?” 

“Y/N, whatever you’re doing, I advise you to stop,” Loki seethed through his teeth, you knew him well enough that he would never hurt you, but you’ve seen his outbursts against Thor and you knew the price was going to be great. 

You’ve spent all your life for this, don’t be such a scaredy-cat, you thought to yourself. 

“But why dear brother?” You gently pinched his cheek, “You look so adorable when you’re angry, you’re almost like a baby Hulk with your green outfit.”

“Oh that’s it,” before you could run, Loki pinned you down on his bed and grabbed both of your wrists with his large hand and pinned them above your head. He placed his other hand on your belly and ever so slightly wiggled the tips of his fingers. The sensations were enough to force giggles out of your mouth and Loki’s mischievous smile made you nervous. 

“What’s wrong sister? You’re suddenly out of sass,” he dug his fingers into your sides and you let out a loud squeal. 

“T-Thor will come and save me,” your legs kicked out as he drummed his fingers on your belly and teasingly got closer to your hips. 

“Don’t count on it,” he chuckled darkly and slowly swirled his index finger around your belly button, “he was rather upset that you had bedazzled his precious hammer this morning.” You pouted at the realization that you were on your own and you immediately scanned your brother for any weak spots. He had multiple rather sensitive areas but he had cleverly pinned your down in a way where you couldn’t touch him. 

“There’s no way out of this Y/N,” he grinned as if he read your mind. Before you could guilt trip your way out of this, he dug into your belly and alternated it with drilling his thumb into your hipbones. Thrown off guard by his sudden and brutal attack, you threw back your head as uncontrollable cackles erupted from your chest. He slowly crawled his hand to tease at your ribs, he took the time to count each individual rib and gently dug into the spaces. 

The torture felt like hours but ten minutes haven’t even passed, your lungs were aching for air and your laughter gradually turned into screams. Loki may have a bad reputation but he was always gentle with you and quickly stopped the tickling once your laughter turned silent. 

“That…was cruel,” you gasped out, he released your wrists and you immediately curled into yourself. He laughed and endearingly ruffled your hair. 

“Teaches you to always have a backup plan,” he winked and rubbed your back as the giggles were still pouring out of your mouth. 

“I apologize for intruding on this, but father would like to see us brother,” Thor knocked on the door and grinned at the sight of Loki’s rare genuine smile. 

“Of course he does,” he sighed and got up from the bed with a groan. He turned back towards you and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You watched as your brothers left the room and a weird feeling of dread settled into your chest. 

“Hey Loki?” You called out before he fully disappeared from view. 

“Yes?” He poked his head back into the room and looked at you with concern, he noticed that you were nervous about something but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“You always have a plan, right?” Your question came out as a whisper and you silently hit yourself for sounding so childish. 

“Of course my dear sister, I am the God of Mischief after all,” he chuckled softly, “who’s going to keep you in your place if I’m gone?” 

You laughed and shook your head, you listened to your brother’s footsteps fade away and glanced at Loki’s long abandoned book on his bed. He always had a strange fascination with Migardians, you have always admired them, but his feelings towards them were different. Was it anger? Jealousy? A potential planet to rule? Something was going on in his head and you were scared of what he was capable of. You knew your brother better than anyone in the universe, and you knew better than to try and stop his plans. All you could do was wait and pray that he doesn’t do anything stupid.

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Changing (11)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, X-MEN, DEADPOOL

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  Sequel to Name Calling After merging with your bloodthirsty alternate personality things start getting a little dicey. You’ve got two decades worth of anger to sort through, a feral mutation to figure out how to live with, a biological father who you hate trying to teach you control and if your wedding planner suggests teal for the bridesmaids again you might just eat her liver.

Luckily you have Bucky Barnes by your side, helping you figure things out. What Bucky doesn’t know is that you have found an outlet for the uncontrollable rage, one that absolutely nobody can know about. If your friends and family knew that you were out slaughtering people in the dead of night while they slept, they might be a little annoyed. Wade Wilson is happy to keep your secret though, so long as you keep bribing him with Mexican food. 

For as long as you could remember, all you had wanted was to be good. Now you’re seeing the temptation in the darkness.

Chapter Eleven - The Stags 

While you were living it up in Vegas, the Stag Party was enjoying a sophisticated steak dinner at a private restaurant in Brooklyn.

It was a good thing Tony was paying, because between Thor, Steve, Bucky and Parker, at least two full cows had been eaten.

“Alright, attention please. All eyes on me.” Tony announced.

Loki, Thor, Steve, Bruce, Vision, Peter, Clint and Bucky obliged the eccentric billionaire.

“I just wanted to be the centre of attention for a moment because the next few days are going to be all about my child.” Tony joked.

“It is a privilege of any parent to be outshone by their offspring.” Thor said sagely.

“Speech!” Peter called.

“Groom, you wanna take this?” Tony asked.

Bucky looked around at the expectant faces and took a deep breath.

“Seventy years ago I would chase down any skirt in the hopes of finding ‘the one’. It never occurred to me that she was waiting for me at the other end of a long and difficult journey. There are things about the journey I would change if I could.” He said, glancing at Tony.

“But she once told me that all the pain she went through, she wouldn’t change because it might mean she didn’t end up on the path that led her to me. I would take away every bit of her pain if I could but I wouldn’t change mine and risk loosing her.” He finished.

“You truly do love her.” Loki said with no small amount of wonderment.

“More than anything.” Bucky agreed.

Loki fixed his expression into one of boredom.

“Well congratulations Brother Barnes, I’m sure you and your love shall be very happy.” Loki toasted.

“And may they be blessed with many strong healthy children!” Thor added.

Tony choked on his scotch and spat it out across the table.

“NO! Absolutely not! My baby is not having a baby!” He spluttered.

“I believe it is her choice as it is her womb, regardless of well wishes or her fathers instructions.” Loki sniped.

“I’m with Mr Loki.” Peter agreed.

“Well it’s not as if they don’t get enough practice in.” Clint sniggered.

“No they don’t!” Tony shrieked.

“Stark, what do you think they’re doing that they keep needing to replace the bedframe?” Clint asked.

“She’s jumping up and down on the bed, she’s whimsical like that.” Tony insisted.

“She’s jumping on something.” Steve interjected and after a moment of shock that it was the Captain who had said it, everyone except Tony and Bucky started laughing.

Bucky looked deeply uncomfortable and Tony looked like he was torn between being sick and leaping across the table to throttle Bucky.

“Barnes, a word?” Tony said, standing up and throwing his napkin down on the table.

Bucky wordlessly got up and followed Stark outside. Tony put his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky like he was searching the stars for the right words to say.

“It wouldn’t have mattered if it wasn’t you who killed them. Hydra would have found another way. It’s taken me a long time to fully come to terms with that. So I’m going to say this once, only once and know that I mean it. I forgive you.” Tony said.

Bucky didn’t know what to say and his eyes started to sting as the weight of Tony’s words settled over him.

“Stark... I can’t change what I did but you have to know that I am in control now and I swear, I will never hurt her.”

“I know. I’m not going to threaten you, I don’t need to. I know you love her.” Tony said.

There was a moment of silence between them before Tony clapped his hands together.

“Well, that’s over. Let’s never do this heart to heart thing ever again ok?”

“Agreed.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“A strip club? Really?”Tony asked, amused.

“Don’t blame me for this one. It was Sam, he insisted.”Steve defended himself.

“So you’re the man who’s marrying our favourite little Kitten?” One of the dancers said, eyeing Bucky.

“Your favourite kitten? As in my daughter? You know my daughter.” Tony checked.

“Oh yeah, Deathwave’s a regular. She’s a great tipper.”

“She’s a what now?” Clint asked, beyond amused.

Bucky shrugged at Steve when his friend turned to him with a scandalised expression.

“Pal, I’m long past being shocked by my future wife’s behaviour.” He told the blonde.

Steve turned helplessly to Tony who also shrugged.

“She’s a Stark.”He said as if it explained everything.

“So Sam sent us to a stripclub that the bride frequents?” Clint laughed, holding his ribs as he realized how devious the Falcon had been.

“Uh, why is Parker here?” Steve asked.

“Strip Club’s are 18+ and he’s 18, he just can’t drink.” Tony answered, sounding very lawyer like.

“Gentlemen, let us begin the festivities in earnest.” Thor boomed, coming over with six large pitchers of beer.

“Brother, did you not think to get drinks for our friends?” Loki asked.

Thor had the grace to look sheepish and everyone was to amused to see Bucky clap Loki on the shoulder in pride for calling them his friends.

“You know, if I can find love after everything, you might just have a chance.” Bucky said with a smirk.

Loki rolled his eyes and pulled a flask from his pocket and passed it to Bucky.

“Do not make me regret befriending you Barnes.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Let me tell you something, if you told me I’d be getting drunk with Loki to celebrate my child marrying Barnes....” Tony slurred and seemed to forget he was supposed to finish the sentence as he trailed off and his jaw dropped.

