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arizona2004 · 3 years ago

Text

Safe Haven

Requested: yes

Cazriel x reader

word count: 3914

My face was pressed into the mud; I couldn’t even scream anymore. Three males held me down so I could barely move, but I was too tired from fighting so hard to struggle anyways. I was about to give up when the tip of a blade grazed my wing, and I remembered what I was fighting for. They were trying to clip my wings. I fought against the hold the males had on me to no avail. The fourth male brought his knife down, tearing it into my left wing. And not just once, not twice, but three long wounds. Then onto my right-wing. I tried holding back the tears, but it did me no good. I sobbed into the ground as not only my wings were taken from me, but the freedom and joy they stood for.

When the knife was pulled from my wing, I thought it was done, but the male picked up mud and smothered it in the open wounds. They burned, everything burned, and it was getting blurry. I was going to pass out, I realized. “No one is to touch her, no one is to clean her wounds, no one is to heal her,” the voice of the camp leader rang out behind me before he walked away, and I fell into unconsciousness.

I awoke a few times the next day, but when I did, it was to burning pain at my back and pitying eyes in all the females that walked by. I noticed I was no longer where I had been, pushed off to the edges of the camp, no longer in their way. So I turned my head away and looked at the forest to my left, falling asleep once more.

It was the next time that I woke, that I was not alone. I felt someone crouching to my right, and as I turned to look at him, another person crouched to my left. I whipped my head to the left to find Azriel. Staring at me with pain and grief behind his eyes. “It- it’s gonna be okay,” I heard from my right. Cassian. I turned to him to see the same look in his eyes and tears. He’s crying. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll fix this,” he murmured, pushing my hair back from my face.

I turn my face away, looking toward Azriel, but he’s not there. That’s when I hear the shouting. I look back to Cassian and passed him to the camp. I can’t see the women and children. There are only men; they’re being pushed inside a blue-force field? Yes. All of the men are being rounded up and forced into a prison, and there is Azriel: collecting them and pushing them all inside. I look back to Cassian and notice beneath the sorrow in his eyes is anger. He combs a hand soothingly through my hair, “We’ll take you to Madja. She can heal you,” he says, voice cracking. That’s when I notice the bandages on my back and the fact that I am not in as much pain as before. Whatever infection was settling in has been slowed by magic.

He continues soothing me until Azriel calls, “Cassian, they’re all here.”

“I’ll be right back,” he places a kiss atop my head and stands, walking toward Azriel. I watch in a haze as my males, my lovers, question all the men. Anywho are young, innocent, or remorseful are released. There aren't many.

They decipher who the males at the core of hurting me were. The camp leader and the ones that held me down. They were pulled aside one by one, and I had to close my eyes while Cassian and Azriel took turns hurting them. Through it all, I listen to them fighting, to their yells, and their pleas.

“We didn’t know she was your lover,” some of them screamed.

In the end, I’d turned my head away from the scene. I am no stranger to blood and gore, and I would never be angry with Cassian and Azriel for what they are doing, but I do not revel in watching those males dying. The camp leader is the last of them to die. He spits out cruel and disgusting words at all three of us, and I try not to listen. I’m not sure which of them does it, but his words are suddenly cut off as his head is cut from his neck.

Cassian returns to me first. He pulls the make-shift bandages from my wings, inspecting the wounds beneath, “Az, we need to get her to Madja. We couldn't have cleaned the wounds well enough, and she’s still losing blood,” he said over his shoulder. Seconds later, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and we were spinning through space.

The room we landed in was clean. The floors and walls were pristine white and blue, and everything looked very orderly. Nothing was out of place or messy. A few people were in the large room, and their attention was immediately drawn to us as Azriel winnowed us in. Whatever place this was, it had many doors leading out of it and many healers- I realize as several of the males and females come to inspect my wings. Faintly I hear Azriel speaking to an older female. She must have ordered me moved because soon, Cassian is carrying me through one of those many doors and into a room with nothing more than a bed and a couple of chairs in it.

Then, I must have fallen asleep again because I woke up hours later, remembering very little after being brought to this healing den. I’m lying flat on my stomach, facing Cassian asleep in a chair to my left. Slowly I blink my eyes awake and turn my head. Azriel is seated on my other side with his head in his hands. When I try to speak, only a quiet groan escapes my throat. Azriel sits up suddenly and before he can mask it I make note of the guilt and pain behind his eyes. Cassian also jolts up behind me and moves to Azriel’s side of the bed. He’s far less skilled at hiding his emotions; they’re always written all over his face.

I want to speak, but the words won’t come. As if knowing my question, though, Azriel says, “she couldn’t save them,” Cassian turns his face down, away from me, and Azriel avoids my eyes too, as he continues, “She tried. Several healers did, but they couldn’t save your wings. The infection was too great. You’re lucky to be alive.”

A choked sob leaves me as everything crashes in. My wings have been clipped. I’ll never fly again. I turn my face into my pillow, dry sobbing into it, while Cassian sits on the edge of the bed. I feel his hand hover over my back, but he pulls back, deciding not to touch me.

I feel like I can’t breathe as I heave into the pillow and wish the entire world would just disappear. I know Cassian is saying something, but I don’t hear his words. Azriel hasn’t said anything else, but I can feel his eyes on me and the guilt in them.

After some time, I fall asleep again.

Before I even open my eyes, I know it's not a nightmare as I had hoped. My wings ache with burning pain. “You’re due to take another tonic for the pain soon. I can go get it,” Azriel says from behind me. He must have sensed my pain. When I open my eyes to look at him, he is not who I see. Slouched forward in a chair, head lying on the bed, is Cassian. One of his hands is brushing against mine, and I move it closer, wanting more contact. I look slightly behind me at Azriel and tell him with my eyes that I would like that.

He’s gone for only a moment before he returns. I barely had the chance to blink, and he was already back. Walking over to my left side, where Cassian sleeps, Azriel helps pour the bitter liquid down my throat and gets water to ease that too.

My hand rests on top of Cassians; I briefly look before returning to Azriel. “He must be exhausted to not have woken up yet,” I say.

Azriel looks down at him and puts his hand to Cassian's head, gently running his fingers through the dark curls, “He wouldn’t sleep. Drank so much coffee he couldn’t even dose off; he didn’t want to. Eventually, I knocked him out.”

I raise my eyebrows in shock, but Azriel just smirks slightly looking back to me, “I didn’t hit him or anything. I asked Rhys to go into his mind and put him to sleep for a while,” the moment ends then, the smile leaving his face, “I didn’t want him getting hurt too.”

He blames himself. I know he does. He always does, though I wish he wouldn’t, “It wasn’t your fault, Az,” I murmur, closing my eyes. I can feel him staring at my wings, which have already started to ease as the tonic sets in.

“If we had come to see you sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. Madja said there was nothing we could have done about the infection, even soon after they did it, but if I had been there a day earlier, then we could have stopped it from happening at all,” the words rush out of him angrily at first. He sounds like he’s speaking more to himself than me. Then his voice cracks on the last few words, and I open my eyes to see tears welling up in his eyes.

I look at him for a moment longer and say, “come lay with me,” a confused look crosses his face, “this wasn’t your fault Azriel, now please come hold me.” He didn’t miss a beat. Crossing to the other side of the bed, he laid down on the edge, gently maneuvering himself to only touch me where there was no chance of making contact with my wings.

His right arm slithered under my head, resting his hand on the other side of my body. My right hand felt numb beneath my body, but I pulled it up to brush it with his. He grabbed my hand in his, and so I fell asleep, knowing I held both of my males close to me.

My dream started as a memory. It was the first time I had met my males; crouching next to the creak outside of camp, I sharpened a rusty old knife with a rock. I had been wishing I had a good knife, but that would be too risky to steal, and any protection was better than none. I didn’t hear the figure to my left, and when a branch snapped behind me, I knew I only heard it because that male wanted me to.

Dropping the knife, I quickly stood, turning to greet the male. It had been Cassian. Jokingly he said, “You couldn't hurt a fly with that knife. You really need a lesson in weaponry, don’t you?”

I shouldn't have gotten angry, but I did anyway, “I know about weapons,” I snapped, “but not all of us are privileged enough to have pretty little knives like you,” That's when I became aware of the figure to the side. He laughed deeply, and I was sure he must be laughing at me. I would be punished severely for this.

My attention snapped back to the first male as he spoke, “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, “but you really shouldn’t use that dagger. I’ll get you a better one.”

“Here. She can have this one,” the other male spoke, pulling out a dagger. It is plain and silver with a simple, twisted image of shadows carved onto the surface, leading to the black hilt, “I’ve had it for ages but never really use it,” He detached a sheath from his belt and slipped the dagger in before handing it to me. I looked into his eyes a moment longer before turning away, blushing.

“What do you need a weapon for anyways?” Cassian asked.

I shrug slightly, “protection.”

“From?”

“Everyone,” I say, tucking the dagger under my skirts. I probably should keep it closer being alone with two males, but for whatever reason, I did not feel threatened by them. The memory faded away as another appeared. Only days after I had first met the two Illyrians, the high lord’s most trusted friends, and advisers, they appeared in my camp again. Not for business with the Camp leader, however. I felt them stalking me as I walked through the wood, when I was carefully distanced from the camp, they showed themselves- Cassian with a grin spreading across his face, and Azriel with a carefully blank expression, but curious eyes nonetheless. That was when things began. When I started falling in love with them.

These meetings continued for months. We met inside a small cave just outside the camp. It was glamoured now from anyone's eyes but ours. My little safe haven. It had been where I was running when I realized they intended to clip my wings. I wasn’t fast enough, though.

Now the dreams were turning, twisting into something more terrifying. Darkness rushed toward me as I fell into the next scene. I tried screaming and fighting as hands grabbed me in the dark, but I just kept falling. My whole body burned, and a shiver ran down my spine as I was thrown into the waking world.

The warm heat of a body pressed at my right ran through me as I blinked my eyes open. It was Azriel, I realized now. He brushed his fingers gently down my spine, soothing me, “It was just a bad dream,” he murmured against my hair, pressing a kiss to my head.

On my other side, I felt Cassian squeeze my hand. He was awake now, holding my hand tightly as he laid his head closer to mine. Feeling them beside me was already enough to relieve my aches and ease my mind. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Cassian whispered between us, just loud enough for Azriel to hear. I shook my head in answer, closing my eyes tightly in an attempt to fall back asleep.

I couldn’t, though. So I just lay there with my males on either side of me, trying to pretend we were still in that little cave, and nothing had gone wrong. I still had my wings.

Days have passed now. Most of them were filled with me laying in bed with one or both of my males holding me. Other times though, they involved tears streaming down my face and screams tearing out of my throat. Cassian and Azriel were always there, rocking me through it and reminding me of what I still had, though it felt like I’d lost everything.

Occasionally I’d wake to arguing. I heard the high lord scolding Azriel and Cassian about their actions after the first day, but he didn’t sound seriously angry. Mostly I heard the whispered arguments between Azriel and Cassian about me. My treatment, my pain, how best to help me. I hated that they were arguing. It happened less and less as I recovered, but I still hated it.

Neither male was here now though, it was a rare occurrence. I had told both males the other was staying with me and told him he should go eat. I needed the alone time, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. Rather than stay in bed, I stood on numb legs and hobbled over to the bath. It has been too long since I’ve bathed. How Cassian and Azriel managed to be near me without wanting to vomit at the stench was beyond me.

Kneeling on the ground, I held my hand under the water as it rushed out. When the water was ready and smelling of lavender, I submerged myself to the waist. Slowly I let my wings touch the water as I lowered myself further. When I was finally in the water entirely, I relaxed and leaned my head back before slipping down lower to wet my hair.

When I was still under the water, finally relaxed, I breathed out slowly. Everything was peaceful until a pair of large hands gripped my upper arms and pulled me from the water. My eyes shot open, and I fought the male until I noticed it was Azriel, “Stop!” I yelled at him, “What on earth are you doing?” I shouted. I shot a glance to Cassian, standing in the doorway. He looked upset, and Az was definitely angry.

“What are you doing?” he replied with a growl. I tried pulling my arms away from him. He loosened his grip, but only enough to no longer hurt. I still couldn’t get away.

“I was bathing,” I glared at him, “I didn’t realize that wasn’t allowed.”

“Bullshit,” he said

“Az…” Cassian spoke.

“You’re not allowed to kill yourself! I won’t let you,” Azriel shouted.

What, I thought, “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I say calmly, looking straight into his eyes, “I just wanted a bath.” Suddenly a wave of guilt hit me because I’d made them think that. Azriel must have believed me because he released my arms and took a step back.

I pulled my arms up to cross my chest and looked away from them. Cassian pulled Azriel out of the bathroom, but neither of them closed the door. I returned to the bath but was no longer relaxed. I decided to quickly clean up and return to bed. The room was nearly silent except for the short whispered argument between the males. When I stepped into the room to dress, they both studiously looked away from me and one another. I dressed quickly and laid in bed, falling asleep before either of them could try and talk to me.

After weeks had passed, I was sitting and walking again. Most of the pain had gone, now only phantom pains and sore scars remained. I was barely able to move my wings, and Madja said with some physical therapy, I would regain much of the movement but never enough to fly again.

Cassian sat with me now, massaging my back. Things had gotten better. I’ve tried imagining life without my wings, and as long as I remember that I’ll always have my batboys, things aren't so bad. “Do you wanna go for a fly,” Cassian whispered.

“I can’t,” I said, tears welling up as I imagined I could.

Cassian pulled me up, “come on,” he said, pulling me by the wrist. He walked us up to the roof and stood behind me. Pulling my hips to him, he said, “stand on my feet.” I looked at him confused, “just do it.” So I did. I stood on his feet, and he wrapped his arms under mine and across my chest. “Try to keep your legs straight against mine,” he whispered against my ear, “if you need to hook your ankles around mine, do that.” Then we were taking off into the air, flying straight up. It wasn’t the same as flying myself, but it was relaxing nonetheless. We flew straight for the house of wind and hovered there for a moment. I was going to ask why we weren’t moving, but then Azriel walked out onto the balcony and shot toward us.

We spent hours in the sky. We even developed signals so Cassian would fly however I wanted. Glide left or right. Sharp turns. Down, up, backflip, frontflip. I felt like a kid again as I tumbled through the sky with the two most important people in my life.

When finally we were too exhausted to continue, we landed at a restaurant in the city. Azriel went in first, apparently having made reservations. As I followed-Cassian's hand in mine-we were led across the room between tables until we reached a curtained wall in the back. The males both grinned at me as our host pulled back the curtain, revealing a beautiful candle-lit scene. A beautiful private area just for us.

The evening was perfect. We ate dinner and laughed and just enjoyed each other. The room reminded me of our cave: chilly, small, and with colorful pillows and blankets littering the floor. It didn’t take long after finishing our meals for the three of us to end up in the mess of fabric. I have no idea how long we laid there. They just held me whispering beautiful things into my ears and an occasional obscenity from Cassian. They always knew what I needed.

My back was pressed to Cassian as he carefully wrapped his arms around me, avoiding my wings. I’m almost positive he’s asleep, and even in sleep, his grip is like iron. I couldn’t possibly move. Azriel, in front of me, combed the hair out of my face. “You’re gonna be okay, ya know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “I know it doesn’t always feel like it, and you wanna give up sometimes, but you can’t. Please don’t ever leave us. We’re gonna be okay,” a tear slid down his cheek as he whispered these words to me.

“I promise,” I whispered back, pressing my forehead to his, “I promise.”

The next day I was released from the healers’ den, but it didn’t matter; Cassian and Azriel still never left my side. I didn’t mind, though. As soon as we left, they dragged me down endless streets of houses. I had no idea where we were going until I saw the large manor seated beside the Sidra, to our right. It must be the high lord and lady's house. We didn’t turn to it, though. Instead, I was led left, that’s when I noticed the smaller house, seated directly across from the manor. It was smaller, but not small. Beautiful ivy ran across the brick it was built of. It was supposed to look old but was certainly brand new. A short white fence ran along the yard. Cassian opened a little gate motioning for me to continue up the path. Inside, the house was stunning and appeared brand new. A curved staircase wrapped around behind us, and a chandelier hung from the high ceiling.

“What is this,” I asked quietly, not wanting my voice to echo.

“A house,” Cassian answered simply, “how about a tour?”

“Whose house?” I asked.

“Ours, of course,” Azriel replied. “We figured the house of wind was out of the question since you wouldn’t very easily be able to get in and out. And the beds in the River house are just big enough for two Illyrians. Not three.”

“So we bought this place. For the three of us,” Cassian finished, biting his lip nervously.

“You bought me a house,” I asked incredulously.

“Us. We bought us a house,” Cassian replied.

This would take some getting used to. Them doting on me all the time; always near. It wouldn’t be difficult, I imagined.

“You can decorate it however you’d like,” Azriel spoke.

“Even if I want to paint all the walls pink and hang orange curtains from all the windows,” I smirked. He cringed slightly, and Cassian laughed, holding out his hand, offering the tour again.

#cazriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #cazriel imagine #cassian acotar #cassian fic #azriel acotar #azriel fic #cassian x azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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struggling-with-time · 4 years ago

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Could I ask for c!Wilbur being a gn reader's father figure? Can be either a one shot or headcanons, whichever you prefer. ^_^

Paring: c!Wilbur Soot x Gender Neutral!reader

Summary: Your life as raised by Wilbur Soot.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, betrayal, hurt.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: I'm not sorry for this, however, I am sorry for if you wanted something different, then you are welcome to request again and I will write another dadbur fic. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Wilbur Soot

He finds you lurking around the outer skirts of the newly established country of L’Manberg. The country that has yet to declare full independence.

“Hey there, what are you doing around these parts?”

From that day on he took you, the bewildered child from nowhere, under his wing. Letting you into the drug van.

You grow up with Fundy being your older sibling. Wilbur in the first years being there for the two of you.

He teaches you how to play the guitar.

And while you don’t become the best player at it, you can play a couple of camp songs.

Then the independence declaration comes.

And everything changes.

Nice nights with Wilbur, Fundy and Tommy turn into war planning sessions you aren’t allowed into.

You are the youngest citizen of L’Manberg, leading to everyone trying to keep your innocence

Especially Wilbur after he drags Fundy in as a child soldier in his war.

But you are there, right on the battlefield amongst everyone, and you are there afterwards as you help patch up the hurt.

Eret is the one who teaches you how to treat a wound after Wilbur gets an arrow in his shoulder after a tough battle.

Leading to you keeping to Eret whenever Wilbur is planning. And Fundy seems to be running off with Tubbo and Tommy.

On the day of the betrayal, Eret and Wilbur make you stay back in the van, Eret hoping to shield you from what’s gonna go down. And Wilbur hoping to keep you away from the battle on the horizon.

You are there to patch up the wounds from everyone as they respawn.

Wilbur is now more determined to keep you sheltered.

However, this made you more determined to stand on the battlefield fighting for your country.

You are there in the middle of the explosions when they go off. Losing your first life. Fighting for freedom. Fighting for your pseudo father.

Wilbur holds you for hours afterwards.

As you cry into his shoulder.

Wilbur makes you stay back when Tommy is meant to dual Dream, leading to you being the first to see him when he respawns.

Ah, two of the four children traumatised by a war they didn’t ask for.

You are there when the declaration of independence gets signed.

Getting credited as the 2nd little champion.

And everything is good for a while.

Wilbur helps you through your nightmares whenever you wake up thinking there is TNT blowing you up. Or you remember the day everyone respawned. Or remember how hurt and wounded everyone was doing the battles.

You watch as your father drowns himself in government work to not process what happened himself.

You try your best to help him out, but there is only so much you can do.

Then the election gets called, and you are there supporting him, while also helping your big brother Fundy with his campaign.

Wilbur didn’t take lightly to both of his children running a campaign against him. But he lived with it and respected it.

Then Schlatt won.

And you watched as your father and Tommy was chased out of the city.

Fundy holding you back as you break down crying over the sight.

Fundy keeps you from joining Pogtopia, stating it is no place for a child, despite him working as a spy for them and Tommy living there.

So you stay put in the now Manberg.

You are there to pick up the pieces of your older brother falls apart after your father calls him a traitor and states he’s no son of his.

So you venture out through the big forest. Barely stumbling into Pogtopia as nightfall has come.

And you get to see with your own eyes as the man you regards as your father yells at Tommy, Wilbur looks deranged and nothing like the man who raised you.

He never spots you that day, but Tommy does as you head back out again. Through the night filled with horrors beyond your imagination, and you barely make it back to Manberg in one piece.

You aren’t there the day Schlatt gets murdered, having retreated into isolation after having your worldview shattered. A child of war, now a child of trauma.

But you are there, right in the centre cheering on Tubbo as he’s granted the title of L’Manbergs president.

Your own fathers’ actions taking your second life too. You die in the explosion.

From that day on your anxiety worsen, loud noises bringing you to your knees in panic attacks. It had been bad after the war, but now it was unbearably bad.

Fundy started talking with Eret about potential adoption, but he only ends up adopting you, stating Fundy is too old.

And that’s how you deal with your father’s death. Living with the traitor of his country.

And you keep living. Denouncing him as your father, returning to your title of the bewildered child of nowhere.

You keep living in spite. In spite of the man who took two of your lives and made you grow up in a war you never wanted to fight in. And there, while looking over the railing of L’Manberg, is where you spot him.

Ghostbur

You watch as a tinted floating version of your former father wanders around the mostly rebuild crater.

“…Dad?”

“Y/N! My child!”

You can’t believe your own eyes, it’s actually him, it’s actually the man who found you wandering the skirts of the nation you now reside nearby.

And you turn your back to him.

You walk home, to your place in the castle, outside the nation that has caused you so much hurt.

Fundy is the one to make you talk to Ghostbur the second time, telling you about what seems to be going on.

“Would you like some blue Y/n? You’re crying.”

You refuse, wiping your tears away because he doesn’t deserve that from you. He doesn’t deserve the tears he caused himself.

You never call him dad again after the day you spot him. Because your dad died a traitor of the country he made. Leaving you at 14 to deal with the damages he had done.

But now you are 16, with Eret in your back, and your big brother Fundy helping you in any way or form he can. This includes, even more, sheltering, keeping you as far away from the Tubbo administration as he can.

