#girl stood her ground against her own family in canon so she has to be stubborn at least | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strwbrrybxn · 2 years

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Hi! I saw that your requests are open so I decided to hop in and see if you’d be willing to write a Shikamaru one shot that takes place during Pein’s attack on the leaf in shippuden? The reader confesses her feelings for him right before she dies, and then she gets resurrected along with everyone else and has to face the consequences of what she said?

hi hi! this was actually a lot of fun to write. I know it took like 80,000 years to finish but I hope you like it and it’s what you imagined it to be. <3

All My Failings Exposed ; word count: 1173

↪ pairing: shikamaru nara × fem!reader

↪ warnings(s): death, blood, canon typical violence, naruto shippuden spoilers, pein attacks, fourth shinobi war, no happy ending (i’m sorry), reanimation jutsu, third person pov

↪ genre: mutual pining, angst, hurt/comfort

↪ au: naruto canonverse

characters: shikamaru nara, reader, choji akimichi, shikaku nara, ino yamanaka, akatsuki members

“I have loved you for far too long to stay quiet about it,” She whispered, blood spilling from her lips. Shikamaru’s hand shook from the sheer force of his grip around hers, but she didn’t flinch. She just smiled, her eyes clouded as the last breath from her lungs spoke those three words to him. “Please, don’t cry.”

Shikamaru’s funeral clothes gathered the dust from his previous kicks to the ground. He was dragging his feet; everyone could hear the sandals scrape underneath him. Choji had turned around concerned every few seconds. How do you comfort someone through this? It’s almost as bad as when they lost Asuma-sensei; but that was their sensei, and this was – this was the love of his life.

The Nara scoffed as he trailed behind his teammates. He promised he’d come to the funeral, promised he’d look at her picture and keep the tears at bay for the moment, but she promised to live, promised not to keep secrets so what’s another broken promise between the two of them.

He broke off from the group, walking straight into the Nara forest and stood in front of the grave, listening to Hidan’s muffled voice shouting from underneath the rubble.

“You fucking bastards,” he spit. “Always coming here and ruining the good things in my life.” He knew the Akatsuki member couldn’t hear him – he was six feet under and buried under rocks and dirt, but he still continued; still berated him for his cruel teammates. “First, you take my sensei from me and now… now, her?!”

Shikamaru’s vision blurred as he stared at the ground, fists clenching and unclenching as his nostrils flared.

“Please, don’t cry.”

How could the heir not cry? Shikamaru had loved her from the moment she walked into his class at the academy. He knew he felt something for her when he wouldn’t look at girls the way he would look at her; when he didn’t want to be put on a team with someone who wasn’t her and Choji. He didn’t want to fight alongside someone else, and now he had to. He had to learn how to live without her – learn how to treat his own wounds, learn how to live without the sounds of worried and shaky voice, like when he went off to fight Hidan by himself.

Troublesome woman. You promised not to leave me. We made a promise.

“Skipping out on the funeral again?” He heard the voice from behind him.

“Yeah.”

“Would she want that?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Shikaku leaned against the tree behind his son, arms crossed. “Shikamaru–”

“Dad, please. Don’t come to me with the ‘I’ll pick up your pieces,’ again. You can’t pick these up this time.” Shikamaru’s voice cracked, his legs jelly as he grabbed for the tree and his father was quick to put an arm around his waist. Shika tried to shove at his father, tried to push him away as he broke down. His punches grew weaker as his dad’s grip grew tighter.

“I know, son. I know. Let it out.” His wails increased in volume, echoing throughout the forest. “I’ve got you.”

Days molded together, and Shikamaru began to find comfort in her clan’s compound. Her family would often let him stay for as long as he needed, knowing grieving together was better than being alone. But they also gave him the space he needed, letting him burrow himself in the scent of her room, clothes, anything he could get his hands on.

“I miss you,” Shikamaru whispered into the tear stained pillow placed on her bed. Her scent was scarce, fading, and Shikamaru was desperate for the memory of her.

It wasn’t very long before the start of the Fourth Shinobi World War and it wasn’t long before some of the strongest shinobi were resurrected. The four Hokages, the armies of reanimations. Shikamaru prayed she wasn’t part of it; prayed she was giving the peaceful rest she deserves, but when he laid his eyes on those golden curls – when he saw her in one piece — he knew his prayers were ignored once again. She stood in front of him, eyes wide and teary. Shikamaru mirrored her expression, throat dry. His teammates stood not too far behind, bodies frozen as they watched the interaction between the two of them.

“Shi-Shika–” His chest tightened. He missed her so much; missed her voice, missed the way she said his name, but he was angry. He was angry at her for leaving, angry at her for not keeping her promises, angry at her for the secrets; angry because she failed him. But the fighting had begun before he could even confront her.

Why she chose to go in such a horrific way, no one knew. She could have waited for Sakura, she could have survived if she just let Shikamaru move her out of the way. She didn’t have to die that way, and now here she is, able to answer his questions, but no one will let him ask. Every time he gets close enough, someone throws a kunai between them and the fighting continues.

“Why did you leave me?” Shikamaru finally shouted, frustrated and angry with the continuous battles.

“I had no choice.”

“You had every choice to live.”

“You were going to die!”

“I would have survived. I would have continued to fight to live. Why didn't you?” She frowned, throwing a kunai in her enemy’s direction before fully facing Shikamaru.

“Do you really want to have this argument right here?”

“Yes! Because when am I going to get the chance to ask the dead girl, whom I loved, about what happened?” The anger in her chest was replaced with anxiety; with guilt and shame. She died protecting Shikamaru; she was torn apart by Pain after he was done with Kakashi. She died protecting the village. “Do you know how much of a drag my life has been since you left?”

“Shika–”

“No, you don’t, because you died.” Four, five, six– there’s twelve kunai flying towards us. She didn’t think – much life before. She pushed herself in front of Shikamaru, four of the twelve kunai hitting various spots on her body.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, collapsing to her knees. The Nara’s eyes widened and his hands stretched out shakily to catch her.

“No. No, no, no. This isn’t– this isn’t happening again.” Shikamaru’s hand ran along the slope of her spine, the tears hitting the ground. “Not again. You can’t leave me again.”

“I’m not leaving you, Maru,” she whispered, blood spilling down her chin. “As long as you have our memories, I’m not gone.”

“But you’re not here. Physically. You’re not in my arms. You’re not letting me take you on dates and telling you I love you. You’re not–”

“I know,” she coughed out, squeezing his hand tighter. “Maybe in another life where we don’t have to live with our shortcomings.”

She turned her head, pale lips pressing to his palm. Her eyes glossed over between the kiss was over.

©️ ALLYALLYGATOR 2022

#answered #🍓 writes #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara #angst without a happy ending #naruto shippuden spoilers #fourth shinobi war spoilers

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huneykipp · 2 years

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Sunset Shimmer Redesign!

Sunset Shimmer is a kirin in my redesign! I wanted more diversity within the mane 7, and so I went with a kirin!

🌇

Sunset's family moved to Sire's Hollow when she was just a filly. Her father left a little after the move, no one has seen him since. Sunset has one younger sibling, Sunburst. The two spent most of their time together trying to outwit each other with new spells. Sunset Shimmer always had a knack for magic and strived to be the most knowledgeable about magic in her town. After she left for Canterlot, Sunburst picked up where they had left off in their studies and continued to be the bookworm that he is.

🌇

When she found out about Celestia's Academy for Gifted Unicorns, she wanted nothing more than to study under Celestia. For her entrance exam, Sunset had to hatch a phoenix egg, paralleling how Twilight had to hatch a dragon egg. And much like Twilight, Sunset was allowed to keep the legendary bird, naming her Philomena. Celestia saw potential in Sunset and took her under her wing. She had never met a kirin before and was definitely intrigued. Kirin magic was not researched, and so Celestia took this apprenticeship as an opportunity to get to know Sunset and kirin magic.

Sunset befriended Twilight throughout her time at the academy and they became friendly rivals. Despite how antisocial Twilight can be, Sunset was always at her side and they were rarely seen apart. That is, until Sunset realized how powerful Twilight was.

🌇

This is where my headcanons definitely steer from canon. I don't consider the Equestria Girls movies to be canon. For my Sunset, the portal to the human dimension has never existed and will not exist.

Sunset Shimmer's downfall began when she realized how powerful her best friend was. Twilight's power made sense of Shimmer insecure with her own and that led her to search for more ways to gain more magical power. Sunset went against Celestia's rules about the library and snuck in late one night to explore the restricted section beneath the castle. She found a spell that could harness her emotions to bring her more power, but at the time, her emotions were anger and jealousy. Had her emotions been different at the time of finding the spell, the outcome could have been much different.

This spell caused Sunset Shimmer to shift into her nirik form and accidentally set a sectiom of the library ablaze. This led Celestia to finding her and attempting to capture her for trespassing and damaging the library. Celestia's guard soon arrived to attempt to capture her, but were not successful. There was a momentary showdown between Celestia and Sunset, but Sunset's magic became increasingly difficult for Celestia to handle. Celestia was able to stop her for a moment to try and understand what was going on, but Sunset got even more upset over the fact that her mentor was seeing her in such a state. Sunset fled Canterlot and retreated to the Peaks of Peril.

She returned to Canterlot a few years afterwards and was treated as a threat to Equestria by Celestia and Luna. Sunset never meant to hurt anyone all those years ago, but she let her emotions get the best of her and the dark magic consumed her. She tried to explain this to the queens, but Celestia insisted that Sunset's use of dark magic is enough to deserve her a place in the Canterlot Gardens. Celestia was furious with Sunset for disobeying a very important rule. She was going to turn Sunset to stone for her crime of weilding dark magic.

Twilight was in the castle at the time, on their way to a meeting with the queens. They entered the throne room to find Celestia preparing a magical attack and Sunset on the ground, pleading for forgiveness. Luna was standing behind Celestia, looking away in shame. Twilight ran to Sunset's side and deflected the blast, sending it crashing into the wall behind the queens. The queens stood in utter awe and Sunset shakily stood next to Twilight. Although the kirin was much larger than her pony friend, she felt so much weaker than her. Twilight stood in front of Sunset and insisted that the situation was unlike anything she had ever seen out of Celestia.

I haven't really thought about it much past that point, but let's just say Twilight helped Sunset become more comfortable with herself and taught her about how powerful the magic of friendship is. Sunset ends up moving into the Golden Oak Library with Twilight and helps Twilight with her research about magic. Sunset still has a piece of the dark magic with her, but Twilight does what she can to keep Sunset's head high. Oh yeah, and they're dating BAHAHDH

🌇

Sunset is bisexual and demiromantic. She uses she/her pronouns.

#sunsetshimmer #sunsetshimmerheadcanons #mlp #mlpheadcanons #twiset #mlptwiset #mylittlepony

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horizon-verizon · 28 minutes

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I never cared about Alicent and her children in the slightest but Larys Strong has always been an enigma to me. You never really know who he’s actually working for, what backroom deals he might have going, what he really knows and what he really wants. His belief in the cause or lack thereof is never entirely clear. He also was likely one who leaked major information about the Greens’ operations to the Blacks, or if he wasn’t then he certainly had the skills and resources to find out who it was and put a stop to it but chose not to.

Larys did what Varys didn’t. That is to say, Larys successfully smuggled not one but two Targaryen children out of King’s Landing while the city was under imminent attack from outside forces, in this case Rhaenyra and her dragons. The excuses about Varys not being “able” to save Rhaenys, just Aegon, kind of go into the crapper when you read that Larys smuggled out both Jaehaera and Maelor, not even having to bother with swaps/doubles. This historical anecdote did a lot to solidify my suspicion that there was no baby swap at all and Aegon is really dead, because if Larys could get Jaehaera and Maelor out, Varys, if he’s all he’s cracked up to be, should have been able to do the same with both Aegon and Rhaenys. So either Varys didn’t do it, or he was unable to do it, and if he was unable to do it, then Larys wins that round.

Larys also smuggled out Aegon II and hid him on Dragonstone, Rhaenyra’s own seat. Rhaenyra had no idea he was there until she went back to Dragonstone and found he’d taken it over. That’s no mean feat either, and Larys’ risk paid off. He became the only sane man left by the end of the Dance, frequently having to remind Aegon II and Alicent that they needed Corlys Velaryon and his House on their side, and they couldn’t afford to petulantly execute Corlys every time he criticised them when the Greens needed every ally they could get against enemies they couldn’t negotiate with like Cregan Stark. He later helped Corlys Velaryon poison Aegon II when he wouldn’t surrender, either that or stood by while it happened, but had the stones to accept execution over exile to the Night’s Watch, merely asking that Cregan Stark cut off his clubfoot after his execution, so it wouldn’t impede him in the afterlife, and taking all his secrets with him. Despite how Aegon II and his family turned out, I think it’s realistic to say that without Larys, the Greens would have lost the war.

HOTD turning such an opaque and inscrutable character into “creepy pervert with a clubfoot jerks off to the queen’s feet” is a massive downgrade. There is no obvious rationale to include it on the show other than ableism, shock value and degradation. There’s no justification for it on canonical grounds. They had already overplayed the creepiness earlier on with Larys randomly and inappropriately leering at Alicent; the foot thing shot the “what the fuck?” aspect to the moon. One of the annoying things about Littlefinger on GOT was that he was so obviously creepy in a way he’d never get away with in the books. Larys is like that, on steroids.

Agreed. I personally think that he leaned green but was open to going black if it seemed to serve him.

As for the Varys comparison, that's interesting and I haven't pondered over this before. I have to see if Varys ever gave a real reason for why he somehow couldn't get Rhaenys out. When I 1st read it, I remember feeling that he wasn't being totally honest and that she wasn't taken bc she was a girl.

#asoiaf asks to me #larys strong #larys strong's characterization #fire and blood characters #varys #varys' characterization #agot characterization #character comparison #the greens' characterization #hotd critical #hotd writing

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quindolyn · 3 years

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heyyyyy, can you do harry imagine where when they fight with the death eaters fem reader rescues sirius from bellatrix because she know he is the only relative harry has and gets hurt, so in the hospital harry visits her and thanks her and she tells him that she loves her? like lots of fluff😻

To Be Lovable || Harry Potter

Word Count: 4069

A/N: Hey love, I hope you enjoy this! It was a lot of fun to write.

Warnings: mentions of a broken bone, let’s just pretend that Sirius’ name has already been cleared, obviously not canon, I believe that that is it.

Masterlist

Life had fucked Harry Potter over, that was for sure. It basically said “fuck you” and gave him the responsibility of saving muggle and wizardkind alike. Robbed him of a family, of a childhood, of any semblance of the confidence he so desperately needed.

But life always outs. Life will always find a way to straighten itself out, even the scales. Life had given Harry Sirius Black, so it was doing a pretty good job so far. Just as life had fucked Harry Potter, it’d fucked Sirius Black too.

When life gave them each other it slowly started mending its wrong doings with Sirius’ false imprisonment, Harry’s lack of a father figure, their shared lack of affection of any sort. In Harry Sirius had found a friend, a son and in Sirius, Harry had found a father, someone to care.

You had spent the last five years watching Harry suffer trial after trial all while you suffered a trial of your own, the trial of loving him from afar. As much as you adored Harry, and you really did, how could you not? From the blush that painted his cheeks at the slightest compliment, to the way his glasses sat crooked on his nose, to the messy black mop of hair that sat upon his head the boy was completely and utterly loveable. But it was because of the love you harbored for the boy that you refused to confess your feelings to him, he had more than enough on his plate. The Boy Who Lived most definitely had better things to do with his time than deal with the feelings of a hormonal teenager. Perhaps that was life’s way of fucking with you, making you love a boy who didn’t have it within him to love you back.

Life didn’t get to fuck with Harry Potter anymore, he’d done more than his fair share of suffering, of grieving, he’d more than served a punishment he’d never earned. That’s all you could think about as you saw Bellatrix point her wand at Sirius’ form, laughing maniacally as a jet of green light shot from the tip of her wand, aimed directly at Sirius.

Head thrown back in laughter, eyes closed, it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to dodge the curse leaving you with no other option but to full on tackle him. You threw your body at him, aiming to take him down at the knees but failing rather miserably instead wrapping your arms around his chest and instead of knocking him to the ground, making him stumble backward.

Regardless, on the floor, or a few inches to the right, you still managed to knock him out of the curse’s path. Sirius hadn’t realized who was on top of him or that their intentions were good rather than evil, in the heat of the moment, with curses flying to and fro you were flung from his body as he knocked you onto the floor.

As you landed on your side, your arm trapped beneath you, you heard the distinct, sickening snap of what couldn't have been anything other than bone. The sound rang through the din in the room, impossible to miss but yet no one seemed to offer you so much as a glance, anyone except Sirius that was.

“Shit” He swore, bending down to access the damage, gently turning you on to your back so that he could get a better look at your arm, “I’m so sorry (Y/N).”

“It’s fine Sirius,” You slurred, not daring to look at your arm, the pain you were feeling was enough, you were more than fine without visuals to match. Having never broken a bone before you were not ready for the immense pain that festered in your arm, sharp and stabbing it felt like every single nerve in your arm was being bludgeoned over and over again, mercy be damned.

“You’re slurring your words (Y/N),” Sirius scolded, not angry at you but rather at himself, “You’re not okay and it’s not fine. Now did you hit your head too?”

You thought for a moment, had you hit your head?

Yes, you remembered the thump of your skull against the hard stone of the room hidden deep within the Department of Mysteries, and the more you thought about it, the more clearly you could feel that the dull thrum of pain was still present where the initial impact had occurred.

“Y-yeah,” You stuttered out, your vision blurring as the man kneeling above you started to fade, “I think so, it hurts.” Black spots began to dance through your vision, the cacophony of noise in the room became a low buzz as the sound of your blood rushing through your veins overwhelmed you. It became the only thing you could hear.

You heard the faint noise of Sirius letting out a slew of curses, not all of which seemed to be in English as his hands moved to your scalp, gently pressing down until a sharp pain coursed through you.

“Fuck,” Someone, swore, him or you, you weren’t sure. It was very possible it had been either of you as Sirius pulled his hand away from your head and back into your visage. His middle three fingers were soaked in blood, your blood. Crimson and dripping from his digits the metallic scent flooded your nostrils making you work not to gag as you found the stench to be truly nauseating.

He spoke again, or at least you thought he did as you could faintly make out the whisper of his voice and the moving of his lips.

Faintly you wondered if you heard the familiar voice of a certain bespectacled boy, frantic as he approached you, and the glimpse of dark, messy hair you caught almost convinced you of such. But as more and more blackness took over your vision it became harder and harder to tell until you were completely swallowed, and your eyes blinked closed into a dark, dreamless sleep.

“She’s not exactly asleep,” Someone was talking.

“Well she sure as hell isn’t awake,” There was someone in the room.

“If you’d let me finish Mr. Weasley-”

“Oh shut up,” This voice was new, deeper than either of the previous ones, its posh accent distinctly different than the other two, “No need to condescend the boy just tell us if (Y/N)’s going to be alright. Harry’s going to want to know when he finishes his business with Dumbledore.”

Harry? Was Harry alright? Stupid question, if precedent was anything to go on, he probably wasn’t.

At the mention of his name you felt a wave of energy surge through you, it was only with that energy you were able to blink your eyes open. They desperately wanted to close as the harsh white light of the room flooded your irises but you refused to let them, instead squinting so that the light entering your vision was limited.

“As I was saying,” The first voice continued, “She’s in a medically induced coma, this isn’t a restful sleep this is because she can’t afford to be conscious right now and when she wakes up she’s going to be in a whole world of pain and having the six of you here isn’t going to help her.”

No one seemed to notice your new state of consciousness as they continued their conversation, voices tense with worry as they batted back and forth in a game of verbal racketball, a question met by an answer which was countered by another question.

You were too out of it to take offense to their neglect as you felt that surge of energy start to slip away from you, like sand through your fingertips. Grasping onto the last whispers of it before it drifted away from you entirely you cleared your throat, the sound minuscule but apparently just loud enough to catch the attention of a certain red headed girl.

“(Y/N),” This voice was unmistakable Ginny. You turned your head to face the source of her voice, met by the blurry outline of unmistakable Weasley red, they really should just patent it at this point, hair surrounding a pale face. “(Y/N) you’re awake!” She lunged towards you gripping your arm in her hand, albeit a little painfully, but all pain, and sound, and sight seemed fuzzy, like remembering a dream from the night prior.