Peter and Loki turned around to see what he was looking at and saw Steve Rogers, Captain America sat at a booth on the other side of the club, laughing uproariously, a woman tucked under each arm.

“I’ve had to much to drink. I’m hallucinating.” Tony whispered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Go Parker!” Clint yelled.

“Someone’s is filming this right?” Clint checked.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Buck.” Steve yelled, throwing his arm around his friends shoulders.

“Stevie.” Buck greeted, laughing at Steve’s inebriated state.

“I’m proud of you Buck. You found her, your girl and you went for it. You didn’t wait, you just went for it. I’m so proud of you.” Steve said, heartfelt despite the drunkeness.

“I didn't have a choice Steve, I really didn't. I need her.” Bucky admitted, not entirely sober himself.

“She’s a good girl and you better treat her right Punk.” Steve warned.

“Are you threatening me?” Bucky huffed in amusement.

“What? No, I’m warning you pal. She’ll obliterate you of you hurt her. That girl has a temper.” Steve chuckled.

Bucky laughed uproariously at the sheer honesty in the statement.

“I think Peggy would have loved her.” Steve said a little sadly.

“They would have been friends. Terrifying for the two of us though.” Bucky agreed and the two chuckled in bittersweet amusement.

“Hey, can you turn that up please?” Steve asked, pointing at the TV screen.

They all gradually turned to look at the screen.

“I’m live here in Las Vegas where The Avenger, Deathwave was celebrating her Hen Party until a few short moments ago when she entered into a deadly battle with Deadpool.” The reporter said and the camera focused on two figures on a rooftop behind her.

Bucky grasped the edge of the bar tightly as he watched Deadpool impale you with two Katanas. You headbutted the merc and pulled the blades out of your body and threw them aside.

Black veins rippled up your arms but before you could blast Deadpool he pulled out two guns and fired at you repeatedly. Your body jerked violently and you stumbled backwards, teetering precariously close to the edge of the roof.

The bar splintered under Bucky’s hand as he was forced to watch helplessly as you fell over the edge and plummeted towards the ground.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

This chapter was an absolute bitch to get out, I struggled with the worst case of writers' block I have ever had with it. Eventually, I realized it wasn't going to get any better and I needed to move on. For those wanting more heartfelt stuff, the reason there isn't more is because it's all in the actual wedding chapters (part of what made this so difficult). I'm somewhat pleased with what I eventually wrote and I hope you are as well.

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first @thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat @inquisitor-selvala @the-corruptor @iovher @kendrawr-kitkat @phoenix-whiskey-tears  @the–real-wombat @buckitybarnes @fairislesheets @angieptt  @meganjonezzzz @dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17  @krystallynx @theonelittleone  @piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes @tarastudiesalot @captainamericasbeard @dropthepizza346 @jaynnanadrews @likes-to-smell-books @drdorkus @life-wanderer @metalarmlover  @animegirlgeeky @jsmith509 @chipilerendi @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @ericasabe  @gravedollie666 @madlykpopfan @l0kisbitch @mywinterwolf @sassysweetstories @life-wanderer @jessieray98 @littledeadrottinghood @myfandomlife-blog @spnrvt @dahkness  @sexyvixen7 @dilaila95  @liveonce-sodoitright  @uuuuuuuuggggghhh @mywinterwolf @myfandomlife-blog  @pinkisokay @thosesexytexasboys

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Rise Up

Chapter Twenty Five

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 4436 Warnings: Swearing, fighting

Song: Certain Things by James Arthur, Chasing Grace

“Oh, Steven. One minute,” Mardöll spoke, materializing beside him. “You are going to need this.”

A puff of gold magic hit him in the face making Steve snort, “The hell was that?” while rubbing his nose to stave off the desire to sneeze.

She spoke to him in a spate of words, the kind his girl lobed at him to drive him wild, until slowly the words gradually morphed into ones he could understand. “Ah, there it has taken effect. Good. You will understand now. Anything you read, anything you hear, now it will not be foreign to you.”

Before he could ask if it would be permanent because he liked listening to (Y/N) murmur dirty things to him in a language he didn’t fully understand, Mardöll was gone back to the trees in her feathered skin. Huffing out a sigh of exasperation, Steve stepped up to the opening. It appeared one of the side supports for the lintel stone had eroded away causing the thing to collapse down into a tight ‘v’ shaped doorway.

It gave him pause for if this was the tomb of the family of Sváfaland, the once kings and queens, why wasn’t it better-taken care of? He glanced again at the castle across the valley and up at the woman who’d led him here, but she remained stoic, watching him with unblinking eyes.

“This is so not how I imagined my wedding day going,” he muttered as he ducked beneath the stone and squeezed through the entrance, trying not to scrape his chest on the rock. The cave opened up on the other side, but he still had to hunch slightly to keep from smacking his head on the ceiling. Cobwebs coated everything, and for the first time in his entire life, Steve wished he was shorter.

Still, he had a job to do, one he had very little information on and took a hard look around. A tunnel led deeper into the earth, and he sighed. “Of course it does. Can’t just have the sword sitting out where I can collect it and go home.”

He knew by the heart beating beside his own (Y/N) was worried. It beat fast, too fast, and her emotions were a wild mix of things too hard to distinguish between. Steve pressed the heel of his hand to his chest and rubbed it there. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” Or he was going to take the sword Mardöll had sent him after and use it on her.

To the right of the opening, he found a torch and dug his lighter from his pocket. No, he didn’t smoke. No, he didn’t know anyone who did, but it had been a habit back in the day to carry one especially during the war. You never knew when it might come in handy. Now it was merely a reminder of simpler times and something he could use to fidget with when bored.

The torch was old and well used, impossible to light, causing Steve to grit his teeth in frustration before tearing the bottom few inches from his button-down shirt and wrap the fabric around the wood. He’d liked that shirt and was even more annoyed for having to destroy it, but at least he had light to wander into the dark as well as a way of removing the majority of the hanging cobwebs from his path.

He had a flash of memory to a movie (Y/N), and the others had convinced him to watch. A classic they’d said. Steve smirked a little, wondering if he could pull off a fedora like Dr. Jones or if he’d look stupid trying. Still, he felt the part today with his burning branch and leather jacket, delving deeper into the mysteries of this long forgotten tomb.

The path led him into the mountain. The space narrowed and grew tighter, beginning to brush the shoulders of his jacket as he ducked lower. Finally, when it was so tight he had to turn sideways, Steve wondered if he was going to get stuck before he ever found what he was looking for.

He came to a wall with an incredibly skinny crack in it, one he wasn’t sure he could even fit through, but when he reached inside, he found free space beyond. Enough to wave his hand around without wacking it into anything. Throwing the torch through first, he wedged himself into the narrow fissure, swore viciously when the stone raked open his chest, breathed out hard to make himself as thin as possible, and heaved through the crack with all his might.

He stumbled when his boot caught and nearly fell on his torch when he landed in a room with a wooden door.

Steve stared at it a little dumbfounded for the door was pristine, as if it had only been erected the day before. The wood was glossy and smooth, the handle appeared to be gold and shone in the dying light of his torch, but it was the light which came from around the edge of the door which had him reaching forward with caution.

“Should’a known,” he muttered as he pulled it open. “When is anything related to Asgard easy.”

He opened the door far enough that he could peer around it, finding it led to some kind of hallway, dimly lit and made of stone. A burst of laughter came from further down, and he slipped inside, closing the door carefully at his back. More laughter and boisterous shouting came from the other end, and Steve started slowly forward, careful not to make a sound.

When he reached the end of the hallway, he peered out into what looked to be a gathering room of some kind. Long tables lined the floor. A mighty fire burned in an open hearth in the center. Enormous beams, carved with all manner of symbols held up the roof.

Men were gathered around all of the tables, but it was the people seated at the table furthest from him that drew Steve’s attention. A man and woman together in the center, holding hands and laughing as they feasted. The woman was lovely in a dark red dress, like something out of medieval times. Blonde with hazel eyes, she laughed at the burly man next to her when he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. To her left was another large man, his clothing all leather and covered in food stains for he ate with enthusiasm. He had her eyes, but he matched his father for hair colour. It was a rusty red as if it couldn’t decide whether it wished to be red or blonde, and had been braided back, revealing his heavily tattooed skull.

The man who could only be king if the woman was queen, had the same unfortunate mop of unruly red hair, but when he gazed out on the crowd of gathered warriors, his eyes were vibrant, bright blue. They were Steve’s eyes, and he stared at the man in shock before taking in the breadth of his shoulders beneath the same style of tunic Steve had seen Loki wear. A wide flat torque sat against his chest, and a crown of spires and stones wrapped his brow.

Steve had to grab the railing which led down the stairs into the room. He knew them in the same way he knew the valley and the tomb. He knew them. “Mother… father… brother…” he whispered, awed.