Because you are all children of war, and they never seem to make the right decisions.

His heart breaks every time you remind him that he isn’t your father anymore and that you aren’t his child.

You don’t ever really hang around Ghostbur.

The few times you do, he tells you of stories of you growing up, teaching you guitar, finding you walking around the walls of the country. And he introduces you to your Grandpa Philza. A calm and relatively collected man.

A murder.

Whom took your father away from you all to early.

You like Friend, the blue sheep is a nice distraction to have nearby whenever your deceased father tries to be near you.

You appreciate the effort he makes, wishing he would have made the same efforts when Schlatt helps you within the walls of Manberg.

So when Tommy gets exiled and Ghostbur goes along with him, you aren’t surprised.

It’s always Tommy. And you are alright with that. Both you and Fundy knew from the start, it was always Tommy over the two of you. And you’ve had years to come to terms with that.

You keep yourself neutral in the affairs of the SMP.

Although you do visit Tommy twice, trying to get Fundy with you, but your older brother has a small distaste for the exiled ex-vice president, although he claims to have nothings against the blonde.

You keep out of the city as Tommy gets imprisoned, but you are there to greet him when he gains his freedom. Ghostbur beside you. Offering Tommy blue, and empty promises it of everything being okay now.

So when Tommy tells you he’s gonna smuggle himself into the prison with the help of the ghost, you are there handing him the potions.

When he returns only baring Friend on her leash, you break down. You lost your father once more.

Revivebur

You get an eerily sense of déjà vu over seeing him, standing over the now L’Manberg doomsday crater.

And you speak the word you had sworn to never say to him again.

“Dad?”

And he looks back, taking in the sight of you, Tommy, Tubbo & Ranboo together.

And he smiles.

And you leave.

You don’t end up talking to him again until Tommy seeks you out asking for you to talk to him, and for Fundy to do the same. You don’t know why, but you do it.

So you and Fundy meet him.

“Ah! My children!”

Fundy frowns, and you for the first time stand up to him.

“I am not your child. I am not yours!”

“What?”

“You haven’t been around for a really long time, a lot of things have changed, and so have I.”

You are seething, and for once Fundy doesn’t hold you back, or shelters you. He stands beside you.

“We had to raise ourselves! We had to keep on living after you decided to go blow your precious nation.”

“But you turned out fine! You are all grown up now, and you still have two lives each.”

Fundy pulls you into him, realising Wilbur doesn’t know.

“Y/n is on their last life. You took their second one too. You blew them up yourself. We are done here we are leaving.”

Wilbur calls out to you and Fundy, but neither of you turn around. He might have taken you in, but in the end, the two of you only ever had each other.

Children of war, never get to be children after all.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur soot x reader #dadbur #fundy #fundy x reader #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfic #ghostbur #revivebur #ghostbur headcanon #wilbur headcanon #revivebur x reader #gender neutral!reader #delias own writing

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tricksters-captain · 4 years ago

Text

Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 1

AN: My Marvel obsession has been lying dormant since Endgame finished but Wandavision and Falcon and Winter Soldier have brought it back to life.... This is going to be a series based off the show. Kind of like my ‘Oh Dear’ fic, it’s the series with an added characters and story lines.

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.

In this chapter: You reunite with Sam and Bucky (Based on S1 EP2)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,883

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 2, strong language, violence.

You and Bucky had always been close.

You were close with Steve before Bucky joined the avengers and you fought on Steve’s side during the small civil war between the avengers.

Steve was your best friend and Sam always knew how to make you smile but there was something about Bucky that was different to the rest of the avengers.

You had spent some time in Wakanda with Bucky at Steve’s request and you two had always fought side by side and it crushed Steve when you both taken during the blip and he wasn't.

When you returned, you were thrust back into battle almost immediately. The final fight against Thanos which resulted in you losing Tony and then Steve.

Nothing seemed to matter except the fact you had been gone for 5 whole years. You had missed 5 whole years with your friends and family. They had changed whilst you were gone and you came back the same as you left.

When Steve returned the infinity stones, he hadn’t given you warning that he wasn’t coming back the same age he was going in but he had warned Bucky. They had spoken about it before apparently and after everything, you felt kind of betrayed.

You knew you’d never understand Steve’s choice but it was his choice. You were just upset Bucky didn’t warn you.

You returned to your home town after that day.

You returned to find some people had changed and some hadn’t but you knew you wanted to be around and spend time with them.

After all the years fighting for the avengers and only calling every once in a blue moon. It seemed to finally dawn on you that you should spend time with them whilst you still could.

However, that only lasted around 6 months before you found yourself answering a phone call from Sam.

You were at a birthday party for one of your old school friend’s daughters when you felt your phone go off.

You put down one of the little girls who had be asking you a hundred questions about being apart of the avengers and excused yourself from the party.

“Tell me why I got an awful feeling when I saw your caller ID come up on my phone.” You answered, folding your free hand under your arm as you leant against the wall.

“It’s cause your subconscious is reminding you about that one time you said no when I asked you out on a date and you regret that now.” Sam’s voice instantly made you crack a smile.

“Or maybe it’s because every time I get a call from you it’s to do with the world ending or something worse.” You shot back.

“It’s good to hear your voice too.” Sam chuckled at your comment before he had responded.

“So what’s going on? I haven’t heard much from you in months.” You asked.

“That’s around the time you up and left us for the old way of living.” Sam reminded you that you were the one that decided to go cold agent and return home.

“There isn’t anything wrong with a little quiet.” You told him as you looked back through the window to the children that were the opposite of quiet.

“No there isn't.” Sam agreed, “However, I got a situation here at the moment that I could really use your help with.”

“I guess it’s a bit bigger than the usual military op or you wouldn’t be calling?” You frowned. You were in the loop enough to know Sam had been apart of the airforce these past 6 months and had been taking part in frequent missions but nothing that concerned you.

“I’m sending you over the details now. I’d appreciate it if you could come.” Sam sent you through a file and you pulled your phone away from your ear to open it.

“You don’t need to convince me, Sam. I’ll be there since I know you wouldn’t ask unless it was serious.” You answered honestly.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you soon then.” You could practically hear Sam’s smirk through the phone.

“Depends how quick I can get a bag together and your jet can get me to you.” You told him as you picked up your jacket from the coat rack.

“Well it’s no Red Wing but it’s pretty fast.” Sam stated. “Oh and (Y/n)... You haven’t seen the news in the past hour or so, have you?”

“No? Why?” You frowned at the hesitation in Sam’s voice.

“Just... take a look.” Sam told you before you ended the call.

You opened up the news on your phone and what you saw made your mouth go dry and your stomach drop.

‘JOHN WALKER; NEW CAPTAIN AMERICA’

You felt an anger rise up in you as you watched the wannabe waltz onto screen with Steve’s shield in his paws.

When Sam gave up the shield, you didn’t know how to feel at first but now... now you weren’t surprised Sam didn’t elaborate on what he wanted you to see.

You said your apologies and your goodbyes pretty swiftly and you had already stashed an emergency bag ready to go under your bed so you were soon on your way.

It didn’t take terribly long to get to the air base where Sam was waiting for you.

“Who the hell is this guy and why is he calling himself the new Captain America?”

“Nice to see you too.” Sam wasn’t surprised at the attitude once you stepped off the plane.

“Sam, first you call me up to help deal with this wannabe terrorist group and now I just find out that Steve’s shield, which you gave up, is being held by some wannabe superhero.” You dumped your bag on the floor as you closed the gap between you and Sam.

“Trust me, I’m not happy about it either and I knew nothin about it but we have bigger fish to fry right now so can we cut the dramatic and get to actually saying hello?” Sam stared down at you with his hands on his hips.

You sighed and gave in.

You wrapped your arms around the man and hugged him warmly.

“I’m sorry. I just––”

“–I know.” Sam didn’t need your apology. He understood how you were feeling. You both loved Steve so much.

“Miss (Y/N)(Y/L/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you.” A voice brought your attention away from Sam to a man approaching you both.

“(Y/n), Torres. Torres, (Y/n).” Sam introduced you to the uniformed man and you shook his hand politely.

“Nice to meet you.” You weren’t sure if you had gotten used to the way most civilians looked at you after you became apart of the avengers. When you joined you didn’t realise becoming famous would be apart of the gig.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but Miss (Y/L/N) has to come with me to get logged into the clearance system and sort out a couple things.” Torres pointed over his shoulder as he explained.

“And by that he means sign an autograph for his kid sister.” Sam teased the man.

“What?” Torres’ cheeks tinged pink. “No!”

“It’s alright. Lead the way.” You picked up your bag and sent a quick smile to Sam before turning back to Torres. “Oh and you can call me (Y/n) by the way.”

It didn’t take too long for Torres to fill you in on Sam’s plan for the mission as he logged in a few details so you could have clearance around the airbase.

You did end up signing an autograph after a little tiptoeing around the question and then by the time you walked back out into the open you spotted someone you hadn’t expected to see.

It was Bucky.

“Looking good for a senior citizen.” You spoke up as you approached Sam and Bucky.

Bucky had his back to you but the sound of your voice soon paused his conversation with Sam and he spun around.

“Hey Buck.” You smiled but you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. “Long time no see.”

“(Y/n).” Bucky stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you.

You chuckled at his tight embrace but hugged him back just as tight all the same.

“You, uh, you look good.” Bucky cleared his throat as he pulled away from you.

“If you’ll excuse us, Casanova, we got places to be.” Sam tried to pull you away from Bucky but Bucky only followed.

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky announced.

“No, you’re not!” Sam argued.

You hadn’t missed the men’s bickering...

In spite of Sam’s protest, Bucky ended up on the flight anyway.

“So how’s it been away from the Avengers?” Bucky asked you as you both prepared for the mission.

Sam was up with Torres in the cockpit so you and Bucky were alone for the first time since you saw each other.

“It’s been okay. Spending time at home. Doing non-hero regular folk stuff.” You chuckled weakly as you pulled off your sweater. Bucky’s eyes fell to your chest as you had only wore a vest underneath. You felt your cheeks burn as you pretended not to notice.

“Uh, same.” Bucky cleared his throat before he spoke.. “Been strange without you around.”

“Buck, you know I needed time away from everything. From Sam, from you... After Steve, I...” You let your words drop away.

There was a short silence before Bucky decided to change the subject.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist. Court mandated. She’s got me doing this whole redemption thing. Contacting people in my past. Making things right.”

“And how’s that going for you?” You couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the idea of Bucky forcing himself to face his past at the request of a therapist.

“Well I have three rules I’m meant to stick to and let’s say I’m not exactly following them closely.” Bucky admitted as he folded his hoodie.

“Does your therapist know that?” You cocked an eyebrow at the man with a light amused expression.

“What do you think.” Bucky smirked back at you.

“Be careful. I might tell on you.” You sighed playfully.

“You’re actually on the list.” Bucky suddenly confessed. “I wanted to make things right after...” Bucky paused for a moment. “...After Steve. I should have warned you. Should have told you the truth.”

“Bucky.” You stopped him. “It’s okay. Steve made a choice and he chose to talk to you about it. You’re his best friend and the only other person on the team who could’ve really understood why he did what he did. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’m still sorry.” Bucky looked you in the eyes as he spoke, “You were with him for so long when I wasn’t around. You should’ve got a real warning.”

“Thanks Buck.” You pressed your lips into a brief sad smile before looking down at your boots.

“I’ve really missed you, (Y/n).” Bucky uttered.

“I really missed you too.” You stopped tying your lace to look up at the man.

His short hair had really revealed his face and you couldn’t help but notice every part of it. The lines by his eyes when he smiled, the curve of his lips, the shadow that was just coming on.

You straightened up and stepped towards the man.

“I like the new haircut by the way.” You reached up and let your fingers brush the top of his forehead. “Makes you look almost like a civilian.”

Bucky couldn’t help but feel his body tense under your touch.

“You look tired though.” You let your hand drop down to his cheek. “Not been sleeping well?”

Bucky forced himself to move away from your touch.

“Bad dreams.” Bucky murmured.

“I figured therapy might have been helping you with those.” You frowned, “I remember sharing wake up duty with Steve like it was yesterday.”

“Every time it was your turn you’d make hot coco.” Bucky reminded you. It brought back images of you and Bucky sat in a small kitchen drinking hot chocolate that you had made despite Bucky’s insisting that he didn’t want any.

“Seems like a lifetime ago.” You smiled but the memories only made you feel dismal. It seemed those were simpler times. Steve was still around, at least.

Bucky handed you your jacket in the silence and you took it gratefully.

“I’m not interrupting something, am I?” Sam said rather loudly as he climbed down the ladder.

“No, we were just getting ready which is what you should be doing.” You picked up Sam’s bag and tossed it to him which he caught effortlessly. “I’m going to check a few things with Torres. Try not to kill each other whilst I’m gone.”

Bucky watched you climb the ladder up to the cockpit and Sam watched Bucky.

“I’ll never understand why you won’t just shoot your shot with the girl.” Sam shook his head as he opened his duffle.

“Shoot my what?” Bucky glared over at the man with confusion clear in his eyes.

“Your shot, man. (Y/n) has clearly been in love with you since Steve dragged your ass onto the team. What she sees in you compared to this, I’ll never understand but she clearly sees something.” Sam had gestured to himself when he spoke but Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“Maybe instead of talking about (Y/n), you should actually tell me what the plan is?” Bucky suggested as he zipped up his jacket securely.

“How about you stop avoiding your feelings?” Sam retorted which made Bucky shut up and sit down.

“I’m not avoiding my feelings.” Bucky grumbled as he glared at the man.

“Yeah right.” Sam scoffed, shaking his head as he started to change.

You didn’t return to the boys until you were approaching the drop off.

“(Y/n), you’ll be out first.” Torres explained as you put in your ear piece, trying your hardest to ignore Bucky and Sam starring daggers at each other behind you.

“Great. See you on the ground, fellas.” You jumped from the aircraft just as you heard Bucky ask what the plan was in your earpiece.

You had to jump earlier then the men since you were approaching the building from another angle but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear them bicker still on the aircraft.

When you reached the warehouse, you remained hidden in the trees. You watched several people start to load two trucks with large boxes.

“You’re doing the staring thing again. They’re in there.” You heard Sam’s voice in your earpiece. He must have been talking to Bucky inside the warehouse.

“Where’s the guy?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I think they’re smuggling weapons, though.” Sam responded before you could.

“Well, I think you could be right.” Bucky agreed with a passive aggressive tone. “But there’s only one way to find out. I see a clear path. I say we take it.”

“We’re not assassins.” Sam argued with Bucky.

“I’ll see you inside or not.” Bucky must've walked away from what you could hear.

“Hey, come on, man. I’m just messing with you! Come back.” You could practically see Sam’s smile in your head.

“If you guys are done, I have a visual on the targets. They’re loading up two red trucks.”

“We’re moving up now.” Bucky replied to you.

“Look at you. All stealthy.” Sam was teasing him. “A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.”

“It’s actually White Wolf.” Bucky corrected him and Sam’s reaction almost made you laugh out loud.

You tried to move closer to the trucks to see exactly what was going inside but it was risky with the group constantly checking around them.

“All right, I’m inside. Therefore, way ahead of you. It’s not great, but very doable.” Bucky’s voice came up again. “Hello. How are you?” Bucky sounded irritated. Sam must've snuck up on him.

“Good. What did I miss? Nothing.” Sam whispered back.

“All right, let’s go.” Bucky commanded but Sam stopped him.

“No, wait.”

“I got a vibranium arm. I can take them.” Bucky held up his arm as he fought against Sam’s halt.

“And I can fly. Who gives a shit?” Sam muttered. “Wait. I want to see where they’re going.”

“Guys I may not be in the same location as you but I can hear everything you’re saying so quick the arguing” You whispered lowly as you kept your eyes trained on the trucks.

You tried to zone out the boys bickering as you crept forward. A crashing noise from inside the warehouse made you jump back and hide as the flash smasher members all stopped and looked.

“Be careful.” You hissed at the both of them.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Bucky tried to defend himself but frankly you didn't care. The trucks were staring to close up and their engines switched on.

You watched the people pile into the trucks and you dived over, taking hold of the backdoors and clinging on.

“They have a hostage.” Sam told you as the trucks drove off with you attached.

“Then get moving.” You commanded. You pulled open the door you were hanging to and opened it.

“No sight of a hostage in here.” You informed Sam as you looked around. “Just boxes of vaccines.”

“I found her.” Bucky must've gotten inside the other truck. “Hi. You okay?” Bucky’s voice was then followed by a crashing sound.

However, you had your own problems...

You heard a loud bang behind you and you turned to see two men at the end of the truck. They both had masks on.

“Cute masks.” You taunted them before they charged at you.

You threw three knives at them, two managed to hit one of the men in the thigh and chest but the second man had knocked the third one away.

You went to attack the uninjured one first as he drew closer, you punched him but he was strong. He didn’t even flinch.

You felt a small panic in your chest as you started to fight. He was taking moves that would usually floor someone like he was being attacked by a pillow.

You managed to get him to the ground by wrapping your thighs around his neck and flipping him over you before you threw another knife at the injured soldier. He seemed to retreat, climbing out of the truck and onto the roof.

“Could use some back up, Sam!” You called out as you followed.

You climbed up onto the roof and the first soldier chased after you. The injured one grabbed hold of Bucky along with a third guy and so you were left with the big one.

You heard Redwing shooting at the roof before you saw it but a redheaded female smashed it in half like it was but a plastic toy.

With that, Sam finally swooped in and started throwing punches.

He was thrown to the other roof as you continued to fight your own battle. You were getting tired and his punches seemed to only be getting stronger and more painful each time.

You pulled out another knife but he grabbed your wrist and squeezed. You couldn’t help but cry out at the pressure, you dropped it before he could break your wrist.

Then suddenly a helicopter appeared from what seemed like nowhere. Cap’s shield bounced off one of Sam’s attackers as two new bodies joined the fight.

The distraction allowed you to kick your attacker off the truck and start to help Bucky.

“Sam, John Walker; Captain America.”

“Lemar Hoskins.”

“Looks like you guys could use some help.” Walker and his sidekick introduced themselves.

A surge of rage from the introduction of ‘Captain America’ helped you regain some adrenaline. You turned and started to fight once again.

You let yourself become distracted as Bucky fell from the side of the truck which allowed one of the guys to send you off the truck too.

Sam was quick to fall back with his suit and grab you before you hit the concrete road. However, the impact of him grabbing you did leave you winded.

“Bucky.” You wheezed as the man settled you on the side of the road.

Sam flew up and chased after the trucks.

You took a moment, wincing at your aching body before you rose to your feet and took off in their direction.

You couldn’t catch up to the trucks but it didn’t take long to find Bucky and Sam once you spotted they were both coming out of a field.

“If someone told me I’d be fighting a whole bunch of super soldiers today I would’ve wore my nice pants.” You stated as you approached the two men.

“We knew they were strong but not like this.” Sam defended himself from your anger.

“One of those guys took a knife to the chest and could still walk away.” You threw your arms up as you informed him. This was so much worse than the documents had described.

“It’s going to take a lot more than just a knife to stop these guys.” Bucky’s eyes seemed to carry a storm as he thought.

“How can this be possible? I thought the super soldier serum was gone. What happened in Siberia was supposed to have put an end to it all.” You remembered the failed super soldiers as clear as day.

“We know about as much as you, (Y/n). Unless you tried to, you know, your weird seeing thing?” Sam asked.

“No. It takes it out of me and I can’t do it whilst I’m trying to fight for my life so.” You shook your head as you walked beside the men. Whilst you weren’t as powerful as some of the Avengers, you were a great assassin like Natasha Romanoff. Your talent was your knife throwing but under all the training and all the knowledge, there was a gift. A gift you’d had since birth.

If you touched someone, you could see their entire past, everything they had experienced up until that moment. It really drained you of your energy and over the years you trained yourself so that you could switch it on and off so it didn’t happen every time you touched someone but when you did use it, it usually required a lie down afterwards.

“Sorry about Redwing.” Bucky spoke up after a moment of silence.

“No, you’re not.” Sam rolled his eyes at the fake apology before asking: “What’s going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?”

“It’s computing.” Bucky grumbled.

“You know what? I can actually see it. I can see the gears turning. Oh, they’re malfunctioning, shutting down. Yep, they’re on fire.” Sam couldn’t help but make fun of Bucky which only made you walk ahead of the men. You weren’t in the mood for this.

“We gotta figure out where the serum’s coming from.” You said to stop their silliness.

“Yeah. And how in the hell after 80 years are there eight Super Soldiers runnin’ loose?” Sam agreed with you just as a transport vehicle began to pull up along side him.

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” John Walker’s voice penetrated the space like a foul smelling fart.

He opened the truck’s door to allow you all to hop in but you all ignored him.

“Alright. Let’s keep going.” He told the driver before directing his attention back to you. “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh? And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the Big Three, so…”

"Aliens, androids, or wizards?” Sam spoke up just to prove to Bucky that others knew of the ‘Big Three.’

“Pretty sure.” Walker nodded.

“There’s no such thing as wizards.” Bucky exclaimed which made you cock an eyebrow at the man. You clearly missed a conversation here.

“Then it’s aliens, or androids.” Walker shrugged as if it were obvious.

“––Or Super Soldiers.” Sam added.

“Shit. Super Soldiers, for real?” Walker’s colleague responded with the reaction you just about expected.

“Yeah.” Sam confirmed.

“Wow. All right, well, then we gotta work together.” Walker’s eyebrows rose as he spoke.

“That’s not happening.” Bucky declared.

“I think we stand a much better chance if we all just––”

“––Just ’cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.” Bucky cut Walker short and you were grateful for it. The man was making your head ache.

“Look, I’ve done the work, okay?” Walker sighed.

“You ever jump on top of a grenade?” Bucky shot back but he wasn't met with the answer he wanted.

“Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times. It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet. It’s a long story, but, any… Look, it’s 20 miles to the airport. You guys need a ride.” Walker got his driver to stop. “Get in.”

You looked back at Sam and Bucky. You hadn’t said anything yet which Sam thought was a record of yours. You chose to give in and climbed into the truck with Bucky and Sam since your body was already aching from the previous fight.