At Ginny’s words, all heads in the room snapped to your form where you laid in the hospital bed, looking as though you’d seen better days. Which granted, you had.

It took a second for them all to register the meaning behind what Ginny had announced, but as soon as they did they went into a flurry, a healer rushing to take your vitals, moving her wand up and down your body, muttering incantations under her breath. Molly was at your side, gazing at you with brown eyes swimming with worry as she ran a hand down the side of your face which was still lolled to the side. Two identical boys stood at the foot of your bed while two girls, the previously spoken of redhead and her curly haired friend stood back, giving the Healers space to move about.

Sirius stood over Molly’s shoulder, his eyes drowning in guilt as he failed to return your gaze.

“Where am I?” Godric you sounded awful, and it felt like there was gravel in your throat, irritating you even as you merely swallowed.

“St. Mungo’s darling,” Molly answered promptly, trying and failing to suppress a sniffle, “You were hurt at the Department of Mysteries.”

You remembered, oh you undoubtedly remembered. The ache in your arm and head was more than enough to remind you of what had occurred, it was reinforced by the dark haired man looming in the corner refusing to meet your eyes.

After a good deal of fussing both by the Healers and Molly people finally started to stream out of your room, first Ginny and Hermione, followed by the twins and finally the Healers and Molly.

That left just you and Sirius, who still refused to meet your eyes, in the small room which smelt of dittany and blood.

It was silent for a minute, then two, before you simply couldn’t take it anymore, if he wasn’t going to say something you would, “S’not your fault Sirius,” Your voice was still rather hoarse but it had improved significantly after downing the three cups of water than had been placed in front of you.

“You were just trying to save me, you did save me and now you’re hurt.” His head which had previously been hung raised to finally meet your eyes, the shame he carried in his eyes was palpable, remorse etched into his face. A face which reflected every year he’d lived on this planet and then some.

“M’gonna be fine Sirius, you didn’t know it was me I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” You shook your head lightly to refocus your eyes but that just amplified the pain already pounding in your skull.

Reluctantly Sirius trudged towards you before pulling a chair up to your bed and eventually resting himself in it, not looking at your face but rather at the foot of the bed. “Why’d you do it (Y/N)? Why’d you go to all that trouble to save an old man like me?” There was none of his usual humor in his voice, only a sorrowful curiosity.

“You’re all he has left Sirius,” This drew his attention, craning his neck to look at you, his eyes, accompanied by his continued silence urged you on, “You can’t die on him because then he’ll have no one.”

For the first time since you’d tackled him in the Department on Mysteries however long ago, Sirius Black smiled. Unlike his usual smirks or grins, the one that graced his face was gentle, and perhaps a bit hopeful as well.

“Not so sure about that love,” He let out a laugh so light it was barely a laugh, more like a puff of air, “He’d still have you, wouldn’t he?”

You willed yourself not to give away your true feelings for Harry to his godfather of all people, but the nervous grin that adorned your face was a dead give away to his already good guess.

“He cares about you (Y/N),” Sirius was merciful, sparing you from verbalizing the feelings that the both of you now acknowledged existed, “We had to drag him away from you at the Department of Mysteries.”

“That was Harry?” You perked up, “I didn’t just imagine him?”

“Nope,” He replied, popping his p, “He almost punched Moony when tried to drag him away from you.”

Not knowing how to respond to that you simply didn’t.

“He had to meet with Dumbledore to discuss something, that’s why he wasn’t here when you woke up,” Sirius explained.

“Oh, its okay, I’m sure he has much better things to do than come visit-”

You were cut off mid sentence by the sound of feet thumping down the hallway outside your room. Both you and Sirius turned your heads to watch someone fly by the cracked door of the room, his voice booming as he called out for you, then Ron, then Hermione.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to be a little quieter,” The stern but kind voice drifted into the room from the hallway.

“Where is she?” Yup, that has Harry. The sound of his voice was ingrained in your head and had been for countless years now.

You and Sirius stayed silent, still watching the door, listening to the tense conversation taking place between Harry and the St. Mungo’s staff member before you heard Hermione’s voice cut in, trying to calm the two men down.

“Well it sounds like he’s going to be in here soon,” Sirius said, standing up from his chair, gazing down at you.

“It does,” You agreed.

“I will never be able to thank you enough (Y/N), not only for saving my life today but for being such a good friend to Harry, giving him the love that he deserves.” Tears brimmed at the raven haired man’s eyes as he laid his palm atop your hand.

“Of course Sirius,” Your voice cracked mid sentence as you too were gulping down tears.

Leaning down Sirius pressed a fatherly kiss to the crown of your head just as Harry burst through the door.

“Speak of the devil,” The older chuckled, pulling back to his full height as Harry bounded towards you, completely ignoring the presence of his godfather.

“(Y/N)!” His long legs got him to you in no time at all, when he reached you his eyes snagged on your broken arm before meeting your own.

Sirius sent you a silent wink as he slipped from the room, you hadn’t noticed him even make his way towards the door. He made sure to shut the door tightly behind him so that you and Harry would be granted some privacy.

“Hi Harry,” You let out a watery chuckle as you took in his appearance, he looked like he’d gotten caught in a wind tunnel with his hair all messy, and the fabric of his tight fitting t-shirt clinging to his chest.

“Don’t laugh,” He frowned down at you as he settled himself next to you on the bed, “You might hurt your lung or something.”

You smiled at his clueless, over protective behavior, “S’not my lungs that are hurt H, just my arm and my head.”

“There’s nothing just about it,” He countered, “You’d be fine without your arm but you need your head (Y/N/N), can’t go walking around without it.”

You opened your mouth to say something but you didn’t get the chance before he started talking again, pushing himself off up the flimsy mattress to pace next to your bed, “What the hell were you thinking jumping on Sirius like that?”

You rolled your eyes at his outburst, “Bellatrix had cast the Killing Curse at him, Harry, he was going to die if I didn’t do something!” Your voice raised against your will as you got defensive, you may have loved Harry but that didn’t stop you from getting aggravated with him when he was being an idiot. Take now for example.

“You could’ve died (Y/N)! Don’t you understand that? You could’ve died and I-”

“But I didn’t Harry! I didn’t die and I’m fine now.”

“The hell you are! You’re lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo’s with a broken arm and a concussion, if that's your definition of fine then I’d hate to see what not fine is!”

“I’m a big girl Potter, I can take care of myself,” You argued, pushing yourself up on the bed so that you were sitting upright, independent of your pillows. How was he being so daft? You’d saved the closest person he had to real family and now here he was, completely railing on you.

He was so caught up in his own head, continuing to pace up and down the length of the room that he didn’t seem to notice when you started swaying, no doubt because you had lifted yourself up too quickly and your head should’ve been resting on your pillow.

“You may be a big girl (Y/N), but clearly you shouldn’t be left to your own devices because what would possess someone to do something so idiotic?”

You tried to swallow the anger you felt bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to explode in an eruption of words you weren’t quite ready to say out loud. But as he went on and on you found it harder and harder to swallow your feelings until they inevitably bubbled over.

“You idiot,” You cut him off, too fed up with him to listen to what he had to say, “I wasn’t going to let Sirius die because he’s the only family you have Harry! You love him and it would kill me to see him ripped from you, just like so many other good things have been ripped from you, because…”

You went silent, all of a sudden your voice seemed very loud in the sterile room and you realized it’s because he finally shut up.

“Because why?” He asked turning so that he was facing you, “Because why?”

“Because I-” You felt a rush of heat flooded your face and quickly averted your gaze from the boy, focusing instead on the clock hung on the wall opposite your bed.

You were quiet for a moment, hoping he would show you mercy and continue on with his ranting but he didn’t. Harry never did stand down from a fight, especially not one that he could win.

Coming to terms with the fact that the only way this was ending was with a confession from you, you gulped. And with your saliva you swallowed your pride, turning back to face the boy who still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Because I love you, okay?” You admitted to him, letting your vision glaze over so you wouldn’t have to see the eventual look of guilt wash over his features before he gently turned you down, apologizing, calling you beautiful, telling you how you deserved someone better. Even though there was no one better than him.

You thought he looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at you, unblinking.

Eventually, after what could’ve been a couple of seconds or could’ve been a couple of hours, he spoke, “Y-you love me?” He sounded incredulous like he didn’t really believe you.

And that’s when it hit you, he didn’t really believe you.

As a wave of indescribable sorrow washed over you, at the notion that the beautiful boy in front of you really had no clue just how beautiful he was, you maneuvered yourself so that you could stand up, throwing one leg over the edge of the bed, and then the other.

Pushing yourself up into an upright position you were immediately swaying, ready to collapse onto the floor, and Harry must’ve observed that as he came back to his senses as he looped his arms under yours, pulling you into his toned chest, hard from countless hours of Quidditch practice.

“What do you think you’re doing (Y/N/N)?” His voice was softer now, meant for only you to hear.

“Was gonna show you how much I love you,” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt as you abandoned all of your inhibitions, you needed to tell him how you felt, “You clearly don’t believe me when I tell you and that’s ridiculous Haz because you’re lovely and wonderful and you light up my day every time I see you. I can’t imagine my life without you,” You paused your ramble, not noticing the brilliant shade of vermillion his face had turned.

“No, I can imagine it without you Harry and it’s horrible, it’s not a life worth living.”

“Don’t say that (Y/N),” He cut you off, a frown gracing his enviably red lips.

“Would you let me finish Potter?” You sniped playfully, “I love you, Harry, I’ve loved you since we were first years and it kills me that you don’t see how lovable you are. Because you are lovable Harry,” You pulled back a bit to rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him, “You are completely lovable, and that’s why I put myself in harm’s way today, because if it meant saving someone you love, then it is worth it. It will always be worth it.”

You watched as tears spilled down his cheeks, but you could tell by the smile pulling at his wobbling lips that they were happy tears, “Y-you love me?”

How your heart could break at three simple words baffled you but it did, “I love you, Harry, I have loved you and I will always love you.”

A smile overtaking his entire face split it in half, a toothy grin you’d like to see on him more often, “I-”

“You don’t have to say it back H, the fact you’re not turning me down right now is more than enough. You don’t have to say it back, we can take it slow,” You cut him off, not wanting to rush him.

“I want to though, I want to say it back.” He insisted, sounding like an eager puppy.

“Really?” You couldn’t suppress the optimistic lilt to your voice.

He nodded surely, still grinning down at you. “I love you (Y/N).”

You had to stop yourself from crying, or screaming, or jumping in the air, or some combination of all three, but that’s all you wanted to do. You wanted to scream and jump and cry but you preferred being in Harry’s arms much more.

“May I kiss you?” Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper you could barely hear.

“Yes please,” You giggled, standing up on your tippy toes as he leaned down to capture your lips in his.

You poured all the passion of the past five years into that kiss, all of the stolen glances at him, all of the nights spent sobbing, thinking that he could never love you back. All of the sacrifices, all of the hugs, and the smiles you shared. They were all poured into the kiss and they all meant so much more now because being part of something so beautiful could only make those memories better.

Harry wrapped his arms around your back, pressing your body to his while being careful to mind your hurt arm. You dug the fingers on the hand of your healthy arm in his thick hair, using it as an anchor to pull yourself closer to him.

You pulled away first, taking big gulps of air in an attempt to refill your empty lungs.

“You love me,” Harry stated simply, staring down at you adoringly.

“I love you,” You agreed with a small nod of your head.

“I can’t believe you actually love me.” He smiled again, this grin even goofier than the last, making his emerald eyes shine.

You smiled at the look of childlike happiness that adorned his face, “And I can’t believe it took me this long to tell you.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst

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another-fantasy-world · 3 years

Text

Pulled

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Title: Pulled

Pairings: (Romantic) Wanda Maximoff x Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Reader, (Familial) Natasha Romanoff x Reader, (Familial) Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The Avengers, Earth's chosen heroes. You thought the name was absurd, and you knew that being around them is trouble, especially since the son of Odin himself is working with them. But of course, no matter how much you tried to pull away, no matter the consequences of you being a demon, they still insist on pulling you back, among all of them, she insists the most.

Warnings: Canon Violence. Demons. Mentions of Hell

Additional Tags: Wanda being the best girlfriend for a demon. Natasha being a soft mom. Tony being the annoying brother. Avengers being the lovable idiots that they are. Pietro being alive is my shit.

Reader Pronouns: She/They

Word Count: 3276 words

GIF isn’t mine but boy do I adore it. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you and Enjoy Reading! Requests are open, see pinned post for more info

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Grief. Pain. Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Fear. Six of the most common negative emotions one human can have, and somehow, this two human children had them all. You silently watched as this human girl and her twin brother hide under the bed to protect themselves from the bomb just 3 feet from them. You can sense both their fears, it's what led you to them in the first place. The intense fear and emotional pain in their souls was intoxicating, it makes you want to devour it and take their souls straight to hell. But for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to enhance it, to give them more pain, just for your own sake.

So even as your hunger clawed and begged to be satisfied, you ignored it, looking for something to comfort the trembling twins. Out the corner of your eye, you saw the damaged TV, making quick work of fixing it with your magic, turning it on, only to find the girl's glowing red eyes trained at your naturally red eyes. Your eyes widened as you realized she could see you. You then turned your attention to the other twin, his child-like eyes staring right at your non-existent soul.

“And you can see me. Great.” You voiced out, sighing. You didn't even know why your glamour didn't work on these two brats.

“Yes.” They answered timidly, Heavy Sokovian accents ringing throughout the air.

“Are you scared?” You ask them, tucking your wings in as to not scare them further more, much to your displeasure. You didn't really know why you're acting like this.

“No.” You smiled at their response, they were lying of course, but it was adorable nonetheless.

You debated on what to do next, you could erase their memories of you but quickly realized that you couldn't considering this human child is a witch. You sighed, you rarely interfere with human foolishness, the outcomes of said foolishness make up for your daily meal, so you leave them be, but for some reason you were being pulled to do the opposite.

“This is going to be the last time you see me.” You state coldly, refusing to get attached.

You maneuver your magic to levitate the bed they were currently hiding under, gray wisps of magic enveloping the bomb to keep them from detonating, you watch as the human girl seems fascinated with what she sees despite the life-threatening situation they are in right now. The human boy dragging his sister towards you as you envelop them in your magic as well, protecting them for what's about to come.

“Hold on.” You say, their arms wrapping around yours as you extend your wings and fly upwards, the air harmless to the children in your arms when it should have killed them based on your speed alone. You looked down at them, the human girl buried her face into you as fear mixed with relief pulsed out of her. The human boy on the other hand, looked ecstatic with the speed you are going at.

'Children' You thought, chuckling lightly.

You both dropped them off at the local Sokovian orphanage, prompting to leave when the human girl tugged on your black wings making you look back.

“Yes?” You asked

“Stay” She says, smiling. You smiled back, despite seeing how the events of today slowly dawned on both of them, pain filling both of their eyes.

You just shook your head sadly, a frown quickly settling at your face, realizing you let your guard down, before flying away, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

You never thought you would see them again years later, all grown up. You were on an errand appointed to you by your brother when you stumbled upon Sokovia. The place swarmed with ridiculous looking military. Your eyes widening as you see them displaying their powers fighting against the Avengers. You smiled softly and rolled your eyes when you saw that the human boy now had super speed and the human girl had her witchy tendencies, beautiful red wisps of magic floating through the air, as a human man, named Captain America, tumbled down the stairs.

“We have another enhanced. Female. Do not engage.” You frowned at that, they're treating her like a threat, and that didn't place right with you. Prompting to leave this problem to future you, you left

“Enhanced?” You ask yourself as you flew away, not having the courage to face the twins right now.

Days pass and you still barely have the courage to give in to the pull that they both had, you spent the days you had trying to find whatever it is that you have with the two of them, it was something you cannot explain with words. The pull was extremely hard to ignore, it was a bond of some sort. But you never made a contract with them, did you accidentally make one? But this feels like something more, it wasn't just a normal contract, it feels much more intimate, familial in a sense.

You were reading ancient books, feeling particularly annoyed at the pathetic wails of souls being tortured, annoyed that your brother decided placing his torture chamber near your library where it should be quiet, quiet enough to read without some human soul screaming their hearts out as they are force to relive their most painful memories over and over again.

Your head snapped up when you felt intense amount of anger and pain course through your veins, you dropped the book you were reading and immediately materialized on Earth, finding the human girl in a headlock.

Your vision blurred, only seeing red, you charged towards the man, slamming him to the glass, breaking it, walking forward more, you slammed him to the wall, gripping his neck, you could see green slowly seeping from it. You clenched your teeth, feeling hot flames bursting from around you, cracks emerging from the concrete as molten lava seeps through. Your magic prevented him from transforming. Your eyes a vicious black as anger pumped throughout your whole being. You could feel the monster in you, clawing it's way out, telling you to rip this man's head off and feed it to Cerberus, taking his soul to the deepest, darkest depths of hell.

“Go on. Piss me off.” You growled out, mocking his words, your black wings extending, hiding the both of you from the other's view, who stopped fighting as soon as you materialized from the ground.

Gripping harder now, you ought to kill him, enduring the pain of random blasts and the feeling of a vibranium shield repeatedly being slammed into your wings.

Soft red wisps wrapped around your wrist, comforting you, lowering your guard for a little, allowing the human girl to touch you. Her hands running through the feathers that your wings had.

“It's okay. I'm okay. You don't have to.” Her soft voice rang through your ears, making you drop the coughing man and hold her hand.

“Are you sure?” Your voice raspy from growling.

She just nodded, gripping your hand as well. You didn't even notice the commotion happening. You didn't notice Thor slamming in, zapping the capsule like thing. You didn't notice the android emerging, You didn't notice a single thing. Not until she let go of your hands did you regain senses.

“I thought you said we weren't going to see you again.” She says, making you face her

“Uhm.” You gulped, now that you took at good look at the human girl, she certainly...enhanced herself since you last saw her.

She raised her brows as her head tilted, staring up at you. You felt as thou you were the one being hunted, rather than being the hunter that you are.

“Things change, Little Witch.” You tried to steady yourself, nearly losing your footing at the blue blur that ran past you.

“Wingie! You came back!” The human boy exclaimed.

“...Wingie? What the fuck?” You thought as you narrowed your eyes at them. Watching as the woman chuckled, you looked at her pointedly, knowing that she read your mind, to which she just shrugged.

“You refer to us as human boy and human girl. We refer to you as wingie, it's a fair deal isn't it?” She smirked, her Sokovian accent sending shivers down your spine.

“It is not.” You stood straigher. A frown placed on your face as you knew you needed to leave and cut ties with them. Even if you did not want to, Demon-Human relationships are strictly forbidden, unless they willingly sign their soul to you.

As if sensing this, The human girl took a hold of your wings and tugged on it, giving you a sense of nostalgia

“Stay.” She says with finality.

“I guess it would be nice for you both to tell me your name.” You say after a moment of silence, hissing slightly when you see a mark forming on your palm.

You had given in to their bond, they have successfully pulled you in. It left you wondering how this happened and why has your father, the almighty God, allowed this. Better question, why did Luci never interrupt this bond, he just let it be, even when you asked him about it, he nonchalantly says that you should give in. What better purpose does this have?

“...Now I really need your name.” You mumble out, spotting the glowing marks they both had shining through their clothes.

“Ooooohkay. What is happening around here?” You tore your gaze from the twins to look at the tin man.

“Please do not talk tin man. This does not concern you. However, I believe that The First Son of Odin can help you satisfy your curiosity about me.” You say, gaze returning to the twins.

“Wanda.”

“Pietro.”

“Y/N.” You smiled.

“You now have a personal demon at your command.” You grin, showing your true fiery self to them, bowing like a servant, surprising them a little, Then laughed, comfortable with teasing you at how ugly you looked in your true form, which also made you laugh. A memory you will never forget.

“What's in your mind darling?” Wanda brings you back to reality, her hands softly holding your face.

Tony was kind enough to give you a whole floor to yourselves in the tower, it now looked like a big apartment with a 70's theme due to you and Wanda's modifications just last night. Your wife did have a knack for changing your apartment's theme to different eras, you suspect it's from her love of sitcoms so you just let her be. Besides, her sitcoms are growing on you.

“How we met.” You state, a content smile on your face while tracing the mark she had.

The room you both shared is enveloped in your magic, the illusion showing the night sky, shooting stars passing through despite being in broad daylight.

“Hmmn. You traveled far.” She chuckled, nuzzling further into your wings. You chuckled.