Then, his eyes darted to the man who sat next to what had once been his father and Steve inhaled sharply. “Helgi.”

The big warrior looked up, almost as if he’d heard the whisper of his name from Steve’s lips, and pressed slowly to his feet. (Y/N) had said he’d worn his hair long and had a beard, but Steve was stunned by just how long and how much beard. Leather-wrapped braids, metal cuffs, feathers, and beads all adorned his hair. A heavy cloak complete with thick black fur fell from his shoulders, revealing a multitude of dark blue tattoos and heavily muscled arms. A metal band hung on his forearm, a ring of some kind which sat just above the metal and leather bracers, while a torque similar to the one on their father rested against his chest.

“Who hides in the shadows of the hall?” Helgi called out, bringing many a warrior to their feet.

Steve walked cautiously down the stairs. “Wasn’t hiding. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

Everyone at the table joined Helgi on their feet, but it was the woman who gasped softly, “How? It is like… a mirror.”

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded.

“How are you here? And how do you look like the twin of my son?” the king demanded.

Steve flicked his gaze to Helgi who stared at him hard. “He knows.”

“You have come for the ritual sword,” Helgi murmured. “Sváfa has returned to the world. Finally, after all this time.”

“I have,” Steve nodded. “She has.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who are you to be worthy to walk at her side? Who are you to be able to protect her? You come here unarmed and unarmored seeking the ritual sword when it would be simpler for me to take your place and return to my love!” He hurdled the table and charged across the room, brandishing an axe drawn from his hip.

Steve kicked up a shield leaning against the back of a bench and kicked out at it, sending it straight into Helgi’s chest. The big man went sailing backward and to the ground at the foot of the table. “I’m Steve. People call me Captain.”

***

Bucky had just dipped you back over his arm when the door to your suite swung open.

“Darling, your sjelevenn is missing, and you are spending your time… dancing?” Loki asked.

“Don’t get snippy. I need something to keep my mind off things, and Bucky agreed to help by teaching me to dance like Steve dances,” you muttered. “If I keep planning like there is going to be a wedding, I figure there may actually be a wedding.”

“Your hopes are justified, Sváfa dear.”

“You found him?” Bucky asked, lifting your with a flourish.

“Not yet, but I think I know who took him. Or, at least I have an idea.”

“Who?” you asked well aware it was nearly a snarl.

“Someone who uses seiðr as easily as I. Someone who knows me well enough to impersonate me without suspicion. Someone who would be as invested in your future as Odin is.”

“No…” you whispered. “It can’t be.”

“Who?” Bucky asked.

You shook your head in denial. “She’s been gone for ages!”

“For fuck sake who!” Bucky snapped, shaking you by the shoulders.

“Freyja…”

“But I thought… she left?” Bucky muttered, clearly confused.

“She did.” You scrubbed your hands down your face. “Are you sure, Loki?”

Loki sighed. “I cannot fathom it being another. Few could pull off the spell used to take him from the jet. Fewer still who could slip past Strange’s notice.”

“Someone want to clarify this whole mess?” Bucky grumbled.

You made your way over to the sofa Bucky had pushed out of the way and sat down with a thump. “Freyja was the goddess who ruled us, the Valkyrjur. She was our Queen and the goddess of love and beauty as well as war and death. By the time I was born, she had already left us, but Tove told stories, ones passed down to her by her mother and so on, back through the ages. She left because of her husband, Óðr.”

Bucky settled on the couch at your side, while Loki perched on the arm behind you, his hand slipping beneath your hair to rub the back of your neck.

“What happened with the husband?” Bucky asked.

“Freyja… has a necklace, Brísingamen. It is said she betrayed him for it. That she saw and lusted so badly for the necklace, she broke her bonds and slept with the ones who created it. She sold her body for the chance to own it. Óðr was so heartbroken, and he fled from her. Left her without a word and without a chance to voice her side of the story. She would never have…” You shook her head. “It wasn’t possible.”

“Why?” Bucky asked.

“Because Aunt Freyja’s bond with Óðr was the first sjelevenn bond. There’s was a love meant to be,” Loki murmured. “To betray one’s sjelevenn… it is not done.”

“You’re so sure?”

“Bucky.” You looked up at him in exasperation. “If she felt one-tenth of what I feel for Steve, she never would have looked twice at another. Not for anything.”

“My mother always said Aunt Freyja proposed the dwarves a wager, one for which she won, and spent the nights away from her sjelevenn drinking them under the table. If she managed to out drink them all in a single sitting, she would take the Brísingamen. She succeeded, embarrassing them, and they started the rumour as revenge.”

“And this Óðr guy just fucked off without waiting to hear her side of things?” Bucky snorted. “Some husband.”

“I have never understood that part myself,” Loki agreed. “But then Óðr was, apparently, never the most… stable of minds. He was a minor god, one associated with madness and poetry. If he thought she’d betrayed him…” Loki shrugged.

You relaxed against Loki’s leg. “Freyja left after she found out Óðr had run away and spends her time searching for him throughout the realms. She left Asgard centuries ago, millennium ago, and hasn’t been back. I don’t understand why she would appear now and take Steve?”

“She didn’t just appear.”

You looked toward the door and smiled. “Dr. Strange.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Tony grumbled.

“I see you all the time. Strange not so much,” you teased, getting to your feet.

Stephen chuckled softly as he made his way over and took your hands. “I have heard of your... change of title, your majesty,” he murmured and kissed your knuckles, his cloak brushing gently against your shin.

“Cut it out, doc or I’ll kick your ass,” you quipped, rolling your eyes.

“Still as testy as ever,” he snickered. “You are doing well? Your eyes and senses have steadied?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yes, very well. If people would stop messing up my wedding day, I’d be even better.”

“Perhaps I can assist with that?” Stephen said as he peered around your room. “There is much magic in this place.”

“Mm. Sword, gauntlet, me.” You shrugged. “Him.” You smacked a hand into Loki’s stomach.

“And him.” Strange nodded toward Bucky.

“Me?” Bucky frowned.

“Something you’re carrying…” Strange cocked his head. “Ah, I see.”

“See what?” you asked.

“Nothing. It can wait. As for this woman… Freyja, she has been here off and on for many years. The Ancient One had documented her comings and goings but she never caused trouble, and they got together once in a while to share tea. She was searching for her lover.”

“So we have just explained to Sergeant Barnes,” Loki quipped.

Strange glanced his way but ignore Loki’s sharp tongue, the two of them had never gotten on. “The Ancient One expressed her trust in the woman, so I have never bothered to interfere with her actions. Unlike some.” He threw a condescending sniff Loki’s direction.

“She’s been here all along?” you asked, changing the subject before the two of them deteriorated into a round of trite and cutting remarks.

“Off and on.”

It made you curious. “Doing… what? I mean, other than looking for Óðr.”

“Apparently,” Stephen’s attention flicked to Bucky and then back to you. “She’s been making jewelry.”

***

Helgi picked himself off the ground gingerly. “Perhaps… I have misjudged you.”

“Perhaps you have,” Steve grumbled, eyeing the others warily when they shifted uncomfortably around him.

“You are strangely dressed for a warrior,” Helgi muttered, holding his chest.

“I could say the same of you.” Steve looked him over.

Helgi laughed, and what tension had been in the room waned. “Come, friend Steve. Sit. Eat at my table. You must tell me what battle you lost to have shorn off your hair. It must have been an epic one for someone so strong to lose.”

Steve knew enough from what little (Y/N) had related, the bits and pieces they’d had time to discuss, to know an offer of hospitality was a way of saying he would not be harmed. But he was still wary as he made his way forward to sit in the offered seat at the end of the table next to the man who could be his hairy twin.

“I do not understand, Helgi,” the woman stated, peering between the two of them.

“It is the sjelevenn bond, mother. He is me reborn.” Sharp, assessing blue eyes stared at Steve. “Though… you are missing your mark.”

Steve arched a brow when Helgi turned his head and pulled back his hair to reveal the tattoo. “She wishes to wait until after the wedding.”

“Bah! She is stubborn as a Bilgesnipe,” he huffed and poured a cup of mead before shoving it at Steve.

“She’s feisty alright,” Steve murmured into his glass, careful to sniff it first, knowing just how strong Asgardian liquor could be.

“Feisty… yes, that is a good word for Sváfa.”

“She goes by (Y/N) in this life.”

Helgi drained his cup and slammed it on the table. “If you are here than she is Queen once more and her name, outsider, is Sváfa!”

Steve set his cup down gently. “She wasn’t meant to be Queen, not this life, but someone keeps messing with our journey. Our souls are out of sync, and she hasn’t been back to Asgard as a Valkyrie in over a thousand years. So you call her what you like, but I fell in love with (Y/N), and that’s who I’ll be marrying today once I get this sword Mardöll said I need, so I’d be much obliged if you’d hand it over so I can get back to my girl.”