“Okay, so we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?” Walker asked, his eye on you as you sat in between Bucky and Sam.

“They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the Blip. Maybe they’re just trying to help.” Sam told Walker what he knew.

“They had a funny way of showing it.” Bucky grimaced as a bruise on his face started to form.

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record. No offence.” Walker looked over at Bucky as he hinted at the winter soldier.

“We need to figure out where they’re going.” You wanted to shift the attention away from Bucky.

“She speaks? I have to admit I was starting to wonder.” Walker smiled at you which only made you want to punch him even more than you already did.

“How’d you track ’em here? The Flag Smashers?” Sam could tell you were a second away from decking the new Captain America and hopping ship so carried on the conversation.

“Uh, no, we didn’t track them, we tracked you, uh, through Redwing.” Hoskins notified Sam.

“You hacked my tech?” Sam was beyond irritated at this point.

“Sorry. It’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property. Kind of the government.” Walker laughed as he gestured to himself. “Does he always just stare like that?” He stopped laughing under Bucky’s stare.

“You get used to it.” Sam muttered.

“Okay, look, you know, things have gotten kind of, uh––”

“––Chaotic.”Hoskins helped Walker find the word.

“Yeah.” Walker cleared his throat. “The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post Blip.”

“Reactivating citizenship, social security, healthcare. Basically just managing resources for the refugees who were displaced by the return.” Hoskins tried filling you in as if you hadn't heard about it before. The GRC propaganda was plastered across all the cities in America.

“The Global Repatriation Council does all that. We understand but why exactly are you two here?” You questioned, cocking your head towards Walker.

“Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable.” Hoskins replied first.

“Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren’t usually good for anyone’s cause.” Walker added on.

“Usually said by the people with the resources.” Sam smirked at the men.

“Well, we got a lot of resources. If you guys, if you joined up with us, we could––”

“––No.” Bucky shut Walker down immediately.

“I got mad respect for both of y’all. But you were getting your asses kicked till we showed up.” Hoskins wasn’t helping the situation.

“Who are you?” Bucky asked genuinely.

“Lemar Hoskins.” Hoskins introduced himself once again.

“Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins.” Sam backed Bucky up on that one. A name was nothing in this situation.

“I’m Battlestar. John’s partner.” Hoskins nodded towards Walker and you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your lips when Bucky responded.

“Battlestar? Stop the car!” Bucky called up ahead.

The car slowed as it pulled into a bus stop. Bucky pushed open the door and you followed. You couldn't stand sitting in front of that man in that uniform another second longer.

"Look, I… I get it, okay? I get the attitude, I do. You didn’t think that the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I’m… “ Walker turned back to Sam. “I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m not trying to replace Steve. I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be. That’s it. It’d be a whole lot easier if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.”

Sam scoffed at Walker’s choice of words. Wingmen? He really had the audacity.

“It’s always that last line.” Sam jumped out of the vehicle and followed you and Bucky.

Once back on the aircraft you stripped of your weapons and jacket.

Sam and Bucky did the same.

You sat down on your seat and rested your head back against the wall. You needed an ice bath. Your muscles were screaming at you.

“You alright?” Sam asked Bucky as he sat, his eyes locked on the floor.

You opened your eyes to look over at the men.

“Let’s take the shield, Sam. Let’s take the shield and do this ourselves.” Bucky sounded pretty decided.

“We can’t just run up on the man, beat him up, and take it. Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?” Sam sat up slowly as he furrowed his brow at the idea.

“Maybe.” Bucky grumbled.

“I’ll help you in case you forgot.” Sam proclaimed, “Sharon was branded enemy of the state, and Steve and I were on the run for two years. I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna live the rest of my life la vida loca. We just got our ass handed to us by Super Soldiers, and we got nothing.”

Even though you did spend some time in Wakanda under protection from their government, there was a period where you were on the run with Steve and Sam and it wasn’t fun. Being pardoned after the fight against Thanos was one of the best things that happened to you; it’s what allowed you to go home.

“Not entirely true.” Bucky pushed himself onto his feet. “There is someone that you should meet.”

Bucky’s eyes met yours and you knew who he was talking about.

You had seen Bucky's past. Everyone of Bucky’s memories. You had seen all the death and the pain and the fighting. You had seen the Winter Soldier and pre-world war Bucky and you had suffered for it for some time. Nightmares used to plague you but you had managed to block most stuff from your mind over the years. Especially the Winter Soldier memories because that wasn’t really Bucky; that was a weapon made by Hydra.

You had been forced by the team to check his memories to see if he really had bombed the UN but you couldn't choose how far you looked back, you gift made you see everything from the earliest childhood memory up to that moment.

You stood and approached Bucky.

“Are you sure about this?” You whispered, taking hold of Bucky’s forearm as you pulled him to one side.

“He should know.” Bucky’s eyes seemed so sure. You dropped your hand down from his arm to his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Alright then.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as you accepted his choice.

Soon enough the route was changed and the plane turned.

“Will you come?” Bucky asked as the door to the plane opened.

“I’ll wait here but call me if you need me.” You didn’t feel like seeing Isaiah. Some of the time if something from Bucky’s past showed up it could trigger his memories in your own head which you didn’t particularly enjoy.

“Alright.” Bucky sighed but left without you.

Only a short while later you had received a phone call from Sam.

“Hello?” You answered.

“It’s Bucky. He’s been arrested. There was a warrant out for his arrest.” Sam informed you.

“Why?” You were confused. Bucky had been pardoned like the rest of you for his crimes and his warrant wiped.

“He missed his therapy session or something. I’m heading back to your, we gotta go get him out.” Sam hung up pretty quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about the super solider?” Sam asked you as you made your way to the station.

“I only knew because I’ve been inside Bucky’s head but if I listed off every single person Bucky has fought or killed or wronged it would take me a while.” You hated admitting that but the Winter Soldier had done a lot of damage.

“But this was a black super soldier who rotted behind bars for years! Being experimented on like a lab rat whilst Steve sat in the ice and Bucky ran around playing secret assassin!” Sam was angry and you understood why.

“I didn’t know he was in prison. I only knew of him as the guy Bucky fought in Goyang and lost. I figured if Bucky wanted him found then he would say. It’s not my place, they’re not my memories.” You tried to defend yourself but you knew Sam would never understand your logic.

“How can I trust you if you’re sitting on information like that?” Sam catechised you.

“Because you’ve trusted me for years. I say what needs to be said and if it isn't useful to us at the time then I don’t bring it up. I have so much inside of here from people that aren’t even around more. When I go inside someone’s head the memories don’t just go away. Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s memories I’m thinking of when I look back on things. I block what I can and deal with what I can’t.” You stopped Sam in the hallway as you snapped. You couldn’t believe he was questioning whether he could trust you or not after everything.

“I know it can be hard for you. I can’t imagine what its like but there are some things more important than others and Isaiah. Isaiah is one of them.” Sam’s words just made you turn and head to the desk.

You tried to get as much information about Bucky but all they instructed you to do was sit and wait.

“Sam?” A woman approached you and Sam. You lifted your head up at the sound of her voice. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Raynor. I’m James’s therapist.”

You shook hands with the woman and introduced yourself.

“I’ve heard some about you too.” Dr. Raynor smiled as she greeted you.

“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam thanked her as he shook her hand but she only furrowed her brow.

“That was not me.” She told you both.

“Christina!” You didn’t need super hearing to recognise that voice. “Good to see you again!” Walker was signing autographs as he entered the station.

“You gotta be kidding me. You know him?” Sam only said what you were thinking.

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.” Dr Raynor looked between Sam and Walker.

“I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in.” Walker approached her which made you stepped back. “Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?” Dr Raynor protested.

“Um…” Walker pointed to himself. You felt a fire flare inside of you. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up. Just do whatever you got to do with him, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I.”

Walker then pointed to you and Sam.

“You too, Wilson. (Y/l/n). I’ll be outside.” Walker backed away, sending a wink in your direction.

You felt Sam take hold of your wrist quickly before you could even take the chance to lunge forward.

“Breathe.” Sam told you. “We’ll deal with that asshole later.”

Bucky was allowed through and Dr Raynor approached him immediately.

“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam.” She insisted as she headed back towards the cells from which Bucky had just come from.

“That’s okay. I’ll be out here with (Y/n).” Sam brushed off the offer except it wasn’t an offer.

“That wasn’t a request.” Dr Rayor warned him.

You pushed the man forward.

“Quicker you’re in, quicker you’re out.” You told him.

“Why doesn’t she want you?” Sam pouted.

“Get moving before I get bored and decide to use John Walker out there as my new punching bag. Get myself in trouble.” You tried to make the man laugh but failed. He only groaned and dragged himself inside.

It didn’t take long for Sam to storm out of there who was swiftly followed by Bucky.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked Sam as he returned to you.

“Peachy.” He sneered.

You sighed and followed both men outside.

“Well, I feel better.” Sam announced once you were all finally outside.

“I feel awful.” Bucky muttered which made you want to take his hand but you refrained as a siren drew your attention over to Walker and his buddy.

“Gentlemen. Lady. Good to see you again.” Walker had a smile on that you wanted to wipe clean off. “ Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

“Well do you have anything that’s actually useful?” You folded your arms across your chest as you closed in on the men.

"Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.” Walker started.

“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.” Hoskins continued.

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.” Walker finished.

“Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip. So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.” Bucky’s glowered at the man as he leant on the cop car.

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” Walker smirked as he snapped back.

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?” Bucky rose his voice.

“No, we don’t know, Bucky. It’s only a matter of time before we find out.” Walker rose his voice also.

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?” Bucky was being cocky. You had to stop yourself from finding it amusing.

“Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.” Sam interrupted and seemed to clear the air a little. You took his last words as a chance to leave but Walker wasn’t done.

“A word of advice, then.” Walker stopped you all. “Stay the hell out of my way.”

You watched the two men walk away. Your jaw clenching together to stop you from saying something you’d regret.

“Come on.” Sam urged you on and you forced yourself to walk away.

Once you were far enough from the station Sam asked you both what you were thinking.

“Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’...” Bucky was the one of out you both to speak first.

“Oh, don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant.” Sam began.

“No, he meant HYDRA. HYDRA used to be my people.” Bucky corrected him.

“Not a chance.” You shook your head, putting your foot down.

“Walker doesn’t have any leads.” Bucky claimed.

“Bucky, I know where you’re going with this and I’m saying no.” You couldn’t believe he was even suggesting it.

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets.” Bucky tried to reason with you.

“Don’t you remember Siberia?” Sam also knew exactly what Bucky meant.

Bucky nodded.

“So you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?” Sam stared at Bucky with a mixture of shock and concern.

“Yes.” Bucky was hesitant to answer which only made you hate this idea even more.

“Okay, then.” Sam sighed. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

“No! No, we aren’t not going to see Zemo!” You demanded causing both the boys to stop.

“(Y/n), it’s different now.” Bucky declared.

“It’s the only lead we got.” Sam was actually on Bucky’s side.

“What? And you think he’s just gonna help us like that?” You scoffed out of disbelief.

“We have to try.” Bucky started to walk again.

“I trust this guy about as far as I can throw him, Buck!” You exasperated.

“That’s more than me.” Sam murmured but you chose to ignore it.

“(Y/n). We’re going.” Bucky wasn't arguing anymore. It was going to happen.

(PART 2 HERE)

Bucky Barnes Tags

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16 @shannon-posts @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier imagines #sam Wilson imagines #Sam Wilson #falcon #the winter soldier #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan imagines #Sebastian Stan x reader

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notstilinski · 3 years ago

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Midnight Mass Starters !

Taken from the 2021 Netflix series, Midnight Mass! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! Keep in mind that some spoilers for the show will be present!

“Are they okay? They’re gonna be okay?”

“While you’re at it, ask him why He always takes the kids, while the drunk fucks always walk away with scratches.”

“Oh, their lips to God’s ears. No. They’re lips to my ass.”

“I’m good. I’d actually prefer not to smell like cat shit.”

“You know, sometimes there’s a storm, and it floods, and those bodies just pop up right out of the ground. Cat food.”

“I’m surprised that you’re surprised. I figured this is where you wanted to be. You were trying to break in, after all.”

“This isn’t a community anymore, honey. It’s a ghost.”

“Come on, no one can fool the altar boys.”

“No, uh, I think that you’re the prodigal one. I’m just the black sheep.”

“Look at us, back where we started. The one place that we swore we’d never end up.”

“So, I mean, you came back… Here. You came back here on purpose. Why?”

“Ride out the storm tonight, and then tomorrow, you’ll see what tomorrow is all about. Find another project.”

“Well, that’s the thing about where we’ve been. It’s important, sure. But it’s not as important as where we’re going.”

“Every place before where I am now, well, they were just leading me here even if I didn’t know it at the time. Even if I didn’t see it.”

“Are you really walking by without saying hi?”

“This darkness. This blackness that spilled into us.”

“Even out of the blackness, love will rise again.”

“I don’t want to hold up the town’s pariah.”

“Shit I did, I don’t care about me so much either. But what did he ever do? What did he ever do to you?”

“My friend here is just leaving, and they mean no harm. Not they’re fault that they were born woefully fucking unfunny.”

“You ever hear of RR? AA for pirates.”

“See, I’m a pretty rational person, and you know that all our myths, our religions, come from natural occurrences that we can’t explain.”

“No, it’s more than that. You take care of people.”

“You stole from me things I didn’t even have yet. You reached through time, (Name)! You reached through time and stole!”

“If I can forgive you, (Name), then anyone can.”

“It’s like this particular brand of self-righteousness that is exclusive to a certain breed of religion.”

“But just now… It’s like I woke up, and there you are.”

“Told you they’d catch on. We’re a trio now.”

“But then being in there with you, and (Name), and talking like that, talking under those circumstances where I feel like... maybe my life might be worth it.”

“It felt too easy to leave. Like, I shouldn’t just leave.”

“I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“I knew all the while that I’d have to lie to the very people that I’m here to save.”

“All three of us, we, um, we were a little scared shitless.”

“I already had resentment in my heart, and I shouldn’t have.”

“But children just don’t do what you did on their own, not unless one of their parents has failed them something awful. And you’re mother’s a saint, so I guess that just leaves me.”

“It’s a special kind of self-pity to identify with the destruction of Jerusalem.”

“Everyone gets their wings clipped at some point.”

“I think we all want, so badly, for there to be a reason. For everything. And some justice, and some comfort when we die.”

“That’s what we mean when we say heaven. No mansions, no rivers of diamonds or fluffy clouds and angel wings. You are loved. And you aren’t alone.”

“Give yourself over, while you understand it or not.”

“Well, at least they didn’t call them Bong.”

“When something like this happens, we are all supposed to be the same.”

“He seemed fine. But that’s what they say. People who aren’t okay.”

“Just wondering who the hell lit those campfires in the sky.”

“You were aware of yourself, but you acted involuntarily.”

“I worry. I worry about that one. They’re hardly the reliable sort.”

“You brought me out here, where there is nowhere for me to go, to do what exactly?”

“See, I can’t believe you’d want to scare me. I don’t believe that.”

“I’m not as strong as you. I never was.”

“I’ll show them, they don’t have to be afraid of us. I’ll show them who we are.”

“What I know is that (Name) sacrificed everything. Everything. Because they thought I could help.”

“It never made sense to me. We say there’s a heaven and that it’s waiting for us. Then we claw, fight and beg for a few more minutes at the end.”

“We made our choices. We lived our lives.”

“Is that what I’ll become? Just an animal who can’t resist?”

“I suppose virtue isn’t a virtue if it doesn’t cost you anything.”

“I am so proud of you, and I just wish that we had gotten to know each other.”

“I don’t know, but I think that I killed my mom.”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #starter sentences #ask meme #ask prompts #inbox memes #inbox prompts #television sentence starters #i know that there are some Spicy ones i missed but still #midnight mass spoilers #mm spoilers

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mochegato · 4 years ago

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The Night of the Consequences

Continuation of Well, Well, Well, If It Isn’t the Consequences of My Actions

“Ladybug!”

Ladybug’s eyes widened, recognizing the voice booming through the Watchtower halls without even having to turn around. She eyed Chloe nervously. Why did these things keep happening around the nosy blondes in her life? She turned around with an overly wide smile. “Oh… hi… um… M.… Wing,” she stuttered out.

Son of a bitch! She really should have prepared for this. She knew it was coming. Granted, she didn’t know it was coming today, but it had to be coming soon, they couldn’t afford to let just anyone go around knowing their identities. If the family was really worried, they couldn’t afford to wait to talk to her about… well… her.

Bee side eyed her with an incredulous stare. “What the actual fu…” she started quietly.

“Is there something we can help you with?” Ladybug asked loudly, cutting off whatever rant Chloe was going to go on.

“Um well, first off,” he gave her an overly wide, supposedly charming grin, “you can call me Nightwing. M. Wing is my… father.” He cringed as he the last word came out.

Bee raised an eyebrow. “I thought your father was M. Bat.”

Nightwing puckered his lips. “Yeah… that’s… true.” He shuffled awkwardly.

“If you’re going to use that line, you’re supposed to say we can call you Night, which I’m not going to do, by the way,” Bee said flippantly and starting to study where her nails would be if she didn’t have gloves on. “Otherwise it really doesn’t work.”

“Bee!” Ladybug lightly chastised. She turned to Night… Wing… Nightwing! She wasn’t calling him Night either. “Sorry about her. I’d say she’s just tired, but that would be a lie.” She ignored Bee’s scoff and continued. “You said ‘first’, so I assume there’s a second?” she prompted.

“Right, right,” he nodded, finally seeming to settle a bit, his face becoming a bit more determined and the ‘charming’ smile returning. “I wanted to ask you about someone. She gave your name as a reference and I just wanted to see if it was someone we could trust.”

Bee leaned over to Ladybug’s ear. “Why does he keep smiling like that?” she asked in a normal volume. She shivered dramatically. “Creepy.”

Ladybug pursed her lips to stop the noise that wanted to escape, some kind of a combination of frustrated whimper and raucous laugh. “Okay,” Ladybug smiled tightly, focusing entirely on Nightwing. “Who was it?”

“Yeah, a name would be useful here, Smile Boy” Bee added in. “Or we could just give our opinion on everyone we know, along with a fashion critique. We can start with your costume history.”

“Bee, didn’t you have something else to do? Right now?” Ladybug’s voice was sharper than an obsidian edge. This was her boyfriend’s… future boyfriend’s?... love interest’s? Yes, love interest’s brother. She did not need to piss him off while he was asking her as a ‘reliable source’ about her.

“Nope,” Bee smirked back.

Ladybug groaned and turned to Nightwing. She nodded off to the side. “Should we…”

Nightwing nodded and followed her over. “Ugh, whatever. I didn’t want to hear anyway,” Bee grumbled and walked to get coffee.

“So, the woman I’m asking about is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You may have come across her in Paris?” Nightwing prompted.

Ladybug nodded. “I have yeah. She’s actually…” She bit her lip. She really should have planned this better. How much should she tell him? Clearly she wasn’t going to say it was her, but maybe she could say she was a part time hero? Or maybe she could just say they trusted her. The point was whether she could be trusted with their identities so maybe exposing her identity, one of them anyway, wasn’t the best idea. Maybe just that she knew their identities and had never told anyone? That should work, right? She just had to…

“It’s just,” Nightwing spoke up misinterpreting her silence, “my brother has kind of fallen for her.” He watched her face carefully when he said it to see if there was any indication of what she thought of the idea.

Ladybug’s eyes bugged out. That was not the approach she had been expecting. She thought he’d focus more on the identity aspect more than the personal aspect. Not to mention ‘fallen’? That was… they’d only just met. She knew he liked her but fallen was pretty strong. Did Jason really feel that way toward her or was Dick… Nightwing just exaggerating? And she didn’t even think Jason had told him they were seeing each other, let alone how he felt about her! She looked up and met his expectant eyes. Oh right, he was waiting on her to respond. But how did she respond to that? “Oh?” Very eloquent. Her eloquence was clearly not improving around the bats.

His face scrunched as he studied her reaction. It was definitely odd. “Yeah. It’s kind of bizarre really. Not to say anything bad about Marinette,” he rushed to assure her. “I don’t know her well enough to judge her, obviously. That’s why I’m here asking you about her. But he’s really taken with her really quickly. I’ve never seen him like this.” He suddenly stopped and his eyes blew wide. “Oh God! Don’t tell her that. Jason’ll kill me if he finds out.”

“Oh… um…” she looked away suddenly trying to hide her sudden blush and searched for a way to answer.

“Oh my god, y… Dupain-Cheng bagged another hero?” Bee exclaimed slapping Ladybug on the shoulder with her elbow and handing her one of the cups in her hands.

“Bee!” Ladybug exclaimed. “I thought you didn’t care! What are you doing here?”

“This is the thanks I get after bringing you tea?” she scoffed in pretend offence.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and let out a long suffering sigh. “This is just water.” She brought the cup to her lips. “Not even hot water! You brought me a cup of tepid water.”

“Oh my God, can’t you just be grateful I thought about bringing you tea?” Bee exclaimed, exasperation clear in her tone.

Ladybug gave her a deadpan expression. “Did you though?”

“No, not really,” she shrugged. “Let’s get back to Dupain-Cheng somehow managing to entice yet another hero though,” she continued, malicious glee sparkling in her eyes.

Ladybug’s mouth dropped in offense. “She does not date a lot of heroes,” she rushed to assure Nightwing. “Only the one, really…” She paused and looked at who she was talking to and her eyes widened in realization. “… not that there’s anything wrong with dating a lot of superheroes… if that’s… um… what you want to do,” she finished weakly.

Bee snickered at the flustered cover-up. “Yeah, she’s not like some heroes that date everyone they shake hands with.”

Nightwing gave an offended scoff. “I have not dated that many people… or heroes.”

Bee scoffed. “Maybe not that are officially sanctioned by the JL.”

“We didn’t say that you did,” Ladybug promised, “did we Bee?” she hissed at Bee through gritted teeth. “And even if you had, there’s nothing wrong with that. Right, Bee? Because there’s nothing wrong with dating around. Is there?”