“You love my wings more than me, my love, why must you be like this?” You teased her

“They're softer than you.” She teased back

“You wound me little witch.” You lean in to kiss her, only to be interrupted, your illusion breaking as the door slammed open

“EW EW EW EW EW!” A blue blur barged in, only to run out again.

You huffed out in annoyance, It's 7am and Pietro is already annoying you.

“Why must I also have a bond with that prick.” You grumbled under your breath, burying your face into Wanda's neck.

“Because he's my brother, and you, my love, are my wife. That makes you his sister as well.” She says, pecking your lips multiple times, her Sokovian accent slipping out.

“Mrs. Maximoff, and Other Mrs. Maximoff. Ms. Romanoff wanted me to remind you of your training at 8:30 am after breakfast. And Mr. Stark is demanding you both to have breakfast with the team” FRIDAY, the AI's voice rang out.

“Thank you FRIDAY.” You muttered out, begrudgingly getting up from your shared bed, your wings limp as if sharing your sadness, much to your wife's amusement.

“I don't get it. At all. We've been doing this for 8 years now. Why do I still have to train?” You whined, walking into the dining room where the rest of the Avengers are.

“Because, you little devil, you rely on your powers too much. Hand-to-hand combat is necessary.” Natasha pats your back, grabbing her newly made peanut butter sandwich.

Natasha met you after Bruce saved her from Ultron, your powers saved her by smashing in two robots to the ground, which seemed to amuse her, plus seeing you with horns made her laugh. The next day, she approached you asking if you wanted to spar with her, and you cockily said yes, boasting that you'll beat her in a minute. You were proven wrong, your ass got handed to you every single time, proving that you can't make it through life without your powers.

“And yet, you don't tell Tony to train.” You deadpanned at Natasha, and she looked at you like how an angry mother looks at a child throwing a tantrum.

You accidentally read Natasha's mind one day when you were starving, refusing to feed off your family's emotions, despite them being filled with negative emotions because, the receiver of a demon feeding feels intense pain as said demon sucks their emotions out, leaving them exhausted, sometimes in a coma, and sometimes just dead, it's soul going straight down to hell. She was thinking about how she thinks of you as her daughter, albeit being thousands of years older than her. You just shrugged and went along with it, finding it funny, until you accidentally called her 'Mom' when she got shot, sending the one who shot her down to the pits of hell. And since then it just stuck.

“Because I'm a genius, devilious.” You rolled your eyes at his ego and his horrible nickname.

“Dumbass.” You murmured

“Bitch.” He shot back

“Jerk.” You retaliated. Puffing your wings up to hopefully intimidate him but he just powered up his reactor and threatened to blast you.

“Okay, enough from the both of you.” Wanda gave you a pointed look which had you pouting

“No powers on the dining table!” Pepper scolded.

“Sorry.” you mumbled, directing your attention to the elevator doors as they open to reveal Clint on the phone.

Your eyes drifted to Pietro as you both shared a smirk, if there's one thing that you both could agree on, is that you both love to piss off Clint, who despite being retired, visits the tower often.

You subtly use your powers to tie Clint's shoelaces together as Pietro sped to him, taking his phone.

“Hey!” He complained, taking a step to run after Pietro only to slam, face first into a pillow?

Your eyes then lifted up to see Wanda's glowing eyes, her hands wrapped with a red mist as you see Pietro being dragged into the room by said mist.

“Oh shit.” You murmured, seeing her head tilt, it's common knowledge to run when Wanda tilts her head, it's terrifying as fuck.

“...We can talk about this...” You say, slowly backing up. She just raised her brows

“Whipped.” Clint whispered tauntingly as he passed you

“Take it to the training room kids.” Natasha says, her steaming black coffee nestled in her palms

“I didn't even eat yet.” You whined, plopping yourself away from your wife, beside the metal armed man who pushed the plate of toast towards you.

“Are we still going to ignore how devilious is a literal demon and she's scared of Wondie?” Tony teased, bouncing Morgan on his lap while she drinks her milk.

“Okay. Tony, Tony, Tony. Stare me straight in the eyes, look at me, look, look. Come on, look into my eyes-”

“Yes, I'm looking into your “natural” red eyes, they still look like contacts” He says, air quoting the word natural

“First of all, they are natural. Second, stare right into my eyes and tell me that my wife isn't the MOST TERRIFYING PERSON YOU EVER MET!?”

“Meh.” He says, smirking

“Oh-hoho! Ouch.” You say playfully with a grimace, jaw dropping with a look of offense on your face.

“Let's just agree that wives are terrifying, yes?” You say quickly, motioning to Pepper who was chopping up some food for her daughter, who held up the knife as a response to your statement.

“And this is why I will never get married.” Natasha says, disposing of her plates to the sink before motioning to you.

“I can change that. Do you want a dog too?” Sam asks, grinning

“Get ready to get your ass kicked, Wilson.” You grinned seeing Nat's glare

“Language.” Tony says, motioning to his kid while winking at Steve who rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. The fitted shirt threatening to rip. You always wondered why Steve liked to wear clothes that's one size smaller that what he should be wearing. Maybe it was because of Bucky, or Nat, or both. You never knew with that man.

“It's been 8 years. Why is that still a thing?” Steve groan, making you all laugh.

Your laugh slowly faded, staring at your family, your weird but still very much your family, laughing and having fun without a care in the world, it's memories like these that you want to remember.

You don't want to remember the sacrifices you had to make to get this very moment, the actions you made were selfish yet necessary, for your universe at least. You had the power and the chance to change everything 5 years ago, and you took that chance without hesitation, even if it meant breaking the fabric of the universe itself.

You just hoped that the Avengers from the other universes wouldn't hate you so much for adding to their pain. After all, you did avert what should have happened in your universe, into another universe where the people of earth and it's mightiest heroes, suffered twice. Their pain increasing tenth fold as you merged two problems into one.

The consequence that you have to endure for that however, was white-hot pain. You will have to endure all the universe's pain, nightmares and visions of the battle that should have happened will continue to plague you, visions of Wanda in pain, visions of Tony Stark dying, visions of his funeral, visions of Natasha's death will play in your head over and over again. Your own personal hell.

But it's worth it right? …right? You'd do anything to make your family happy... right? You'd do anything to make her happy. It's worth it. It was definitely worth it... right?

#wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #platonic avengers x reader #platonic natasha romanoff x reader #platonic pietro maximoff x reader #platonic tony stark x reader

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missmonsters2 · 4 years

Text

Between the Lines || XII

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Introducing....David’s king 😏🥰

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII || PART IX || PART X || PART XI

PART XII of XX

Translations:

не против - Don’t mind

ти си моето семејство, во овој и во следниот живот - You’re my family, in this life, and the next.

Count: 5,633

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"Ah..."

The sound made you stop, pulling your mouth away as you stood straighter while licking your lips.

Wanda stood in front of you, breathless as she leaned against the wall, unable to move too much with the tight space. Her hands drifted from your neck to rest on your biceps. Turning, you look at the mirror before you.

Eyes red with stained lips, you internally sighed, feeling an uncomfortable pit in your stomach that told you everything felt both right and wrong.

"I think that's enough..." You say quietly so Wanda can hear, but you don't attract too much attention outside. You turn to grab some paper towels from the dispenser as you wet them under the sink to wipe your mouth.

Turning to Wanda, you notice you hadn't closed up the wound on her neck and purse your lips. The brunette seems to realize as well as she tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck to you once more before she grabs the edge of your bomber jacket and pulls you back against her roughly.

"Wanda," you call her name in warning. Though you are a seasoned vampire, you weren't looking to dance along the edge with the newly feeding you have to do.

"You should finish me off before you say you're done at least," Wanda says, and you feel yourself biting your tongue at how suggestive she sounds.

You wonder if she's doing it on purpose.

Nonetheless, you sigh, leaning your head down, careful to not brush yourself more against her than you must. You lick at the bite wounds, tentatively but quickly, watching the wounds close after.

You pull away, Wanda letting her grip go on you. You use the wet towel to wipe her neck clean of the bloodstains before you throw it down the toilet and flush.

Though feeding gives you energy and revitalizes you, you can't help but feel drained from the experience.

You're about to leave again when Wanda pulls you back.

"Wanda," you say in a more serious warning this time. She's been a little more daring the past couple of days, and you're both intrigued and frightened by it.

Luckily for you, Wanda seems to know where the line is.

"Relax," Wanda cocks her brow. "Your eyes are still glowing red. You should wait until it subsides before you go out."

You look back in the mirror, eyes glowing red brightly, and you sighed. Your body was overly excited about feeding again, and it would take time to adjust.

The two of you idly stand in the small space. You could hear people coming back and forth to check if the washroom is empty.

"So, how often is often?" Wanda asks.

You stand stiffly, cursing at how small airplane washrooms are.

"For now, once a week," you answer her. "But let me know if you feel unwell, and I will check to see if it's my venom."

Wanda nods, blinking languidly.

"I'm sorry," you say when you notice she looks tired. "I promise I will find a way to fix this."

Wanda gave you a tiny smirk.

"No rush."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When you returned to your seat, you sat down with a sigh.

"You alright?" Natasha asked as she grabbed your hand. You turn to look at David. He was clutching his legs in tighter so that Wanda could squeeze past him to her seat.

"Yeah, sorry for taking so long. The red in my eyes are still adjusting to fresh blood," you apologize to Natasha, pulling her hand to kiss the back of it gently before you settle in your seat.

It was just you and Natasha in the aisle, a small moment of peace that you're thankful for. It's been rather quiet between you and Natasha the last few days. When David had located Leo's descendant, he wanted to book the flight for the next day, but you insisted on taking a couple days to get your things together and rest.

The days that followed were simply being in your home with Natasha, quiet as it seemed like Natasha was working through her own emotions and things she seemed not ready quite yet to speak to you about.

And you were okay with that.

"Have you been to Nashville before?" Natasha asks as she looks out the window, the city getting closer in view as it lowers.

You nod, rubbing your thumb idly on the back of her hand. "Yes," you say, "In fact, David and I lived there for a few years."

"Oh?" Natasha smiles. "Did you like it?"

You shrug. "It's a little too country for me and not the good parts of Country culture."

Natasha nods, and you take a moment to put your head on her shoulder, deeply inhaling the scent of vanilla and dry leaves. Natasha leans her head over, pressing her lips to the side of your head, causing your heart to flutter.

"I think I want to be in Bora Bora or maybe the Maldives," Natasha says softly after a moment.

You turn your head upwards slightly, peering up at Natasha's face.

"I'll take you anywhere you want to go," you say as Natasha smiles, head lowering as she presses her lips against yours.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It seems like autumn is also coming to an end in Nashville, the air smelling a little crisper for winter arrival.

Pietro has called Wanda again once her plane landed. He was a little upset that he couldn't come along, but Steve said he could use the help with locating Bucky, and speed would definitely be helpful.

At first, Pietro declined, but then Wanda insisted that he go with Steve. If they were going to make up for the things they've done and be a part of the team, this was the time to show it.

And so, they parted ways for the first time since, well, ever.

"How are we getting there?" Wanda asked as she looked around the airport. Her face held a thinly veiled layer of discomfort that she was trying to hide, though poorly.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asked as she looked at Wanda, seeing through the tough act.

Wanda stared at Natasha, and for a moment, you don't think she's going to answer.

"Yeah," Wanda says finally, licking her lips and swallowing. "I'm just a little tired...and there's a lot of people here. It's...loud."

Natasha looks around and notes that it seems to be prime time for flights. People are bustling around trying to get to their gate on time, and families have gathered to meet people coming off the plane or say goodbye.

"I can't do anything about the loudness," Natasha says, digging into her pocket. "But, here." Pulling out a hard candy wrapped in transparent paper, she gives it to Wanda.

Wanda holds the candy in her palm, tilting her head slightly before she looks back at Natasha. "Thanks."

"Might help with the tiredness," Natasha shrugs before she tells you she'll go grab the bags and walks off with David following her.

Wanda is opening the candy from the wrapper, popping the little thing in her mouth as she sighs, eyes fluttering close as she rubs her temple.

"Headache?" You ask her, garnering her attention.

Wanda nods with a frown. "Yes, more so lately, and it's worse in a crowd. I can hear everything in people's heads, and in a crowd, it's a jumble."

"Turn it off," you tell her with a shrug, and she gives you a look.

"It's not that easy."

"It is," you tell her back. "You're like a radio picking up every station is the available area. It gets easier with time and practice to distinguish the noise, but if you can't handle it in such a large crowd, turn it off."

Wanda merely stares at you as if she doesn't know whether or not to believe you, but she supposes because it's not like you're a stranger to her powers, she sighs.

"How?" She asks.

You come to stand closer to her, blocking her view of anything behind you.

"Focus," you tell her, "You only need to be hearing one voice, and that's your own. Focus on the space within your own mind. Live there."

Wanda gives you a look where it tells you she doesn't quite think it will work but closes her eyes with a sigh and takes a deep breath.

"I...I can't focus," Wanda says frustratingly.

"Relax," you tell her. "Try again, but this time, focus on my voice."

You go on to talk about miscellaneous things like the color of the walls, the scuff marks on the ground, the man with an obstinately ugly hat. And before you know it, the stress lines on Wanda's face begin to fade.

"Better?" You ask when she opens her eyes.

"Yeah," Wanda says breathlessly with relief, "Thank you."

You don't say anything else as Natasha comes back with David.

"So, how are we getting there?" Wanda repeats.

"We rented a car. I'll go grab it and pull it up front," you walk off before anyone say anything.

The ride is silent, with just a radio playing quietly in the background. It's you and David in the front as David helps you navigate and discuss details with you.

But that leaves Natasha and Wanda in the back. The two girls are on opposite ends, looking out the window.

You sigh internally as you focus on the road in front of you.

"What's his name again?"

David pulls up a file. "Robert," he says after a moment. "Devayan. He is Leonard's great-great-grandson. He's the priest for a church in his neighborhood. Well-known and respected in his community. He's got a wife, two kids, and a dog—very American dream with a picket fence and all."

You hum.

"Does Leonard's descendants know about...?" Natasha asks as you look in the rearview mirror.

"Us being vampires?" You supply for her helpfully with a smile as she nods. "Yes, they do, but the secret is only passed to the child who has the greatest alchemy affinity, which most kids won't show until they're at least 13."

"That being said," David jumps in, "we haven't really kept in touch because we only go to a descendant when we have another vampire entering a coven because they have to get the searings to be able to go into the sun, amongst other things. And as you can see, we haven't added anyone new since me."

You turn into a bright community. The sound of children's laughter and dogs barking make their way to your ear. It's a lively little suburban neighborhood, and you wonder if this was something you would have ever wanted.

"Leonard seemed to be really close to you, to be willing to do so much," Wanda comments as she continues to stare at the window at the children playing.

You pull up to the house, putting the car in park with a sigh.

"He was family."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Sorry, the wife and kid's are out shopping right now."

You look at the man before you. He was a young priest, and there were hints of Leo that you recognized in him, like the subtle ginger hair.

"Didn't want to tag along?" David asks, and Robert laughs.

"Goodness, no. Can't say that's how I like to pass my time." Robert sets down a tea tray for the four of you, and Wanda takes up the task of pouring it. Putting in a splash of milk and two and a half sugar cubes, she gives a cup to you.

"Thanks," you say, scrunching your eyebrows initially. But it was your favorite way of taking simple tea, and you took it with ease.

"не против," Wanda mutters as she continues on with pouring tea for Natasha and David, but leaves them to put in their own condiments.

"So, what's this about?" Robert asks as he settles into his seat.

You shift in your seat a little, licking your lip before you clear your throat and bring his attention to you. "Yesterday is gone, tomorrow is a mystery, and today, I have you..."

Robert just stares at you wide-eyed and mouth gaped open. He seems to regain himself and clears his own throat.

"Until the days run out..." he breathes.

"ти си моето семејство, во овој и во следниот живот," you both complete the passage. His Slavic being much rougher than yours, but still, he completes it.

"Huh," Robert grunts in the back of his throat. He slumps in the back of his chair, blinking as he clasps his hands together. "You really exist."

"Did you think I didn't?" You cocked your brow at him.

Robert gives a short, humorless laugh. "To be fair, no one in my family has seen you for a very, very long time. It's not like we have a family photo of you just lying around. I thought my grandfather was lying to me, and my father was not a believer either."

"Well," you shrug, "It gets hard to keep up with visitations when there's no reason to really."

"Even though the passage literally says we're family?" Robert cocks his brow.

"Leo was my family. By that extension, yes, you are somewhat family, a wonderful legacy Leo left behind that I promised him I'd take care of," you try to delicately tell the man before you that no one could ever be family the way Leo was.

"Kind of hard to take care of us when you're not around," Robert says, but not in an unkind way.

"Being around is not the only way I can fulfill my promise. You truly think your family's trust fund just comes out of nowhere?" You rest your jaw against your hand.

Robert seems surprised at that like he had no idea his entire family line was sponsored by you.

"So it seems," Robert smiled softly before clearing his throat. "So what can I do for you?"

You lick your lips.

"I'm looking for you to find a way to break my curse, or at least, find a counterspell to suppress it until I can find another way," you tell him.

Robert stares at you. It takes a long moment, but he gives another small smile, sighing deeply as he grasps his temples. "Hah..." he lets out. "Figures the one time you come to see us for help, and I can't even help you. I was hoping you just needed a place to stay."

"What do you mean?" David asks, frowning. "You haven't even tried."

Robert looks up again, staring at David before he turns to you.

"I don't have the affinity for alchemy."

Silence ensues after Robert reveals his lack of gift.

"You...don't have the affinity..." David says slowly.

"Guess it decided to skip a generation. My father wasn't much of a practitioner either," Robert pursed his lips together. He gets up, walking over to the kitchen, grabbing something off the refrigerator before coming back and passing the item to you. "This would be the person to go to if you're looking for help on that."

You look at the postcard in your hand with an address from Vermont.

There wasn't anything else but a name and a short message.

Liam Bai I have settled in.

"And who is this?" You frown. The idea of having some outsider know your secrets was not ideal.

Robert sighs.

"He's my adoptive brother."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The annoyance of traveling all the way to Texas just to go to Vermont, an hour away from New York, irks you slightly.

David pulls up a file on Liam on the way, but not too much is found.

Chinese descendant. 26. Tattoo Artist. Adopted by Robert's grandfather when Liam was 17.

He seems to run a small tattoo shop in Vermont, a decent following on his Instagram. Other than that, it seemed Liam prized his privacy and peace. No tickets, no personal social media accounts, a minimal online presence.

"Jeeze, this guy gives me serial killer vibes. Only weirdoes have such a small digital footprint," David curls his lips.

"We all have virtually none too, David," you cock your brow at him.

"Case and point," David smirks back at you while Natasha and Wanda chuckle.

Liam's house is a little away from the city where his tattoo shop resides. There are houses but quite spread apart, and it only reaffirms how Liam likes his quiet.

The trees are bare with autumn colored leaves on the ground. The air crisp and cleaner being away from the city. When the four of you approach Liam's home, it a quaint house, wider than it is taller, and painted a deep burned orange.

Hopping up the steps, you cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently, turning to look at the open space while Natasha rang the doorbell and knocked on the door with her knuckles.

You hear footsteps within the house, stern steps as they lazily make their way to the door.

When it opens, you turn, and your eyes widen along with everybody else's.

This man, at least six feet tall, towers over everyone as he casually lifts his arms high to lean against each side of the door with his left leg crossed lazily over his right.

He wears a muscle shirt, most of the top part of his body exposed.

Tattoos.

Everywhere.

A large black ornate religious cross tattooed on his throat, while you could see most of the creations of hands branded across his front chest near his collarbones, fingers just about it meet at his jugular notch. Each arm had a full sleeve tattoo.

His left arm was designed with a twisted snake going downwards, a bitten apple in its mouth, shrouded with leaves and vines. His right arm were things you didn't quite recognize but could guess it was alchemy spells, fully tattooed elaborate circles and symbols. Even his hands and fingers had symbols and shapes.

He looks like belongs in a gang rather than the adopted grandson of a long line of priests.

"Well," his voice is somewhat low but soft. "You must be the visitors my dear brother sent my way." The way he says dear brother has the slightest tone of amusement, and you're not sure what to make of it.

You stare at him a bit longer because his face is much clearer than the photo David pulled up. His skin is fair with a cool complexion, thick brows, and tousled black hair that seems to be perfectly styled that way with his fringe cascading just above his eyebrows, parting to reveal his forehead. His almond-shaped eyes showed a deep dark brown, like the rich soils of the earth, but yet hold no warmth.