“He is strong of will, as you are, my son,” the man beside Helgi chuckled.

“Tell me, brother reborn,” called the man at the other end of the table. “Does the lovely Sváfa remember me fondly?”

Steve glanced his way and scowled at the lecherous grin. “She’s never spoken of you.” A roar went up from the listening hall at Steve’s unintentional burn of the man.

He thrust himself to his feet. “You insult me, stranger, in my own house at my own table?”

“My table,” growled their father.

“Sit down, Heðinn. You exchanged nothing more than a kiss at a time of great turmoil for our Sváfa.” Their mother waved a dismissive hand.

“Why was your brother kissing our sjelevenn?” Steve asked, glaring at Helgi.

The hairy blond shrugged. “It was our way. She wed him before his avenging me, but the bond would not allow her to outlive me for long. Still, it was how things were done. Is it not so where you are from?”

“No.” Steve didn’t bother to elaborate. It would have been fast, her second marriage, as he knew she had died of a broken heart shortly after Helgi.

“So… tell me of yourself, Steve for whom they call Captain. What battle did you lose for that to occur.” He waved his hand at Steve’s head.

“This is how it’s worn now. It has nothing to do with battles won or lost.”

“Yet they call you Captain? Is this not a military title? A rank of a warrior?” the woman asked.

“In a way. Mine is more… honorary, though I’ve earned it over the years.” Steve smiled at her, finding her pretty in the same way he remembered his own mother being beautiful.

“But certainly you’re some kind of warrior?” Helgi asked. “You are as strong as the Berserkers.”

“I assure you, I’m not of (Y/N)’s descendants. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn who got lucky. I work with a group of other warriors. Powerful people. Enhanced people. We’re tasked with saving the world and getting rid of the bad guys. That’s where (Y/N) and I met.”

“You are of Midgard?” Helgi asked, his eyes widening. “How is that possible? Sváfa is returned, but you are not of Asgard?”

“I told you. Someone here is messing with our lives. We’re going to find out who and stop them, but I can’t help her until I get this sword I came for and go home.”

“Well, if you want the sword… take it,” Heðinn said, waving at the sword hung on the wall behind their father and mother’s thrones. “But it won’t be easy for you.”

Steve pushed to his feet but stopped when Helgi grabbed his wrist.

“One must be worthy to take that sword. No other before you has succeeded. Not even I succeeded when I came for it.”

“I thought this was some symbolic ritual. Something done for the wedding.”

“On Midgard, maybe.” He looked up at Steve gravely. “But this is Asgard.”

Steve sat back down. “Explain.”

Helgi’s brow arched in the same manner as Steve’s. “That was the sword of Hurgid, the first of our line. He was the strongest of us. The best and bravest of warriors born in the time of the god's beginnings. It was said he rode with Freyja and at the side of Odin in a time of great upheaval. The sword remembers its first handler. It will accept no one less than Hurgid as its wielder.”

It made Steve frown as he peered at the sword with the golden hilt and bright amber stone set in the pommel. “I already have a sword. Your sword. Rettferdighet.”

He stiffened. “How is that… you should not have that sword.”

“Why?”

“It was taken from me when I died. Lost to my family. How did you come to possess it?” he asked, leaning forward.

“Odin. Odin sent it when he returned (Y/N)’s armour.”

Helgi sat back and scrubbed his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what this means. I don’t know how he came by it. Álfr, he would never give it up. Not even to Odin.”

“He didn’t.” Everyone in the hall jumped to their feet at the sound of Mardöll’s voice. She only scowled at Steve. “You are wasting time. Collect your sword and let us go.”

“What’s the rush?” Steve asked, rising from his chair.

“Your… people grow anxious. The Sorcerer Supreme seeks my presence.”

“Who is she?” Heðinn demanded.

She glared at him. “One who placed you here when you failed.”

Steve watched the brute of a man pale before he bowed his head. “Lady.”

“Why are they all here?” Steve asked. “Aren’t you all supposed to go to Valhalla when you die?”

Mardöll turned her harsh glare Steve’s direction. “Only those who are worthy find Valhalla, and I told you, Steven. Beware the ghosts. Too long have you allowed them to hold your attention.”

He looked around at all the bowed heads, the shame coating their faces, and frowned when he looked at Helgi. “But why are you here?”

“Why indeed?” Helgi murmured. “I have often wondered the same.”

“What is this place really?” Steve asked, turning toward Mardöll.

“Your people would call it purgatory.”

Steve stared at her in horror. “What?”

She only shrugged. “It is where they belong for what was done.”

“And him?” He motioned toward Helgi. “(Y/N) said we didn’t go to Valhalla, but why is he here? Why did you call them ghosts?” Steve demanded. 

Mardöll waved her hand, and everything disappeared, leaving behind Helgi, Heðinn, and a host of tombs. “Ask your brother why you are here.”

“He ain’t my brother,” Steve growled.

She narrowed her ocean eyes. “Ask… him… Steven.”

He looked to Helgi who would not meet his eyes and shifted his gaze to Heðinn. “Why are you here?”

Heðinn wouldn’t look at Steve but turned to face the grave nearest him. “Father always preferred you. The eldest. His heir. The nameless son. The one who barely spoke but was given… everything. What I wouldn’t have given to be in your shoes.” He laughed softly, and it was raw with anger and hate. “And then one day you came home with a name and a sword and a Valkyrie and not just any Valkyrie but the Valkyrie. The damn Queen!” he bellowed, slamming his fist down on the stones.

“So what? Were you jealous? What did you do that would put you in this place?” Steve asked.

He turned and the sword he’d pulled from somewhere scraped along the stones before he lifted it and pointed it at Helgi. “I killed you,” he sneered. “Helgi killed King Hróðmar in battle with Sváfa at his side. He did so in honourable combat, but Álfr wanted revenge. He challenged Helgi to a holmgang. It was the perfect time to take everything I wanted. The throne, Sváfa, Rettferdighet! It was all mine for the taking!”

“And you took it, didn’t you?” Steve muttered, moving cautiously to circle as Heðinn swung the sword his way.

“I did,” he chuckled gleefully. “I was better than you. Stronger than you. Smarter than you! I deserved it all! Me, not you! So I paid the witch woman to slice him with a poisoned blade during his fight with Álfr, and she did an excellent job.”

He lunged, and Steve leaped back, the tip of the blade swinging through the space his stomach had just occupied. “So out jealousy, you murder your brother?”

“I murdered him for everything!” he screamed.

“And it got you what, Heðinn? Nothing!” Helgi bellowed. “And took everything instead.”

“I didn’t know it would kill her! How was I?” he snarled.

“She was my sjelevenn! Her soul, tied to mine for eternity! Of course, she would die when I did!” Helgi lunged but went right through Heðinn, his body nothing more than spirit.

“You haven’t been able to touch me in hundreds of years! Did you think you could now?” He shouted out a bark of laughter.

Steve stepped in and plowed his fist into Heðinn’s face. “He may not be able to, but I apparently can!”

Next Chapter

[capsicletho]

I Can’t Make You Love Me

…if you don’t. You can’t make your heart feel something that it won’t.

a Tony Stark series; author: @clareae | chapter 04

trigger: none

word count: 1853

summary: Reader and Tony found comfort in each other while they were trying to mend their own broken hearts.

a/n: I’m sorry for not updating in sooooo long, but my writing muse up and jumped out of the window one day and i just can’t bring myself to continue the series. But I know I have to finish this so here’s the fourth chapter. I promise it’ll get more fun after this! 

masterlist | ICMYLM directory | previous chapter

As soon as the alcohol entered your system, you were already less ladylike than you usually were when you’re in front of the other Avengers. All these times living in the tower, you have always tried to keep a distance from them; not far enough that you’d be strangers–after all you are living under the same roof–but just enough that you wouldn’t be too close. Even after a few months you still felt like an outsider and you were scared to disturb them with your presence. You know that they would need to go on a mission in a blink of an eye and you don’t want to be in the way, that’s why you’d rather keep to yourself.

But this time, with Tony and the help of a glass of his expensive bourbon which has helped with taking your mind off the fact that Steve haven’t been around as much as you liked, you were able to let yourself loose.

You sipped your bourbon and laughed. “I feel like every child has an obscure dream of their future except for you,” you commented at Tony’s admittance that he always knew he wanted to be like his father–inventing things that would benefit other people. “I wanted so desperately to be a princess. I had all these tea sets and tiaras and frilly gowns. I even joined a toddler pageant once,” you chuckled, reminiscing your childhood. You paused before adding, “I literally forced my parents to attend my tea party which was held every Saturday at 5 PM. I was really serious about that occupation.”

Tony smiled; a hint of sadness was shown across those eyes. Even when the lights were dim, you can still see it. Maybe he was thinking of how he didn’t have that kind of childhood; how his father was always a bit distant from him. 