“No,” Bee groused. She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted for a moment before the pout became a vicious grin. “Yeah, sure, we can stop talking about his dating history. So, anyway, back to Dupain-Cheng…”

“Oh fu… I can’t believe I walked right into that,” Ladybug grumbled into her hands.

“It may be just the one she actually dated. The rest just have wet dreams about her.” She smirked at her.

“Bee!” Ladybug exclaimed her cheeks rapidly turning a dark scarlet.

“Relax, I know you and Dupain-Cheng have a… unique relationship, but that doesn’t change facts. And pretending like she isn’t getting lusty looks from other people doesn’t change it either.” Bee rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee. The cup wasn’t nearly big enough to hide her widening smirk. “You’re just going to have to suck it up.”

Nightwing perked up at that comment. Well, that was an interesting tidbit. “So you must know Marinette very well considering you know her dating history so well.”

Ladybug nodded while still glaring at Bee. “Yes. You could say that. We know each other rather well.”

“Extremely well,” Bee agreed, her grin getting even sharper. “I’ve known her since we were children but Ladybug still knows her much more intimately than I do. Why don’t you tell him about her?”

“And I would trust her,” Ladybug continued over Bee. “I have trusted her with a lot, both in and out of the suit.”

Bee cackled at the answer “Yeah LB do tell. Go on about her amazing attributes. Tell us all about her.”

“Bee,” Ladybug whined, her cheeks heating up. Nightwing observed the interaction with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on, he’s going to think you don’t like Dupain-Cheng,” Bee teased.

“What! No!” Ladybug straightened quickly, her eyes going wide. “I do! I like Dup… Marinette,” she glared quickly at Bee before she whipped back to face Nightwing with wide eyes. “She’s great! She’s ama… She’s…” she faltered. This was so awkward. If she and Jason ended up getting serious, Nightwing was eventually going to know who she was and remember what she said here and if she overplayed it, he’d think she was pompous and hate her. Then his whole family would hate her and Jason would break up with her because his family would convince him she was a terrible influence.

But! But if she wasn’t complimentary enough he’d think she didn’t like… herself and that she wasn’t trustworthy. Then he would convince Jason that it was a mistake to be with her and he’d break up with her because he’d trust his family’s word over hers and think she wasn’t a good person and deserved to be miserable. She looked back up at Nightwing with a sigh. “She’s a good person. She deserves to be happy.”

Nightwing stared into her eyes for a few moments as if trying to read a part of her soul. Finally, his eyes softened to a more sympathetic glint. “I was worried about her knowing our identities but I’m mostly worried about him. He’s been through a lot and he can be pretty hot and cold because of it and I just…”

Ladybug’s eyes softened too. She looked down for a moment trying to figure out how to word her response. “She’s… Marinette’s pretty understanding. She’s had to deal with that before and it didn’t work then but… I don’t think that was on her…” She pursed her lips and looked down while the memories washed over her. When she looked back up there was a bittersweet look in her eyes. “She fights for the people she loves. She puts effort in. If you’re asking if I would trust her with an identity, I have before and she’s never let me down. If you’re asking me if I would trust her with your brother’s heart, I would. Whether it works out with him or not, she’ll still be there for him. She’ll do everything in her power to protect it. If you trust me, you can trust her.”

Nightwing reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you. This has been very helpful. I’m sorry if I brought up any bad memories.”

Ladybug shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I hope I made you feel less worried about her.”

Nightwing nodded. “You did. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome,” Bee interjected loudly. “Even though you didn’t ask me my opinion.”

“Sorry. I hadn’t been given your name as a reference,” Nightwing said with only the tiniest touch of condescension.

“I grew up with her,” Bee scoffed. “And even though you didn’t ask, I’ll tell you my opinion anyway.”

“Bee…” Ladybug started, but her voice was tired.

“I don’t know who your brother is, but whoever he is…” Ladybug sighed deeply and dropped her head. “…he isn’t good enough for her.” Ladybug’s head snapped up and her jaw dropped.

“Are you… are you admitting you like m… Marinette?” Ladybug gaped.

“Relax, I’m not like hitting on her or anything. I’m just... Shut up.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away with a pout. After a few seconds she looked back at Ladybug from the corner of her eye and rolled her eyes. “Close your mouth, LB. There probably aren’t flies here to fly in, but Beast Boy could always be transformed as a fly for whatever ridiculous reason and if you swallow him we can’t go on our date.”

“You’re dating Beast Boy? When did that happen?” Ladybug exclaimed.

Bee grabbed Ladybug’s arm and tugged her back in the direction they had been heading originally. “I was trying to tell you before we were so rudely interrupted.”

Nightwing watched them walk away with a smile and a small wave. That was a lot to take in, but at least now he knew she was trustworthy.

<><><><><>

Marinette had just gotten home and immediately collapsed into her bed after an extremely long and wearing day when he heard an incessant pounding at the door that wouldn't stop. “What the hell,” she groaned. She pushed herself off the bed with a great deal of effort and shuffled to the front door. “Somebody better be about to die,” she grumbled to herself, “or someone’s going to be.” She looked through the peep hole to see a frantic looking Jason.

She whipped open the door for him. “Jason! Are you okay?” She reached to check him over to assure herself he was okay.

Jason stared at her for just a second. “Dick just… He said… You slept with Ladybug! She’s the one you dated?” he yelled.

Marinette blinked at him a few times trying to take in what he just said. “What!?”

Continued in Truth so Cold

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @ashbrea381writings

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - bee #Truth and Consequences

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moeruhoshi · 4 years ago

Text

I've been watching anime all day so here's a late nalu day gift

Lucy slammed her bedroom door and flopped down on her bed with a weary sigh, weeping into her pillow as her day finally came to an end.

The open door of her patio allowed her to hear the neighing of carriage horses taking away her most recent suitor, a man who barely knew what the meaning of personal space was.

Just how many princes and dukes had to waltz through their gates before the princess’ father realized that they had no interest in adequately courting her? It was painfully obvious how the lot of them were only interested in her well-displayed décolletage over her personality and spent more time schmoozing up to the king instead of trying to win her favor.

What hurt, even more, was knowing that she could never be with the one who was truly meant for her.

She stared at the red string tied to her pinky, the fiber ending far off in the distance where it connected to her destined partner. It calmed her in some ways, allowed her to feel a sense of clarity, knowing there was at least one more person out there who could give her the true love she craved.

She hoped every day, when Spetto called her down to meet another suitor, that it would be him, the one on the other end of her string, waiting to hold her as she wanted to hold him.

They could instead be a peasant, she thought as her hopes for him to visit one day were beginning to fade. Not that she cared about that kind of thing, but it meant that they didn't have the means to enter the castle easily. Or maybe they were somewhere in a neighboring country, too far away to find her. Maybe he hadn't been gifted the power to see the string and didn't know she was waiting for him but felt just as empty without her by his side.

She was sure if she voiced her knowledge of the red string to anyone else, they would call doctors from all over Earthland to analyze her cognitive function.

But she desperately wanted to tell everyone that she had no intention of selecting a suitor through their gaudy traditions. She would instead venture out into the world to find her soulmate, the person at the end of her red string of fate. But knowing her father, he would only let her marry with the promise of the expanded wealth she would gain him from a political marriage.

"Miss? Are you still awake?" Spetto knocked lightly, the princess holding in her sniffles to hear what the maid had to say. "I'm sure you are…but I won't bother you. Your father wants you to know that he'll be inviting the Duke Cream from Veronica for another visit tomorrow. He's eager to correct his…insolent behavior from the last time he saw you."

The princess didn't bother answering and instead let out a frustrated sigh as the sound of her maid's footsteps echoed down the hall. The setting sun illuminated the crimson strand and her fingers loosely wrapped around it, her weak pout quivering as she tugged on the phantom satin.

"I'd rather have you, whoever you are..."

~000~

"The princess!" Spetto screamed as she ran into the King's throne room. Jude was sat upon his seat with the Duke at his side, their conversation halting at her interruption. "She's gone!"

"What in the world do you mean, woman? I'm sure that no good daughter of mine has just buried her nose in one of those god awful fairy tales again. Have the guards search the library for her," He gruffed, rolling his eyes as her demeanor became more hysterical and shaken.

"I have, your highness! The princess has run away, she's truly nowhere to be found!"

"And just when I was about to be introduced to my bride," The Duke frowned and tossed his bleached hair aside. "Send hounds after her, why don't you? I will not let this girl make a fool of me on this glorious day."

"Go on, then," The King glared at his guards standing nearby who quickly rushed out the door. "I should have known that girl would be trouble. Her mother had always filled her head with nothing but pure nonsense."

Lucy lifted her billowy skirt as she ran through the woods, deep within its darkness, trying her best to ignore the now wailing trumpets of distress audible in the distance. She knew it wouldn't have been long until someone noticed her absence, especially after having heard the reality behind Duke Cream’s visit.

It was by chance, an incident that occurred while she was passing her father's office the night before. Lucy heard the plans he made to arrange her marriage to the Duke, ensuring that their kingdom would absorb the principality. This meant her father would have an entire stronghold on the country of Fiore.

A life with that obnoxious and narcissistic Duke was not one she wanted, nor could even stand the thought of.

So, in a panic, she made plans to run away, leaving when the guards wouldn’t be around, going as far as she could go without any clear signs of which direction she'd taken off in. She persevered through her tiredness with the lone thought of her meeting her soulmate who was sure to greet her with a wide smile and open arms.

"This way! C'mon now, you'll never make it running without anywhere in mind!" A voice tinkled through the line of trees, halting the princess in her place as she breathed harshly and darted around scared eyes.

"Who's there! I-I'm not going back to the castle!" Lucy shouted as she turned about in circles, shrieking as a short blonde girl suddenly appearing from thin air

"Did I say I was trying to take you home? No! Now hurry it up! You'll never make it there if you make stops like this, follow me!" She instructed, turning toward the trees and beginning to run.

"Who are you?" Lucy asked between pants as she followed the shorter blonde, mesmerized by the trail of sparkles she left behind her, and the cute wings peeking out from beside her ears.

"A friend," She smiled as she continued maneuvering them through the woods. "And a guide! You’ll never get where you need to go without my help,"

"So you know where I'm going? You can see my string too?"

"Well, sure! I let you see it after all. Boy, was he worried when I told him you were stuck out here without your magic. Idiot almost killed himself trying to find his way through, but it can't be done by anyone but a spirit." She sighed and shook her head, rambling as they avoided a patch of bramble bushes

"My soulmate...? He was looking for me too? Really?" Lucy felt her heart swell, beating stronger even as she ran, a dazzling smile taking its claim of her lips.

"Yup! You have a very loyal man waiting for you," She giggled. "He can't wait to meet you, said he'd get his house ready and everything while I was out looking for you. I apologize for taking so long, moving around in this realm isn't easy, there’s barely any magic in this land!”

"Magic? Like in books? Isn't that practice all made up?" The princess quirked a brow as the strange girl only giggled again and slowed her movements as they found purchase under the wide berth of a willow tree.

"It's quite amazing someone like you was born here when your home is with us, in the right Fiore. Now, come on! Everyone's waiting!" She grinned, ignoring Lucy's confusion as she pulled them through the hanging branches, the two suddenly falling into the void of the trunk.

"E-Eh?! W-Wha…!" Lucy fell to her knees as she suddenly felt queasy, holding a hand to her head and waited for her headache to subside. She looked up to see where the other blonde had gone, not finding her anywhere and instead met a new and sunny skyline. "Wasn't it…night just a moment ago?"

She stood to her shaky feet, finding her body no longer weighed down by exhaustion, tears, or dirt on her dress. Whatever was in the air made her feel light as, well, air. She'd never felt so amazing before! Just where had she gone when they fell through that tree?

Taking some small steps through the field in front of her, she looked down to her finger, the red string extending into the distance behind her.

"Oh wow…" When Lucy turned around, she was met with the image of a town she had never seen before, curiosity pulling her towards the bustling streets.

It was as she always imagined the streets of the village she ruled above looked; stalls serving food and selling fresh produce, children running and laughing, patrons bartering and making light conversation, happiness in everyone's eyes. Their smiles created her own, and she followed the string eagerly, feeling just right in the Fiore she’d been led to.

She worried this would all turn into a dream soon enough, there couldn't possibly be another Fiore…or the existence of magic at that. Her steps quickened as she feared Spetto would be in at any moment to wake her, feet carrying her towards a patch of woods that broke off from the town.

It would’ve made nice for a peaceful walk if she didn’t think the calm scenery before her would disappear.

“Oi, Gray, watch it!” A sharp voice boomed from the nearby distance.

“Shut it! I know what I’m doing, it ain’t hard to paint a wall, flame brain!”

“Don’t start a fight! We had to rebuild that side of the house five times because you two keep knocking it down!”

Lucy slowed down her pace as the volume of their argument increased but kept her eyes on the string that told her he was just ahead.

Her eyes landed on a red-haired girl pointing a large sword at two boys who kneeled respectively in front of her, bowing their heads as she scolded them.

Breaking through the line of trees, Lucy smoothed down her stray hairs and dusted off her dress, holding herself nervously as she continued forward.

Each step closer made her legs feel like jelly, flushed her cheeks, and made her heart beat a million times faster, her fingers twitching as she held her hands together.

“U-Um...excuse me…?” Lucy’s voice was shaky as she approached the three, her eyes watery as she stared at the pink-haired boy who raised his head at the sound of her voice. The string fell into his lap; he was her soulmate.

The red-haired girl turned to face her first, eyes concerned as they fell on her disheveled appearance. “My goodness, are you okay? You’re not lost, are you?”

“N-No...I—“

"Oh, crap! It's you!"

"Don't say that to a girl, idiot! You have no idea who that is!" The raven-haired boy threw a glare at the pink-haired one who quickly stood up.

“Mavis didn’t tell me when you’d get here, I would’ve come to pick you up if I knew you were...oh, hey, don’t cry, okay? Um, here,” He quickly took the end of his scarf to wipe her tears, feeling a knot in his throat as she gently fell against his chest. "It's gonna be okay."

"I just...I just can't believe…" She shook her head, not minding the stain she created on his shirt. "That you're real...that you were waiting for me."

"'Course I was! Having a new family member is always exciting, and my hearts been leapin' like crazy waitin' for you! You were stuck out there all alone and I couldn't come find you. I'm sorry it took so long."

Erza forced herself and Gray to look away as the blonde hastily kissed their wild companion, his shock present in the stiffness of his back.

He was startled by the sudden action but felt himself melting into the touch, desperate as well to be close to his soulmate.

"I'm home," Lucy laughed with a bit of surprise, Natsu's eyes widening along with his grin.

"Yeah! Welcome back!"

#nalu #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu and lucy #natsu x lucy #lucy and natsu #lucy x natsu #nalu day 2021 #nalu day

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series

A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside

The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.

Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.

You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.

A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.

As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.

This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.

The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.

You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.

Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”

You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.

You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.

Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.

A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.

You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”

You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.

Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”

“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.

You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.

Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.

Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.

It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.

When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.

She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.

He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.

Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.

And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?

As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.

His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.

He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.

He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.

The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.

Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.

A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.

Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.

His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.

Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.

The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.

Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.

The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.

Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.

“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.

You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.

When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.

“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”

His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.

The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.

“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.

“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”

“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”

“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”

No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.

You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”

The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?

He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.

Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.

Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”

Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.

Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”

You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.

With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.

This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.

Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.

Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”

“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.

“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.

The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.

You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

Text

Are very, very old friends

My Masterlist

Your heart and my heart (first part of this)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: A second part to Your heart and my heart, where Ivar and Reader were childhood friends (and pretended to get married when they were children) and got separated by circumstances of life, only to meet again on a battlefield in Wessex.

Word Count: 9.8k (I am so fucking sorry, holy shit)

Warnings: My unwavering state of denial over Aslaug’s death, mentions/descriptions of injury/battle, allusions to sex (nothing graphic), and my terrible writing lol

A/N: I hope you are no longer surprised by how I seem to be able to focus only on the stuff I need to focus on the least, bc here we are. Writing has been very difficult lately, so I am not so sure this is any good, but I still hope you enjoy.

As a reminder: In this universe the brothers (minus Björn) are in Wessex with the Great Heathen Army but Aslaug isn’t dead (Lagertha never took over). This is an almost 6a in age Ivar, but of course a different canon where he has stayed raiding in England. And Princess Blaeja (who was briefly mentioned in the previous part) is engaged to be married to Sigurd.

Your eyes cannot move fast enough to take in the field ahead of you, trying to check every trap and every barricade. Even if you were to find a fault, you remind yourself, you wouldn’t be able to change anything.

Hlíf comes to you, brisk pace that you can still see the exhaustion in, and stands at your side, shield with your colors and your symbol. It looks heavy.

“They are coming, Dane.”

“I know,” A deep breath, and you signal with your head to the center of the camp, “Go back, you’ll lead them to hold the second line. The Saxons will breach the first one.”

“You are not staying here.”

You don’t meet Hlíf’s gaze, instead meeting the eye of a few shieldmaidens that stand tall ahead, waiting for the Saxons to come. They nod their heads once, they know what they are agreeing to.

“We are.”

The forward scouts sound the horns, and before long the marching feet of warriors makes the unfamiliar ground tremble under your feet. Your hands tighten on the handle of your sword, and you take a breath.

Hlíf steps closer, but her gait ins anxious, “You better retreat to us when the time comes, Dane. You are not allowed to die here.”

“Says who?”

Hlíf grunts a curse, but retreats behind the second line of spike barriers.

You’ve been hounded by this group for weeks, ever since you and your warriors departed for York back from a successful raid. You aren’t sure if they are from that city or sent to intercept you from somewhere else, but they are bloodthirsty and determined.

Making camp was a necessity, especially with the wounded and weakened you have in your group, but the years have made you ingenuous, and the months you’ve spent with the Great Army have taught you to use the surroundings in your favor.

Your warriors dug ditches and laid spikes within them, much like you remember hearing Lagertha did when she assisted Aslaug in defending Kattegat, and while you didn’t have the defenses of walls, you made sure to draw passageways with the placement of the tents, to lure the Saxons to follow a path you know by heart when they came.

And now you stand, restless in your spot, waiting for them to get close enough for your archers to thin their numbers, for the frakka’s of those closer to you to take down the stronger ones.

It is not enough, but you never expected it to be.

Once they get close enough, you shout the command to march, and your forces and theirs clash.

The sound of battle deafens you, shouts in two different tongues and death in the same language echoing around you. Still, you seem to hear the faintest of rustles, and you lift your shield as you turn, stopping the downward strike of a Saxon.

Pushing back while you bend your knees, you unbalance him, slashing at his thighs before you plunge your sword in his chest. He meets your eyes, and spits blood in your face before his strength leaves him.

So, it is personal then.

You keep moving, blunt hits of your shield and quick strikes of your sword, taking down as many as you can, worrying more for injuring them and weakening them before they reach the more vulnerable in the camp more than for killing them.

Maybe that is your mistake.

The sword slashes at your leg, the pain sharp and weakening, and your stance buckles. You turn around with a raised shield to try and defend yourself, but you are too close to the ground and the warrior puts all his strength behind his kick and forces you to the ground.

Scrambling to turn on your back and grabbing a discarded axe, you stop the advance of his sword, but your arms burn under the strain, and his snarling face reminds you of a chained dog too close to breaking free.

It isn’t enough. You have no choice.

Releasing the strain of holding him back, you are able to swing your arm back and hit the side of his neck with the hand axe, but not before his sword pierces your shoulder, drawing a scream of pain from you.

Pushing him off you, you stand on uneven ground, trying to make sense of the battle around you and keeping your defenses against the Saxons that are still very much after your blood.

Your shield once again on your hand, you stop the attack of a younger warrior, slashing his chest with a move of your arm that feels weaker and trembling even as you manage to deliver a fatal blow.

Another manages to get close enough to bit the edge of his shield against your wounded leg, and his sword slashes at your side, drawing blood and blinding pain in its wake. He is taken down by a snarling shieldmaiden that comes to stand at your side, and your eyes scan the first line of the camp’s defenses already breached.

You are outnumbered, you are not going to win. Not like this.

“Through the east!” You call out in your own tongue, not waiting for any of the few that remain able to fight to acknowledge your command before you dart for the passageways you can make use of.

You are close enough to the second line of barricades to cross it if you wish to, but your mind is made. The Saxons trailing after you and the few others that still stand, they make quick work of your shieldmaidens soon enough, and you grit your teeth at the screams of pain you can do nothing to stop.

Most of them were foolish enough to think you were retreating, and they trailed after you and the remaining warriors.

Reaching the end of the alleyway, you turn around, standing on shaky legs and lifting one hand. Breathing past the pain is proving difficult, and there’s black at the edges of your vision, but you can still make out the shapes above you, and those that stand next to you.

You close your hand into a fist, meet the eyes of the Saxons that seem to hesitate to approach. They will always fear a heathen woman that smiles while surrounded by blood and death, the fearful -faithful- will call her a monster and insist she is not human.

They fear, they hesitate. And that is enough.

And you drop your hand, the weakest of smiles on your lips as you give one last command,

“Loose.”

____

The first thing you can sense when you awaken is the pain, and the weight keeping you down. Awful, but at least you aren’t dead.

You open your eyes slowly, half expecting to see the murky forests of the Isles towering above you after having been left behind by the Saxons to bleed out slowly and painfully; half expecting something with women on winged horses and a lot of golden shades.

But all that greets you is wood.

Inconsequential, unimpressive, mediocre wood. Yet, your body is filled with such a relief you almost give in to the temptation to doze off again.

Still, you force your body to answer and you sit up on the cot, breaths ragged as the wound on your shoulder sends pain like lightning through your very veins. And slowly, painfully, and with more curses than your mother would like out of a princess, you stand up.

Just when you are considering what the plan after standing up actually was, a woman barges into the room.

“Oh, you’re standing,” She says, and you lift your eyebrows but say nothing. She tsks her tongue, and approaches, her eyes focused on your upper chest, “You shouldn’t be.”

“I would think it was a good sign.”

“Which is why you do the fighting, not the thinking,” She quips, a quirk of her mouth as she glances at you. Quite mean, for an old woman, but still you offer a smile as well. Her palm presses lightly against your shoulder, before going to your side. “You’re not too hot.”