He looks somewhat familiar, but you're not sure if it's just because you recognize those eyes in yourself once upon a time.

You look over to David, who has his jaw hanging as he stares at the man before them. You nudge him, drawing him out of whatever trance he was in as he coughs to clear his throat.

"Er, yes," David stutters before he rambles off everyone's name quickly. "Can I--can we come in?" David blinks, and Liam turns his head slowly, locking eyes with David. A moment passes, and you're about to speak up again when Liam stands straighter and turns to walk back into his house.

The four of you follow the man inside, looking at the place around you. Antique furniture, just like yourself, but there are shelves upon shelves of books.

Liam walks into his kitchen, putting on a pot of hot coffee as he pours himself some, but doesn't offer any to anyone else. He then walks into his study room and leans against his desk, half-sitting on the edge.

"What are you looking for help with?" He asks, neither sounding reluctant or eager.

"Robert mentioned you were adopted into the family because you had an affinity for alchemy," you say. "I'm assuming you know--"

"That you're a vampire?" Liam cuts in. "Yes."

"You don't seem surprised by that," David interjects slowly. "Even Robert was taken aback."

Liam rolled his eyes lightly. "You can spare me the details. Robert and I both went through the spiel with his grandfather. Robert doesn't have the affinity. I do. Belief is different when you are different too."

"His grandfather...?" You raise your brow.

Liam puts his coffee down beside him. "You must realize that though I've been adopted by them, I'm not an actual descendant of Leonard Devayan. It was clear that I was brought in to help fulfill the promise between you and Leonard. I get financial support from them, but I'm not entitled to your trust fund to them, nor can I inherit the church."

"That's kind of fucked up, considering you'll be doing all the work here," you frown.

Liam shrugs. "No need to feel sorry for me, I have zero interests in their money or inheriting the church, and Robert is annoyingly persistent that I visit them during the holidays. Besides, you can probably tell, I don't quite look like the regular priest."

"Actually," you give Liam a small smile, "Leo was rather similar to you. He liked tattoos as well. Though, just on his hands. He wasn't as adventurous."

Liam gave a small smirk but moved on. "So," he takes a breath, "What exactly are you looking for help with. Robert wasn't clear on the phone. Are you looking to turn more people and need searings for the sun?"

"No," you breathe, "I need you to help figure out how to end my curse."

Liam stares at you for a moment. The curse wasn't discussed in great length to him as not too much information was passed down because Leonard believed you wouldn't try to ask to remove it again.

Still, he eyes you before he turns and studies Natasha a bit before Liam looks at Wanda.

"You bit her, spreading your curse to her," Liam deduces.

"How do you know it's Wanda?" Natasha asks with a slight narrow of her eyes.

Liam licks his lip as he stands up, using his fingers to gesture everyone to follow up. He walks up to his bookshelf and pulls a book down like a lever, and the entire bookshelf splits and makes way into a secret room.

Inside the room, there are rows of tables filled with papers and things you would find in a science lab: beakers, stirring rods, mortars and pestles, and chemicals.

"In some ways, alchemy is a derivative from a witch's spells or magic. What do you think alchemy is?" Liam asks.

"Leonard always said it was a power given to them by God to be able to protect themselves against the supernatural," you recall.

"Kind of, not really," Liam says as he walks over to grab a black chalk and begins to draw circles and symbols on the ground around Wanda, motioning her to stay in place. "There are different types and levels of alchemy. Alchemy, one on hand, can also be a science. It's changing one thing to something else. Anyone could practice it. Even Robert could to a degree."

Liam finishes drawing and drops the chalk to the side as he dusts off his hands.

"But to have the gift for alchemy," Liam lifts his thumb to his lips, "Means your DNA has an affinity to the sun, the moon, the wind, or the earth."

Liam bites down on his thumb hard enough to break the skin, blood rushing out, the smell assaulting both you and David instantly before Liam presses his thumb against the line of the circle.

The air changes.

A white, hot electric buzz fills the air as the alchemy circle flashes a bright blue for a second before returning to normal. The chalk drawing underneath Wanda disappears.

"What...happened?" Wanda asks slowly as she looks at her hands and the rest of her body, but she doesn't find anything amiss.

Liam gestures at Wanda to check where her sternum is. Pulling the front of her shirt at the neck, she peers down.

"What..." Wanda mumbles.

Both you and Natasha looked at each other before moving forward to check, Wanda holding her shirt open for the two of you. Wanda's bra was blocking part of the view, but her sternum now visibly bore the curse's inscription. The black words on her skin and then dark-colored veins prominently spreading outwards from her sternum.

"What did you do to her?!" You whip your head towards Liam, snarling at him.

He holds his hand up to calm you down.

"Nothing dangerous, relax," he cocks his brow at you. "As I said, Alchemy is about changing one thing to something else. I used the chalk as a medium to bring the curse to the front of Wanda's body so it can be visibly seen."

When you realize Wanda's not in any imminent danger, you pull your snarl back, and the red from your eyes fade away.

"This will help you tell when the curse is spreading. Wanda's veins will darken and spread as her cells deteriorate. Don't EVER let the dark veins spread past her chest. If you do, the curse is meant to collapse her sternum and pierce her heart. She will die." Liam warns sternly, eyebrows furrowed together, and lips in a straight line.

"How do you know?" David asks with a slight frown.

"As I said," Liam looked at David, "Alchemy is a derivative from witch's spell or magic. The inscriptions are alchemy transmutation spells. If an alchemist has an affinity for alchemy, they can tell when it's been used on someone." Liam turns to you. "That's how I know it was Wanda that you bit."

You nod curtly. You think about how the veins were just barely protruding from her sternum, so Wanda would be relatively safe for a while since you just fed on her during the plane ride to Texas.

"What did you mean that your DNA has an affinity to the sun, moon, wind, or the earth?" Natasha asks.

You turn your attention back to Wanda, trying to inspect if she was indeed okay. It wasn't that you didn't trust Liam, but you couldn't help but worry.

All of this was your fault.

The fact that Wanda was cursed with potentially no way of getting out of this.

And the complicated mess you know would only hurt everyone in the end, so you needed to get this shit sorted out.

"It means," Liam interrupted your thoughts. "I have an extra DNA strand."

You blink.

"Honestly, I don't blame people in the past, believing alchemy was a gift or power given by God," Liam shrugs. "In a way, I guess they're not wrong. Alchemy's affinity comes from people who have an extra DNA strand from one of the natural elements. The sun, the moon, the wind, the earth." He uses his fingers to count as he speaks. "Having an extra DNA strand is a...mutation. The deformity being able to perform alchemy as a power. As you can guess, depending on what extra DNA strand you have, that's the alchemy you have an affinity to."

Natasha nods thoughtfully as she holds her chin. "I see. So the sun would be fire, the moon would be water, the wind would be air, and the earth is well...earth."

"Exactly," Liam nods.

"Leonard must've been fire," you say pensively to yourself, reminiscing.

"What are you?" David asks Liam, licking his lips.

Liam tilts his head to the side.

"I have four extra DNA strands."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Something has been putting you on edge since you've arrived in Vermont.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asks softly, catching you look out the window for maybe the millionth time now.

"Yeah, sorry," you breathe, uncrossing your arms. "It's just...something feels off," you tell her quietly, as to not attract the attention from others.

Liam and Wanda were currently looking over his books and scrolls to see if he could find anything that would help Wanda while David helped them.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asks as she takes a seat on the couch's armrest, pulling you closer, so you were between her legs. She rubs your arms up and down, hoping to comfort you.

"It's just..." you start to say before you turn sharply at the window again. Natasha's brows furrow, but she has no time to ask as you barrel into her while David tackles both Liam and Wanda to the ground.

The glass of the window shatters as a body breaks through. It happens so fast, you hardly even have time to move, but you do.

You smell burning flesh because there's still sun out, though it's setting. A snarl rips through the air as the intruder turns and leaps toward Wanda. David gets up, forcing his feet to push off the ground as he launches towards the vampire. The two of them collide into a blurring mess.

Natasha starts to get up, but you hold her in place.

"What--"

"Don't," you warn her. "If that thing collides into you, your body will tear apart, enhanced, or not."

You get up, running over to David as he's pinned to the ground as you rip off the vampire.

Even with his fleshed burned, he was strong.

Liam scrambles to get up as he grabs another chalk nearby and starts drawing another transmutation circle on the ground as fast as he can.

You're trying with David to get the upper hand on this vampire, one locking him into place while the other tries to rip his head off.

"Wanda," Liam calls, and she turns to him with worry in her eyes as she stands in the corner, unsure of what to do. "I'm creating a prison for him. You need to use your powers to place him in here and keep him down."

"Okay," Wanda says determinedly.

You look at David, who nods in sync with you. You both let go of the vampire at once, and Wanda lifts her hands, casting her powers over the vampire to lock it in place.

He tries to thrash in place, but it's impossible to move with Wanda's vice-like grip on him. She wobbly moves him until he's in the middle of Liam's transmutation circle.

Liam bites in the same place of his thumb earlier, breaking the wound once more, letting a single drop of blood fall in.

The ground starts to shake slightly as the floor where the vampire lies crumbles, giving way. The outline of the circle lights up, and suddenly, vine-like branches with spikes shoot out of the ground. It wraps around the intruding vampire, the spikes piercing his body. He screams out in pain, trying to move, but is unable to due to Liam.

The light fades, leaving the vampire bleeding out as he's trapped in his spot.

"What...was that?" Wanda asked, everyone clearly knowing that he was after her.

You help Natasha off from the ground, checking her for injuries. You find nothing other than a tiny cut on her cheek from a stray glass shard.

"I'm okay," Natasha assures you, more frustrated with herself for being unable to do anything.

You frown, wiping off some of the blood with your glove before you turn to the offender on the ground.

"That was so cool," David breathes as he looks at Liam, who is giving him a tiny smile.

With the vampire immobile, you could finally take a good look.

He was somewhat sickly pale. His eyes were red, a dark red, meaning he wasn't hungry when he lunged for Wanda.

But the thing that stood out the most to you what the prominent veins underneath his eyes.

And you've seen that before.

"No," you frown in denial.

"Where did you come from?" You demand, but the vampire just smirks.

You want to leap in to strangle the thing, but Liam holds your arm to hold you back.

"Anything that steps into that circle will be roped in just like him," Liam warns.

The vampire continues to bleed out as it laughs.

"Wait--" David says, "he's actually dying. Look!"

Everyone looks to where David is pointing at, and you clench your jaw. As a vampire, the only thing that could kill you was wood from the Methuselah tree. Yet, this vampire was disintegrating, turning to dust at his toes.

The vampire looks at you, and you feel a chill down your spine.

"How cute," he tells you, voice raspy as he's disappearing. "Looks like you have everything you've wanted."

You furrow your brows at him.

"Do I know you?" You say, but the vampire doesn't even seem conscious of the fact that he's speaking.

"My love," he says, looking at you, and while you revolt, there's something familiar in the way he says it.

Like you've heard it before.

"It seems you've learned how to want more," he smiles cruelly. "But if it's not more for the right things...then I'll show you what it's like to lose everything you have."

Your heart drops.

"Wait!" You shout, trying to somehow get him to stay, but before you could say anything else, the vampire completely crumbles to dust, leaving nothing behind.

All of you stare at the empty space. The shackles that were holding the vampire in place disappears along with the transmutation circle.

"No," you start to say quietly. "No, no, no, no--"

"Hey!" David grabs you, trying to keep you calm.

"This can't be," you say slowly.

"What? What's wrong?" David shakes you by the shoulder a little.

You look at him.

"That was her."

Silence.

"What?" David says, not understanding.

You look at the ground where the vampire used to be.

"I don't know how...but that was her," you say.

"That was Tatyana."

PART XIII

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #marvel reader insert #natasha x wanda x you #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff x you #black widow x reader #mm: my fics #series: between the lines

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crazy4dragons · 3 years

Text

Mama’s Boy

Nuffink is being bullied at the Academy. Canon-verse, a few years after HTTYD3 ends. Rating: PG (very mild language, bullying, a bit of mild violence).

Mama’s boy.

Nuffink fought back tears as he ran out of the Academy, his classmates’ sneers echoing in his head.

Mama’s boy. Mama’s boy.

It all started when a group of kids happened to walk by the Haddock house while Astrid was giving Nuffink a cuddle and kiss goodbye, just as she did every morning before school. It had been their routine ever since his very first day, when he and Astrid both cried — him because he was nervous, and her because she realized that her baby was officially growing up, and all the mornings of completing paperwork with him snuggled in her lap were over.

Nuffink never thought of his bond with Astrid as odd, but the other New Berkian children certainly did. After all, he’d just turned ten years old, and once you hit double digits, hugs and kisses from your parents just weren’t cool.

That only added to the list of reasons to tease him. Nuffink already knew the others snickered behind his back when he couldn’t hit swing his mace hard enough, or hit the target with his axe. And then there was Spitelout, who had somehow talked his way into teaching a class on strength and persistently mocked Nuffink for not being able to do more than ten push-ups in a row.

“You’ve got Jorgenson blood in you somewhere,” he’d laughed. “And Jorgensons aren’t weak.”

The teasing had been happening all week, but Nuffink hadn’t told anyone. Hiccup was off at the annual tribe meeting, and with Astrid left to do the work of two people for a few days, he didn’t want to burden her with his problems.

“Nuffink, wait!”

Nuffink turned around to see Zephyr running towards him. She was a level above him in training, so they weren’t in the same class. Evidentially, however, she’d heard what happened.

“Who’s bullying you?” she demanded, blue eyes narrowing just as her mother’s did when she was angry. “I’ll kick their asses and send them all the way to Hel.” The language she got from Snotlout and Tuffnut, both of whom she spent way too much time with.

“Forget it.” Kicking a stone, Nuffink sank against a large boulder and buried his face in his hands. “I’m never gonna be good enough, especially not if you and Mama keep taking care of me.”

Zephyr sat beside her brother and wrapped him in a hug. From the day he was born, he’d been her best friend. Sure, they fought sometimes as all siblings do, but mostly, they were inseparable. “I’m your sister, Fink. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“Why, because I’m a baby?”

“No, because we’re family, and family looks out for each other.” Zephyr stood up. “Now come on, let’s go home.”

Nuffink shook his head. “We can’t go home. Mama will ask why we’re back early and I don’t want to bother her with this. Not until Dad gets back tomorrow.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Let’s go to the cove,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes. “We can hide there until the classes let out.”

Zephyr shrugged. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

The two children crept out from behind the boulder and began walking towards New Berk’s hidden cove, trying to stay off the main paths so they wouldn’t attract attention.

“Aren’t yer two supposed to be at the Academy?”

Nuffink’s heart sank as he heard Gobber’s voice behind them. It figured they wouldn’t make it very far unnoticed, not with Gobber, Valka, and Astrid all working hard to maintain the island.

“Uncle Gobber!” Zephyr smiled. “We were just heading to the Ingermans’ for lunch. Fishlegs invited us.”

“Does yer mother know?”

“Of course. We cleared it with her this morning.” Then, before Gobber could say anything else, she grabbed Nuffink’s arm and urged him forward. “Bye, Uncle Gobber!” she called behind her. “Have a good day!”

The rest of the way to the cove was fortunately fairly vacant; the only Vikings around were a few women and Mildew, all of whom were too caught up in the latest gossip to take notice of the two Haddock children.

“Zephyr,” Nuffink began once they were safely concealed behind the bushes.

“Yeah?”

“What if Gobber asks Mama if she really told us we could eat at the Ingermans?”

“Then we make up another lie,” Zephyr said.

Nuffink bit his lip. “I don’t know. I hate lying to Mama. You know that.”

“It’s either lie or tell her what happened at the Academy.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “But if I get grounded, it’s your fault.”

“Wait.” Narrowing her eyes, Zephyr strained her ears in attempt to detect whether or not she was imagining her mother’s angry voice in the distance.

“If you ever so much as come within ten feet of my son again, I swear to the gods I’ll chop off your legs with my axe and ship you off to the Outcasts!”

Yes, that was definitely her mother. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about telling Mom the truth,” the girl began cautiously. “She already knows.”

“How?” Nuffink’s mouth gaped in shock.

“Because nothing happens on this island without Mom and Dad hearing about it,” Zephyr said, giving off her best Hiccup impression, hand gestures included.

The boy sighed. “I just hope this doesn’t make everything worse.”

“Mom’s the chieftess,” shrugged Zephyr. “Everyone has to listen to her.”

“Yeah, but her going out there and defending me is only gonna make me look like a stupid Mama’s boy even more.” He kicked a twig on the ground.

Zephyr opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Astrid emerged from the bushes, fist clenched around the handle of her axe.

“Please don’t make a fuss, Mama,” Nuffink begged. “It’s bad enough everyone thinks I’m too weak to take care of myself.” He fought back the tears brimming in his eyes.

Dropping her weapon, Astrid caught her son in a hug. “My baby,” she murmured, holding him close.

“I’m not a baby,” sniffled Nuffink as he felt a tear slip down his freckled cheek.

“You aren’t weak,” Astrid assured, standing back and pressing a hand to his shoulder. “You’re kind, clever, and thoughtful, just like your dad. And your father is one of the strongest people I know.”

“But I wanna be like you,” insisted the boy.

Astrid laughed. “Trust me, love. One child like me is enough.” She nodded towards Zephyr. “Now come on, you two. Let’s go home.”

…

The next day, Nuffink trudged into the Academy, eyes on the floor as he forced himself to move through the gates and over to his class. Part of him hadn’t even wanted to come to school that morning, but the other part of him wanted to show up and prove everyone wrong.

“Thanks a lot for being a tattletale to your Mama, Mama’s boy,” Spearlout taunted. “She came to my house and cussed out my whole family because you can’t keep your stupid mouth shut.”

“I didn’t tell,” Nuffink said in a small voice. “Word got out and —”

“Mmm-hmm, a likely story,” cut in Hildegard.

Nuffink’s heart tumbled down to his stomach. His excuse was only partly true. Astrid had first heard of the incident from others, but after they’d gotten home from the cove, he’d broken down and told her everything, prompting her to make rounds to several households and threaten the guilty parties with her axe.

“Baby,” laughed Spearlout.

“Hey!” Tearing away from her group, Zephyr charged towards her cousin and elbowed him in the ribs until he fell to the ground. “You leave my brother alone!”

“Ouch! Zephyr!” Spearlout cried, struggling back to his feet and throwing a punch at Zephyr’s nose, which she swiftly dodged.

Hildegard inched closer to Nuffink. “Why don’t you get in there and help? Oh wait, you’re too much of a baby.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Leif. “You can’t do anything on your own.”

“Zephyr, please,” Nuffink begged as he watched his sister aim for Spearlout’s eye. “You’re only making it worse.”

“What in Thor’s name is going on?”

The children turned to see Spitelout stalking towards them.

“Your grandson is messing with my brother,” spat Zephyr.

Spitelout laughed. “Well, lass, yer brother needs to toughen up. He is a quarter Jorgenson, and Jorgensons aren’t weak.”

Holding back tears, Nuffink ran out the Academy and towards the Haddock house. He didn’t care about being tough, not right now. In that moment, all he cared about was going home to Astrid.

As he turned the doorknob, the chieftess turned away from her newly returned husband and narrowed her eyes. “Alright, who do I need to kill?”

“Kill?” Hiccup cut in.

“These half-troll kids — and Spitelout — are bullying Nuffink,” Astrid spat, looking back at Hiccup. “He said it’s been happening all week, but I only just heard about it yesterday. I swear to every god in Hel, I’m—”

The Chief held up a hand. “Take it easy, milady. I got this.”

“But —”

“I got this,” he repeated, kissing her cheek before approaching Nuffink and swinging a comforting arm around his shoulders. “What’s up, bud? Who’s bullying you?”

“Spearlout, Hildegard, Leif,” sniffled Nuffink. “The rest of my class sometimes joins in, too, but mostly it’s them.”

Hiccup offered a comforting smile. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised, ruffling his son’s hair as he opened the door to leave.

“Don’t make it worse, Dad,” Nuffink said, wiping his eyes.

“I won’t. I promise. You can even come with me if you’d like.”

After a moment of silence, the boy took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d actually like that,” he decided slowly.

With that, Hiccup and Nuffink set off for the Academy, where they discovered Zephyr cursing at Spitelout while Spearlout sat against the wall, a purple bruise forming around his eye.