You cleared your throat and changed the subject, “But anyway that dream went away by the time I was six or seven. I was already in girl scouts then and we had to sell girl scouts cookies, and there was these group of boys who would continuously bully me and my friends. They’d steal our cookies, sometimes he’d be subtle about it, but other times he’d take it and run away. So then, naturally, I wanted to do karate so I’d know how to defend myself–my idea of defending myself was a bit askew then. My dad, who was once in the army taught me some defense moves, and I remember that a few months before I turn seven he did it again, but I was quick to grab him by the back of his shirt and he lost his balance and fell. I sat on top of him and pried the box of cookies he stole from us and then hit him in the head with it a couple times; then I ripped open the box and just stuffed the cookies into his mouth.” You were bursting with excitement as you told the story; your hands were moving around and your eyes were lit up.

“It was really violent,” you laughed, watching Tony slap his knee as he laughed. “After that incident my mum took me off girl scouts and then she put me in ballet class so that I would leave all my boyish attitudes and be graceful,” you exaggerated the last word and said it how your ballet teacher used to say it. The two of you were quiet for a bit, the laughter dying down, but then you spoke up, “I think if I didn’t become a lawyer, I would become a ballet dancer instead. I loved doing it, I don’t know why I stopped,” you smiled.

:I think you’re a pretty good lawyer,” Tony said sincerely.

"How would you know?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, I know,” he nodded slowly and smirked.

“Oh God,” you rolled your eyes and laughed; somehow you knew that he must have also done research on your career when he said he’d find out about more about you. “Is there anything about me you don’t know?” You asked.

“I know you used to be a cheerleader. You did some good backflips,” Tony smirked. It seemed like it amused him to be able to drop snippets of your life and surprise you to how he was able to do it.

“No way. Don’t tell me there’s a video,” you gasped a bit.

“There are plenty of those. You should really use JARVIS to his full potential, not just to have him tell you the time,” Tony chuckled.

“You must have plenty of down time to have stalked me that much,” you teased.

“Eh, between innovating suits and finding Loki’s scepter, there’s really not that much going on for me. It’s all in Pepper’s hands,” he shrugged. He looked at the time, which prompted you to do the same.

“Is that really the time?” You asked rhetorically, gradually feeling the impending exhaustion that you’ve subconsciously been feeling all day. “I need to head to bed or I’ll pass out on the couch,” you chuckled. You stood up too quickly, almost losing your balance, but Tony was quick to grab your arm so that he could steady you.

“You need me to walk you to your room?” He asked; half-serious, half-mocking.

“I’ll be fine,” you laughed as you regained your footing, gingerly walking back to your room.

You woke up the next day and realise that it was a Saturday which meant that you didn’t have to go to work–which is lucky too, because it felt as if your brain was trying to break free from your skull, judging by the way your head was pounding so much. You have no idea how Tony might have endured all this; he drank so much more than you last night. Reaching over, you grabbed the glass of water on your nightstand–it has been a habit of yours to keep water there and today, you were thankful for it. You drank the entire content and forced yourself up, drinking the entire content and then heading to the bathroom. You squinted as you turned the lights on, but then your eyes adjusted quickly.

You pulled your hair back into a bun and splashed your face with cold water. Ten minutes later, after a failing effort to make yourself look less dishevelled than you really are, you made your way to the kitchen, searching for coffee. You decided you need to eat some greasy food to make the hangover go away, so you cooked some bacon and eggs and then sat around on one of the stool, propping your chin up on the kitchen island while slowly munching on your food.

“Good morning, sunshine,” a witty voice called out.

You groaned, “You need to teach me how to not get hangovers,” and then let out a chuckle at the end. You watched as he poured the last of the coffee pot into his mug.

“I do get hangovers, I just don’t show them,” a glimpse of his playful smirk was visible on Tony’s lips just before he sipped on his morning coffee. He then stole a piece of bacon from your plate, munching on it–somewhat it reminded you that you haven’t touched your food as well.

“Did I hear you two laughing at three in the morning?” Natasha walked in and sighed as she started to brew another pot of coffee. You grimaced at Tony, knowing that he should’ve filled up that pot, but he didn’t look too bothered. After the coffee pot started brewing, the redheaded assassin turned around and leaned against the counter, “So, what are you both doing at three in the morning?” She smirked.

“Since when are you so nosy?” Tony remarked at her, placing his cup of coffee down.

Natasha shrugged, “Just making sure (Y/N) is being careful, hanging out with an pompous alcoholic at three in the morning,” she smirked at you. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Don’t worry, he was uncharacteristically tame last night,” you somewhat defended Tony; after all he did help you take your mind off things, and you remembered you haven’t thanked him.

“Ooh, be careful, (Y/N). That means he wants something,” Clint chimed in from behind you and from over your shoulder he grabbed a piece of bacon from your plate.

“Need I remind you that the lady is taken by the Capsicle,” Tony scoffed.

“Aw, don’t sound so bummed old man,” Clint replied. You were enjoying their playful banters, and just when Tony was about to say something witty back, it was interrupted by JARVIS. You were slow to pick it up, but you finally understood.

Apparently on one of Steve’s journey on finding Bucky while also looking for the missing Asgardian scepter, he found a HYDRA base that housed it in Sokovia, and that’s why he wanted the Avengers to assemble as soon as possible. With that, the Avengers who were sitting around you immediately got up and got ready in lightning speed; it was like your world was buzzing and just like that they were climbing into the Quinjet parked on the helipad–or Quinjet-pad, whatever it was called.

You remained seated on your stool as you witnessed the entire thing; usually you’d be saying goodbye to Steve, but this time he wasn’t there. But just before Tony climbed on board, he stole another piece of your freshly-cooked bacon–not because he was hungry but just out of habit, since that was what he and Clint has been doing all morning–and jogged up to the pad, “Bye, (Y/N)!” He called out.

You smiled, “Bye,” you trailed off just as the Quinjet’s doors closed. The minute the aircraft took off, you can feel the emptiness and the silence of the tower dawning on you. You realise how quiet it was without them there; not that you’ve never been alone in the tower before, but usually you weren’t that close to the Avengers.

You’ve always maintained a safe distance from them–not too far that you’d be strangers, but just enough so that you weren’t too close. Somehow, you still feel so out of place in this tower, and if it weren’t for Steve begging you to come and stay with him in the tower–not that he was here often ever since he found out about Bucky–you wouldn’t even think about the idea of staying here. Every time, you feel as if you’ll be in their way or something and that’s why you preferred to keep to yourself, but today’s playful little banter and last night’s drunken conversation with Tony told you that you have nothing to worry about; just like Steve said, they would probably like having you around to chat with–someone with no superpower like them and someone ordinary just to keep them on their toes.

“JARVIS,” you called out to the AI. “Tell me about Sokovia.” You never tried to look up the things they do other than the stories Steve would tell you, but somehow today, you found yourself immensely interested to find out more about their mission.

[raflovestuffs]

Hiccstrid or not Hiccstrid

Hey there! So here’s the beginning of my Hiccstrid one shot’s collection! I tell already: they will follow RTTE Season 4 and follow each other!

I hope you’ll like this one though.

Enjoy some Hiccstrid fight and Stoïck’s reaction to Hiccstrid!

Thanks my friend @wolfie-dragon-rider for make some reajustements! And @noura-fanart for this beautiful cover! <3

Happy reading!

Weeks after the Grimborn brothers’ death, the dragon riders were living peaceful days on Berk. They didn’t leave the Dragon’s Edge with pleasure, far from it, but the erupting volcano had not left them the choice. So it was more with regret that the gang was forced to leave their outpost where they have been through so much.

“Okay gang, take all you can save before the lava comes to your huts!” Hiccup ordered.

It was too late, the Edge was condemned. The Baby Eruptodon couldn’t have held back what was coming anyway. The situation was under control.

The dragon riders had rushed inside their respective huts to get their personal effects. Snotlout was trying to pick up his ‘S’, the twins were wallowing on the boar pit while Fishlegs handled the collection of most books and maps containing Dragon Eye’s information. As to Astrid, she moved to take the weapons she left in her hut.

And then there was Hiccup. The young boy had made his way to the Clubhouse to meditate, closely followed by Toothless. He examined the place, and then sighed. The night fury approached his friend and rubbed him in an affectionate embrace. He uttered a plaintive cooing. The auburn-haired boy stooped to his level by stroking his head.

“I’ll miss this place too, Bud.”

He bounced back and then he moved to the table where the dragon riders and him used to meet up. Hiccup recalled with nostalgia the crazy talks the gang shared, Heather’s great food and Tuffnut’s compliments on it. But he also reminded himself of the gravest moments when the teenagers’ mutual aid reached its peak like after the ‘Viggo fiasco’ for example. This place was full of memories. It was really a part of their life that came down on this island.

An important part.

The young man was now in front of the stables. A smile came to his face at the sight of it. That was where he and Astrid kissed for the first time as a couple. It was in this place that they finally confessed their true feelings for each other. It took time but Astrid’s blindness pushed Hiccup to step outside his comfort zone. Thankfully, her state was temporary.