You pout, “Aw, shame.”

“And you seem to be in good spirits.” She chuckles.

You meet her eyes and lean closer, asking quietly,

“That will change soon, though, won’t it?”

“You are the reason a lot of people are angry, yes,” She confesses, before stepping back, “You also are the reason a lot of people are alive as well. Make sure they remember that, and you may keep your head.”

With a non-committal gesture you step past her, a hand on the doorway keeping you upright as you meet the gaze of the expecting shieldmaidens. They call your name and a few expletives in greeting, some in anger, some in welcome, but all in relief.

“While I love seeing you all alive and well, I…have a feeling at least one of you is here under specific instructions.” You state, a quirk of your eyebrow when one of the younger ones stands up, and slips out of the house quietly, with a murmur of being glad you are alright.

You sigh, and though one of them offers you a seat you highly doubt you’ll be able to stand if you sit down, so you wave away her offer, and lean on the doorway.

“Did the rest make it?”

“Most of them, yes. The injured are going to be escorted back, they couldn’t make it on their o-…”

The words die in a gasp as the door to the humble home is kicked open, and a tall shieldmaiden strides in, eyes blazing and set on you.

“You mad Dane bitch!”

“I have a name,” You quip as the shieldmaiden advances towards you. “It is a very pretty one, my mother chose i-…”

She shoves you forcefully, stopping whatever it is you were going to say.

You stumble back but catch yourself before falling, and you can’t help but let out a grunt of pain as your side is pulled tight by the sudden and forceful movement. The healer quips from the room at your back something about not injuring the already injured further, but you both ignore her it seems.

Hlíf still pushes on, ��Of all the hare-brained, reckless, st-…”

“Hey!”

“You don’t scare me, Dane,” She huffs back, stepping forward until the shieldmaiden towers over you. “Half dead as you are because of your stupid decisions, you aren’t a threat to anyone, least of all me.”

In the back of your mind, a voice that sounds so alike your brother’s, always calm and collected; begs you not to do this.

You were never good at listening to him, though.

Headbutting one of your oldest friends wasn’t high in the list of things you wanted to do if you ever came back from the dead but…here we are.

Hlíf stumbles back, holding her nose and setting incredulous eyes on you.

Strangely enough, the tension seems to slowly ebb away with the unexpected action.

“I like proving people wrong.” You tell her around a shrug, slowly betraying a smile that she returns, even if there’s a resentful sort of relief in the way she approaches again and presses her brow against yours.

“You are so lucky you’re injured.”

“I wouldn’t call it-…”

“I would. I’d be knocking your pretty ass to the ground if you weren’t,” She promises, and scoffs a laugh that sounds like a reprimand, “You scared me, Dane.”

You meet her eyes, study the dark circles under them, the haggardness on her face, the stubborn tremble in her voice; and realize maybe you weren’t the only one to believe you’d die in that forest.

“How long has it been?”

“A little over a week since we made it to York.” She tells you, motioning for a seat, and motioning again when you refuse it. Stubborn.

You carefully sit down before the fire, narrowing your eyes at the girl that attempts to cover your legs with a fur. You are injured, but you’re far from an old woman.

Though you do accept the awful-smelling brew of herbs the healer presses into your hand before scurrying off back to the room where you were sleeping.

Watching the herbs swirl in the cup, you mumble, “You know, I did the right thing there.”

Hlíf’s kohl-lined eyes narrow, “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

You gesture with the arm of your good side, “I wasn’t the one leading them! For once I followed orders and we got stuck, it isn’t my fault!”

Hlíf’s eyes only grow bigger and bigger in affront and fury at your insistence, and you decide to shut your mouth.

“You defended when you could have retreated, even though you were wounded, and alone.”

“When you put it like that of cou-…”

She interrupts you, her tone cold and imposing as she repeats, “You defended when you could have retreated, even though you were wounded, and alone.”

“I heard you the first time.”

She offers a side smile, head tilted to the side, “Huh, you listen. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“That is uncalled for, come on.”

Hlíf looks at you, blinks slowly two times, and takes a breath.

“You defended when you could ha-…” She starts again, but you interrupt her with a shove of her good shoulder and a huffed laugh. She does have a point, however insistent she is at repeating it.

“I panicked, I…I needed to give you more time to leave safely, without Saxons trailing after you. I needed to stall them.” You confess quietly, fidgeting with your fingers, elbows resting on your knees, ignoring the soreness on your side as your position strains at the healing wound.

“You agreed to retreat if you were outnumbered, but you didn’t.”

“There were still some traps that hadn’t been used, I could lure them to the east side, and it worked, the archers made work of the thick of their numbers.”

“You were half-dead by the time that happened.” She insists, biting.

“All that matters is that most made it out. It was the right call.”

“If I hadn’t insisted we go back to find you, you would be dead,” She argues, though her voice quietens as well. “You’d be alone in that damn place, we wouldn’t even be able to bury you.”

That is not something you want to think much about, and with your gaze on the flickering flames you press quietly, “Do you want me to apologize, is that it?”

“No.”

“What do you want then?”

“I don’t know, Dane. What do you want?” At your confused frown the shieldmaiden shrugs, “Coming back from the dead and all, figured I could grant you at least one thing.”

“Those Saxons that hunted us down strung up on a tree?” You ask, only half-jesting. Hlíf doesn’t laugh though, she only presses her lips together.

“Can’t do that, Dane. They have been handled already.”

You really shouldn’t have expected otherwise. Still, you ask the question to which you already know the answer,

“Ivar?”

“Poured melted crosses onto their heads, left some alive after it too. Gruesome thing,” She explains, and you nod your head with a hum, wondering how long ago that was and trying to imagine how exactly they were captured so quickly. Hlíf watches you with growing worry, “I don’t know if I should be concerned about your reaction, or…lack of it rather.”

“You get used to it after a while.”

She scoffs, shaking her head, “You do.”

After a few breaths of silence, Hlíf calls your name quietly. She usually calls you ‘Dane’, a habit that never left her since the first days you were fighting together, when you first were able to call yourself a shieldmaiden.

When your attention turns to her, she says, “I’m sorry for shoving you.”

You look into her pale eyes, offer a smile and a nod.

“You should be.” You quip, and after an incredulous breath Hlíf heaves a sigh.

“You could say you’re sorry too, Dane.” The shieldmaiden chuckles, still oddly fond in her defeat.

“I’m not, though.” You reply around a shrug, sharing a smile with her.

The conversation ebbs away as you hear a voice distantly shouting commands, a voice you know well.

“Where is she!?”

“Oh, great.”

Furious stabs of a crutch on the hard ground, and the door opens just as many shieldmaidens scurry away, making way for Ivar the Boneless. His eyes meet yours with a fury you have never seen before, a snarl on his lips and tension coiled around his body like a vine.

When he speaks, though, his voice denotes none of that. His voice is carefully even, dangerously still, reminding you of a beast stalling its breath before it strikes.

For a man as explosive as him, calmness is never a good sign.

“What. Were. You. Thinking.”

Your nose furrows, and you offer with a grimace, “I…wasn’t?”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“I know. I’m the one that almost died, remember?” You prompt, but he doesn’t answer. You nod your head, not really sure what to do, muttering to yourself, “Serious business, dying.”

Hlíf lets out a choked groan, before advising, voice low, “You should really just shut your mouth, Dane.”

Ivar turns to her, the sharp focus of his pale gaze making the shieldmaiden straighten in her seat.

“Get out.” He orders, voice low. You see it in her, the pride insisting on resisting and the instinct pleading to obey.

Instinct wins, and after sparing you a look Hlíf stands up, and motions with her head for the other shieldmaidens to follow, leaving you and Ivar alone in the small home.

It feels even smaller as his gaze returns to you, it even feels almost suffocating as Ivar takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders but says nothing.

You clear your throat, and start what you hope will be a conversation and not a screaming match.

“I am not apologizing for the choice I made.”

An angry breath leaves him through his nose, sharply. His eyes remain on you, quiet intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Of course you’re not,” Ivar bites out, before shaking his head at himself, “I can’t believe you’d be so-…”

“It was the right call, Ivar.”

He wrenches his gaze from you, looking straight ahead. For a moment you wonder if he refuses to look at you because he thinks he can hide anything from you. Because he should know better, because he should know by now you are aware of the way his jaw tightens, of the way his breaths are intentionally -forcefully- even, of the way anger and pride are the only thing keeping his control from slipping.

“You could have died.”

“And?”

His focus returns to you, and you snap your mouth shut.

Wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say.

Ivar’s eyes widen in anger, and when he takes a breath he seems to be twice as tall.

“And!?” He repeats, voice thundering, “You almost died! You…” His nose curls in anger, but there’s something more fragile in his wide eyes, something like fear, “You spent days in that damn bed, they told me it was in the hands of the Gods whether you survived or didn’t.”

A pit of worry forms in your stomach, and you quieten your voice, trying to offer reassurance, “I pulled through, I-I am alright.”

But it falls on deaf ears.

“You were there, dying, and there was nothing I could do,” A sharp breath, but it sounds choked, “You would have gone where I can’t follow, I-…there was nothing to do, nothing I could-…I c-couldn’t-…”

“Ivar…”

He turns to you, accusing, “I was unable to do anything while you died, while you left me.”

“I didn’t die, I am alright.”

“You almost did.”

“That’s-…”

His lip curls into a snarl and your eyes are drawn to the scar on the right side of his mouth, the scar you are responsible for. The process of healing from the deep cut you left that first day you were reunited was a slow one for him, especially because of how much you insisted on finding ways to make him smile and then grumble at the sting of a reopened cut. And now your eyes are drawn to that scar, watching it follow the movement of his mouth as it curls in anger.

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” He interrupts you, a gesture of his hand. “You made the wrong choice. You put yourself in danger when you didn’t need to.”

“If I hadn’t, most of my shieldmaidens would be dead now. We couldn’t fight them directly, Ivar, we had too many wounded.”

He walks past you, the stabs of the crutch on the ground still more forceful than they need to be, and pours himself some mead in one of the unused cups, his back to you.

A deep breath, and before he drinks he offers, “You should have left them behind.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You move to walk forward, but putting too much weight on your injured leg makes pain shoot through you. You falter, and you try hiding it but you know Ivar notices, judging by the way his eyes narrow.

Still, you insist, slowly walking closer, “What is a few shieldmaidens against all the people we went there to aid? It is a sacrifice we all were willing t-…”

He gestures with his free arm, stopping you, “Well it isn’t a sacrifice I’m willing to make! Not if it costs me you!”

You are stunned into silence, whatever words that were to leave your mouth dying on your lips with a gasp.

Ivar glares at you as if you were somehow responsible for him saying something he hadn’t meant to, a twitch of anger that makes his furrow his nose and his lips press together in a line.

He moves to one of the chairs by the fire, taking a few breaths through his nose that you are sure are meant to be calming but sound equally as angry as before.

You still have nothing to say, no words to leave your lips.

There’s a part of you that never let go of him in all those years you spent -grew- apart, and in these months you have spent with the army, leading your own forces under Ivar and his brothers’ commands, learning from them -from him- many things and offering a few tricks of your own, conquering new lands and fighting new battles; your foolish heart has started to speak of hopes that could never be, has started to feel light like it never did before, as if it and his own heart recognize each other even after all the years and the scars.

Ivar takes a breath, discarding the crutch on the chair by his side.

“I…I never forgot you, you know. Not when you left Kattegat, not when father died and we came to England, not-…I never forgot you,” His eyes linger on yours for a moment, before Ivar turns his head and looks back ahead, clear tell of gritted teeth as he confesses, “I kept an eye on you, through the years. I had men near Ribe when you and your brother fought for it so that they could tell me the outcome of the battle.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you slowly take a seat by his side.

“I…I never knew.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” He retorts without missing a beat, hesitating before continuing, “I always hoped we’d meet again. With what I’ve done, with what I’ve accomplished, I hoped that maybe I’d find you again and I could give you enough reasons to stay this time.”

Quietly, you offer, “I never wanted to leave.”

“I know that now,” He assures you, the slightest of movements of his head that you think was supposed to be a nod. Ivar’s eyes lift to yours, and he says, so low you almost miss it, “I just found you again, I can’t…I can’t lose you.”

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to put into words what his words are doing to your foolish heart, to the heart that has always been his.

“Ivar…” You start, not certain of what you’re trying to say.

But it doesn’t matter.

Ivar leans forward surprisingly quickly, pressing his lips against yours. The touch of his lips on yours is urgent and hurried, shaky and inexperienced; leaving behind wide blue eyes that look into yours as if desperate for an answer to a question that isn’t a question at all.

You sigh shakily, but your mouth trembles into a smile, and with barely a moment of hesitation, you cross the distance between you again and kiss him, this time deeply, this time eagerly, this time ardently.

There’s the desperation of having lost too much time without this in the way his hold on you is tight and frantic, there’s the anguish of having thought lost you forever in the way your name leaves him in a choked gasp when you part for air, there’s the relief and the elation of finally having you within reach in the way he doesn’t let your lips part from his for any moment, a faint sound of protest from somewhere deep in his chest whenever you pull away.

You finally part but don’t move too far, it seems both of you unwilling to let much space come between you. Breaths labored, you whisper,

“I have wanted to do that for a long time.”

“You have?”

In any other man the question would be a blatant seeking of praise, and maybe it is in him too, but there’s something else too, something more fragile, something more vulnerable. Like some part of him never ceased to be the boy you kissed before you were to leave Kattegat, like some part of him will never truly believe how wanted he can be, how loved.

“I never forgot you either, Ivar,” You confess quietly, lifting the hand you can and tracing the side of his face, the scar on his cheekbone, the scar you claim of your own over his lip. “I could never forget you.”

His smile is awed, and softer than you ever thought it could be, and more boyish than it should be allowed to be for the sake of your foolish heart, that skips a beat in your chest.

With the crackling of fire and the feel of him under your hands, you forget the passing of time, you forget the soreness of your body, you forget everything except him.

You exchange secrets and promises in the shape of kisses that linger always in between adoration and hunger; and after a while, with your fingers trailing absently over the scar on his mouth, you offer your regret.

“I was reckless,” You tell him, resisting the urge to curl the hand on the side of his face into a fist when you notice how much it trembles. “I…I should have retreated. I am sorry.”

“I was…I was stuck here, unable to do anything. I couldn’t go fight with you, I couldn’t go search for you,” There’s the familiar resentment -at the world, at Fate-, and you say nothing, but your hand moves towards the back of his neck and tries to offer a soothing caress. Ivar continues, “I can’t will my stupid legs to work as they should, but I can…I can keep you safe. You have to let me keep you safe.”

“You cannot keep me from death, no one can,” You remind him, before acquiescing, “I promise I…I will be more careful, I will not make pointless sacrifices.”

Even if it wasn’t pointless to you at the time, it is the best way you can word it.

And, judging by the faint and almost shaky nod Ivar offers in acceptance of your words, it was the right thing to say.

____

Ivar had planned to make the journey back to York and raid from there one more time, while matters about his plans to settle in the Isles are solved, and originally you were planning on going with him.

However, he insists you need to rest and heal so he won’t let you fight, and you insist being bedridden will only make you go mad, so you reach a compromise. You and Ivar discuss the details of the agreement as the healer checks the wound on your shoulder, and when he is to leave you notice the way he hesitates before he does, eyes travelling to your lips before meeting yours.

You smile, but then his pale eyes travel to the woman that is cleaning her hands with her back turned to the both of you, and you understand the question.

Being Ivar the Boneless’ woman is not something you would ever feel shame for being, or wish to hide, and though you do have your reservations about what it would mean as a commander of your own share of forces within the Great Army to be so close to one of the sons of Ragnar, you know no fear of rumors is with making Ivar believe you are ashamed of being his.

Instead of voicing your answer to the question he doesn’t ask, you just tilt your chin up, eyes on his.

Ivar’s smile is a tad on the shy side, a tad overwhelmed, but he still dutifully leans down and captures your mouth in his, promising to meet with you again after you’ve spent time with your warriors.

He leaves, and before long, as the healer changes the bandages on your leg and shoulder, you hear the familiar sounds of your friends settling again in the small home. It makes a pang of what you refuse to call regret go through your heart, at the thought of how easily accustomed they are to spending time at this home, waiting to know if you would survive or not.

You take a breath, and walk out to meet them.

Vígdís, one of the elder shieldmaidens, doesn’t even look up from the piece of chicken she is carefully pulling apart with her fingers as she states dryly, “I was betting he would kill you.”

“I’m glad you gals are on my side, really.”

Hlíf swallows a mouthful of chicken and points the drumstick at you, “Hey, I bet you’d kill him.”

You look at her with a frown before conceding, “Actually, that’s flattering.”

She offers a toothy smile, and encourages you, “Yeah, you could take him!”

Vígdís scoffs, “Oh, she wants to,” At your glare the older woman only shrugs one shoulder, “Or the other way around. You don’t have a preference, do you, Dane?”

“Anyhow,” You drawl out, turning to the others, “I suggest you prepare your belongings and say your goodbyes. We won’t raid with Ivar and Hvitserk in these lands, our forces are needed elsewhere. We will be travelling to East Anglia in a fortnight.”

Hlíf scoffs, “One hell of a spat you two had, huh?”

“Wh-…? You know, I really don’t want to hear it. Just…do what you must.”

“I’m just saying, your love life is taking us all over England, Dane.”

“Shut your mouth already.” You grumble, but Hlíf’s brazen laughter resonates in the small home.

____

In the days that go by -way too quickly for your liking- before you are to depart to East Anglia, you find yourself drunk on the foolish happiness of having within reach what you never truly thought you’d have.

It is three nights before you leave that in the quiet of your shared room Ivar presses his lips to yours with a softness that is jarringly unlike him, and breathed over your lips the most hushed I love you.

It was that same night that you tangled your fingers in his hair and drew him back against you, not able or willing to resist the temptation to flick your tongue over the scarred side of his lip to make one of those choked little sounds leave his lips; and when he kissed you back hungrily pulled back to promise the same, just as softly even if you vowed it fiercely, I love you.

And now you are to depart. Standing in the stables and watching as your shieldmaidens and warriors finish loading their belongings and the supplies for the road.

Ivar is next to you, leaning against a wall with an arm secured around your waist and allowing you to rest slightly on his chest.

“Take some of my men with you.” He insists, for what must be the thousandth time since you made the agreement to part until the last month of the spring.

“I don’t need protection,” You remind him, leaning back a bit so you can see his face, “If I remember correctly, and I do, last time it was you who needed help from me.”

“I didn’t need help.”

“Of course not, love.”

Ivar takes a deep breath at your mocking tone, choosing instead to insist, “Just take those men with you.”

“No.” You tell him, one last pat of your hand on his chest before you turn to walk away.

Before you can pull away his free hand grasps yours, and you easily give in to the slight pull, turning back to met him and stepping closer again.

Ivar tilts his head down so he can look you in the eye, something dark and tempting shining through his expression as his mouth curves into a crooked smile.

“I thought wives are supposed to obey their husbands?”

Your heart does a foolish thing in your chest, beating out of rhythm as if trying to leave your chest and burrow into his. Still, you stare him down with your head tilted to the side, and all the answer you offer is a dry reminder,

“‘Countless sons and daughters’, Ivar. If we are holding each other accountable for those promises, we ought to start there.”

He wants to argue, you know he does. And you aren’t entirely convinced some of the warriors that join your forces because they want to aid Ubbe are there at all for him, but you have no evidence, so you shut your mouth and just make sure to keep an eye on them.

As you expected, they act as your bodyguards, no matter how much you try pushing them away.

And so time passes, and in your time on the road towards Soham you are able to heal well enough, slowly getting back to training with Hlíf and Vígdís. And by the time you reach Soham, where Ubbe awaits support to hold on to the city, you are able to fight once again.

And how you dearly missed it.

Time becomes a blur after that. Soham proves to be more difficult to hold than expected, and so your forces remain a while longer before moving to Dunwich where you manage to take over relatively easy, since the Saxon forces retreated from the coastal city.

The years made you capable, and the Gods made you arrogant.

Which is why, as the warriors from Dunwich start retreating, following their Lord’s commands, you, standing still close enough to the edges of the frontlines that Saxons scurry around you, take a knee and pretend to catch your breath.

The footsteps behind you are predictable, and you tighten your hold on the shield. When the warrior gets close enough and tries striking, you lift your shield, catching his arm on the edge of it as you stand up.

You twist your arm holding on to the shield, feeling the strain in his own and hearing his surprised scream of pain.

It snaps out of place under the strain, and satisfied, you let go of him with a push. He stumbles forward and tries grabbing onto a dropped sword with his uninjured arm, and you let him.

Readying your stance, you notice two others refuse to retreat as well now that their countryman is fighting, but make no notice of them as you stride forward, driving your sword through him, ignoring his pitiful attempt at deflecting it.

You approach the other two, shield tightly grasped, and push back against the strike of the first one against your shield, deflecting the sword of the second one with your own.

Making use of your smaller size, you quickly spin in your place and slash the neck of one of them, lifting your shield just in time to stop the attack of the second one.

But he lets out a grunt, falls down before you can kill him. The Saxon falls on his face, an axe protruding from his back.

You lift your eyes to meet those of an unfamiliar warrior, who stands proudly and offers you a nod.

“You’re welcome.”

Walking past him and not bothering to hide your distaste, you insist, “I didn’t need any help, and certainly not from you.”

He proves to be more insistent than you would have thought, and for too many nights you have to bear him sitting close by to you, trying to impress you with one tale or another. The man is unbearably persistent on either bedding you or courting you, and as the days go by after the fight for Dunwich, he proves to not be the only one.

Until, eventually, you can’t take it anymore.

____

“I’m going to need an explanation for that.” Hlíf asks, a broad smile on her lips and eyes shining with mirth.

You grit your teeth and start walking away, but of course she follows.

The winds of East Anglia are biting, and the ground under your feet is still softer and so different than that of your home, but in the time that has passed since you and your warriors joined the Great Army you have learned to be as familiar with this foreign land of England as you once were with your own.

Granted, the incessant waves at the coast and the ever-present sea salt in the air that characterize Dunwich are not something you are planning on getting used to any time soon. You really just want to get back to York.