“Excuse me,” Hiccup began. “I don’t know what all this is —” He gestured to the group “—But whatever it is, it’s over.”

“Look what yer lass did to my grandson,” Spitelout growled, motioning to Spearlout. “And then she has the nerve to pull her smart mouth on me. Whatever happened to respecting yer elders?”

Hiccup glared at the older Viking. “It is my understanding, Spitelout, that you and Spearlout are both guilty of bullying my son.”

“Oh, Chief,” laughed Spitelout. “Yer got t’ stop being so soft. You yerself was weak as a lad, and look at yer now.”

“Yeah, I’m in charge of this island,” Hiccup pointed out.

“And yer doing a terrible job,” Spitelout insisted.

“Putting all feelings about me aside, we need to talk about what’s been going on here.” Glaring, Hiccup folded his arms over his chest. “Spearlout, Hildegard, Leif, come over here and stand with Spitelout.”

The three children hesitated.

“Now,” Hiccup ordered, his voice firm.

Muttering under their breaths, they dragged themselves forward.

“When I was a boy,” the chief began, “most of the other kids my age treated me just the way you’re treating Nuffink. It left me feeling like I wasn’t good enough to be a Viking, and certainly not good enough to be Chief. So I told myself that if my kids were ever made to feel that way, I’d find everyone responsible and make sure they served a fair punishment.”

The children’s eyes widened. Spitelout grunted.

“And because you made my son feel bad about himself, I’m going to ask that you kids clean out the yak stables every day. For a moon.”

“But Chief! It wasn’t that serious!” insisted Spearlout, looking to his grandfather with his one good eye.

“That is ridiculous, Haddock,” Spitelout barked. “Yer can’t make them do that.”

“But Chief!” tried Hildegard.

“Two moons.”

“That’s not fair!” Leif shouted.

“So not fair!” Spearlout echoed.

“Three moons.”

Spearlout opened his mouth again.

“I can make it four,” warned Hiccup, prompting him to bite back his retort. “As for you, Spitelout, you’re on outhouse duty until the end of the season. You will also no longer be working at the Academy. From now on, Eret will be teaching strength training instead.”

Spitelout’s eyes widened. “But Eret isn’t even a born Berkian!” he exclaimed.

“And I’ll be there, watching you — all of you — to make sure the jobs get done,” Hiccup continued, ignoring Spitelout’s outburst. “Is that clear?”

The four nodded.

“Now get to work. Classes are over for the day,” Hiccup ordered before turning to Nuffink, who was observing silently. “You ready to go, bud?“

Nuffink nodded as a small, crooked smile appeared on his lips. Maybe taking after his dad wasn’t so awful after all.

#httyd #haddock family #nuffink #zephyr #hiccup #astrid #momstrid #daddycup #chief hiccup #trigger warning bullying #bullying #fanfic #my writing #hiccstrid babies

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black-dragon1998 · 3 years

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Ghost Capatain Chapter 1

Summary: After years of abuse from Hydra reader and the twins escape to New York City and try to survive in the only way they know. Becoming the new top dogs in the American criminal underworld is just a bonus that helps them help people in need. The Avengers, however, aren't that pleased when they by a rough bach of Vibranium and bust into their Club and arrest the reader.This set a whole rollercoaster of events in motion, that not only racked up old memories for the reader but also Bucky and Natasha.

I suck at summaries sorry.

This is a non-canon and just a figment of my imagination that I couldn't get out of my head. at the moment I have a pretty good idea where this fic is going but that could always change. Don’t like don’t read.

Warning: non at the moment but will most likly be added in further chapters.

Ghost Captain Masterlist

You were leaning against the bannister of the private second floor overlooking the club. Your men around you were preparing everything for the deal going down tonight. All were nervous for it, for you, it was just another day at the office.

Your interest at the moment lay with the green-eyed brunette wearing red at the bar. The two of you were having a silent stare down that nobody was paying attention to. You had found her easily enough, even in this sea of people you were drawn to her and it had nothing to do with her psychic powers.

It had taken her a long time accepting her powers, but when she finally did she was a real powerhouse. People always thought you were the scary one, well than they hadn’t ever seen Wanda angry. Even Pietro didn’t trifle with her when she was and he pissed off everybody all the time.

When she was having a bad day because of the burden of her powers put on her or just because of you and Pietro were there for her. The three of you were family and you would die for each other. More importantly, she was your moon, the reason you were still sane after everything Hydra put you through. When the three of you were finally able to escape Hydra you had fled to America and done what you did best. Survived.

After a couple of years in America, the three of you had made a name for yourselves. Now nobody trifled with you anymore. The business you had set up both legally and illegally were run by the three of you in the shadows. Parts of the money you earned was invested back into companies and projects you had running in Sakovia. Never having lost the connection with your home country.

Taking a sip of your drink your eyes drifted back to Wanda. The glass nearly broke form the tension you suddenly put on it. Their next to Wanda was a sniffling little bitch that had the audacity to put his hands on her. He would quickly learn nobody touched your girl and got away with it.

Wanda was sitting at the bar enjoying her drink. She for one liked being on the ground floor, unlike you who mostly stayed on the second floor overlooking the club. Being surrounded by so many people in a controlled environment gave her a certain feeling of normality.

At the moment though she was regretting not being on the second floor with you. The guy to her right was getting closer and closer. The way he was looking at her made her want to throw up. She tried ignoring him and found you looking at her from the bannister.

You looked so dame hot with your burgundy three-piece suit. Just enough buttons of your shirt were undone to be sinful and it sends her mind spiralling. Wanda could also see the numerous women around her trying to get your attention but you had only eyes for her.

Everybody thought you were this big bad mobster with no heart. Well, you were a big bad mobster but Wanda knew you would die for the people you called family. Only they got to see that side of you. Wanda even called you her teddy bear behind closed doors.

“well aren’t you particularly beautiful, sweetheart?” Wanda’s attention was called back to the guy to her right. Now he was leaning against the bar far closer than Wanda would have liked. She decided to not give him any attention, that usually ended with the guy on the floor bleeding.

“you know I have never seen you here before. Us meeting must have been fate.” Wanda could smell the alcohol on his breath. Instead of acknowledging him she turned away and took a sip from her drink. If he kept bothering her for much longer she would call the bouncers to throw him out, before you could deal with him.

Then he made the fatal mistake of putting his hands on her.

“Not to brag or anything but I may know the owner of this joint. If I put in a good word we could go somewhere private.” This made Wanda laugh before she pulled her arm away. She felled your anger burning as she felled you nearing. This time she did face him.

“I don’t believe you know anybody in this club, let alone the owner. You don’t seem to be made from the same material as they are.” Her statement seemed to anger him. He roughly took her by the shoulder this time. His hand, however, was quickly removed by a furious you.

You had a fire in your eyes when you looked at the asshole who dared to put his hands on Wanda. He seemed to link back at your anger trying to pull his hands back.

“you think it’s okay to grab a lady just like that?” it wasn’t a question but he still seemed to want to stammer out a response. He was quickly shut up by you.

“I don’t want to hear your sorry ass excuse. I heard the last part of the conversation you had. I have to say to make such a bold statement you either have to be incredibly tough or incredibly stupid. So tell me what is it. Because believe me I have never seen you before.” His eye became comically wide.

“More importantly I would like to know where you would have gone to be ‘private’ in my club with my girl.” The full realisation hit him and all colour drained from his face. He started blabbering incoherent words together with apologies when one of your waiters showed up. A young woman in her mid-twenties. A good worker never had any problems with her.

“I am so sorry Captain. He is my brother and I let him in. I told him to behave, didn’t know he would go after Wanda.” The girl sounded distressed. You looked her over with a critical eye and she shrunk back into herself.

“Please don’t fire me. I really need this job. I promise I won’t happen again.” The girl stood with her hand hanging down, not meeting your eye. You felled Wanda nudge your mind.

“you can’t fire her. It’s the only job she has and has to provide for her idiot brother and sick mother.” Leave it to Wanda to play on your emotional side. Turning to the sibling Infront of you, sighting internally.

“I don’t want to see his face here again if I do you won’t like the outcome.” Your voice is cold, leaving no room for arguing. Not that they would try anyway. Soon after the bouncers arrived and took him away.

The girls turn to you with watery eyes.

“thank you. I wouldn’t know what I would have done if I lost my job.” You clapped the girl's shoulder to ground her.

“We can’t be held accountable for what our family does.” Your voice is hard but caring, something Wanda is going to tease you about later. Finally, she met your eyes and gave you a small smile. That is when your eyes caught something, a small bruise around her eye.

You felled the girl stiffen again, trying to get out your grasp.

“I fell this morning.” her lie wasn’t convincing at all but you didn’t correct her. Instead, you took a card out of your back pocket and put it in her hand.

“When you are ready go to this address. Tell them I send you and everything will be sorted out for you.” She put the card in her pocket and went back to work. You only hoped she wouldn’t wait until it was too late.

The attention that was on you quickly faded when the song changed and people went back to drinking and dancing. Turning around you were met with Wanda smiling at you.

“you are getting soft in your old age my captain.” She smirked at you. Quickly snacking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

“Who are you calling old baby. If I recall correctly I’m only two years older than you my little witch.” You whisper in her ear, not denying her statement. Wanda knew you were soft for her. You did nip her ear as small reprimanding. She only giggled and hugged you close.

“I love you, my Captain.” She told you kissing you deeply.

“love you too my little witch.” after a long passionate moment your break apart and remind her that you have a meeting in half an hour and that you should prepare for that.

Normally you and Pietro make the deals with when they are done in the clubs, Wanda being in the back pretending to be eye candy. In reality, she was scanning everybody for trouble but Pietro was with Zrinka at the moment. So you would do the deal on your own, with Wanda as a back-up.

For today's deal, you were glad she would be staying on the background. Ulysses Klaue was a pig and you despised having to work with him and after the shit that went down with Ultron, he wasn’t happy to work with you either. But he wanted to do business in the city so he had to go through you to do it.

“would you look at this, the street rat made it big.” Klaue laughed when he was let into the room and saw you sitting at the desk. Your facial expression didn’t waver. You had long ago learned to never let verbal assault get to you.

“I would say it’s nice to see you again Klaue but we both know that would be a lie. So why don’t you tell me what you came here with and we can both go on with our life’s.” his smirk quickly disappeared and was replaced with a scowl.

“watch who you are talking too. I have an appointment with the leader of this joint.” Now it was your turn to laugh.

“I know. You are talking to them.” You see him want to make a smart-ass comment but cut him off.

“I would watch the tone you take on with me. Everything that is said here will determine if the big boss wants to do further business with you. So I would watch your words.” He grumbles under his breath but sat down.

It quickly became clear he wanted to get rid of his last batch of Vibranium. Apparently, the Avengers were closing in on him and he hopped getting rid of it would get them off his case. You thought that was highly unlikely but weren’t about to tell him that. T’challa had asked you and the twins to look out for rogue Vibranium and get it back to Wakanda.

“so if I’m understanding this correctly you want to sell me your last batch of Vibranium.” You slumped a little in your seat and intertwined your fingers.

“why would you do that?” you knew why but wanted to be sure and hear it from him.

“I think you know why. The Avengers are hunting me for months and there are only so many places one can run to before being sick of it.” He spat out, already angry enough he had to deal with you. He was also apprehensive cause last he checked the Avengers were just breathing down his neck.

Feeling you had desperate enough for negotiation you put your poker face back on.

“Alright, we might be interested in buying it from you. You saw hope flicker behind his eyes, even though he further showed no emotions.

“at the right price of course.” You smirked.

“1 million dollars.” He started. You razed an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“750 000” you countered.

“900 000”

“I thought you wanted to get rid of it to get the Avengers of your ass.” You questioned.

“850 000” he tried again.

“800 000, with the promise wrap this up tonight. That is my final offer.” You reached your hand out to close the deal. He seemed to contemplate for a moment but finally shook your hand. After that things were finalized quickly. Seemed he wanted to get rid of it. Within the hour the crate with Vibranium stood in your office and you were eight hundred thousand dollars lighter but it was worth it.

Klaue didn’t waste any time to leave with his eight hundred thousand dollars and put as much distance between him and the treat as he could.

When you were sure he had left you called Wanda to join you in the office. Completely slumping into your chair suit jacket open, happy that that deal was over. Wanda sauntered into the office with a massive grin on her face.

“look at you my big scary mob boss handling things so smoothly.” She pulls you out of your chair and into a big messy kiss. When you eventually part for air you stroke the side of her face.

“come on gorgeous let’s go home so I can show you what a real badass I am.” She giggled. If other people would see you like this they wouldn’t believe her but luckily you were already hers.

“yes, lets so I can spoil you for a job well done.” She giggled when a little blush appeared on your face.

Leading her toward the back garage, not feeling like waiting for your driver. Beside you liked to drive once in a while. Picking the keys to the Lykan sportscar. Having let the Vibranium being placed in before. You lead Wanda to the passenger door when alarms began going off.

You quickly turn around and look at the monitors placed in the garage. What you see makes you curse, the Avengers were busting down the door of your club. Subtlety apparently wasn’t something they did.

“I thought some of them were ex-assassins.” Wanda had to chuckle at your comment. Turning toward her you give her the keys. She looked at you confused.

“go now. I will cover you with my powers.” Disbelieve filled her eyes.

“(Y/N)! no, I am not leaving you behind.” At moments you find her stubbornness adorable, not right now.

“Wanda we don’t have time for this. They are after the leader of this club. That is me, so that means you can get away.” The ‘you can get me out later’ going unsaid.

“promise me you will be careful?” you gave her a reassuring kiss while opening the driver’s door.

“I promise. Now go may we meet in Sint-Pietersburg.” You saw her understanding before she got into the car, setting up a mental link with you. As she drives out the garage you reflect the lights around the car so it seemed to be invisible. When you know she is out of reach you start thinking about your own escape.

The moment you think about slipping into the shadows you are hit in the back with an electric shock that made your knees buckle and fall to the ground. Twisting with aftershock you see pair of black combat boots come closer. Looking up you see a woman with red hair wearing a SHIELD tactical suit.

“shit!” you mutter before she hits you with another round of electrical shock before you pass out.

Chapter 2

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noladyme · 3 years

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La Cuervo - Chapter 8

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

With firm hands on her hips, Angel led Nina in front of him; only letting go to hold the door for her to enter the clubhouse. Inside, they found both clubs neck deep in their first beers. Tig was seated on a chair with Chucky on his lap; bouncing the little smiling man up and down on his knee, while he hugged him tight. “I missed you so much, Chucky! Are they treating you ok? Do they feed you?”. He looked at Hank who was laughing at the scene. “You know, he likes his eggs sunny side up. And you need to make sure he doesn’t drink diet coke. It upsets his tummy”. Letty had showed up while she was getting ready, and was seated by the bar nursing a coke; Coco hovering over her, and giving any Son who looked in her direction a death-glare. Leticia was wearing a turtleneck, as she’d been told. The fact that it was a crop-top didn’t seem to matter to her.

Nina pulled at Angel’s cut to make him lean his ear down to her lips. “I’m gonna go spend some time with my other family, before VM rolls in, and I have to pretend not to know them”, she said. “Please don’t get all macho again”. “Can’t promise anything”, Angel said, and placed a possessive kiss on her neck. She pushed him away, and went to sit down with her brothers. After taking a chair between Rat and Happy, Ratboy gestured at her neck. “You got a little something…”, he smirked. Letty jumped off her chair, and handed Nina a pocket mirror, to examine the hickey Angel had left there, just below the one he’d made the day before. “Shit. What are you; 13?”, she growled at Angel. He smiled smugly, and grabbed a beer, before going over to stand by EZ.

Rat gave Letty a shy once-over, and Nina patted his arm. “Don’t… Her dad was a sniper in Iraq”, she muttered. Letty smiled at Rat, before going back to the bar. “That’s her father?”, Rat whispered, and looked at Coco. “Yup…”, Nina replied. Coco took a huff of his smoke, and leaned against the bar; moving his cut so that his gun was visible. Rat swallowed thickly, and moved his focus back to his beer.

Happy elbowed her softly, and pulled out his phone, to show her a picture on the screen. “Wendy checked in”, he said. The picture was of Thomas with his face covered in chocolate. Abel was running in the background, wielding a supersoaker. Nina let out a soft sigh. “God, that kid looks like Jax”, she said. “Which one?”, Happy grunted. Nina chuckled sadly, and the biker put an arm around her. “Yeah… I know”.

“So, you’re coming back with us, right?”, Tig asked; having finally let Chucky go. “No, she isn’t…”, Filip said, having appeared at the table with a glass of scotch in hand. “What?”, Happy said, his expression suddenly angry. Filip sat down, and Bishop pulled up a chair next to him. The two presidents gave each other a knowing but hard look. “It seems our Nina has sold herself into servitude”, Filip said. Tig leaned forward and shook his head. “Nah… Nuh uh. What the fuck is this shit?”, he said. “She’s not some piece of ass for you to…”. “Relax, Trager. It’s not like that”, Bishop said. “Then tell us what it is!”, Quinn said. Filip gestured for Bishop to continue, an irritated but defeated expression on his face. “As you know, Vatos Malditos are coming to Santo Padre. They’re going to offer us money to help them search for Nina”, Bishop said. “You told them…?”, Tig roared.

The Sons jumped to their feet, hands on their weapons. The Mayans responded in kind, and it seemed that what had just been a nice get together, now was about to turn in to a massacre. Letty and Chucky dove behind the bar, and Nina got on her feet. She grabbed Filip’s glass, and flung it at the wall; smashing it into a thousand pieces. “Enough!”, she roared. “Fuck! It’s like dealing with overgrown children…”. She scowled deeply at all the men. “Sit your asses down, and listen!”. “Yeah, fucking listen!”, Creeper growled. Nina drew her lips back in a snarl. “Shut the fuck up, Creep; or I’ll superglue your dick to your balls!”. Creep looked dumbstruck. “Are you gonna let your girl talk to me like that, brother?”, he asked Angel. “Fuck, yeah”, Angel said. “Oh, and you and me are in the cage tonight”. Creeper sat down, cursing bellow his breath.

Once everyone was seated, and more or less calm, Bishop continued. “You know how it is… We can’t risk money and potential war for an outsider. You wouldn’t either…”. “I’m staying here, working for San Pad for a year”, Nina explained. “That way, the Mayans couldn’t hand me over, even if they wanted to. It would be against their rules, because I’ll be a part of the family here”. “And we’re supposed to trust that they won’t do it anyway… Why?”, Happy asked. “Because Nina does…”, Filip said, giving her a meaningful look. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do; but as it is, I don’t see another way out. We brought our girl down here; put her in the care of not just another charter, but another club all together. I blame myself… But this is a better solution than all-out war”. The Sons all shared angry and defeated glances. “And after her year is over?”, Tig asked. “That’ll be up to Nina”, Bishop said. “She does good work around here. If she wants to stay…”. “Niña is family”, Coco said, getting concurring nods from the rest of the Mayans. Filip got to his feet. “We’ll deal with that 12 months from now. But you better treat her like a fucking queen, or we will come back down here, and burn this shit-hole to the ground”, he said. “I need a new drink”.

---

A few hours later, after Bishop had explained the plan of letting Nina disappear into the crowd to SAMCRO, the first guests began arriving. Nina rushed around, dealing out orders to the hangarounds who were going to take care of the guests that night. She was overseeing the setting up of the sound equipment outside the clubhouse, while simultaneously refilling the bar set up by the porch. Daniella had decided to show up, in spite of Angel’s rejection. She kept to herself; once in a while sharing some words with some of the other guests. Angel didn’t pay her any attention, though not for her not trying to catch it.

Suddenly, there was a roar of bikes coming up the driveway. Nina instantly froze in place, only to move again, when EZ came up to her, and pulled at her wrist. “You good?”, he said. “Is it them?”, she whispered. EZ looked towards the incoming bikers, and nodded slightly. Nina let out a slight gasp. She turned around, and saw a group of men dressed in denim cuts; none of them looking friendly. They got off their bikes and walked up to greet Bishop, and Filip; who’d followed him outside. The Mayans and the Sons all took their places on the porch, each with their own faction. The leader of the group stepped forwards. He was a brusque and serious looking man, with a long braid down his back. His eyes were cold, and she recognized the family resemblance to Gael. El Palo.