“Are you okay?” asked a voice behind him while placing a hand on his shoulder.

He turned back, it was Astrid, of course. He gave her a smile he wanted reassuring.

“Just trying to remember the great moments we’ve spent here all together…” he admitted in a sigh.

The night fury rubbed him affectionately. His friend petted his head while smiling.

“It’s true that we had a lot of memories here,” Astrid agreed, taking Hiccup’s hand.

So the teenager moved in front of her and took her hands in turn. Their faces approached until their lips found themselves at only few centimetres from each other as their foreheads touched. They closed their eyes and both smiled before exchanging a tender kiss.

After that, they definitively left the Edge.

Since that, the teenagers got back to a routine life on Berk. They returned to the activities they left before adventuring to the Great Beyond, months ago. Snotlout started testing the village’s weapons again. Meanwhile the twins returned to their crazy activities that consisted of trapping villagers in the name of Loki. Concerning the others, Fishlegs was teaching Berk’s history again to the youngest inhabitants of the island.

Hiccup got back to the same point he was before going to the Great beyond. He didn’t really know what he wanted to do with his life. He would become chief eventually, for sure, but he didn’t want his life to come down to this function. He wanted something else. He needed something else. Hiccup needed freedom and continuing the exploration of the world around him seemed to be a great option.

Regarding Astrid, she had gone back to her engagement in Berk’s guard for the Academy where she was in charge now. She took care of the newest dragon riders’ formation. The gang came time to time to help her with teamwork demonstrations or specific tactics’ teaching.

“Stormfly, spine shot!” Astrid shouted.

The Deadly Nadder instantly obeyed her master who jumped off her back to perform a somersault before the young recruits’ amazed eyes. She landed in front of them, standing upright, imperturbable.

“There you go. That’s how you surprise your enemy.”

She paused.

“A volunteer?”

No response was expected from her question, she did that only for the purpose of impressing them. They didn’t have time to answer anyway because a voice rose above their heads.

“Sorry I’m late!” The dragon riders’ leader apologized, landing in the arena with Toothless.

The blond smiled, looking at him.

“You’re just in time, actually,” she said, putting a hand on her waist.

Hiccup showed a puzzled smile.

“How can I help you, milady?” he finally asked.

She nodded on the side, pointing to the wild dragons captured earlier by the gang for the future dragon riders. He smiled to Astrid, understanding what she expected from him. So the young man approached the reptiles.

“When you want to tame a dragon, the first thing to do is to establish a bond with him. He has to trust you,” Hiccup explained to the group.

He walked towards a Monstrous Nightmare and raised his hand slowly to his muzzle. The dragon grunted a little so the dragon riders’ chief looked away while continuing what he was doing. Finally, he managed to put his hand on the reptile’s head.

“If you succeed in creating this bond of trust with him, even the testiest dragons can be trained,” he assured, stroking him.

“It’s this bond I want you to work on today,” Astrid smiled, kindly. “It’s up to you now.”

Hiccup was the one who had advised her on how to deal with the newest recruits. He was convinced that Astrid could teach them a lot but for that, she shouldn’t scare them from the beginning. It was the reason why he had asked her to not be too hard with them from the outset. She could be more exigent then.

“What were you busy doin’?” the blond asked to her boyfriend.

He rolled his eyes while scratching the back of his head.

“Oh, you know. Making some adjustments on my work.”

He paused before redirecting his attention to the young lady. He caught her by the hips and pulled up his hands along them to caress her waist.

“Why? Did you miss me?” he whispered in her ear.

“Actually… yes,” she replied by turning to him.

They exchanged a smile before kissing without paying attention to the teenagers who were meeting the dragons. Nevertheless, their general fake cough finally got the new couple back to reality. They split, trying to recover the left of seriousness they had. Astrid cleared her throat before announcing:

“Fine, now that you got close to them, you must choose your dragon and he must choose you.”

“How will we know if he chooses us?” asked one of the recruits.

The young Viking turned to her one-legged boyfriend, giving him a complicit gaze.

“He will try to kill you,” she answered calmly.

“Eh… That’s reassuring…” another intervened.

“Come on, let’s go!” the Hofferson girl ordered.

She left a gentle kiss on the corner of the young boy’s lips before going back to join the group. So Hiccup watched her walk away, smiling like a dork. Realizing he wasn’t joining her, she came back to take his hand.

“Are you coming?” she asked.

The chief’s son came to his senses gradually. Sometimes, it was kind of hard for him to read her correctly.

“Sure.”

They set off with the young riders to accompany them to places more conductive to the apprenticeships they were proposing. Snotlout suddenly arrived on the back of Hookfang, taking care of greeting the two lovebirds:

“Wow, seems that Hiccstrid is out!”

“Stop calling us that, Snotlout…”

“What? You’re always together you two, aren’t you? There’s no Hiccup without Astrid since that… well, you know.”

“So?” the blond inquired.

“Well, we ended up confusing you. So it’s easier to call you Hiccstrid.”

Astrid swore furiously. Hiccup put a hand on her shoulder and then, he addressed Snotlout.

“Okay, I think we get the point.”

“Take it easy Hiccstrid… It’s just–”

“Snotlout, that’s enough,” Hiccup cut him off.

But the blond had already gone back to the group of newcomers.

“Good luck with that,” the disturbing Viking laughed.

Hiccup sighed and he scurried to catch up with his girlfriend who was walking with purpose. When he came over to where she was standing, he put a hand on her shoulder again as an act of comfort.

“Hey, sure you’ll be okay?” he asked, worried.

The young lady faked a smile before stopping.

“Yeah… Don’t worry. And leave me with them, I can handle this alone.”

“You’re sure?”

So she nodded in agreement.

“Okay… So can we hang later?”

“Yeah. See you later, Hiccup.”

So the blond left to meet the teens’ group she was in charge of, leaving an astounded Hiccup. The young boy was having trouble figuring her out. He didn’t understand why she seemed to attach so much importance to the Jorgenson’s remark. But truth is, he never had paid the same attention as her to what others could think about them. As the heir to the throne of Berk, Hiccup Haddock the third had always been the focus of village’s attention. After all this years of mockery –even if it was no longer relevant–, he had finally become indifferent to the light of others. This was the case for Astrid. Unlike Hiccup, she had always been placed on some kind of pedestal which gave her attributes of the ideal Viking; athletic and brave. It was because she was considered that, on her side, the girl worried about what others might think about her. Indeed, it bothered Astrid that being a couple with Hiccup defined her in the eyes of others. She didn’t want them to be confused. Because yes, she was above all Fearless Astrid Hofferson, a warrior and a dragon rider. One thing’s for sure, the teenagers didn’t have the same perspective on things. Everything now turned on how they will solve this slight problem.

Hiccup watched Astrid walked away before telling Toothless to follow him. So he wandered into the village with his friend at his side until his feet led him to the forge.

“Hey Gobber!” the young boy exclaimed.

“Hiccup? Don’t you have a class to teach or something?”

“Oh yeah but hum… I’m done so… I came to help out!” the brown-haired boy assured him.

His old employer squinted, not very convinced by the young man’s words but he finally assigned him a task.

“Well, you can take care of the saddles in that area… Yeah, here. Some are already drawn while others just waiting to be cut! You think you can handle this?”

“No problem, Gobber, I’m on it,” the chief’s son smiled, arms full.

So he get to work quickly as if he wanted to forget his recent problems. The two men didn’t say a word to one other for almost an hour before Gobber finally decided to break the silence.

“So… How was training?”

“I came in late…”

“Ouch… Astrid wasn’t too angry?”

Hiccup giggled.

“Not even.”

“It does work between you two uh?”

“Yeah, hum… I guess so…” the young boy mumbled.

But the blacksmith didn’t pay attention to this last remark.

“Did you tell your father?”

My gods no! was Hiccup’s first thought. Talking with his father had never been one of his favourite activities and particularly when it came to address issues of this kind. He stood dumbfounded before Gobber.

“Hum… Well, actually…”

“Hiccup…”

“What?”

“Hum, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” answered the chief’s right hand, squinting again.

“Yeah, yeah…” the young man sighed.

Gobber gave an insistent look to the teenager who replied by rolling his eyes. The blacksmith laughed heartily. This did not stop Hiccup from staying with his old instructor the rest of the day. Despite everything, these two liked to spend time together.

By evening, Hiccup went home. Astrid didn’t come see him in the forge so he figured that she didn’t want to see him for now. Once he crossed the threshold, he intended to go up right away to his room without eating, but it was without counting his best friend’s dragonesque nature whose discretion was not the strongest point.

“Eh! Hiccup, you’re back!” Stoick exclaimed.

“Hehe yeah, it seems like it…” he answered lamely, addressing a reproachful look in the direction of the night fury.