“I shouldn’t have saved her ass at Soham.” You mutter to yourself, even if you know you don’t mean it.

“I heard that!”

“You proved you have ears, congratulations.”

She skips the few steps she was lagging behind, walking at your side and matching your stride with a wide grin that you choose to ignore.

“Thank you, but I’m married,” She quotes, the mirth coming through in her voice, and she laughs to herself, “Gods above, Dane, what kind of answer is that?”

“He was insistent, and I couldn’t exactly fist fight one of Ubbe’s trusted men,” You explain, your voice a grumble when you add, “Tis not my fault if the prick heard I was a princess and suddenly decided he needed to have me.”

“You sure it was your title? After seeing you fight when we took this city, I’m not surprised so many want you.”

“Hey, I appreciate the compliment, don’t get me wrong,” You quip, sparing a glance to her, “But if you’re trying to court me, I’m afraid it will go as well as it did for Olvir.”

On her lips grows once again the mischievous and devilish smile, and the shieldmaiden tilts her head to the side as she says, “Oh, I know that, because you’re married.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why lie?”

“It wasn’t a lie.”

“If you think you’re making sense, prepare for disappointment.”

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s…complicated.”

“Well, the whole camp will soon hear about you telling Olvir you’re married, so we might as well get the story right: are you taken, Dane?”

Blunt, and to the point, not that you expected anything different from Hlíf.

You consider your words before answer, slowly, “Yes.”

She chuckles, shoulder knocking against yours playfully, “Ah, so who is the fool that has your heart but isn’t staking a claim?”

“He has, you just haven’t noticed.”

She stops walking, and so you too stop, turning to look at her wide eyes and offering a shrug of your shoulders again.

“You mean…” You nod, and past the surprise she finds it in her to laugh, shaking her head in amazement, “Oh, you really are a mad woman, aren’t you?”

“Well, we are technically married. I can’t turn my back on a bond before the Gods, right?”

She shakes her head with a chuckle, “So that is why you have been so insufferable, you miss York. I just thought you really hated East Anglia.”

“I really hate East Anglia.”

“Of course, Dane.”

____

You return to York as dawn breaks, and you don’t have time to get off your horse before Hvitserk is standing there, arms crossed over his chest and leaning with one shoulder on the entrance to the stables.

He offers his older brother a nod of his head as greeting, but Ubbe passes him by and Hvitserk keeps his eyes on you.

He blurts out, “You are married?”

“Hello to you too. I am glad to see you alive and well, dear Hvitserk.”

“You are married.”

You look at him, at his smug little smile and his warm eyes shining with mirth, and take a deep breath.

“You should know, you were there at the wedding.”

His sniggering laughter follows you as you walk away, but you forget your irritation quite quickly as you find Ivar in the rustle of movement, determined and uneven steps carrying him towards you.

Your smile is wide and lovesick and foolish, but you do not care for hiding it. His is quieter, more secret, but it doesn’t fail to make your heart skip a beat in your chest.

Ivar’s free hand grasps at the back of your neck once you are close enough, bringing your mouth to his with urgency, quickly letting the kiss become passionate as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Your hands find purchase on his hips, and more than ever you hate the armor that doesn’t let you feel him his warmth, his strength- under your fingers.

“I missed you.” You whisper quietly when you part, your brow pressed against his.

He blinks his eyes open, more than a little dazed, and the look in his eyes -the need, the adoration, the everything- makes a pang of heat go through you, threaten to set you alight with only a look.

“And I you.” He finally tells you, quiet voice rough.

You barely have time to be alone with Ivar before obligations pull you apart, a feast to welcome back the forces Ubbe and the Princess of Ribe, a reunion to exchange tales of victory and be together with those that were missed in the months apart.

Granted, that means that they don’t let you be together with the one you missed the most in those months apart, but you don’t have it in you to complain. Except you do, but that is not the point.

The night dies down and you roll your eyes at a few pointed toasts in congratulations for your marriage, but remain sitting at your place beside Ivar, pretending not to notice his hand on your knee or his arm around the back of your chair.

You grab his hand when it starts trailing up your leg and making you feel the effects of his touch like lightning crawling over your skin, and you could swear the smug bastard chuckles at the way you have to stop him.

“Eh, sister!” Hvitserk calls out, and with gritted teeth you turn to look at him, sitting by Sigurd’s side with an arm over his brother’s shoulders, “I am glad you are back, truly.”

“Thank you, Hvitserk.” You tell him, immediately feeling like you are about to regret accepting he doesn’t mean to tease you any longer.

“If only because I cannot stand my brother’s moping any longer. Who would have thought a son of Ragnar would be so loyal to his wife?”

You dismiss him with a gesture, but you cannot help but chuckle alongside the others.

Ivar turns his head towards you, nose almost nuzzling at your hair as he moves closer to speak by your ear,

“Why did you tell people you’re married?”

You don’t lift your gaze from your joined hands, following the trace of your fingers as they trace over the back of Ivar’s hand, “So that they would leave me alone.”

“No one is leaving you alone now that they think you are my wife.”

You spare him a look, glancing up, “The men that insist on either bedding me or courting me will, and that is enough for me.”

Ivar, of course, clings only to part of the words you speak, and his voice lowers, expression hardened with what you would swear is jealousy -pointless, unfounded, stupid jealousy- as he asks,

“Who are these men?”

Your eyes narrow, you honestly cannot believe this man.

“Are you serious right now?”

“I just want to know who they are.”

“I-…” Running your free hand through over your face, you bite back a groan, “Everyone thinks we are married now, shouldn’t you be worrying about that?”

He shrugs, “You were the one that told them you are married.”

“You are the one that I told them I’m married to!” You tell him, exasperated. He says nothing, and in the two blinks that he offers you somehow find it in you to be even more offended, “You truly are not worried?”

“Why should I be?”

Slowly, you remind him, “We are not actually married, Ivar.”

He shrugs, “We could be.”

“But we aren’t.”

“But we could be.” He insists easily.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, taking a moment to bite back irritation, you love him, even when he is being intentionally insufferable.

“Is this your way of asking me to marry you?”

“You seem to have done that for me already,” He replies instead, raised eyebrows and another shrug of his shoulders that only makes you angrier. “You seem to have done more than that.”

You sigh, and shake your head at his mocking, only to make him chuckle at your reaction. Gods, he is infuriating.

Ivar’s smile loses the mocking edge as he leans even close, pressing a soft kiss by the side of your mouth in an attempt to make you stop pretending to be angry.

“What’s the harm in that, hm?” He asks, eyes falling from yours to your lips when you finally turn your head to face him, “They know you’re mine now.”

You almost want to argue there’s no way they wouldn’t know judging by the way the two of you have been joined at the hip since you returned from Dunwick, but you won’t deny a part of you grows darkly proud at knowing everyone knows he is yours and yours alone.

“And you are mine.” You remind him lowly, the beginning of a smile on your lips. His eyes linger on the curve of your mouth, lids growing a little heavier at your words and tone, and you have never felt more powerful.

Ivar nods his head,

“I am, wife.”

____

As you come down from both of your highs you find out Ivar is as unwilling to relinquish the closeness as you are, and in between soft touches and breathed presses of lips on heated skin, you find a kind of peace you never realized how much you missed.

“I was thinking,” He starts, and you cannot stop yourself from teasing him, so you let out a soft, uh-oh, and he scoffs, biting down on the side of your neck in retaliation, “We will be settled in the Isles by next winter.”

Ivar pulls back to look at you, holding himself up on one of his arms. At the strange expression in his pale eyes, you reach up with one hand and caress the side of his face under the guise of moving his hair back.

“We will.”

“Let’s go back to Kattegat,” He tells you, a tad rushed, “For this winter. Let’s spend one last winter in Kattegat.”

“Are you homesick, love?” You drawl, a side smile that he rolls his eyes at.

“What do you say?”

You search his gaze, because something tells you there’s more to the question, more to the action of spending your winter in Kattegat.

You won’t lie and pretend you haven’t missed the town, you won’t lie and pretend the memories you made there aren’t still with you, kept safe by some nostalgic and soft part of your heart.

Fate has a funny way of working, you’ve learned, and time brought you back to the side of the boys you made so many of those memories alongside of. Time brought back to you the cadence of Sigurd’s voice as he hums in par with his oud, time brought back to you Ubbe’s easy companionship as you train together, time brought back to you the secret smiles you share with Hvitserk over a joke only the two of you know of. Time brought back to you the one you’ve loved since before you even knew what love was, brought back to you the heart that your own finds itself familiar with.

But there is a part of you that misses Kattegat and always will, the sinuous streets of your childhood, the foreign scents and sounds of the bubbling market.

Instead of giving your answer outright -you always did like making things harder than they have to be-, you muse aloud,

“Having married you when we were children should keep me safe from your mother’s wrath, shouldn’t it?”

“Wrath?”

You let your fingers trace over the scar over his lip, the one you are very much responsible for. In these last few months, you’ve grown quite fascinated with it, with how it stretches when he smiles one of those big and crooked smiles, and especially with how Ivar trembles when you run your tongue over it before kissing him.

But that is not the point.

The point is you are very much responsible for at least one of the new scars Aslaug’s youngest son bears, and she will know, and she will look at you in that way you remember from your younger years. It is enough to make a grown woman shiver.

Ivar chuckles as he understands your hesitation, “You don’t need to fear her.”

“Easy for you to say.” You scoff.

“And if I tell you she still remembers fondly that childish wedding? Will you agree to come then, hm?”

“No,” At his frustrated sigh you tighten your fingers on his hair in silent reprimand, “Now I know you’re just saying that to appease me.”

“I would never.” Ivar mocks, earning another tug of his hair that he breathes a laugh at. You don’t fail to notice the way the laugh stutters a bit past his lips, you are very much aware of your effect of your hands on him.

Said effect is very much evidenced in the way he doesn’t resist the temptation to lean down and steal your breath with the slowest of kisses, his nose nudging against yours softly before he speaks again, voice low,

“What if it wasn’t just that wedding?”

“W-What?”

His eyes open to look into yours, an edge of anxiety, of hesitation, that he -of course- pushes past anyways, clearing his throat and asking, “What if there were something more…permanent than that wedding from our childhood?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“A second and last time.” He vows, a quirk of his mouth that speaks of jest but does nothing to hide the apprehension that shines in his eyes.

There was never anyone else, not for you and not for him.

Your answer leaves your lips in a breath that Ivar doesn’t hesitate to taste against your lips, with a gentleness that speaks of adoration and desperation, stealing your breath much in the same way he stole your heart.

____

Aslaug almost wants to laugh at the irony that it was the youngest of her boys that was the first one the be married, not once, but two times. And, surprising only those that don’t know him well enough, to the same woman both times.

Older but still holding that arrogant pride at the announcement -the same pride she saw in him when you walked Kattegat’s streets with your hand in Ivar’s- Ivar sat down in front of her and told her he had found a woman he wanted to marry.

And her heart felt a surge of a warmth she had long since missed with all her sons fighting their wars and their father’s across the sea; not willing or capable to hold back the wide smile that blossomed in her face.

Her hands cupped her son’s face, and the small, almost shy smile he offered her reminded her so much of the boy he once was. She promised her blessing and vowed how proud she was, and in silence, as she looked into her youngest son’s eyes, she thanked the Gods for being allowed to live to see this, to see him happy.

She knows there are so many twists of Fate that have let this happen. She knows -like she knows the streets of her kingdom- of the paths their son’s life could have taken, almost took. She knows of yours, and what could have been.

Even if she hadn’t heard of your close encounter with death in England, she would have the moment she was forced to see in her dreams what had happened across the sea, she would have the moment she saw the way it still haunted Ivar today.

For almost two weeks she dreamt of her son’s voice, the same repeated pleas to the Gods -to whatever would listen- said so many times his voice grew ragged and broke. Still, he did the one thing he could, and pleaded with the Gods for more time, for anything other than this.

He needn’t know she went to the Volür and they all made a sacrifice praying with the Gods to give a Dane shieldmaiden strength and health. He needn’t know, and he won’t.

Because it is past now, and you have healed and learned, and he has healed too. And there is no use in resurfacing pain in an occasion such as this.

Kattegat is lively even as winter approaches fast and cruel, the flurry of motion increased even more now that a Prince is to get married.

Your smile is the same mad little smile she remembers from your younger years in Kattegat, and Helga’s hands are more worn and her smile is a tad dimmer, but her fingers are still nimble and gentle as they braid the wedding crown of winter flowers.

Aslaug feels the pull of emotion when Ivar cups your face between trembling hands and kisses his wife for the first time, she feels the tears prickling at her eyes at the lovesick smiles on your faces as you remain in that moment after a kiss for a few breaths, eyes locked together and futures intertwined.

Ubbe stands tall as he watches his younger brother get married, and Aslaug’s heart grows warm at the easy smile that curves her son’s lips. She still cannot help herself, and finds herself hoping before winter is over and her sons are to depart from her side again, that she can see him with a woman by his side as well. For too long Ubbe carried a burden he shouldn’t have, shouldering the brunt of the world for the sake of his brothers, a boy trying to stand as tall as the man that left an absence in his place after Paris. Even if she once argued she cares not if they find love as long as they find a good woman to breed and form a family with, she holds the secret hope that she can see Ubbe happily settled with someone that he can love.

She hopes the same for Hvitserk, who watches the ceremony with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, but she knows better than to expect him to settle anytime soon. Before the celebratory feast is halfway over, he has teasingly held a young girl to his side and exclaimed, mother, I am getting married as well, three times, with three different women. She doesn’t hold much hope he will settle soon, and has to bite her tongue and tell herself she is happy for him even if he insists on sleeping his way through Kattegat.

Reluctantly, she admits it is Sigurd who might follow in Ivar’s footsteps and marry next. He and that Christian girl have been promised to one another for years now, and the excuse of war and distance has kept them safe from their obligations to marry. But Aslaug knows it is a matter of time. For all her demure and shy nature, Blaeja’s eyes shine with something like amazement as she takes in the wedding ceremony even if a faint blush covers her face at yours and Ivar’s displays of affection. And she won’t pretend she doesn’t notice the way Sigurd lingers close to the princess, irradiating that gentleness of him that Aslaug is still regretful for having made so fragile in her carelessness.

Winter lets her have all her sons with her, though she knows it is probably the last time. Ivar has plans to settle in the Isles, the title of king and the promise of advantageous positions for his war against Alfred enough of a lure to keep her son across the sea; Ubbe has intentions to settle and take families with him to England even if he has to wade through blood to do so, Sigurd won’t stay too long away from his princess anymore, and Hvitserk will nevr bear to stay apart from his brothers.

But she has this winter, and it is enough. She will sit with her sons and have dinner while they talk and argue and laugh, and she will hear Ivar and Sigurd go for each other’s throats as if they haven’t spent these years fighting side by side, and she will watch you and Ivar get drunk on nothing but each other, and she will thank the Gods for all of it.

____ ____ ____

Thank you for reading, I apologize if this isn’t very good, I tried my best. Love ya!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla @fae-sedai @zuxiezendler @crazybunnyladysworld @stupiddarkkside @northumbria @aprilivar

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar

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yui-kuromori · 4 years ago

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Okay so mafia AU

The Wonderland’s tea party is an organization led by the Hatter. It’s specializes in drug trafficking, blackmail and selling information.

Arisu and Usagi are it’s newest members. They got recruited on accident really and it’s mostly Arisu’s fault. He was on the subway one day and sat beside this older man wearing sunglasses struggling with a piece of paper on his hand. It was hatter, who was trying to figure out the safest routes in and out of a building for an information robbery from a big company. Arisu had kinda peered at the map, gotten excited because *puzzle*, and offered Hatter some help. After Hatter tells him the “rules” Arisu spends the rest of the ride tracing out paths and tragedies, before leaving a baffled Hatter behind.

So Hatter’s like “we need this kid” and sends Niragi and Last Boss to “Invite him for tea”. Unfortunately for them, when they go to corner Arisu, he’s out with Usagi, and Usagi upon being told by Arisu that he think’s they’re being followed, and notices Piercings and Face Tattoos, goes “I think the fuck not”, grabs her best friend and *bolts*.

And run she does, going full parkour ninja, hauling Arisu’s skinny ass around. Niragi and Last Boss try following them, but after a while, she just looses them altogether. They report back to Hatter who just goes: “He has a ninja girlfriend?? We need them” and he’s really excited about it.

He sends in Chishiya and Kuina to actually talk to them this time and after some coaxing, they agree to at least try out. They both need the money.

What they didn’t expect was for them to be immediately adopted into the found family dynamic. Arisu and Kuina are immediately trans buddies, and Aguni is like “Okay, two more children for me and Takeru”, Last Boss takes the position of scary older brother, specially for Usagi, and even Niragi treats them nicely (in his own way).

Feat. Very concerned friends Karube and Chouta who have no idea what’s happening, their college classmates, who are running a rumor mill, Arisu’s awful family that keeps popping up even after he moves in with Usagi and Shibuki, who’s literally just vibing.

Also, this is probably Arisu x Chishiya

ROLECALL

Name: Danma Takeru

Code name: Mad Hatter

Skills: He is the leader and founder of Wonderland’s tea party. What used to be a two person gang grew into an organization because of his visionary attitude and charming personality. His charisma allows for nice deals and sales, while his ruthlessness keeps their family protected. He doesn’t usually go out on mission, but he’s a skilled fighter and a surprisingly smart man. He also has a keen eye and sharp intuition, especially when picking out new members.

Name: Aguni Morizono

Code name: Bandersnatch

Skills: He is the second founder and Hatter’s right hand man. He is the muscle of the operation, the strongest member on the team. He is responsible for dealing with their enemies, carrying out threats, defending their territory and keeping their family safe. He also trains all members on how to use guns, weapons and fight. He took Usagi under his wing, as he not only could see a bit of himself in her, but their fighting styles could be similar.

Name: Chishiya Shuntaro

Code name: Cheshire

Skills: He’s their doctor. He patches up whoever is hurt and occasionally deals with a dead body or two. He’s also responsible for gathering intel. He often goes undercover in big corporations and rival groups to gather some vital secret information that could be sold for a lot of money, or takes those groups down from the inside. He’s the one who took Arisu under his wing, noticing how good he is at reading people’s hearts, he’s been teaching him how to manipulate and lie and now they usually go undercover together.

Name: Kuina Hikari

Code name: Caterpillar or Absolem

Skills: Kuina is a dealer. She accompanies Hatter when he goes to strike a deal not only because of her charisma and people skills, but because she functions as a secret bodyguard. She’s also usually on robberies and stealth missions, where being undercover is not necessary but they still need to get in and out of somewhere unseen to get shit done. To those, she’s usually paired with Chishiya. She’s the one teaching Arisu how to fight, since their styles are the most similar.

Name: Niragi Suguru

Code name: March Hare

Skills: This is their killer ok? Need someone disposed of? Call Niragi. Need someone intimidated? Call Niragi. Some group is trying to start a turf war? Call Aguni who’s gonna take Niragi and Last Boss and they’ll fix it. Niragi’s also responsible for their weapons and sometimes will help with scheming. He’s decievingly protective of his family and shows affection with acts of violence. If you want any piercings he’ll do it for you.

Name: Samura Takatora (last boss)

Code name: Jabberwocky

Skills: His position is the same as Niragi’s. They are usually paired together for missions. While Niragi takes care of the guns, Last Boss takes care of knives and swords. They are usually sent with Ann or Arisu whenever they have to meet people and their looks alone are enough to intimidate any potential threats. He’s been teaching Usagi how to spear fight and is secretly delighted someone else has taken to more traditional weapons. If you ever want a tattoo, he’s the one to ask for.

Name: Ann Rizuna

Code name: White Queen

Skills: She’s the one responsible for most of their drug operation. While Hatter makes the deals, she’s the one crutching numbers, distributing product and sometimes even cooking up drugs herself. She can also fill in for Chishiya as their doctor and Along with him, Arisu and Niragi, she’s the one tracing most of their plans. If any of them were to die, she would be the one responsible for finding out who did it and helping to hunt them down.

Name: Tatta Kodai

Codename: Dormouse or Arganaz

Skills: Tatta is their getaway driver. He can outdrive everyone and anyone. His knowledge in mechanics helps them with their robberies and he’s been known to pull some Dean Winchester level stunts behind the wheel. He also keeps communication between teams clear and smooth. He’s been learning some basics under Ann’s wing and is getting pretty good at, uh, cooking.

Name: Usagi Yuzuha

Code name: White Rabbit

Skills: She’s a fighter and a runner. When she’s not in a position similar to Aguni’s, she’s doing patrols around their territory, spying on rivals and enemies from the top of buildings and helping Tatta to keep all the teams in the know. She’s usually paired with Arisu in the same way Kuina is paired with Chishiya. She’s also the only one that can keep them all sleeping a minimum of four hours a night and eating somewhat healthy food with a decent frequency. Many suspect that if Aguni retires, she’ll be the one to take his place.

Name: Arisu Ryohei

Code name: Alice

Skills: Arisu quickly become a big part of the brains behind most of their operations. He views plans with Hatter, tracing escape routes and planning damage control. He also goes undercover with or without Chishiya a lot, his innocent demeanor making him appear trustworthy. He’s also the one to analyze their oponents and tell the teams exactly where to look at for blackmail. He wrote down the plans that actually took down some big corporations. He’s been learning how to fight from Kuina, and is steadily getting better. He’s been also slowly learning how to hack, it’s just another puzzle for him.

#alice in borderland #ima wa no kuni no alice #arisu ryohei #kuina basically adopts him #usagi yuzuha #tatta kodai #ann rizuna #last boss #niragi suguru #chishiya shuntaro #hikari kuina #morizono aguni #danma takeru #hatter x aguni #karube daikichi #chota aib #saori shibuki #trans arisu

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i-like-writing-stuff · 4 years ago

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sorry [five hargreeves x reader]

request: wanted to say I love ur 5 fics and how you portray their relationship as old partners :”) 💖If it’s not trouble to do (Dont feel obligated plz) I had this idea of 5 and reader having a fight and them being too prideful or bitter to apologize. Reader ignores him for some time and Five gets grumpier than usual bc of that. To the point where, one of his siblings tell him to just stop being children, apologize and give them flowers. But he finds it hard bc he is not good with that kinda of stuff ☺️

a/n: thank youuu <3, i try my best to keep the tua characters in... well, character lol- as much as possible! i hope this fic turned the way you wanted it, anyway- enjoy!!~

summary: five gets grumpy when his girlfriend gives him the silent treatment for being a jerk... shocker.