Angel shot her a short look, before looking at EZ. His eyes would have seemed indifferent to anyone else, but Nina could see what he was saying. We got this, querida; and; take care of her, brother. “They’re just gonna stare each other down a bit”, EZ said, trying to calm her. Nina nodded slightly, but was unable to control her breath. It was like someone had a vice-grip on her lungs. EZ looked down at her, and frowned slightly. “I need…”, she heaved. “Time to disappear”, he muttered. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, as if they were about to find a quiet corner together, he led her towards the trailer. Most of the people around them ignored them. It was perfectly normal for couples to get a bit frisky, and needing to release some steam at these kinds of parties. They passed a group of women chattering excitedly. Daniella was among them, and smirked when she saw EZ’s grip on Nina.

As soon as he’d opened the door, Nina stumbled inside the trailer, and grabbed her inhaler from the table. In her shaking state, she dropped it on the floor, and EZ picked it up, handing it to her. She took a hit, and felt her lungs relax. “I’m sorry”, she panted. EZ put a calming hand on her shoulder, and smiled. “You’re ok”, he said. “Just breathe”. Nina took a few deep breaths, and put her forehead on his shoulder. “Thanks”, she said. “Is one brother not enough for you?”. Daniella was standing outside the open door. Nina scowled at her, but didn’t reply; still too wound up to be able to form a proper comeback. Ezekiel went down to face Daniella, and stared her down. “If you wanna stay, behave”, he said. “Otherwise, get the fuck out”. Nina put down her inhaler on the table, and walked outside; closing the door behind her. EZ put his arm around her shoulders again. “Puta…”, Daniella mouthed. Nina shot her the middle finger, and let EZ lead her away.

The staredown seemed to be over, and all three clubs had scattered to enjoy the party. ��I have to go take care of the grill”, EZ said. “Will you be ok?”. “Yeah…”, Nina lied. He squeezed her shoulder, and left her to go tend to his job.

She stood for a long moment, looking over the frivolities. Happy and Gilly were looking on, as Angel revved the engine of his bike by the gate separating the scrapyard from the clubhouse area. The Son looked impressed, and let a pretty girl crawl under his arm, and press against him. Hank was studying the tattoo on the arm of a VM. Coco was pulling Letty off a table, where’s she’d been dancing. Nina made eye contact with Filip for a second, and he winked at her quickly, before going back to nursing his beer, and the gorgeous brunette on his lap.

She went up the steps to the porch, and opened the door to the clubhouse, to go inside; when she bumped straight in to a denim-clad chest. “Perdóneme…”, a raspy voice said. She looked up, and locked eyes with a Vato, with inquisitive and cold eyes. She parted her lips – unable to speak – and let out a short, nervous breath. “Let me get this for you”, he said, and held the door open for her. “Thanks…”, she muttered, and walked by him as calmly as she could. Taza was seated by the bar, and when he saw her expression, his eyes flickered for a moment, looking at the VM-biker. “Yo, sweetheart. Get me a beer, would you?”, he called out. “Uh huh”, Nina croaked, and slipped behind the bar as fast as she could. She grabbed a Sol from the fridge, and placed it in front of the VP. Sala disappeared off to somewhere. “You’re doing good, kid”, Taza said quietly. She nodded, and tried to smile.

Tig joined them at the bar, and looked in the bowl of apricots. “I see you’ve let Nina take care of the snacks…”, he chuckled; while looking around to check that none of the VM who were spread around the room were listening. “You have so much to learn”. Taza patted his shoulder. “Educate me, brother”, he smiled. Nina handed Tig a beer, and wiped down the bar, as the two men began sharing stories. After a few shots with the VP's, she felt about as embarrassed as EZ must have felt, after Felipe had told her the story of how he wet himself on the Ferris wheel at a state fair. “… I’m telling you, Taza. Her face was as green as the absinth-liqueur she’d been drinking; and she was dancing on the bar to the national anthem”, Tig said. Taza roared with laughter. “Happy and I had to carry her to bed; and we came back to check on her, she’d snuck out the window of the dorm – the door was unlocked, mind you – and she was running around the lot demanding piggyback-rides from every patch in presence”. Nina cleared her throat. “I think I’m gonna go check on the bar outside”, she said. “Aw, am I embarrassing you, muffin?”, Tig said. “Yes”, Nina said shortly, and shot both men a smile, before grabbing a case of beer, and walking towards the door.

One the porch, she was met by the Vato she’d bumped in to earlier. He gave her unpleasantly leering once-over, before reaching for the case in her arms. “Let me help you", he said. “You don’t have to do that”, she replied. “I insist”, he said, and took the case from her. Nina gave him a polite smile, and gestured towards the bar by the garage. “I’m Sala”. “It’s over here”, she said, avoiding giving him her name. She was just a random hangaround, she kept reminding herself; no one special. She walked ahead of him, not wanting to make it seem like she was interested in having a conversation. Once they arrived at the fridge set up behind the table set up as a makeshift bar, Sala set down the case. She nodded at him. “I can take it from here”, she said, and went to open the fridge. The biker grabbed her arm, and made her turn around; getting a little too close for comfort. “Have someone else do it. Let’s go somewhere private…”, he smirked. “No thanks”, Nina croaked, and pulled her arm from his grasp; backing away. “I don’t think my…”. She didn’t know how to label Angel; it was still too fresh. “I’m here with someone else”. Sala frowned teasingly. “Come on…”, he said, and took a step towards her again. “You look like you like to have fun…”.

“Hey, mami. How are you doing?”, Angel said from behind her; placing his arm protectively around her waist. Nina almost gasped in relief. Happy came up next to them, giving the VM-biker his trademark stink-eye. “This your girl, Reyes?”, Sala said. “Yeah, is she?”, Happy said, looking towards Angel for a split second; and took a sip of his beer. Angel tucked Nina into his side. “Yeah… she is”, he said. “Want to make something of it, carnal?”, he asked Sala. A smile ghosted Happy’s face, and he met Nina’s eyes; nodding shortly. “Sala!”, someone barked from across the lot. Palo had been observing the interaction, a displeased scowl on his face. He nodded his head for Sala to come join him, and the Vato walked off; cursing bellow his breath.

“Thanks…”, Nina muttered. Angel looked down at her. “Ain’t nothing to thank me over”, he said. “He’s just marking his claim”, Happy said. Nina frowned. “Are you gonna pee on me next?”, she grunted. Angel winced. “Don’t tell me you’re in to that shit…”, he said. “That’s nasty”. Happy laughed, and patted Angel’s shoulder; before walking over to join Quinn at a card-game he had going on.

Nina pulled out of Angel’s grasp, and went to fill the fridge. He came up behind her, and grabbed her hips; kissing the back of her neck. “You know you’re not the only one here to do this shit, right?”. “Just keeping busy”, she muttered. “It’s a party. Try to have some fun", he said. “I have to finish this…”. “You have to look like you’re enjoying yourself". He turned her around, and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “You’re tense as fuck…”. She sighed deeply, and put her forehead against his chest. Angel waved for a female hangaround to come take over; before taking Nina’s hand, and pulling her with him, to go sit on the steps to the porch.

By the looks of it, everyone around them were having fun, but Nina found it hard to get into a partying spirit. She looked over at a table by the garage, where Bishop was deep in conversation with Filip. Palo came over to join them. They all nodded at each other, and the conversation continued with the VM president adding his inputs. Angel noticed Nina looking at them. “You afraid?”, he asked. “Only as much as the next possible murder-victim”, she muttered. He put an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. His other hand went to her knee, and he let his fingertips draw small circles on the inside of it. “I know something that might relax you…”. She began to feel her cheeks burning, and bit her lip. “What’s that?”, she asked. He squeezed her thigh, and put his soft lips to her ear. “Watching me fuck up Creeper in that cage…”, he smiled. Nina let out a wanton sigh. “God, yes…”, she breathed.

Angel chuckled, and got up; giving her a hand to stand up herself. “Creep!”, he called out to the other Mayan. His tongue was down the throat of the red-head Coco had had some trouble getting rid of the week before. He pulled back, and looked at Angel. “What, brother?”, he asked. “It’s time”, Angel replied. Creeper gave the ginger one last kiss, and made his way to the cage. Angel went in the same direction, his arm around Nina’s waist.

---

A crowd gathered around the cage, as Angel and Creeper got their hands taped up. Nina let herself be mesmerized by the sight of her bare-chested champion, who was already jittery with adrenaline. Once Riz had finished with his hands, Angel went over, and grabbed the back of her neck; pressing his lips to hers. His kiss was deep and greedy, and he had no shame in pressing his groin against her in front of the crowd. His tongue danced against hers, and he let out a wanton grunt. “Let me just take care of this motherfucker, and then we can go somewhere and finish this”, he said against her lips; and stepped away from her. Nina was surprised her knees were still carrying her, and she felt lightheaded from all of her blood running to her groin.

Once inside the cage, Angel and Creeper circled each other like two lions, until Riz called out for them to begin. Angel flew forwards at the flash of an eye, and slammed his fist into Creeper’s face. Creeper fell backwards, and covered his mouth. Letting Angel think he was disoriented, he stumbled forwards again, and jabbed Angel in the ribs. Nina gasped at the sound, and her heart skip several beats, until Angel straightened back up, and put his arm around Creeper’s neck; continuously jabbing at his sternum. Breaking free, Creeper managed to get a hit in to Angel’s head.

As the fighting continued, Nina was caught off guard, when Palo appeared next to her. He handed her a beer. “As an apology… for my enforcer’s behavior”, he said. “Thank you”, she croaked. Palo gave her a half smile. “I’m just trying to keep him out of that cage…”, he said, and looked towards the two fighters. Angel had Creeper in a headlock. Nina chuckled nervously. “He’s strong… Your man”, Palo said. “Is he doing that for you?”. “I guess…”, Nina said, trying to avoid letting her voice shake too much. Angel looked up at her with a smile; but when he saw Palo, his eyes went cold. Creeper began tapping his arm, to forfeit; but Angel didn’t seem to notice, and only held on harder. Nina’s eyes widened in fear. “Angel! He’s tapping out, man!”, Riz called out. Angel was pulled out of his trance, and immediately let go of Creeper, who fell forwards, gasping for air. “I’ll leave you to it”, Palo said, and walked away.

Riz proclaimed Angel the winner, and he and Creeper hugged. They walked out of the cage together, and came over to Nina. “Are we good, Nina?”, Creeper panted. “Yeah. We’re good, Creep”, she said with a slight smile, and stepped forwards to pat his shoulder. Creeper winced at the touch, blew out a deep breath, and let himself be led away by the readhead, to be pampered.

Angel looked in the direction Palo had gone. “Everything ok?”, he asked. “Yeah, I think so”, Nina muttered. “He was apologizing for that thing from before, with that Vato”. “Huh”, Angel said, before turning to accept a towel from Riz. He had a small cut over his eyebrow, and his ribs were bruised. Nina stroked her fingertips over the mark, and Angel winced a bit. “Are you ok?”, she asked. “I’m good, querida. Don’t worry about it”, Angel replied, and kissed her temple. The scent of his adrenaline-fused sweat and his cologne hit Nina’s nose then, and she let out a soft moan. He smirked down at her. “Who’s the horny little shit, now…? Got something you need, cuervo?”. She bit her lip to keep from grinning, and got on her toes to kiss him deeply; making it very obvious what, in fact, she needed. Angel grabbed his shirt and his cut, and put his arm around her, letting his hand rest on her bottom; before leading her towards the trailer.

They were halted in their tracks, by a whistle. “That was some stellar fighting, brother”, someone called out to them in a Scottish drawl. Nina groaned, and looked over her shoulder disgruntledly at Filip; who was nursing a bottle of Jameson with Tig, Bishop, Sala, and Palo. “Thanks, man”, Angel replied. “Have a seat”, Filip said, and gestured for a chair next to him. Angel shot him a displeased smile, and led Nina over to the group. In spite of her disappointed expression, he put on his shirt and cut again; and sat down next to Filip. Tig smirked at Nina. “Aw, looks like we ran out of chairs. I got a lap right here for you, sweetheart…”. He patted his thighs, his eyes full of mischief. “I have a feeling you’re a dirty old man”, Nina replied, and raised a knowing brow at Tig. “You don’t know the half of it”, he said, and reached out his hand to shake hers. She did actually know much more than she wanted to, but held her tongue. Tig was as dirty as they came, but since hooking up with Venus a few years back, he’d mended his ways somewhat. “Tig Trager”, he introduced himself; keeping up the ruse of not knowing who she was. “And you are?”. “Not interested”, Angel said, and pulled Nina down to sit on his lap.

“You want to be careful with this one, mano”, Sala said. “He’s possessive of his girl”. “Good”, Filip said. “A man should take care of his woman”. Angel nodded shortly at him, and wrapped his arms around Nina’s waist, as she sat sideways on his thighs. Planting a soft kiss on her shoulder, he then accepted a beer from a passing hangaround. Nina looked up at her, and saw that it was Daniella; a fake smile plastered over her face. “Anything for you?”, she asked Nina. “Scotch…”, she replied. “That, I can help with”, Filip said, and got a glass from the table, filling it, and handing it to Nina. “Chibs Telford”, he said. Nina nodded, and took the glass. Daniella had an ugly sneer on her face for a second, before leaving them to it; giving Sala a view of her butt as she passed him. “Mami, get me another cold one”, he said. “Coming right up”, Daniella smiled at him, and moved towards the bar.

Bishop cleared his throat. “Palo was just telling us about a situation up north”, he said. Nina focused on running her nails through Angel’s hair. She was there as arm candy, not to listen; and she needed to keep up her ruse. “Business?”, Angel asked. “Yes… for you”, Palo said. “For me, it’s personal”. “Never good to mix the two”, Filip said. “Maybe not; but in this case, I’m willing to make an exception”, Palo grunted. “Esto se trata de la familia. I know Alvarez is your primo, Obispo; but I don’t trust him and Oakland with this anymore”. There was a pregnant silence, before Bishop spoke again. “As far as I know, Marcus is keeping his end of your deal. He’s been reaching out to all our charters, to find this woman…”. “This whore, shot my cousin down in cold blood!”, Palo growled. “Then she left him behind in a dirty alley to die alone. I want her dead!”.

A shudder went through Nina’s body. “Are you cold?”, Angel asked, trying to cover for her. She shrugged and nodded; and Angel pulled her closer to his chest. He put his lips to her ear, as if he was kissing her. “Breathe, querida”, he whispered, and squeezed her thigh gently; before taking a sip of his beer. “Didn’t she shoot him in the head?”, he said to Palo. Nina’s heart skipped several beats. “What are you saying?”, Bishop asked, his voice warning in its tone. Angel shrugged. “Just that if she shot him in the head…”. He pointed at his temple. “… he was probably dead the second the bullet hit… So, it’s not like he bled out alone on the ground…”. Nina wanted to scream; please shut your himbo mouth!; but, once again, held her tongue. “How does that change the situation?”, Sala asked. “Whoever shot him, didn’t want him to suffer… They were probably just trying to save themselves… Your cousin had reputation of being a bit rough with his women, is what I heard”, Angel replied. Nina hadn’t heard about this before, and was beginning to wonder if Angel had been asking around about Gael, to help her in some way. “Or mug him”, Palo said, obviously indifferent to his cousin’s reputation with women. This seemed odd to Nina, after how he’d handled her situation with Sala.

“Was anything stolen?”, Filip asked. Something cold ghosted Palo’s face, making him even more terrifying. “No… Nothing seemed to be missing from his body”, he said. “The puta did leave something behind, though”, Sala said. He grabbed the beer Daniella sauntered over to give him, before running his hand up her thigh. She smiled sweetly at him, taking it as her que to take a seat on his lap. He took a sip of his beer, and looked down her cleavage; seemingly satisfied with his catch of the evening, now that he couldn’t have Nina. “An inhaler…”, Palo said. “Was there a name on it?”, Tig asked. “No… But we know she used a .38”. “Those are some pretty weak leads”, Filip said. “Perhaps. But it’s something. And I’m going to use it to track her down… With your help”.

“What is it you want us to do? This happened in northern Cali", Bishop said. “I suspect she’s moving towards the border, trying to get across somehow, to avoid police investigation", Palo said. “As I understand it, your charter has been known to find ways to cross over with goods, without suspicion from authorities”. “What are you trying to say? That we helped her cross, in spite if your deal with El Padrino?”, Bishop said. “My deal is with Oakland", Palo said. “Different charter, same club", Tig said. “From our experience, Mayans are loyal to their brother-charters deals. They back each other". Palo looked at him with a scowl. “Maybe so…”. He turned his head towards Bishop. “I meant no disrespect. I am sure you back your brothers up north. “The same brothers you are saying you don’t trust", Bishop said. “That’s disrespect in itself".

Palo folded his hands, and smiled congenially. “Maybe we can rebuild that trust right now".

---

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #coco cruz #ez reyes #chibs telford #sons of anarchy

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literary-spirit · 3 years

Text

Bonnie Bennett believed she'd finally discovered her good enough ending. Yet, like most things in her life good enough goes left and leaves her with another ending. Or, perhaps a fire beginning...Journey with everyone's favorite Bennett Witch to the Viking Era for much needed lessons in devotion, courtesy the Lothbrok brothers.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

AN: Alright Bennett Fandom this one here is a bit different from what you're used to. Okay this one here is a bit different than I'm used to. Francesca has recently rediscovered Vikings and with it the sons of Ragnar. And don't you know she wouldn't rest until she brought our favorite Bennett Witch into their mess! As if our girl didn't already have her own problems. SMFH! So thanks to my lovely muse, here we are with a whole lot of trifling savagery that I'm just not so sure about. But as always I'll let you be the judge if this WIP lives to see another update. Flame it or acclaim it in comments.

“You know as much as I’ve savored the joy of tormenting you over the years-,” Klaus began.

“No,” Bonnie shook her head. She’d tried to go along with his final request. Really she did, but how could she? When in the end all he’d be was gone. “I’m sorry, bae. We’re not doing this.”

Rebekah’s eyes rolled. She released a drawn out exhale that hadn’t been necessary for her since wood ash and pointed stick tattoos were a thing. “Bonnie, don’t ruin this for him! Permit him whatever comfort he demands. He shoulders a burden you’d never be able to fathom. Can you not allow him to experience but one moment of grace? A moment Hope will undoubtedly cling to after he’s gone.”

“No, Rebekah! I’m not about to listen as the man I love gives us all a corny goodbye and pretend to be okay with it. And why the hell should Hope have a moment to cling to when she could have her father?” She gave her head another firm shake. “No, this is not okay with me,” her voice rose as she drilled visual holes through each of them. Klaus tried to shut her down with an arm around the shoulders but she curved him with a shrug, all while committing ocular homicide on him in the process. “So why the hell is it okay with you, Hybrid?” Her scorn riddled gaze darted from him back to his so called family. “Or any of you?”

“You must’ve been down on Bourbon sipping on that Absinthe again if you believe any of this shit is okay with us,” Marcel waved her off barely sparing her a glance. “We all just know Klaus is gonna do whatever Klaus wants no matter how any of us feels about it. The most dangerous place you can be when his mind’s made up is in his way. So I suggest you step out of it.”

Her neck snapped back as if she’d taken a two piece to the chin. “You think I’m afraid of the big bad wolf? I wasn’t at seventeen and if I thought for a second it would save him, I’d put his ass back in the dirt again. I take care of my own, Marcel. No matter the dangers or consequences,” she jabbed a thumb at her hybrid, “And make no mistake, that Original pain in the ass over there is mine.”

“Cute.” Marcel laughed as he rubbed at the corners of his mouth. “Bonnie, we’re his family. Each of us have known, feared, hated, respected, and loved him long before even your parents’ parents became an idea. Hell, even after everything he’s dragged me through, there’s not a drop of blood I wouldn’t bleed for him.”

“Then stand behind those words and do something, Marcel,” she pleaded, because at this point she wasn’t above begging for the only bright spot remaining in the dim bleakness that had become her life seven years before.

“What would you have us do, Bonnie?” Elijah questioned in a barely engaged tone.

Bonnie turned to consider him. A perpetual moroseness now cloaked the one she’d once believed to be noble. His arrogance hadn’t been quite the same since the restoration of his memories. More and more he’d begun to remind her of Finn. She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. Since discovering what Klaus planned to do, she’d toyed with an idea she’d vowed never to indulge. Yet, under the weight of impossible desperation such vows could not stand.

“The eternal witch spell should be evoked,” she said.