“Astrid came by the house earlier, she was looking for you,” her father suddenly revealed.

The young man raised his head, surprised.

“And what did you…?”

“I said that I didn’t know where you were cause… I didn’t know where you were!”

“Eh…”

“She seemed upset. Did something happened between you two?”

“No… I mean, not really…”

“Are you hiding something from me, Hiccup?”

“What? No! Not at all…” he said by swallowing his spit with difficulty, embarrassed.

“Hum?” asked Stoick again with an insistent gaze.

The chief was becoming impatient so Hiccup lowered his head, defeated, resigning himself to tell him the truth.

“Okay…” the brown puffed.

He raised his head in the direction of his dad.

“Well, the point is that…”

“Yeah?” Stoick encouraged him.

The young boy took a deep breath.

“Okay, Astrid and I, we–”

Suddenly, the door opened to Gobber who rushed towards the chief of Berk.

“Stoick! There’s one of Sven’s uncles who’s fighting with the Geirson son in the Great Hall and it’s not a pretty sight! The village already took sides… You should better take a look, if you ask me.”

“Thanks for telling me Gobber. You see what kind of conflict you’ll soon be in charge of, Son?” Stoick rejoiced by addressing the one he already saw as his presumed successor. “We’ll talk later, I’m going.”

So he left in the direction of the Great Hall, leaving Gobber alone with Hiccup.

“So did you tell him?”

He abruptly turned his head towards the forger.                    

“Well, actually Gobber, I was about to. At least, before you came…”

“That’s no big deal, you’ll talk to him later! All right, I’ll see you later, I better give him a hand!”

The dragon riders’ chief watched Gobber walked away and he sighed. Toothless made a mocking coo to his friend who gave him the stink-eye.

“Fine, laugh at me! Let’s go to bed, bud. Tomorrow is another day.”

The next day, he had to repeat the training with Astrid. He hoped that, this time, the experiment would be different and that others would not annoy them again. Especially today because it wasn’t just them, it was the entire gang who participated. Hiccup managed to be on time for once. Fishlegs and Snotlout were already there but not all the kids had arrived yet. He came towards Astrid who smiled at his approach. He furtively kissed her lips to say ‘hello’ but she intensified the kiss as if she needed to be forgiven for her latest conduct. The young boy let himself succumb to this passionate gesture before being overtaken by reality… Fishlegs started to cough insistently. The young couple split, embarrassed.

“Hiccstrid…” Snotlout coughed to his friend’s intention.

Hiccup glared at him while Fishlegs wondered what was going on. The twins arrived shortly after this incident and the recruits were soon all here.

“Okay, today: teamwork,” the blond announced. “I want you to apply the bond you established with your dragon yesterday. But before that, we’ll show you the kind of things you could do with your dragon when you have become very close.”

She looked at Hiccup who immediately climbed into the heights of the skies to demonstrate. The teens raised their heads, admiring the dragon rider and his night fury soaring through the sky, even if they barely saw them.

“Pull to the side of the arena!” Astrid ordered.

The future chief of Berk soon reappeared but he was no longer on the dragon’s back. He was swooping down to the Academy’s hard ground while the night fury was on his tail to be able to catch him. His girlfriend was watching their flight carefully, afraid that something happened to Hiccup. The two friends were approaching the ground faster and faster so the night fury bounced back to catch his best friend but in the run-up to the ground, he turned his attention to Stormfly who was also concerned about this dangerous figure. Indeed, Astrid’s dragon was looking at their fall with anxiety, distracting the night fury for a brief moment. Unfortunately, it was long enough to make Hiccup shudder when his impact was imminent.

“Toothless!” the boy screamed.

Panicked, Astrid sprang in the middle of the Academy to catch the young man.

“Hiccup, careful!” she shouted.

“Astrid!”

So he crashed into her girlfriend’s arms. He made her fall back, landing on top of her. The night fury managed to level off soon enough to not fall brutally on the ground, but it was already too late. The apprentices put a hand to their mouth to avoid a scream. The gang ran towards Hiccup and Astrid.

“Astrid, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” the chief’ son asked, helping her to get up.

The Academy trainer was holding her head painfully.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine…” she said without conviction.

Then, she raised her head to Hiccup:

“What’s going on with them?” she asked.

“I think Toothless was distracted by Stormfly,” Fishlegs explained.

“Now the dragons started too, we’ll never see the end of it,” Snotlout guffawed.

Astrid scowled before walking up to her dragon who was licking Toothless’ wing. Hiccup followed her.

“Did we miss something?” Ruffnut asked.

“If only you knew…” the Jorgenson said.

Hiccup caressed Toothless before checking nothing was broken.

“Easy there. What got into you, bud?” the young Viking wondered.

“Hiccup, Snotlout is right. Our dragons get close lately and that’s not good for the training.”

“Come on Astrid, don’t you think you’re overreacting? Look, it’s all new to them too!”

“Hiccup, I think you’re missing the point… It could’ve turned out worse just now! If I hadn’t been there…”

“But I’m fine,” he said by putting his hands on Astrid’ shoulders.

However, she removed them before adding:

“Anyway, for you, it’s over.”

“But Astrid–”

“Come on! And take Toothless with you.”

The young man found himself forced to leave the training without being able to put up any resistance. He left, looking sad, summoning Toothless to follow him.

“Fine. Let’s go, Toothless.”

Astrid bit her lip before looking away. The gang watched the duo part, a little confused. Tuffnut turned his head towards Astrid before redirecting his attention to Hiccup and Toothless’ departure.

“Is it just me or is something up with those two?” he asked.

Her twin sister sighed meanwhile Snotlout started to laugh. Fishlegs immediately requested him to shut up his big mouth.

The rest of the session went pretty well aside from the Jorgenson’s understatements that Astrid rushed to hush. Once everybody had left, Hiccup came to meet his friend at the end of the class.

“Astrid, can we just talk?”

“I still have a lot to do Hiccup, so… just leave me alone, please.”

The young man was most definitely increasingly surprised by the behaviour of his partner. He obeyed nonetheless and moved outside the arena, his eyes downcast. He came out and went to the Great Hall, where he sat down on the steps leading to it. Hiccup put his head in his hands and thought. He thought about Astrid, about what would become of their relationship when the recent turn appeared so obvious, though. She no longer seemed to be on the same page as him. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

Suddenly, he felt a hand alighted on his shoulder. He turned away; it was his father.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Son?” he said, sitting down next to him.

The boy sighed, looking at his feet, well his foot.

“It’s Astrid.”

“Oh, there we are.”

“We fought.”

“Hum, I see… But you know Son, nobody said love affairs were an easy thing.”

Hiccup brusquely raised his head towards his dad.

“Wh– What? You mean you knew?”

Stoick nodded, looking like it was nothing while his son stayed stupefied.

“It’s something you feel, Son. I was just waiting for you to talk to me about it yourself.”

The auburn-haired boy passed his hand through his hair, pretending to laugh, looking embarrassed.  

“Well, let’s go back to your problem. Did you try talking to her?”

“Of course! But she avoids discussion!”

“Aha your mother was the same…”

“She was?”

“But you know what works in situations like these?”

“No?”

“The pushy method! You need to ground her back into her problems. If you don’t, you won’t get anything out of her. That’s how I used to do it with your mom.”

“Aha you’re surely right… Thanks Dad,” the boy replied by briefly taking his father into his arms.

He smiled and left on the back of Toothless, determined to do something. He wasn’t going to let this thing run its course, he was going to take action.

He found Astrid at the Academy gate and asked Toothless to catch her by surprise. She uttered a cry of distress before realizing it was Hiccup and Toothless.

“Hiccup! Get me down from here!” she screamed.

“No, there’s no way.”

They flew to a place far away from the village center in order to have a real talk. Toothless finally landed while making sure to leave Astrid on the ground smoothly. She gave Hiccup a strong punch in his shoulder.

“That’s for kidnapping me!”

“Okay, maybe I deserved that one… But we still need to talk Astrid.”

“What do you want to talk about?” she said by turning her back to him.

“Oh come on Astrid, you know perfectly well! I know you were looking for me last night.”

She turned her head towards her boyfriend.

“I was at the forge. I wasn’t trying to avoid you, unlike you…” the young man pursued.

“What?”

“I don’t know but… Since this whole mess with Snotlout, you seem to avoid me!”

“No, not at all…”

“No? And what about this morning uh?”

The girl bit her lip. Hiccup approached her to take her hands.

“Astrid… You know you can tell me anything,” he declared by staring right into her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right. Hiccup, I’m sorry. It’s just that they all make me sick, talking about us only as a couple and no more as distinct persons! I need to be recognised for who I am. I don’t want our relation to define us in the eyes of others, you know?

That’s it, he thought. He smiled by pressing her hand.

“Sure, I understand.”

He paused.

“Do you remember when we were looking for our dragons back in the forest on the Edge, both of us, after the storm?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I told you then?”