“Could you stop for one damn second and relax?!” You yelled at your boyfriend, already stressed out by the way he had been almost carving a hole through the floor of the living room with all his pacing.

“Relax?!” Five yelled, turning to glare at you, “Do you even realize how stupid you sound?! How could I relax- I lost my last lead on that fucking eye!”

“Come again?” You raised a brow, crossing your arms as you watched him curiously. Did he just call you stupid indirectly?

Your nerves were tugging at the last threads of patience you had left within you- they had been doing that for a few days. You knew that life wouldn’t be quiet when you decided to give a relationship with your partner a shot, but you never expected things to get so messy.

Not only you followed his grumpy butt all the way to 2019 to stop an apocalypse- which you couldn’t care less about, now you had been stuck in your younger bodies because he miscalculated something before traveling in time. On top of all that, he had been a jerk to his siblings- which you grew quite fond of and viceversa, he also started being an asshole to you, all because he couldn’t find a way to stop the apocalypse.

“Five Hargreeves, did you just call me stupid?” You asked, seeing that he was frozen in place, going back over his words in his mind.

“Not exactly.” He knitted his brows in confusion, before realizing the irritated look on your face, “I don’t have time for this, Y/N.”

“You think I had any time these past two years putting up with your shit?” You retorted, making him raise his brows in surprise by your sudden burst, “Screw you, asshole.”

“Now that was rude!” He yelled after you, once you started walking out of the room, completely ignoring him, “Y/N!”

You had been with the Commission for over four decades, you completely trusted its choices, since you never were given a reason not to. Well, that was until the Handler recruited Five Hargreeves. He was about four-five years older than you, but nonetheless still had the impeccable skills of an assassin- just what the organization wanted and needed.

You, being one of the Handler’s most trusted agents, she assigned him under your wing in the beginning until he’d get adjusted. So, he became your partner, it didn’t take long until he became your partner in the real sense of the word.

Five was in love with you- stupidly in love with you. He loved your wit and your kindness, he loved that he could have intellectual conversations with you for hours on end, he loved the fact that he’d feel whole again with just one look at your face, your smile, your eyes.

But he was a prideful man, he knew that. If he was wrong- which he rarely was, he had no intention of apologizing. You knew how important stopping the apocalypse was to him, but... it pained you to see him almost lose his shit completely when he loses the last remaining lead.

For the next couple of hours, you completely avoided him at all costs until he’d get that stick out of his ass and apologize.

And he’d better have a grand way of doing it.

You knew that it was not like him- he’d never apologize, and the fact that you were avoiding him was not making it any easier on him, but you were beyond pissed. Even if he may not have meant it, all you tried to do was help him relax for a moment, take a breather before that pretty head of his would explode. And in return?

In return, Five fucking Hargreeves continues being an asshole- what a surprise.

“Jesus, where did all the caffeine in this house go?!” Five groaned, searching the cupboards in the kitchen, feeling grumpier than usual.

“I told you- dad didn’t like it.” Allison reminded him, as she and Luther sat at the table, watching him in confusion, “What’s got into you?”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, not done yet with his search- he wanted at least something that felt like coffee, “Come on- we don’t even have... coffee flavored fucking chocolate or some shit like that..?” He mumbled, shutting the cupboard with a loud smack.

“She means... you’re... grumpier... than usual...” Luther hesitantly explained, afraid that his little-older psychotic brother might have finally snapped.

“Mind your business, will ya?” Five asked with a fake smile, stomping out of the kitchen.

“I love Y/N, I swear I do... and oddly enough, Five too.” Allison spoke up, “But honestly, what was she thinking becoming his girlfriend?”

“I am just happy for her they’re not married.” Luther shrugged, resting his hand on his palm, as Diego walked into the kitchen;

“Is it just me or is Five a lesser ray of sunshine than usual?”

The following day, you treated Five with the same coldness as the prior day, which really drove him insane. Not only he spent the night in his bed alone, since you decided to bunk for the night in one of the empty rooms, but now you were still giving him the silent treatment.

Luckily, during breakfast, the Hargreeves siblings finally managed to understand what was going on.

“Hey, Diego, do you think we can pay Eudora a visit at the station after breakfast?” You asked the man, “I promised her the other day some files to help with an investigation she has on the side.”

“Sure thing.” Diego smiled, looking forward to seeing the detective again, even if he bickered with her from time to time.

“What files?” Five asked curiously.

“Vanya, can you please pass me the salt?” You ignored him, smiling at his sister.

Vanya raised a brow, unsure what to do, as the other siblings were piecing the puzzle together. Five raised a brow, as you avoided eye contact with him, waiting for the salt shaker which was, ironically, closer to him than Vanya.

“Here.” He said, reaching for it before his sister, handing it to you.

You looked at him with a smile, then at the salt shaker that was waiting on you to pick it from your boyfriend’s hand. Instead, you scoffed, getting up from your seat with your plate in your hands, suddenly losing your appetite.

“I am gonna go change.” You declared, placing your dish in the sink, “Diego, I’ll wait for you in the car.”

“Unbelievable....” Five muttered, throwing the salt shaker somewhere on the table, before abruptly getting up from his seat to pour himself a cup of freshly made coffee- Klaus made sure to stock up since Allison and Luther told him what had happened the other day.

“Why is Y/N giving you the cold shoulder?” Diego asked his brother, raising a brow.

“Leave me alone.” Five muttered, leaving the room even grumpier, with his hot cup of coffee in his hand to at least soothe him down a bit.

“Five!” Allison yelled after him, but he was already out of there, “Urgh, he’s such a child!”

After you and Diego had left the Hargreeves mansion, Five found it hard to focus on trying to get another lead on the prosthetic eye- he could not stop thinking about the fact that it almost had been twenty four hours since the woman he loved had chosen to deliberately ignore him, all because his stupid mouth could not help snapping at her.

What a moron he was, he knew that.

“Y/N told me what happened.” Allison told her brother, entering his room softly, watching as he laid on his bed on his back, “And woah- aren’t you an asshole?”

“What do you want, Allison?” He asked, rolling his eyes, staring up at his ceiling.

“Here’s a crazy idea... why don’t you apologize?” She suggested, crossing her arms.

“Have you... met me?” Five frowned, lifting his head to watch his sister in confusion.

“Look, you and Y/N both need to stop being children!” She said, “I know you may have teen bodies, but aren’t you both like over fifty? Honestly, Five...”

“Knowing I will regret this, what do you suggest, Allison?” Five asked with a sigh, watching as his sister smirked in response.

You and Diego didn’t really take long to finish your business at the police station. In about thirty minutes, you both were back on your way home, unaware of the big surprise that was waiting for you.

You entered the house, stretching your arms, already telling yourself you needed a drink, even if it was only noon. You figured a glass of some expensive bourbon would calm you down, so you made your way in the living room, as Diego went to his room in his own business.

Although, you couldn’t help but widen your eyes in surprise, as you stopped in your tracks once your look fell on Five, who was sitting at the bar with a Margarita in one hand, and a big bouquet of flowers rested in his lap.

“Five?” You frowned, stepping towards him confused.

Never in his life, would Five ever think he’d be so happy to hear his name on your lips. He softly smiled, realizing that Allison’s plan was working, as you finally spoke to him, even if it was one word.

“Y/N.” Five gulped, setting down his glass to jump off the stool, “These are for you...” He hesitantly said, stretching his hands towards you, as he held the big, colorful bouquet of all sorts of flowers towards you.

“I... Uh... what?” You frowned, taken aback by the gesture.

Five wasn’t necessarily the romantic type, so this was the first bouquet of flowers you ever received from him. You knew he loved you with all his heart and he was in love with you, that’s why you didn’t care about the romantic gestures he never did- but, right now, watching his cheeks turn into a slight shade of pink as he was biting on his bottom lip anxiously- your heart melted.

Allison had given him all sorts of advice on how to apologize to you with the help of Vanya, since they were both well aware of the fact that their brother was not capable of saying such words by himself. But right now, as you stood before him, Five had forgotten all that they taught him.

“I... I suck at this kind of stuff, I gotta be honest.” Five sighed, stepping closer to you, still with the bouquet in his hands, as you were still hesitant, “I... I shouldn’t have snapped at you, Y/N, I know. You didn’t deserve to be told that, even if I didn’t mean it at all. I swear, I was only mad and I never meant to take it out on you.”

“Oh my God.” You covered your mouth in shock, “Are you... actually... trying to apologize to me?”

“Sort of... yeah...” Five sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “Look, what I am trying to say... What I am trying to say is that I appreciate your love, and having your support with me, and I know you care about my well-being.”

“Keep going...” You smirked, stepping closer to him, “Come on... they are three simple words.”

“Right...” Five sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Look, Y/N? I... I am...”

You didn’t even let him finish, as you softly took the bouquet out of his hand not to squish it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a tight hug. You knew how hard it must have been so far for a know-it-all like Five to say that, so you didn’t want to push him further. To you it was enough that he at least felt sorry for bursting like that.

“I love you.” Five sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist, “And I truly mean what I said earlier.”

“I love you too.” You smiled, not yet pulling away from the loving embrace, “And I know... I know...”

Five pulled away to smile down at you, “Thank you for being so understanding... and supportive.”

“I’d say it is my pleasure, but I’d be lying.” You teased him, bopping his nose with the free hand that was not wrapped around his neck still and holding the flowers.

“Hilarious.” Five sarcastically said, slowly leaning in, “I think I liked it better when you weren’t talking.”

“Really?” You scoffed, but before you could continue the playful banter, Five had already captured your lips into a soft kiss, finding a better way to shut you up.

#tua #tua netflix #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #netflix #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #five hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years ago

Note

hi laurennnn. how about soft platonic!wandanat (like wanda and nat are in a relationship, reader isn't) taking care of the reader (who they've kinda taken under their wing) after she did something really stupid on a mission? i hope that makes sense

Happy WandaNat Wednesday!!!

Title: Breathing Again

Word count: 3k

Pairing: WandaNat x Platonic!Reader

Warning: a little sad, some fluff

A/N: Minimal editing so I do apologise! Mysh (mouse) Myshka (little mouse)

Gif owner @diegclila <3

For Alexis x @canarypoint

Breathing Again

The first thing you noticed was the pain, that sore aching pain that reached all over your body as you tried to adjust to the bright light as you awake, groaning at the sensitivity of your eyes that stare back at the white light. Your gaze flickers around the dark room trying to gather your senses, blurry outlines begin to focus as you notice a familiar figure curled up on the chair beside the bed you’re lying on. You swallow and lick at your dried lips.

“Wanda,” your voice rasped and croaked as you gained the tired witch’s attention watching her rouse to the sound of your voice. She moves quickly from her position once she notices you awake, her hands tentatively brushing your hair from your face as green eyes take in the almost healed bruises and scrapes that scatter across your skin.

“Shh sweetheart, here drink some water.” she instructs softly, her voice hushed as she moves to grab you a glass of water from the side table. She tilts the glass to your lips slowly allowing you to take in the cold liquid sighing in relief as you quench your dying thirst. Turning your head you watch her frantically move towards the door calling for someone as you frown still unsure of your whereabouts, she rushes back over to you and smiles reassuringly.

“What happened to me?” you ask, the events still a blur as you try to remember pieces of the mission. It was supposed to be a simple rescue job until an old rival of Tony’s decided to show up and stir up trouble causing the mission to go sideways, a second explosion had gone off close to where you were helping civilians escape out of the wreckage from the first hit unaware of the possibility of a second wave of explosions.

Wanda sits on the edge of the bed, her hand rubbing soothing strokes across your bicep. Watery eyes lock onto your own as you see her struggle to gather her words, before her gaze drops to her lap.

“You were almost out of the building when the second explosion went off, Nat tried to get to you she was screaming for you to retreat but you were too stubborn for your own good,” she pauses, as she raises a scolding eyebrow at you but her eyes remain soft and full of relief at seeing you awake and breathing; living. “There was a cry for help just south of the building and as you got them out the explosion hit and you- you tried to use your powers to deflect the force but you weren’t prepared for it and-” a sob escapes from her throat as you struggle to sit upright tilting your head to gain her attention again.

“I’m okay Wanda,” your words make her look up almost instantly, a small sad smile gracing her lips.

“Barely, we were told that your chances of coming around-” “Y/N!” Tony’s voice cuts off Wanda’s as he races in with a woman dressed in a white lab coat, her badge indicating her profession. She moves swiftly towards you shining a bright light in both of your eyes making you squint at the harshness, your body still coming around from what feels like a million years of slumber.

“Nice to see that you’ve come around, Y/N. I’m Doctor Jones, I’ve been looking after you while you’ve been here. Do you know where you are?” she asks, as if routine. “I uh- yeah. The hospital right?” you mumble, not overly confident with your answer. She smiles kindly at you as she nods in confirmation.

“That’s right and while we have been able to keep you stable, you’ve been through some major trauma alright so I need you to take it easy for me while we go through some routine check ups okay? Do you remember what happened to you?” she continues to ask questions as she checks over your vitals, moving with such ease and experience as Tony remains quiet next to her but still hovers close to the good doctor who seems to be irritated by his lack of personal space. From the expression on her face this isn’t the first time Tony’s been pestering her while you’ve been out, you frown at that thought.

“How long have I been out for?” your question makes them freeze, as Doctor Jones for the first time pauses as she writes on your chart, eyes flicker from one another. Wanda licks her lips as she looks away seeming to struggle with answering your question making you turn your attention to Tony. His shoulders slack as he stands a few inches away biting at his thumb nail.

“Two months and three days,” his words make your eyes widen as the machine next to you begins to bleep loud and fast.

“Two months!” you exclaim, your breathing becoming more erratic as you feel your chest tighten. Wanda seems to finally snap out of her tortured daydream as she focuses on your anxious form, her lips shushing you, her hands cupping your jaw as her thumbs brush across your cheekbones.

“Y/N. Listen to me, I need you to calm down okay?” she instructs, taking a deep breath in silently asking you to mimic her actions. A familiar routine that you’ve both done ever since your first anxiety attack after your first mission with the team. Her soothing efforts seem to work as Doctor Jones informs you that all your vitals seem to be all stable and that once you have been medically reviewed, you can be discharged home back to Avengers Tower.

Once the Doctor had left, Tony finally joined you and Wanda by the bedside sitting at the foot of the hospital bed. The pair caught you up on the past two months reassuring you that not a lot had changed, the lack of Natasha’s name didn’t go unnoticed by yourself though.

“Wait, what happened to Natasha?” the two share a look at the mention of the redhead assassin. Tony pats your leg and smiles softly.

“She’s fine, Kid.” he reassures, but Wanda’s distant look does nothing to calm your worries.

Since joining the Avengers you have become close to the assassin and the witch that sits beside you. The two had been dating for a while before you joined the team and became somewhat like mother’s to you, your mentors. Peter has Tony and you, well you had the two most badass women on your side. Moving away from your parents to live with the Avenger’s had been difficult at first, still trying to control your powers as well finding a way to fit into an already established team was hard but Natasha had been nice and warm towards you, teaching you the basics in hand to hand combat as well as weapons training while Wanda had taken you under her wing in the power’s department, having some power over certain elements yourself made you bond instantly with the witch. You had never been close to your parents, your abilities instantly labelling you as an outsider to them and the rest of your family but since being with the Avengers and having Natasha and Wanda look out for you, you finally felt a sense of belonging.

Biting your lip, you nod trying to convince yourself of his words.

***

Walking slowly into the shared common room, you allow Wanda to guide you gently into the living room space where some of the team wait impatiently for you. Peter spots you first, smiling brightly as he takes in your tired form. Jogging over to you, he gently takes you into his arms and squeezes lightly.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispers, you squeeze your eyes shut to hold back on the tears. The realisation of just how close you were to losing your life becoming more prominent as you squeeze him back ignoring the pain that creeps up around your body at the tight pressure.

“Me too,” you whisper back, before pulling away and greeting the others. Your heart tightens as the emotions from the last two days start to surface as Thor is last to greet you, his gentleness surprising you at the usually strong and mighty God who doesn’t realise his own strength at times. As they step away to give you some room to settle down on the sofa, you can’t help but look around for the certain redhead. Wanda notices your search as she comes to sit next to you, the guys moving towards the kitchen to help prepare for dinner which only heightens your suspicions knowing that Steve is the only one allowed to cook in the kitchen after the last incident that involved the microwave, pop-tarts and Thor.

“Wanda, is Nat okay with me? Doesn’t she want to see me?” your voice leaving her no room to dodge your questions. She brushes a lock of your hair behind your ear as she searches for the right words.

“Nat is fine, Mysh. Of course she wants to see you, she just- after the doctor told us that you might not make it through, Nat kinda retreated into herself. She would sit for hours at your bedside, I was the only one besides Clint who could get her to eat and sleep. I only managed to convince her to come back here a few days before you woke to get some proper rest,” she pauses, as tears build in her eyes. “Y/N, you have to understand one thing about Natasha. She has always been taught that love is for children, that in itself closed her off to any kind of personal relationships with others even after leaving the red room. Since meeting Clint and then being here with us, she’s been able to let go of that old notion and genuinely open up to the possible idea of love and friendship, to me, to the team, including you, Little Mouse.” she grins as she calls you the familiar nickname that Nat gave you after you started training with her.

“Is she here? I’d like to talk to her,” you murmur, suddenly feeling the need to apologize to her for not listening to her during that mission but most of all needing to reassure her and see her for yourself. Wanda nods as she leans forward pressing a kiss to your temple.

“She’ll be in your room,” she informs you, a knowing look passes through her green eyes as you nod. You stand and head for the elevator that leads to the private quarters before pausing and quickly moving back to Wanda briefly wrapping your arms around her chest from behind leaning your head against hers for a moment.

“Thank you for looking after me,” you mumble, she pats your arms and smiles.

“Go and see Nat,” are her only words, making you salute her mockingly as she laughs.

***

Taking a deep breath in you allow yourself a moment as you take in the familiar hallway to your bedroom, observing the picture frames on the wall. Frames showing yourself with the couple on your birthday, cooking with Wanda and Peter in the kitchen and one from your latest sleepover with the two, face masks in place as you pull silly faces. You notice your bedroom door ajar as you peek through the gap noticing Natasha’s figure curled up on your bed as her shoulders remain rigid and stiff as she faces away from you.

“Wan, I’m not in the mood-”

“It’s me,” you cut in, watching her become tense at the sound of your voice. She quickly sits up from your bed and faces you, her face stoic as her blue eyes take in your form. Moving further into the room you decide to crouch in front of her placing your hands onto her knees.

“It’s me Nat, I’m home.” you whisper, fidgeting in place as your nervousness begins to take over. Her hands tentatively reach your cheeks cupping your jaw as her eyes assess the fading bruises.

“I am so angry with you,” she murmurs, her voice betraying her words as fear remains evident in her voice. Your lips twitch as tears begin to build in your eyes.

“I know and I’m so sorry I should have listened to you-”

“Damn straight you should have. Do you know how scared I was when I finally got to you? You were so pale and you wouldn’t wake-,” she trails off, as she continues to take in your face.

“Natasha I know I scared you-”

“Scared me?! I have never been so terrified in my life Y/N, do you understand how important you are to this team, to Wanda.. To me! I know how frightened your parents were when we told them, they threatened to have you transferred to the hospital back at home and for us to never see you again.” you try to interrupt to explain that you understood but she continues, the emotions from the last two months finally surfacing.

“You may not realise this, but we care about you... so much, Y/N. At first I was so angry with you for being so darn stubborn and not listening to me,” she confesses, standing to her feet as she begins to pace. You stand as well stepping back to allow her room to let out her frustrations folding your arms across your stomach.

“Nat, I understand how reckless I was okay? I’m sorry I don't know what else to say right now,” you murmur, suddenly regretting the decision to do this now as you begin to feel lightheaded. The day’s events slowly creep up on top of you as you close your eyes for a second trying to steady yourself. Natasha seems to notice your swaying state and reaches forward wrapping a protective arm around your waist, guiding you towards the bed.

“Are you okay, Myshka?” she asks, worry evident in her voice. “Lie down,” she instructs softly, making sure the pillows are plumped behind your head. You look up shyly at her feeling the dizzy spell surpass slightly.

“Will you stay with me? Since I pretty much slept for two months I’m scared that when I close my eyes I’ll-”

“I know, Kid. Scoot over then,” she bumps her elbow against your shoulder as she comes to lie next to you. Facing each other, you can see the conflict pass through her blue eyes as she brushes a thumb across your cheek, capturing an escaped tear.

“If you need to sleep, you can. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” she promises, watching as your eyes slowly start to close on command. Natasha continues to watch as your lashes flutter, a small smile spreading across her lips.

“How is she?” Wanda’s voice whispers from the doorway, Nat turns her head towards her girlfriend, her eyes softening.

“She was feeling a little woozy but I think she just needed some rest,” she explains, Wanda moves forwards and kisses Natasha briefly keeping her head close to the redhead for a moment.

“And how are you, my darling?” Natasha shrugs, turning to face you again as Wanda moves to lie on your other side smiling warmly as you seek her out even in your sleep, cuddling into her side.

“I’m doing okay, just knowing she’s here and safe it’s like I can suddenly breath again you know.” Wanda nods understanding her brief sense of loss and grief for you, the uncertainty of whether you would wake again still lingering. Natasha’s eyes rest upon your sleeping form as she continues to open up to the witch.

“I may not have the privilege of carrying a child but she gives me hope, that I can be that mother figure and not screw it up with my own past traumas,” Wanda smiles, as she glances down at you.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Just so you know she is grounded for the next three years,” Natasha’s vows, although the teasing glint in her eyes shows she only half means it, making Wanda chuckle.

“I think you’ll have to get in line because her parents are on their way here,” Wanda informs, squealing as you suddenly sit upright, eyes wide at the mention of your parents.