“By whom?” Kol questioned. His chocolate browns moved from Freya to Hope. When both appeared to know less than him his disbelieving gawk returned to her. “You?!” Laughter burst from his mouth. “Oh Darling, I’ve witnessed that spell make a supernatural mess of the most talented witches to ever recite a chant. There’s only one destined to master the eternal witch incantation and her sorcery is said to be unmatched.” His knowing gaze drifted to Hope, and then back to her. “There’s no way you’re powerful enough to undertake the task. You’re not even the strongest witch on this block.”

Bonnie flinched. Damn it, if Kol hadn’t DOA’ed her pride. When the hell did he jump on the Bennett hate train? To hear how far his opinion of her plummeted sort of burned.

She nodded. “Okay, if not me why not Davina. You tend to enjoy blowing her horn. If she’s all you claim her to be, get her here. I’ll happily bow down if her being greater than me will save him.” She jerked her head in Klaus’ direction.

“No!” Marcel barked.

“Leave my wife out of this.” Kol zipped across the distance separating them to tower over her. His original face no longer concealed by his human deception.

Klaus rocketed forward to place himself between she and Kol. “Step away from my fiancé, baby brother. For if you harm her then you’ll be joining me in the afterlife. To hell with your bloody dagger and box.”

Ignoring Kol’s and Klaus’ dagger and the box bit, her distressed stare collided with Freya’s. “What about you? Will you help me save your brother?”

“Bonnie, that spell is much too dangerous. Even for me.” The blondes eyes offered her a thousand apologies but not one solution. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it…not now.”

Her desperation bottomed out to despair as her gaze took a hail Mary launch to the supposedly most powerful witch in the room. “Hope?”

The room erupted. You’d think she’d offered the girl a crack pipe. When she was Hope’s age she was taking down well…her dad.

“Bonnie!” Elijah yelled.

“This is madness,” Rebekah growled, taking a step in their direction. “Nik tell her!”

“We’ve already talked about this, Bekah.” Marcel shook his head and tugged Rebekah back to his side. “That doesn’t concern us.” Bonnie heard Marcel mutter.

Klaus spun away from Kol to regard her. He grabbed her face and cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Everything’s going to be alright, Love.” He whispered, before brushing his lips against hers. Liquid pain disturbed the stillness of his crystal blue stare and contradicted the hell out of his reassurance.

“How?” She tugged herself free of his grasp. “How’s everything going to be alright? You’ll be dead and then what? Life goes on? Fuck that! I’m not about to stand here and mourn a defeat I haven’t loss yet!” She whirled away and marched from the gathering. Her decision made.

Once out of sight, she hurried towards their bedroom. Inside, she closed the door and locked it. The barrier wouldn’t hold her hybrid, but the fraction of time it would provide may be all she needed to complete the spell. She fell to her knees next to the mattress. Carefully, she tugged the blanket from underneath the bed. The already prepared altar and ingredients slid out. She stared down at the athamae and exhaled. Second thoughts plagued her mental, but she shook them away. She’d come this far already. The time to bitch up and forget about it had come and gone. Now was the time to do and die, literally.

She picked up the dagger and called forth every ounce of mystical energy which bled through her veins. A swell of Bennett sorcery overwhelmed the room. Pictures rattled on the walls. The balcony doors blew open and the glass shattered. Furniture not nailed down whipped about the room like she’d caught a ride in a tornado. Steeling her nerves, she continued. She called forth her psychic energy, her huntress energy. Any and everything supernatural about her she offered to the Goddess of all in exchange for an eternity of knowledge and the fated eternal mate destined to help her defeat the Hollow.

After relinquishing her all to the Creator she sliced open her palm. Blood gushed from the wound and saturated the ingredients. A searing light illuminated the room. The bargain was struck and accepted. Now the sacrifice. She swallowed and raised the blade. Aiming it at the center of her chest, she closed her eyes.

“Bonnie, no!” Klaus’ voice penetrated the white noise blaring throughout the room. “Love, don’t do this. You won’t survive.”

She opened her eyes. He stood just beyond the enchantment circle, attempting to force his way into the barrier. “Neither will you if I don’t. Besides, if it doesn’t work I’d rather be in the ground anyway than breathe without you, Klaus.”

“Bonnie, please,” he pled as he dropped to his knees. He slammed his fist against the barrier. “Please, don’t do this. We’ll find another way. You have my word, Love!”

A sad smile flirted with her lips. “You’re lying, Klaus. If there was another way then it would already be the plan.” She plunged the blade into the cradle of her breasts. A piercing burn penetrated her chest.

“No!” Klaus’ bellow seared layers from her punctured heart. The storm of mystical energy whipping about ceased.

Her knees buckled. Klaus caught her before the ground could and cuddled her close. She attempted to talk, but a wheeze whistled pass her lips instead.

“No, Love, don’t speak.” He bit into his wrist and placed the bleeding extremity to her mouth. His blood might as well had been battery acid because she’d bet dollars to air it burned the same. Hacking coughs damn near shook her frame apart by the joints. “Why the sodding hell isn’t this working?”

“I-It’s the s-spell,” she managed to utter. “M-my death is the p-price of a-admission.”

Tears trickled from his eyes onto her face. “Why did I have to go and love you, Little Witch?” He demanded, looking beyond confused.

“B-Because its what we b-both needed at the time and no m-matter how this turns out I’ll always be indebted to you for giving me a reason. L-Love you, Hybrid…always and f-forever.” His face faded until nothing but darkness surrounded her.

Chapter 1

The abyss gave way to blinding lights. Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut. A cacophony of sounds battered her auditory senses. The eardrum rupturing racket nearly distracted her from the violent rocking motion. A violent rocking motion which would no doubt wrought absolute fuckery on her cyclic vomiting syndrome. Right along with the tang of salt-water, unwashed bodies, and rotten fish. The potpourri of funk came close to singeing the lining of her nostrils.

A familiar acrid burn tickled the back of her throat. On cue her belly spun a series of gold medal winning somersaults. Oh this was going to happen. Her lack of sight heightened her senses and made her that much more sensitive to all the upchuck factors swirling about her. Unable to continue to live in the darkest part of her denial and remain vomit free, she opened her eyes. The brightest day she'd ever had to tolerate greeted her light discriminating gaze. She closed her eyes once more. What in the extreme fuck? Was this some kind of hell dimension? Is that why she was only a five minute drive away from the damn sun? Oh Goddess no!

"Cade?!" She growled.

The acrid burn that flirted with the back of her throat developed a sour chunky consistency. Once again she forced her eyes open...and blinked. She was on a vessel that appeared to have hailed straight out of Vikings. Damning the unnecessary brightness and her afterlife in general, she turned and tossed up the entire contents of her stomach over the boats edge. The seafood gumbo from Rousseau's she loved nearly as much as Klaus shot from her mouth and floated one way while the wind and Hades' cruiser sailed her in another.

As gravity took her down exhaustion fucked her over. She rested her cheek on the boat's wooden ledge. Drops of putrid salt water splashed her face. Yet, her fucks to give was at a negative zero low. Not only was she dead, but more than likely so was Klaus. She'd failed him...she'd failed them. Not even eternity would be long enough to make that shit okay.

Bonnie's vision blurred. Her chest throbbed. She clawed at the pounding ache between her breasts. Goddess, it's a wonder her chest didn't have a gaping hole in it after everything her heart had lost. Shaking her latest failure from her thoughts, she turned to slouch back to the boat's floor. She then lifted her gaze to assess her surroundings. Various shades of irises gawked back at her. She froze. Oh damn! Just her luck the water was sacred. She opened her mouth to offer an apology, but snapped it closed. Wait...why the hell did everyone look like extras from the Last Kingdom?

Slowly, her gaze dropped from the filthy hairy men towering over her to what she wore. The burlap sack dress she donned stopped her ever ticking clock. And based on the breeze cooling her cakes, her La Perla's had opted to skip the journey to the other side. Her back teeth clenched. In what kind of after life had she been dropped? Was this some kind of Viking hell? Had she somehow been granted eternity with Klaus in his hereafter?

The shifting of bodies snaked her attention from Kanye's spring wear to the now parting beefy men. A sight which had her questioning her sanity emerged. Bjorn Lothbrok or at any rate the actor who portrayed him in Vikings. Was he dead and stuck on the Otherside also? Wait, was Alexander Ludwig even supernatural?

"You're not one of the slaves who was captured during the raid. One of your hue, I would've remembered." The head Viking in charge edge that resonated in Bjorn's or Alexander's voice snatched her from her contemplations. "How've you come to be upon this ship?" When she opened her mouth to speak the cold sharpened point of a sword pierced the hollow of her throat. "Speak to me of canards or sagas and I shall open your gullet."

She hesitated for a moment. What could she say? The truth would definitely get her neck split wide. "I-I'm not sure. Before...when I closed my eyes, I was somewhere else and now that I've opened them, I'm..." she glanced from the horror frozen faces of the crewmen to the beyond frightened slaves. The poor shackled souls huddled away from her in the ship crevices and corners on either side of her. She swallowed and allowed her gaze to return to Bjorn. "I'm here."

"Oh my god," she heard one of the slaves mutter in a tone that, to her surprise, sounded annoyed?

His scoff sliced the disbelief inspired silence in half. He withdrew the biting tip of his sword from her throat and sheathed it in the scabbard at his side. "Bind her hands to her feet and toss her over."

The ship erupted in a flurry of movement. Two overfed red-haired and even redder faced Viking men moved to grab her. She nearly projectile vomited her heart from her mouth.

"I know what I'm saying sounds apeshit, but I swear on everything I love, Alexander," she said slowly uttering the name and searching his face for a flare of recognition. When nothing sparked in his expression she stammered on, "I-I'm telling the truth. Please, you have to believe me, Bjorn!" A flicker of curiosity narrowed his glare. Bingo! "You can't let them kill me! Please, I don't wanna die again!"

"Halt!" He bellowed, raising a hand to stop the men from advancing, "How've you come to know of my name?"

Shit! She pressed her lips together as her mind flipped through a too short list of plausible explanations that wouldn't get her burned at a stake for witchcraft. "I-I've dreamt of you a-and of this moment." There, that didn't sound too bad. One thing she'd learned from Klaus, watching Vikings, and Google, is ancient Northman actually revered oracles and seers.

"You've dreamt of me?" He knelt before her, arresting her stare with a penetratingly incandescent blue gaze. At a deliberate methodical pace, his eyes crept over her face. Her lungs threatened to collapse under the thorough scrutiny. "Of this moment?" Unable to look anywhere other than in the irises that burned brighter than the now blazing sun, her head bobbed. A smile enticed the corners of his mouth. "Then why fear what you know will follow? Have you not prepared well to meet your fate?"

"Not if my fate resides at the bottom of the ocean," she said with a firm shake of the head, "That's an introduction I'd like to cur—avoid indefinitely."

His head tilted just so as he continued to regard her. "Name yourself."

"Bonnie Bennett," she answered.

A golden brow lifted. "Bonnie Bennett of where?"

"New-M-Mystic Falls...Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

"I have never heard of a land with such a name," he huddled a bit closer to her, "in which direction does your homeland lie?"

Before she could answer, thick gun metal gray clouds rolled across the azure sky and swallowed the glaring sun. A sonic boom exploded somewhere in the distance, while blue streaks of lightening zigzagged its way through the stodgy swirls of gloom. And if the situation wasn't already atom splitting serious, fat drops of rain and hail the size of golf balls began to pelt them.

"This storm is unnatural!" A seaman yelled.

"What in the name of Odin will become of us? None of us shall discover the gates of Valhalla at the bottom of the sea!" A ruddy face old man with a scraggly beard roared at anyone who appeared to be listening.

Another much younger seaman, maybe a little older than herself, turned an anxious stare on Bjorn. "Do you believe the All Father has forsaken us, Ironside?"

Bjorn opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a blonde slave girl who pointed a finger in her direction, "It's her! Her very presence displeases the gods. You should heave her over and pray the sacrifice appeases them."

"You sound dumb as hell! It's no wonder you're in chains," Bonnie snapped, regretting her words as soon as they left her lips. Stupidity had nothing to do with forced captivity. Yet, that bitch had some damn nerve.

"No one will be heaving anyone over," Bjorn said, while standing from his crouch, "Raise the sails and provide the slaves with pails so they may began dumping water from the ship's floor."

A surge of magic thickened the air. The foreign sorcery incited something within her. Something unfamiliar. A bucket was pushed in her face. She took the wooden pail without looking away from the sea. The very stench of alien witchery agitated her own strange mystical energy. The fiery heat of her somehow altered super charged power practically scorched the inner lining of her veins as it raced through her vessels. Who would dare interrupt the supernatural and natural balance on this scale without justification? It was like using a heat seeking missile to take out a mosquito. Un-fucking-called for!

Instead of allowing the now aggressive powers within her the retribution it sought, she settled just to keep the occupants on the ship safe. So, while she dumped water from the boat's floor, she chanted under her breath. Soon, a protective shield formed around them in an elusive form of the previous sunny day. The Vikings and slaves alike erupted in praises to Odin.

"Yep," Bonnie forced a smile. "Praise Odin!"

"Come, Mystical One," Bjorn stood over her, his shadow casting her much needed shade.

Distrust and her impromptu guest starring role on a show which highlighted the fact that Vikings had no problems raping captives, raised her guards. Though realms out of her element, she was far from ignorant.

Her gaze moved over him in an attempt to size him up. "Where?"

"To the prow," He gestured towards the front of the ship before snatching the pail from her hands, and then tossing it aside. "I wish to learn more about you and this numinous land named Mystic Falls." When she took too long to follow he locked his hands behind his back and considered her. "If I wanted to lie with you then all I need do is have you. Do you believe anyone here would be minded to protect you?"

She lifted her chin as she glanced about the ship to see not one person watching them for concern purposes. Every eye she caught on them looked to be pre-historic Shade Room and TMZ reporters. If they had tea kettles back then they'd no doubt be ready to spill the damn things. No, Bjorn spoke the truth. No one on that confoundingly long boat would lift a calloused palm to help her.

"Alright." Exhaling, she stood and leveled him with a glare even a PMS'ing demon would be incapable of exacting. "But fair warning, no one on this ship can protect me better than me. And make no mistake, I'm not above defending my own honor."

He reached out and took her hand in his. "That is a certainty about you of which I'll never be mistaken, Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

#bonniebennett #vampirediaries #the originals #crossover #alternate universe #fanfiction #ivar the boneless #bjorn ironside #hvitserk #sigurd #ubbe lothbrok #vikings #time travel

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

Hokan’yc

A RESOL’NARE FLASHBACK ONE SHOT

A/N: This is long overdue and something I started working on WEEKS ago when @darkmist111 asked a question regarding Din and Navina’s former relationships. I mentioned a girl named Aashi that Din fell for when he was still a teenaged mando learning how to become a warrior and decided that I needed to tell their story so we know what happened and why he’s flying solo now. This is CHOCK-FULL of my personal thoughts on what training in the covert would be like so forgive me if my HCs contradict canon and please enjoy some young mandos in love.

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Warning: violence, death, injury- they are Mandalorians you guys, This is the Way and all that jazz.

Word Count: 6k

-- -- -- --

He noticed right away.

The others did, too. They always did. It was an increasingly rare occurrence as they got older. The youngest in the covert were far more used to the sudden appearance of a new student among their numbers. Whether they’d been born a member of The Tribe or taken in as a foundling like he had, all children began combat training after their 8th birthday, so the addition of a new face- or more accurately an unfamiliar helmet- in class was anticipated, expected. But by the time they’d advanced through mid level and into the final years of their required training, newcomers were few and far between.

And they stood out. Hushed whispers of buyca circulated through the room, heads tilting in the direction of the only helmet not decorated with dings and dents.

The Instructor’s gloved hands came together in two thunderous claps to signal the start of the day’s training, the chatter in the dimly lit sparring hall dissipating as the upper level class fell in line for drills. There were no assigned rankings, the students simply using height order to determine who stood where, the tallest in the last of four rows. Third row had been his designation for years, never quite the largest or most formidable in the room. But the new addition had crowded the second row by one, the overflow meaning that he would need to step back.

Fourth row, finally, thanks to the shiny buyca.

He was welcomed to the ranks of the teenaged giants with a rough elbow from Hast, the blunt jab to the ribs serving both as a kind of jovial congratulations for moving up in the world as well as a reminder that he was still the smallest of the giants. Before he could return the gesture with a thump or smack of his own though, the Instructor's booming voice silenced both of the boys’ grunts and laughter.

“Hast! Djarin!” He flinched behind his visor and knew the broad shouldered hulk beside him did, too. Though he didn’t need to, both of them already aware of what they were in for, the Instructor pointed at the front of the room, indicating that they should join him there. “Looks like you’ve volunteered to be my demonstration assistants for today’s technique.” Dank farrik.

As he and his friend reached the front of the hall, feeling the stares of the rest of the class and knowing that under their helmets they were all biting the insides of their cheeks to keep from laughing at the misfortune the two had found themselves in, he prepared himself for a rough three hours. They’d worked on a single combat series that started with a sweep from the standing position and progressed to the ground, working on maintaining control during a fight before ending in a leg attack that when applied at full force was developed to disable the knee joint completely. Both volunteers had taken fall after fall, their limbs manipulated over and over as the Instructor demonstrated and the students got their practice in. While they were only applying light pressure as they torqued and twisted and pulled on the two volunteers’ legs, the two were left sore and aching from the repetition of the series.

If the reps and demonstrations weren’t enough, the half hour of sparring rounds afterwards certainly was.

Despite the over-torqued joints, fatigued muscles and sore spots from tight grips and unexpectedly harsh contact with the ground, he held his own for the first four rounds grappling almost as he did at full capacity. Vizsla was twice his size and always got the best of him, though still no more than usual. Hast had it just as rough as he did that day, so neither of them completed a submission during their round. He managed to sweep and submit Gralin, which was actually an improvement on their last match up, and he and Kevaz had each pulled off a submission within the allotted time of the round. Trying to control his breathing in the quick respite allowed between friendly simulated warfare, he hoped that there was still some herbal salve left in the jar back in his quarters. I’m going to need it.

His final round turned out to be the one that did him in. And it was against her- the buyca.

He, like all Mandalorians, knew that it didn’t matter if a warrior was male or female, large or small. It didn’t matter if they were quick or strong. What mattered was how well they could use the attributes and skills that they did have to defeat their opponent. He, like all Mandalorians, knew that underestimating your enemy before the fight begins is the first step in losing that fight. That’s not what he did with her, though the outcome was still the same.

The last thing he noticed as he squared off facing the newcomer, was the fact that even though she had also just finished three hours of drills and four rounds prior to that one, her helmet was still completely undented. It wasn’t even smudged. Has she even hit the ground? Mere seconds into the round he was on his back and he didn’t know how he’d gotten there, but she hadn’t let up, taking full advantage of his disorientation and finishing a very basic but extremely efficient shoulder attack. The rest of the round had been more of the same, though he was able to at least fend off any more completed submissions. By the time the Instructor called for the end of the day’s training, he was spent. But she seemed only mildly inconvenienced from the hours of physical exertion they had all just endured.

He decided right away that he had to learn what she knew.

Able to walk with far more ease than he could at the moment though, she was out of the sparring hall and heading towards the system of tunnels leading to the living quarters. Sighing, he waved off Hast and Vizsla’s attempts to get his attention, and gritting his teeth, hobbled as quickly as he could after her. “Hey,” he huffed, raising one hand in her direction even though she was facing the other way.

She slowed her pace to allow him to gain some ground, though she didn’t turn or stop. “Hey,” she responded almost questioningly, tone a mixture of uncertainty and amusement.

“I… you fight well.” He clenched his eyes shut and dropped his chin. You fight well? Di'kut.

That did make her stop, but only until he was immediately to her left, starting up again once he had a fair chance at keeping stride with her. Releasing a breath that sounded like a laugh, she nodded. “I know I do, but thanks.”

“I meant… your technique. It’s-” He tried to recall how she’d upended him so quickly, where she’d made her grips, the placement of her weight, but it was a blur. He shook his head. “I’ve never seen it. Not even in class.” So how do you know it? That was what he wanted to ask. How does a foundling know how to fight like that?

As though in answer to his unasked questions, she turned her head to face him. “We learned differently on Concordia.”

He blinked, the mention of Mandalore’s moon stopping him in his tracks. What? Of course it made sense now that she wasn’t new to Mandalorian culture. On the contrary, she’d been more heavily steeped in it than any of them. But I thought… Oh. It clicked then, that the buyca wasn’t that at all, not if she was raised on Concordia.