“Of course, you told me that there will always be a Hiccup and Astrid.”

He put his hand on her shoulders.

“That’s it, there will always be a Hiccup and Astrid,” he insisted by caressing her right cheek. “We’re a team. There’s no way, we’ll be confused again cause there’s definitely two people who make this team! You’re above all Astrid Hofferson and I Hiccup Haddock.

She smiled before hugging him.

“And,” Hiccup breathed, “we could maybe spend more time together, just you and me, rather than exposing us before everyone. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a good idea Hiccup, thank you,” the blond replied, holding him tighter against her.

As they split, Astrid grasped Hiccup by his collar.

“Oh and one more thing…”

She pulled him before planted a kiss on his thin lips.

“That’s for everything else.”

[helshades]

Good morning, my love! I wondered your thoughts on whether Le Pens would succeed in the election or not? As well as how likely a Frexit would be should she win? And maybe a little curious where all the worldbuilding is, too, *sobs*

A most excellent (although slightly terribly belated) evening to you, my dear! I answer you from the pit of the Helcave, through litres of sno... tears, in this dire hour of ailment, because I have way too tardied already, caught as I was amidst my new crepe paper flower project and the various ills that befall the imprudent cave-dweller; as the Queen of the Undead (by interim) I do command many foul things, but not the viruses, apparently.

Anyway, you sobbing, me sneezing, ‘tis not advancing the worldbuilding terribly, is it? Yeah. Thing is, I miss it too, but it seems the dry spell has got something to do with the horrid lack of new material, for such a long time. While I know I’ve more than enough to go with old notes and three movies as presently, I’d like MOAR and most of all, I’d like a rejuvenated fandom: from my corner of the Interwebz, it had become gradually impossible to work amongst the collective cries for overzealous social justice—“Loki is secretly intersex!” “Stop assigning Groot a gender!” “Why is Star-Lord white?” etc.—and the depletion of our ranks, as exemplified by one notable correspondent who went utterly fruitcake after I disagreed with her on the topic of Jane Foster being written as autistic.

In fewer words, I’m always welcoming prompts, even though I’m approximatively 5,238 ones late, but the engine is due to start running smoothly again as soon as we get a trailer for Ragnarök, or set pictures, or ANYTHING—I, for one, would love to get creative about the system of government in Asgard and how there should be a popular revolution anytime soon, shortly followed, preferably, by Loki getting thrown overboard the blooming planet by an angry mob with the Asgardian version of a pitchfork (probably golden anyhow).

Speaking of usurping tarts forming a terrible basis for government, hey, do you know the best news from Frogland ever? We don’t have to worry only about Marine Le Pen getting her grubby hands over the country! Now, with added psychological torment, enter the right wing’s champion, François Fillon! Here, a good illustration of our current main source of anguish:

Note that the true exploit behind this photo-montage wasn’t to mash up good ol’ Maggie and Tête de Fion, rather to find a photograph of him smiling in the first place. In fact, I’m pretty sure that was Photoshopped—unless a paparazzo caught him right after his early morning flagellation and got him to snicker with a cry of “À mort la Sécu !”

How to better state my thoughts... Well, let’s say that it’s not only the resistible rise of fascism in Europe we should care about, but also the considerably more pregnant and irresistible rise of Angela Merkel-friendly Ordoliberalism and the blatant annihilation of over a hundred years of hard-won social struggles. More than ever, the Right intends to rob us of healthcare, labour protection and free (quality) education—the worst thing being that most of the self-proclaimed Left wants exactly the same thing, albeit on a longer term, perhaps, but that’s about it. Yesterday, we got the results of the Primary election for the Left parties—we have primaries too, now, go figure—and the two finalists are going to be Benoît Hamon (theoretically a leftist, rather on the green sides on several accounts, did confess to great admiration for Bernie Sanders) and Manuel Valls, the only recently-resigned Prime Minister, a man whose hatred of unions was strikingly palpable, and who, a mere months ago, violated all democratic principles to force an unjust labour law on the French people. If he ends up the Left’s main man, the 2017 presidential election is going to be a real blast, and the proverbial choice between Charybdis and Scylla, the sequel, now with Scylla’s long-lost little sister Manuel.

I almost remarked that if Le Pen got elected, at least maybe we’d get something good out of it when she charts Valls back off to Spain, but upon reflection, I dare say the Spanish have suffered quite enough from authoritarianism, plus I guess it would be a poor consolation indeed. Still, I wonder: could Marine Le Pen truly become France’s very own President Trump...? In reality, I suppose she could, but a lot of people who would hesitate before voting for someone who hasn’t totally succeeded in wiping out the memory of her father yet (and quite right, too) won’t bat an eyelid before rushing to the voting booth in the name of François Fillon. Especially old money and the Catholic ultras, but that can’t be all, alas.

And while we’re on the subject of European evils, I don’t really believe in the extreme right version of a Frexit. Yes, I know the nationalists and pals aren’t too warm-hearted when it comes to European regulation, but liberalism isn’t exactly incompatible with fascism, either. I would even dare suggesting that liberalism, especially the current economic model, rapidly spiralling to deregulation and a profound dehumanisation of the peoples which nourish it, encourages the rise of fascism as it drives social classes further apart, disarming the lower ones and freeing the upper ones of any guilt...

Quoting well-known left-oriented philosopher & economist Frédéric Lordon:

‘Here is the question underlying this libellous accusation: wouldn’t leaving the European Union condemn us to sovereignist regression? There is a lot to say, here: first, I don’t regard either “sovereignist” or “sovereignism” as swearwords, unless you would belittle the idea itself—which is the ultimate modern idea. And let me be clear: I don’t say modern the way the journalist stooges of liberalism use “modern” and “archaic” every few editorial; I say modern in the historic sense, as “modernity” is a period which started in the 16th century, and which stated that peoples should not be ruled by commandments issued from any cloud-borne god, or by his Earth-bound delegates—and that the peoples had to take their own fates in hand. This is what sovereignty is about, conceptually. That one would seek to disqualify such idea says a great lot about the anti-democratic principles of the European institutions, and of all those supporting them.’

‘Besides, leaving the Eurozone doesn’t have to condemn you to the shrivelled, regressive, nationalistic and identitarian version of sovereignty—indeed, the latter is entirely possible. But we do not have to choose such regression, because nothing actually prevents us, if we so decide to abandon single currency, from developing as much as we can all relations between peoples, and for good this time. Although not, this time around, by throwing them onto and against one another because of murderous economic policies. What would stop us, out of the Euro, to do the exact same thing we once did before we got the Euro? Meaning international programmes for industrial cooperation (like Airbus, or Ariane Espace), scientific cooperation, and other things aplenty? Do we really need the straitjacket of a single currency for students to travel, for scientists to travel, for artistic exchanges to take place, as well as transversal teaching programmes on national histories and the making of a European history, for developing the translation of the literatures of Europe...? Nothing actually prevents it. It says a lot about the colonisation accomplished by neoliberal obsessions that we are now only capable of thinking that the only possible internationalism has to be this of capital and single currency.’

‘To want to relinquish the Euro doesn’t have to do with monetary fetishism. It’s not about going crazy over mere currency. What we call the Euro is much more than money, banknotes and monetary politics: the Euro is a global institutional system for economic policies. This is what we should abandon completely. In order to change the E.U. “from the inside”, we would have to see organised progressive political forces come into power simultaneously in a great number of member countries. The probability to see an actual government on the radical left is already infinitesimal, so the hypothesis of 6 or 7 at the same time is very nearly ridiculous. The Central Bank or Europe has the power, totally illegitimate, totally implicit, but totally efficient, to bring down any government that would attempt to oppose any of the European treaties...’

The current, and soon-to-be-former, government has done some work, too, to encourage most people in believing that Frexit = fascism, all the while slashing social protection and beating the occasional striker to a pulp, when the genuine article has been making vibrant spiels on poverty and labour, overall nicking a lot of arguments... from the radical left. The paradox isn’t one: both extremes join on populist propaganda, therefore the extreme right had a lot to gain from borrowing facts and ideas from the far left then grind them in its own rhetoric.

‘Labour, under the arbitrary management of the capitalist regime, is odious; people know this because they’re living it, and because they are many more still to be living it. Middle classes used to give zero fuck about the ill treatments inflected to the working class, for the first two decades of the neoliberal system. Now, unfortunately, the level of the muddy waters is rising, and all suffer.’

Sincerely, if Marine Le Pen became the Présidente this May, I’m not too sure the promised referendum on a possible Frexit would get positive results, and lead to the actual Frexit, even if it’s a UKIP-friendly kind of Frexit. People seem mostly afraid of leaving the E.U., although mostly because they keep being told it’s not possible and they shall lose everything and hordes of cutlass-chewing commies are to surge into their very homes to read some Karl Marx to their children. Also, unlike the Brits, we’ve actually got Euro coins to dispose of, you know, and it will be costly.