“Shit! My parents!” you exclaims, groaning as you hold the side of your head feeling a sudden headache coming on, Wanda pats your back in sympathy.

“Don’t worry, Mysh. We’ve got your back,”

“Speak for yourself,” Nat mutters, grumpily. You turn your head to face her, a pout in place knowing it’s never a good sign when Natasha sides with your parents.

“Have already told you how sorry I am?” you ask, innocently making Nat grin mischievously.

Two weeks later

“One large pizza for the still grounded teenager,” Wanda teases, as she enters her shared living room with Natasha holding two boxes of pizza.

You turn your head from your sitting position on the floor as the smell hits your nose, wiggling your fingers towards them as you reach out for the top box. Sticking your tongue out at the avenger for her comment, you open up the lid and take a big sniff humming in delight at the greasy goodness.

“I’m going to forgive you for that comment. The pizza saved you this time, Maximoff,” you warn jokingly at the brunette as Natasha comes to sit next to you on the floor, her back leaning against the sofa. Wanda places a few slices onto her plate before curling up onto the single seat, her eyes full of fondness as she takes you both in, watching as you slap Nat’s hand away from your pizza slices.

“You guys know we have a couch you can sit on, right?” she teases, as you and Nat shrug stuffing the slice into your mouths eyes focused on the television.

“Come on, babe. Don’t be boring and join us,” Natasha entices, her eyes full of mischief as Wanda scoffs shaking her head.

“You both eat like animals. I’ll stay over here with my half of the pizza thank you very much,” she huffs but the glint in her eyes shows her amusement.

You all continue to munch happily on the cheesy slices as you and Natasha make ridiculous comments about the reality TV show that plays on the flat screen making you both laugh. Wanda smiles fondly enjoying the peace and the very normal atmosphere; being a well known superhero with many enemies makes moments like this rare so she remains quiet, that small smile playing on her lips as she observes her two favourite people in this rare domestic bliss knowing there’s no other place she’d rather be.

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @natasharomanoffswife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

#natasha romanoff x wanda #Wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader #platonic!reader #marvel #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff

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absolutepokemontrash · 4 years ago

Text

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Part 4

(The side characters strike again!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Part 3

L!MC= Lucifer’s kid | M!MC= Mammon’s kid | A!MC=Asmo’s kid

Let’s get right to it!

The Uncle That Hardcore Simps For His Spouse In the Most Wholesome Way (Diavolo)

Gasp! More half-demon kids? Oh my! Maybe if he tried again next year a kid of his own would pop down! Hang on- he hadn’t slept with a human in almost a century... dang. No kids for him...

...maybe...

Remember when I said Diavolo would try to do those stereotypical dad (tm) things and be hip with the kids? Yeah he keeps doing that.

The number of broken windows related to wayward baseballs goes up 150%. At least that’s how they all figured out that M!MC is nearsighted like their dad!

M!MC had developed a bit of a habit of telling Diavolo about cool human stuff and making the Crown Prince even more interested in the human world than normal.

You may be thinking “what’s so bad about that?” well, the number of yo-yos at RAD went up so high that Lucifer had to ban them.

Belphie and Satan, being the rebels they are, became yo-yo masters specifically to spite Lucifer.

It was sort of like the fidget spinners craze if you were in school for that.

Oh, hi Lord Diavolo. What’s a fidget spinner? It’s this- I should stop talking...

Since no one learned their lesson from the previous incident, Diavolo threw another BBQ.

“Why are we doing this again?” L!MC asked to no one in particular.

“Don’t worry, L!MC. I’ve taken every precaution possible to make sure that what happened last time doesn’t happen again.” Diavolo said and continued in his crusade to cover the entire pathway with sidewalk chalk doodles.

L!MC, Luke, Diavolo, M!MC, Belphie, and A!MC were all busily drawing a wide variety of doodles and drawings with chalk while the other guests milled around nearby. A!MC was in the middle of drawing quite the nice looking Cerberus chibi, while M!MC and Belphie were drawing a lot of stick figures. L!MC and Luke had just finished a wonderful drawing of... an alpaca? Giraffe? Thing...? Hell, even they didn’t know what it was.

Diavolo looked over at M!MC’s stick figure army with a big smile on his face. “So what are all of them doing? It looks like that one’s flying!”

You could practically hear the Addam’s Family theme play as M!MC and Belphie looked at each other and grinned.

“Oh Belphie was just talking about L!MC’s flying lesson fails and I felt that an artist’s rendition was needed.” M!MC explained, he began to point out certain doodles. “Here’s L!MC getting up off the ground, then there’s them actually flying, and this is them falling in the fountain.”

L!MC looked over at the chalk and glared at M!MC. “It’s generous to call that an artist’s rendition. It looks like crap.”

“And what did you draw?” Belphie smirked at the alpaca-giraffe-thing, Luke protectively covered up the drawing (side note, Luke was wearing white and playing with sidewalk chalk, by the end of the day he looked like a walking pride flag).

“None of your business!” Luke huffed.

“And what about that one?” Diavolo seemed completely oblivious to the hostility brewing between the two groups, A!MC was completely used to this and walked away to grab a drink.

“Ah, good eye, Lord Diavolo!” M!MC chirped. “This is a drawing of the time L!MC almost burned down your kitchen.”

Diavolo laughed and gave M!MC a few pats on the head. “Very accurate!”

“You’re so lucky I followed the rules and didn’t bring a water gun...” L!MC growled as they slowly reached for their backpack.

“Yeah... lucky. Real lucky...” M!MC nodded as they tried to casually reach for their bag, Belphie followed suit.

“I’m so glad we all followed the rules.” Luke smiled, his own hand inching towards his bag.

There was a brief moment of stillness before the four of them whipped out their water guns and pointed them at each other.

“This BBQ ain’t big enough for the both of us!” M!MC’s terrible cowboy impression aside, their gun was poised to shoot directly at Luke and L!MC’s alpaca-giraffe-thing.

“Everyone, I know this is a human world tradition but-”

Belphie silenced Diavolo by pointing his water gun at him. “Sh, don’t talk unless you have a water gun as well.”

Deciding not to smite Belphie for treason, Diavolo pulled his own water gun out of his shirt. “Okay, what now?”

“Now, we’re in a standoff...” L!MC glowered at M!MC, the air was practically crackling with hostility...

Until a burst of flames got everyone to whirl around to see A!MC with hairspray and a lighter.

“No water guns! I refuse to go home shivering and covered in grass again!”

Crisis averted. Everyone went to go fail at throwing beanbags into a hole instead of shooting each other.

That was probably for the best... Belphie filled everyone’s water guns with paint.

The Uncle That Does All the Cooking for Family Dinners (Barbatos)

Remember how I said that Barbs liked smol Lucifer? Yea, he likes smol Asmo too. Smol Asmo is willing to admit that they don’t know how to use an oven and is willing to learn.

M!MC is formally banned from being within 50 feet of the kitchen. It’s for the best.

A!MC often tries to get Barbatos to look into the possible futures so they can see if they can avoid messing anything up and A!MC is just so adorable that Barbatos actually thinks about it.

He still says no every single time.

“Could you at least tell me if I have the possibility of doing something embarrassing in the near future?”

“My apologies, A!MC, but no.”

“P-please?”

“The answer remains the same.”

A!MC sighed and went back to helping chop vegetables. Under Barbatos’ tutelage, A!MC’s cooking ability had increased tenfold, they could now make as many burgers as they wanted without worrying about burning down the kitchen.

Pitying the anxious half-demon, Barbatos sighed. “I cannot confirm nor deny a future where your outfit gets ruined.”

A!MC perked up. “H-huh?”

“I cannot confirm nor deny a future where your outfit gets ruined.”

Quickly understanding what Barbatos was trying to do, A!MC quickly nodded and spent the rest of the cooking time carefully taking note of their surroundings.

“Hey! What’re you guys doin’?” M!MC had managed to get in... damn! Everyone must have been putting their best efforts in keeping Solomon away from the kitchen and forgot about M!MC...

“We’re just finishing up, M!MC,” Barbatos had on his ‘oh no...’ smile. “We don’t need any help.”

“Really? You guys sure?”

“Why are you so interested?” A!MC asked.

“Lucifer said that idle hands are the devil’s playthings and that I should go look for something productive to do.” M!MC huffed. “Very ironic phrase.”

“F-fine, I guess you can...” A!MC searched for the least destructive task they could give. “Take the utensils and set the table.”

M!MC gave them a mock salute and grabbed the utensils, as they turned to leave, they knocked a large bowl of chopped fruit over, sending the fruit pieces flying.

Remembering Barbatos’ prediction, A!MC didn’t bother to try and stop the fruit from falling, they only grabbed the nearest big plate they could find and shielded their outfit from harm. The fruit splattered harmlessly against the shield.

“Whoops... my bad. You alright, A!MC?” M!MC asked as A!MC inspected their outfit.

“Y-yes actually...” A!MC turned to Barbatos, who was already getting the cleaning supplies.

“Thank you!” A!MC whispered.

Barbatos smiled and nodded. “You’re very welcome, A!MC.”

Barbatos now has two sorta-children. A!MC and Luke!

M!MC means well, I swear! He just shouldn’t be allowed in a cooking environment!

The Cousin That Your Mom Points at and Goes “Look at Him, He Helps With the Dishes, Be More Like Him.” (Simeon)

Oh man... time for some more embarrassing stories.

“Asmo was the most adorable child, it’s a shame he was such a troublemaker...”

“Really? My dad?”

“What about mine?”

“I think you can guess.”

I cannot comment on Simeon’s help with flying lessons because I refuse to Headcanon what Simeon’s wings look like until canon gives us a GLIMMER. LIKE SERIOUSLY SOLMARE IM CURIOUS-

I have a feeling the children were quite curious as well.

“What do you think his wings look like?” M!MC asked A!MC as the two peered around the corner of one of the hallways in Purgatory Hall.

“I bet they’re super nice. But besides that...” A!MC leaned over and squinted. “Why is Simeon writing with a pen and pencil? He’s writing a book... shouldn’t he use a computer?”

“Bold of you to assume he knows how to use a computer.” M!MC snickered.

A!MC frowned. “Don’t be mean... I’m sure he knows how...”

Simeon picked up his DDD and took a picture of his face, seemingly by accident, with the flash on, causing him to drop the phone in surprise.

“Probably...”

The two surveyed their angel friend like two wildlife documenters, here we see, the Simeon, not in his natural habitat, surrounded by confusing technology...

“Do you think if we scare him his wings might pop out in surprise?” M!MC wondered aloud, A!MC shrugged.

“Maybe... but I don’t think we should bother him...” A!MC whispered. “He looks busy.”

“What are you two doing?”

It took literally every bit of willpower for the two half demons to not scream in absolute terror at the sudden interruption.

Ah... it was just Solomon... in an apron... Solomon... in cooking clothes...

Oh no.

“Spying on Simeon?” Solomon asked.

“N-no...” A!MC giggled nervously. “Just crouching casually in this hallway...”

“...smooth, A!MC.” M!MC rolled their eyes.

“Well, it’s great that you two are here, I made lunch!”

A!MC and M!MC looked at each other in pure horror, they needed to get out of there!

“Uh- um... we’d love to but...” M!MC looked around frantically before just pointing at a random spot behind Solomon. “LOOK! A DISTRACTION!”

A!MC and M!MC ran out of there as fast as their legs could carry them. Finding out if Simeon had wings was not worth being poisoned. Not at all...

Good ol’ Simeon... Mr. Cristopher Peugeot on the other hand- M!MC had some questions for him.

“TSL is literally the most popular book series ever, does that mean you’re completely loaded?”

“Oh, no I’m not, I don’t have any use for human world money in the Celestial Realm. All the profits go to charity.”

“...Dude really?”

“That’s nice of you, Simeon!”

“You didn’t keep any of it..?”

Wait... Who the Hell Are You..? (Solomon)

So A!MC basically has three dads; Fabulous-dad, butler-dad, and wizard-dad!

“So you just... have capes lying around?”

“Yes, would you like a cape?”

“Okay if they don’t take the cape I want it.”

Solomon shows up to RAD with his nails painted different wacky styles every week, courtesy of A!MC.

Though- the unholy combination that is M!MC and Solomon is feared by all.

“Road work ahead?”

“Uh, yeah I sure hope it does.”

Solomon and M!MC’s rampant quoting of vines elicited another glare from Lucifer.

Despite Solomon having literally been alive since the seven rulers of hell were angels, he had kept up with pop culture fairly decently. Decently enough that M!MC had someone that wasn’t Levi to bounce memes off.

“Pff...” M!MC suppressed a laugh at a seemingly normal water bottle advertisement. “Enslaved moisture.”

“I’m not going crazy, right Simeon? You’re hearing this too?” Lucifer tiredly turned to the angel, who shook his head.

“This is just the tip of the iceberg. Solomon quacked at M!MC earlier and they lost their minds laughing about it.” Simeon shrugged, unbothered by the sorcerer and the half demon’s rampant meme-ing behind them.

Lucifer on the other hand, was quite bothered. Incredibly bothered, if you will. “If you two don’t shut up right now I’m going to-”

“Quick! We must abscond!” Solomon turned and heelied away, followed by M!MC. The shoes that Mammon bought to replace the ones lost during the casino incident were apparently heelies as well...

The day was saved when a rock jammed one of Solomon’s wheels and he slammed face first into the concrete. Yikes... that had to hurt.

A!MC had fun glow in the dark bandaids for Solomon to patch up his face. Even though he he could heal himself with magic, he let A!MC do what they wanted because they were just too adorable to say no to.

Asmo has pictures

The Cousin Squad (tm)

(Luke, L!MC, A!MC, and M!MC)

Ah yes, the bab squad. The most adorable group in the Devildom. Surrender your candy immediately or face destruction.

M!MC teases the crap out of Luke, and A!MC tries to stop it, but L!MC is the one who manages to actually make M!MC stop.

Only L!MC gets to pick on the smol angel. GOT IT?!

A!MC and Luke are already baking buddies because of butler-dad so they get along swimmingly.

Poor Luke’s the victim of many of M!MC’s shenanigans.

Luke: Are you sure this is safe, M!MC?

M!MC (about to put mentos into the bottle of coke Luke is holding): No.

L!MC and A!MC get along really well, being honest, everyone loves A!MC.

A!MC makes sure L!MC gets some sleep because they don’t want their cousin picking up on Lucifer’s habit of living off of coffee and coffee alone. L!MC doesn’t get it but they’re very grateful anyway.

M!MC and A!MC were friends from the start. Well... M!MC decided they were friends right from the start and A!MC did not have the ability to fight the power of friendship.

M!MC: You are being befriended. Please do not resist.

Since M!MC is great and amazing like their pop, they took it upon themselves to be the friend that speaks up when A!MC is too nervous to do so.

M!MC and L!MC? Lucifer and Mammon 2 electric boogaloo. Sorta.

L!MC and M!MC bicker all the time but the babs bounce back from their fights way easier.

One minute they’re at each other’s throats and the next they’re showing each other memes.

“There’s no escaping this.”

Lucifer stood between M!MC and the door... their one way ticket to freedom...

“You need to go to the dentist.”

The entire HOL plus the Purgatory Hall crew were getting ready to go visit the dentist to get their teeth cleaned. It was the time of the year that Mammon dreaded most... and his child felt the same way.

“My teeth are fine! Lemme stay home! I’ll hold down the fort with dad!” M!MC smiled and nodded as enthusiastically as they could, but even the most unobservant person couldn’t miss the sweat beading on their forehead.

“Beel.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and before M!MC could do anything Beel had thrown them over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t worry M!MC, the dentist isn’t that scary.” Beel tried to assure them. By the way M!MC was still kicking and screaming, they were not convinced.

“Y-yeah kiddo, suck it up! Don’t be a baby! I’m just gonna take my car there-”

“MAAAAAAMOOOON?!”

“YIKES!”

Lucifer had the important task of keeping a hold of Mammon as the very large group made their way to the dentist’s office.

A devious little idea popped into L!MC’s head as they all sat down in the waiting room. They began to hum a familiar little tune.

“She said be a deeeentiiiist~ a dentist!” L!MC sang to M!MC, who’s attempts to escape increased tenfold after hearing the song.

A!MC began to hum along, not seeming to notice the commotion going on next to them.

“Son be a deeentiiiiiist~ people will pay you for causing them PAIN! She said be a deeentiiiiiist~”

Belphie perked up and smiled deviously as he realized what L!MC was doing, he began to sing along as well. The three were a veritable choir of terror to poor M!MC. Mammon did not understand his child’s terror and was more unnerved by what a great team Belphie and L!MC made.

Satan rolled his eyes and tried to focus on his book, Asmo was absorbed in his magazine, Levi was having a very in depth conversation with the fish in the aquarium, Simeon and Solomon chatted about school, and Luke was stuck watching the train wreck go down.

Thankfully, it was halted by Lucifer. “L!MC, A!MC, Belphegor, stop tormenting M!MC with show tunes.”

“You would have made a good dentist in another life, Lucifer,” Belphie cooed. “You know what they say, the only difference between a dentist and a sadist is that one has newer magazines.”

Asmo grimaced at his magazine. “Is it the sadist? Because I’m reading a magazine from 1843...”

The conversation was interrupted by one of the dental hygienists coming into the waiting room and saying that Mammon was up first. The Avatar of Greed’s final escape attempt was foiled by Satan (not even looking up from his book) clotheslining him.

Thirty minutes later, Mammon emerged from the forbidden dentist room, with the look of trauma in his eyes and eating a lollipop.

One by one, the group went in, A!MC took it upon themselves to try and make the rapidly panicking Luke feel better.

“It won’t be too scary, in the human world dentists are usually very nice.” A!MC smiled encouragingly.

“I-I’m sure that’s true but...” Luke looked around. “We aren’t in the human world...”

Asmo skipped back in and flashed a blinding grin to the group. “Absolutely perfect, no flaws! It’s your turn, A!MC!”

“If you die I get to say I told ya so!” M!MC shouted as A!MC walked into the dentist’s room.

They did not in fact, die because of the dentist. A!MC walked out and gave a thumbs up. “The dentist said they had never seen a kid with such perfect teeth.”

“That’s my baby!” Asmo chirped.

“M!MC, you’re up.” A!MC and Beel had to practically drag the poor kid out of the room and into the dentist area of doom.

“GO BE A DEEEEEENTIIIIIIST!” Belphie and L!MC shouted one last time as the doors shut. Wow, what dickheads...

Mammon probably would have tried to save his poor little bugger, but he was in the middle an impromptu therapy session with Simeon over the scary scraping dentist knife thingie.

Beel was the last to go, and he walked out of the dentist’s room with his face covered in blood, the dentist walked out after him, missing a hand.

“You tasted like toothpaste.” Beel sighed. “Not good.”

“Don’t worry,” The dentist said to Luke, who looked like he was about to pass out. “My hand will grow back in about four to five minutes.”

Luke, still terrified, nodded. L!MC patted him on the shoulder.

“Anyway, almost all of you are fine, but I have to recommend M!MC to the orthodontist.” The dentist flipped through their notepad one-handed. “Their secondary set of fangs are coming out crooked and need to be corrected with braces immediately.”

M!MC sat calmly for a moment, then attempted to sprint out the door. “NO NO NO NO NO!” One of the dental hygienists grabbed them by the back of their shirt and halted their escape.

“Sucks to be you.” L!MC smirked.

“And L!MC needs to fix their cross bite, braces are a strong possibility.”

The colour drained from L!MC’s face as the news dawned upon them. “Pardon, but what exactly are you talking about..?”

“Your top jaw and bottom jaw aren’t properly lined up.” The dentist explained. “It will lead to problems later if it’s not fixed now.”

Lucifer rubbed his temples and sighed. “L!MC, if you try and run away I swear...”

L!MC stiffened and shook their head. “I’m not some coward, I’m not running away. Just... what exactly are you going to do to my mouth?”

The dentist pulled up a few pictures of the braces and explained what would be done. L!MC nodded, and turned to their father with a big smile on their face.

“It won’t be so bad, mind if I go to the bathroom before I get the mold for my teeth made?”

Lucifer nodded and almost audibly sighed in relief. He basked in the glory of having a child that wasn’t afraid of the dentist and faced their fears like an adult-

L!MC sprinted past the dentist’s office, they had busted out of the bathroom window.

“...Beel.”

“Yep.”

A few minutes later, Beel returned with a completely irate L!MC who was screaming their demands to be put down and be allowed to run for the hills. Taking advantage of the distraction, M!MC ran for the door again, only for Belphie to tap them on the forehead.

M!MC collapsed into a snoring heap on the floor.

“FATHER! DON’T MAKE ME DO THIS!” L!MC practically screamed as they tried to wrestle themselves out of Beel’s bear hug.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “L!MC, calm yourself down. It’s just braces.”

“AS EVERYONE HERE AS MY WITNESSES I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS! NEVER!”

The half-demons in need of braces were dragged right back into the dentist’s area... poor fools.

“They’ll be okay... right?” Luke asked.

“Of course they will be. It’s just braces.” Simeon patted Luke on the head. “They’ll both be fine.”

The scream that came from down the hall right after Simeon said that did not reassure anyone.

“Hey,” Mammon piped up. “How much do braces cost?”

“From what I know about dental procedures,” Satan rubbed his chin. “A few thousand Grimm.”

“Mammon if you try and run for that door I will cut your credit card into a thousand pieces.” Lucifer growled.

Overall, it was a fairly average trip to the dentist. 0/10 would not recommend. A few weeks later L!MC and M!MC were fitted with their mouth prisons- I mean braces, and the two cousins bonded over their horrific mouth pain...

Seriously- braces suck.

——————————————

So! Those are the headcanons! Four and a half whole parts... phew... To all the people who enjoyed this series, thank you so so much for reading! You guys have been so super nice!

Fret not, I plan on writing more for this universe! From what I know about season 2 of Obey Me things will get... interesting. Stay tuned for more! Or don’t, I can’t force you.

...or can I?

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me! headcanons #obey me! shall we date?#Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Mammon #Obey me MC #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #Obey me Luke #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Fic #Lucifer’s Kid

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