“When things… when we had to leave, my family came here.” She gestured at the walls of the tunnel they were walking through. “Dantooine is the only Mandalorian covert they knew of, so we joined our brothers and sisters here.” Turning back in the direction that they were walking, she nodded. “This is the Way.”

There was pain and heaviness in those words as she spoke them, but he knew that was true no matter who they came from. “This is the Way,” he responded.

She cleared her throat. “Right. So now that you know I’m no foundling, you don’t have to feel so bad for what happened back there.” She jabbed a thumb backwards towards the sparring hall.

He tried to shake his head but a sudden pinching sensation shot down his neck in protest so he aborted the motion. “No, that’s not what I-”

“No?” She stopped near the split of the tunnel where one branch led to the mess hall and the healing wing and the other to the collection of carved out spaces each occupied by Mandalorian families. He stopped as well, thankful for the chance to rest. She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck one hip out. “Then what did you chase me down for exactly?”

“I told you.” He was slightly confused by her question. “The technique that you used against me. I’ve never seen it before.”

She regarded him silently for a beat. “No, you haven’t.” She began walking again. “That was pretty clear from how quickly I had you down.” The smirk, or what he imagined might be one, was back in her voice.

He followed, trying and failing to hide the slight limp the day’s training had left him with. “Well can you-“ He stopped short to avoid crashing into her as she spun around again , the unexpected shift in his weight causing him to wince behind his visor.

Hands on her hips, she tilted her head, the dim light from one of the torches hitting the still undented, unmarred surface of her helmet at an angle that threw light around the dark hall. “Can I what?”

“Can you teach it to me?”

A small snort of laughter came from her, shoulders bouncing as she shook her head. “Didn’t you take enough of a beating for one day?”

He shrugged. “The Instructor says we don’t learn if we don’t lose. This is the Way.”

Mandalorians were taught not to fear or resent loss. Not in life and not on the battlefield. Though victory was the goal of every Mando’ade who engaged in combat, in sparring, losing was viewed as an equally valued outcome. Every loss came with the opportunity to learn. To adapt. Each opponent is a teacher and the true winner is the one who leaves the training hall with more knowledge and sharper skills than those they came in with. He was only trying to adhere to what he’d been taught, only trying to become the best warrior that he could be.

She nodded slowly, the motion giving over to a head shake instead as she let out a burst of air. “This is the Way.” She agreed, taking a step towards him. “But,” she placed her hand on his shoulder and he was glad she couldn’t see the slight wince the light contact forced across his face. “No.”

He cocked his head to the side, taken aback, the jerky motion sending a sharp pang of soreness through his neck and down his left flank. Damn that- but he ignored the twinge and focused on her refusal. “Why not?”

He knew that she was new to their covert, but the unspoken rule in the training hall was that all trainees had something to teach each other. It had to have been like that on Concordia, too. It was more than a rule, it was a responsibility, a duty to ensure that every member of the fighting corps was as well prepared as they could be. It was important to learn not only to trust but to depend on each other in battle, in the field. They were training to join the ranks of the elite within the corps, which meant that being anything shy of lethal would be considered unprepared. I know she’s new but she-

“Because,” she laughed, the lilting sound making him snap his attention to her hidden face. “It’s Djarin, right?” He confirmed with a nod. “Well, Djarin, I can’t teach it to you now, because you’re already in rough shape and I don’t want to explain to the Instructor next class why his best training dummy is all torn to shreds.” She was teasing, he could tell, her hand still on his shoulder as she gave it a light squeeze, and despite only having known her for a few hours during which she and the rest of the trainees had taken turns trying to rip him and Hast limb from limb under the Instructor’s tutelage, he thought she might be smiling. “But,” she went on. “I’ll give you a few days to heal up and then,” she nodded and dropped her hand from his body. “Then I’ll teach it to you.”

-- -- -- -- --

A few days later, the two of them agreed to meet in the sparring hall on a rare day off from drills, the sound of his body hitting the ground echoing in the nearly empty space each time she swept him. His grunts, every time she planted her foot on his hip filled the room, the clatter of his helmet scraping against the stone beneath him as she dragged him down and extended the leg she had planted to flip him over her head, the sound of their gloved palms smacking together as she offered him a hand back to his feet after a particularly harsh sweep. But each time she sent him off his balance, he picked up another detail of the technique, piecing them all together to understand the motion.

He could feel the bruises forming each time he hit the ground, and he knew that later that night when he got undressed to wash up, just like the day he’d met her, his hip and the side of his thigh would be covered in purple-blue splotches. Planting his hand firmly behind him, he let out a breath and pushed himself back to his feet. “One more.” His eyebrows came together in concentration beneath his helmet. “I think I have it now.”

She tilted her head, arms crossed over her chest. “You don’t quit, I’ll give you that.”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

On the next try, he got the jump on her, accurately making his grips and bracing the sole of his boot in the crease of her hip. Dropping his weight in a sacrifice style throw, he extended his leg like she’d shown him, finally getting the timing right to send her flipping over his head and onto her back. Following her momentum and keeping his grips, he rolled backwards over his shoulder to come up in a mounted controlled position. That was it. I- She coughed out a wheeze, the air clearly knocked from her lungs. Oh, dank farrik I-

But before he could concern himself with whether or not he’d inadvertently hurt her, she grabbed his ankle, trapped one of his arms and with a bump of her hips, rolled them both over to reverse the position so she had the upper hand once more. “Nice work, Djarin.” She released his arm and ankle and stood. “But don’t forget to maintain control once you have it.”

She was right. He knew that. The Instructor had been drilling it into his and all of their heads since they were eight years old. If he caught me losing control that fast he’d make me regret it. He sighed. “Right.”

“That was,” he looked up at her as he got to his feet. “That was really good, though. Do it again.”

-- -- -- -- --

By the end of the month he was hitting the move against Kevaz and Gralin during live rounds. He’d also learned the buyca’s clan name was Zurn, and that she was an excellent training partner for him. In two on two drills, they teamed up against Hast and Vizsla, their individual attributes complementing each other’s well. Their extra time spent drilling together had allowed them to develop good non-verbal communication skills, and they learned to read each other well.

By the end of the year even the Instructor had noticed, and he recommended that the pair complete their final stage of the elite training program together. It was customary for recruits to team up for the last tests of their abilities as the missions that would determine whether or not Mandalorians were worthy and capable of the duties that they would be expected to perform. Protecting the Tribe. Striking first against known enemies. Reconnaissance. Responding immediately to threats. They were responsibilities that the man who raised him had taken upon his shoulders- a deeper level of the Creed that was sworn by all Mandalorians. This is the Way.

His buir had given his life in that line of duty only a few years prior, when the young Mandalorian was thirteen and had just finished his mandatory training. He had mourned in the moment, as was appropriate, but he, like all in his Tribe knew that his father was not gone. He had joined the Manda and would always be a part of the collective soul that each Mando’ade shared. His choice to follow those footsteps was a choice he made to honor the man. Had he not been a member of the elite fighting corp, he would not have been there to rescue the scared boy in the bunker, and that scared boy in the bunker might not have made it out.

That boy was no longer a boy nor was he scared. He and Zurn accepted the recommendation, and one year and two months to the day that they had first met, the two of them were sent out on their first overnight mission: staking out a rebel base on the planet that had been attracting a lot of traffic to Dantooine. The covert’s main goal was staying safe, secret and hidden from the Empire. But the increase of rebel activity wouldn’t go unnoticed for long, and the Tribe needed a clearer picture as to what they were facing, and if they needed to consider relocating the covert. He’d heard whispers that Nevarro, another planet in the Outer Rim, was the selected backup, but he, like everyone who heard those rumors, hoped that that’s all they would stay.

They were camped out behind a large outcropping of rock, completely concealed from view of the base in the dark of the night. They had spent the day charting a lay of the area and choosing a position that would keep them hidden until the morning, when they could hopefully get an idea of the goings on at the rebel encampment. He leaned against the cool rock, chin tilted upwards. The fire had burned down to just the embers, still providing enough warmth to get them to sunrise, but dim enough now to see the night sky and everything in it with no interference from the flames. Once he finished his training and had a real helmet, he would be able to change the filter on the visor to block out any amount of light he wanted. But for now he had to wait.

And he had been waiting. The last time I saw the sky at night I was-

He froze, a sudden weight falling into his right hand where it lay open on the dry ground. That’s… His eyes widened as he registered what it was, her fingers curling into his palm. She isn’t...

He was still wearing his gloves, but she had taken hers off to warm her hands by the fire. She hadn’t put them back on. He could feel the difference even through the worn leather, and it caught him completely off guard.

“Six,” he blurted, immediately cursing himself the second the syllable was out.

But instead of laughing or teasing him, the way she always had in sparring, he felt her grip tighten as she moved closer. “Six what?”

I… what do I say? Should I- He tilted his head down, watching his fingers close around hers as though they were acting of their own volition. Dank farrik, why did I just-

“Djarin?” He snapped his attention back up to see that she had turned, resting the side of her helmet against the boulder so she could look at him as she spoke. “You said six.” He sighed and nodded. I did. “Six what?”

He wasn’t sure if anyone aside from his buir knew this fact about him, the man gone and this fact with him. Why would anyone care? It doesn’t matter. But instead of ignoring the non contextual number slipping out, she had asked him what it meant. Which meant that it mattered to her. He realized in that moment that there was no one else he felt comfortable enough around to let his guard down and enjoy the stars or think about how long it’s been since he’d seen them. It was only because he trusted her that he had allowed his mind to wander into memories, that he was relaxed enough to even make the slip and say something he hadn’t meant to. He realized that he actually wanted to tell her. It shouldn’t matter but it… it does.

His right hand was still occupied with hers, so he pointed with his left at the endless, swirling silver pricks of light poking through the thick velvety blue black sky. “Ca'tra.” She followed his direction and trained her gaze upwards. “I haven’t seen the stars since I was six.”

Dropping his arm back into his lap, he felt her thumb swipe across the top of his glove. She was still touching only fabric, her thumbnail snagging on a loose stitch near the opening. But she was so close to making skin to skin contact that if he so much as sneezed she would leave her thumbprint on his pulse point. If that happened she’d feel it racing.

“Me’ven?” She whispered her disbelief, swiveling her head over to look at him. Yes, really.

None of the children ever left the covert at night. It was dangerous, they were told, because outside the halls of their underground home, there were people who would capture them, hunt them simply for being what they are- Mandalorians. That was one of the many reasons that their education revolved so heavily around weapons and combat; so they would be ready to defend themselves and others when, not if, they needed to. She and her family had come to the covert later on in her training, and things had been different where she was from, so she had no real frame of reference for what it was like to give up the stars, grow up without them. For the ones born here, they don’t… they don’t even know what they’re missing.

He took a breath, readying himself to explain. Before he could, the fire cracked as the flames found a pocket of moisture or an unlucky beetle in the wood, spitting a few red hot embers towards the pair of trainees. Without thinking, he pulled her out of the way and nearly on top of himself, one of her legs falling between his knees. He heard her surprised gasp as she caught herself, reaching for his shoulder to prevent their foreheads from colliding. His left arm curved awkwardly around her shoulders as he moved them both further from the fire and out of range of any more stray embers.

As he shifted, her fingers did too, sliding from his shoulder to his neck- to the narrow sliver of his throat that was visible between his collar and his helmet. To the place where his blood ran quick and hot beneath his skin at how close they were. He swallowed, knowing she would feel the movement of his muscles beneath her touch, unable to help the way he had reacted.

He still had her hand in his, was still holding her closer than he’d ever held anyone. Say something. “Sorry, I… the fire was-“

“Djarin?” She hadn’t taken her hand away, her fingers curling around to the back of his neck.

“Y-Yeah?” He cursed himself for the waver in his voice. Another reason to look forward to the helmet he’d receive upon the completion of his training was the modulator in the speaker component. It served multiple purposes. To further disguise a Mandalorian’s identity by modifying their voice, yes, but also to cover any vocal slips of emotion or signs of weakness. Though if he was being honest with himself he wasn’t even sure if the device would be enough to hide the effect she was having on him.

It didn’t matter though. Nothing did as she slipped her fingers into the wavy curls that stuck out from beneath his helmet at the base of his skull and he thought that every last star in the galaxy could burst, the entire sky exploding at once, and it wouldn’t take his attention from that feeling.

She… she’s… His mind was working as hard to form a thought as his lungs were to keep his breathing even. Both were failing.

“I’m glad you got to see the sky tonight.” She made no move to get off of him, and he tried to stay as still as the stone they’d been leaning against, unwilling to allow his own anxious movement to be the thing that chased her away yet unsure of what to do next.

He gave a small nod, keeping space between them so he wouldn’t knock her helmet with his own. “Yeah,” he let out a careful breath, trying not to let it shake as her light touch continued to ignite his skin. “Me too.”

Her fingers spread wide against the back of his neck, pinky dipping daringly under his collar, and suddenly he felt himself tighten the arm he had around her, his hand curving over her shoulder. This… if she doesn’t want this she’ll- He focused on the horizontal slit of her visor, his heart beating behind his eyes as he found himself wondering what color hers were, and what they would look like if he could see her now, what she’d look like, wanting this.

Wanting me.

She tilted her head down, a tiny motion that he might not have even noticed if not for the way the firelight flickered in the reflection of her helmet. “And I’m,” she paused and he felt her shoulders and back expanded under his arm as she took a breath. “I’m glad I got to see it with you, Djarin.”

“Din.” Like the number six, his name leapt from his tongue before he could pull it back, and its release into the world left him feeling almost dizzy. That’s- I just...I shouldn’t have- He felt her freeze and stiffen, heard her shocked gasp, and knew he’d made a mistake. I shouldn’t have told her. She doesn’t...we’re- we aren’t-

“You...did you just-” She brought the hand that was still twined with his up between their bodies, resting them both against his chestplate. Something in the weight of them and the way they looked covering the carved ironheart symbol in the center, made him wonder if maybe it wasn’t a mistake. She’s still… she hasn’t moved. She didn’t get up or… The fingers of her other hand curled around the back of his neck, gripping him more tightly. “Djarin, is that your-”

“Yes.” He watched their hands rise on his chest as he took a deep breath, then glanced up at the place where he wished he could meet her eyes, finding only the smoky lens of her training visor. “My name.” Wished he had followed her lead and shed his gloves too, he ran his thumb along hers, pressing down. “It’s-”

“Din.” She whispered it back to him. Though the times he had heard his given name since swearing the Creed had been few, he knew that it had never sounded like that. Before he could fully appreciate the charged, electrified way that it made him feel, she was sending another jolt through his chest as she spoke again, lowering her forehead even closer to his. “Aashi.”

That’s her...She told me her n- He moved the hand he had on her shoulder to her back, flattening his palm over her spine as the charge ran through his bloodstream. Gulping down another breath, all attempts at keeping his reaction from her discarded, he pressed her closer. “Aashi.”

Until that moment he’d only known her by her house name, Zurn, and the clan signet that she’d painted on the dented steel plate that covered her left thigh. Two daggers. He never thought that the symbol fit her. It was perfect for her Buir, the woman more than proficient with blades. But she- Aashi, his heart flipped in place just thinking it- was just as skilled and dangerous without knives or vibroblades, maybe even more so without them. He’d known that from the very first day he’d met her, when he first referred to her only as buyca. And now I know her.

She closed the remaining space to let the curve of her helmet meet his with a soft but audible, tangible clink. “Kar'taylir, Din Djarin.”

He sighed out her name again as her fingers slid higher up beneath his helmet in his hair. And to think I was impressed with the stars.

That night, for the first time since coming to live among the Mandalorians, Din Djarin felt the press of lips to his bare skin as she sat behind him and lifted her own helmet just enough to kiss the back of his neck.

Kar’taylir, Aashi Zurn.

-- -- -- -- --

He noticed right away.

As he looked back over his shoulder, the tilt of her helmet was off. She was moving too slowly. A sudden chill gripped his chest making it hard to take a breath as he shoved his way back through the fray to get to her. No! Cyare! Another blast hit the wall of a nearby home that came crumbling down, and he knew that at her current pace she wouldn’t get out of the way in time. Launching himself at her, he caught her in his arms and rolled them both safely out of line of the debris, shielding her battered body with his own. He was extremely grateful that they had both just received their beskar helmets, knowing that the metal placeholders they trained in would do nothing to protect them in this situation.

But as he dragged her into an alley to safely assess her injuries, he saw that having the beskar wouldn’t matter. Not for her, not this time. No… No, Aashi… His hands shook as he placed them over the growing red bloom at her shoulder.

Aashi’s helmet, one pauldron and both thigh plates were pure Mandalorian beskar. The rest was just durasteel. Since the Great Purge beskar had been extremely hard to come by. The Armorer had to be discerning in her distribution of new pieces, oftentimes awarding warriors with beskar for achievements or special services for the Tribe. It was how he had also come to possess select pieces made of the precious material. Her wound though, was on the shoulder not encased in impenetrable armor. And he knew what that meant. She did, too.

Another year had passed since the night by the fire- a year that had kept them and the rest of their squadron busy in protecting their covert from the encroachment of Imperial violence. A year that had been spent deepening their bond not only as warriors but as partners. A year that made him certain that he was bound to her in all but ceremony.

“You h-have to go, Din.” Her voice was hoarse and thin, the modulator in her helmet doing little to hide the obvious agony she was in. He felt her weak grasp on his wrist as she tried to pull his attention from her bloodied shoulder to her face. “Din…” Hearing her speak his name in that tone broke him, and he dropped his head, letting her take his hand, letting her bleed slowly into oblivion.

“I won’t leave you.” He could hear how stubborn he sounded and he hated it. Hated that he couldn’t detach like he’d been trained to, hated that he would have to leave her, hated that he hadn’t been there to take the hit that she’d taken.

Using what little strength she still had, she brought her hand up behind his neck, fingers sliding slowly into his sweat slicked hair. He let out a shaky breath and realized his eyes were damp. “You could n-never leave me, cyare. You are a p-part of me, always.” She bent her fingers gently to nudge his helmet down to meet hers, and he placed both of his hands on the sides of her head. “B-but you have to...to warn the others. You n-need to… the covert. They need to…”

“Shh,” he silenced her, moving one hand down to mirror her touch, placing it on the back of her neck. “I know. I… I will.” He knew that she was right. He had to get back to the covert to help as many of the Tribe escape off planet to Nevarro as possible. He hadn’t gone through additional training, sworn additional oaths just to forsake it all to die in this ally with her and let the rest of the Tribe suffer the same fate. “I will.”

“Kar’taylir, Din Djarin…” She managed once more to tell him what he’d felt for so long, and then he felt her go limp, felt his heart stop, felt the world dim.

She was gone.

No. He shook his head, banishing the heartache that threatened to claim him. No. Not gone. She could never be gone. Like she told him, he was a part of her. And she was a part of him. She would be, always.

Leaving her there was the hardest trial he’d ever undergone, but there was nothing more he could do for her, and he refused to let her death be for nothing. He pushed himself back up and ran back to the covert, alerting who he could and helping as many to safety as possible.

It wasn’t until night fell three days later on Dantooine that he allowed himself to finally feel the cuts, the breaks in his heart. He had stayed behind with the rest of the elite squadron until all of the Tribe’s members were accounted for, either fallen or fled to Nevarro. Only he, Hast, Vizsla and a handful of others remained on the planet, and would be leaving in the morning never to return.

He’d spent that day solemnly traveling to the place of their first mission together, to the outcropping of rock where they’d hidden from the rebels and bared their souls to one another. When he arrived there, he felt her, as though some part of her presence had stayed there that night. He thought a part of himself must have, too. Silently, he knelt down and took the blade from its sheath on his boot. Kaysh meg miit'gaana, oyacyi. The act of writing, even something that was unlikely to be read, even something that only he knew existed, was an act of commitment. Though Mandalorians were not known for making monuments to the dead, remembrance was of personal importance to all who swore the Creed. Placing his other hand on the cool stone, he brought the sharp edge to the rock face and began carving into it. One symbol, then the next, etching the lines until all five were legible. He didn’t know how long it took, but when it was done he knew how long it would last.

“Kar’taylir, Aashi Zurn. Darasuum.”

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#din djarin #mando #the mandalorian #young din djarin #pedrostories #the mandalorian fanfic #resol’nare #resol'nare one shot #din's first girlfriend #aw #this is the way #mando'a #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #mando fanfic #mando fanfiction #din djarin x oc #pedro pascal characters

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