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alwaysmarveling · 3 years

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The Incident, The Aftermath

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Amputation, an explosion, hints at PTSD (it’s a wee bit sad but I promise it gets happier)

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: So I finally got the guts to post something... If you like it, thank Camz :) If you don’t, sorry mi dude, I’m working on it (but constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!).

You’d slipped into the tank top and shorts easily enough, and here you were standing in front of your dresser. One look at the unruly mop atop your head caused you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully ran the brush through your hair, allowing the knots to loosen up one by one.

You’d been leaving your hair down every day since The Incident, but that was two weeks ago. Assuming everything healed properly, Tony and Bruce were going to fit you for a prosthetic in a week, but until then you had to work with what you had… which was one less arm than you were used to having your entire life.

The universe wasn’t being very thoughtful of your adjustment—it was supposed to get up to ninety-five degrees today—so maybe today would be the day to try putting it up. You had seen some people do it on YouTube, and it didn’t seem that difficult. Plus, if you had enough dexterity to wield a knife with one hand and still leave your opponent in pieces, you should be able to put up your hair with one hand easy peasy.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, unsure of what to really do with it. You didn’t see a braid working. You could pin some of it to the side so that it wouldn’t fall in your face, but with the heat, you wanted it completely up. A messy bun could work, though; it was simple, got the hair off of your neck, and it was meant to be a bit untidy. Perfect. With the style in mind, you pushed an elastic around your wrist and set off to work.

Twisting your hair was easy enough. Looping it around to actually form a bun was slightly more difficult, but you managed. When it came time to actually loop the elastic around the bun, though, things got more complicated.

You copied the video, pressing your head against the wall to hold your hair in place while you secured the elastic. However, looping the elastic around the bun without significantly shifting your hair was proving to be extremely difficult. Nevertheless, you managed to do it. The mirror then filled with your reflection as you examined your handiwork.

Handiwork was one word for it. Simply put, it looked like a toddler had done your hair. You weren’t sure how exactly you had messed up since you couldn’t really see behind your head, but you could see the result, and it wasn’t pretty. You let out a puff of air, pulling the elastic out and reaching for your brush. One glance at the clock told you you had enough time for two or three more attempts before you had to call it a day.

Five tries later, you were no better off than you were before. Sure, the bun was supposed to be messy, but there was a certain art to a messy bun. This just looked like a giant cat spit a hairball on top of your head. On top of that, you were now running late to meet Wanda for grocery shopping.

“Miss Y/N,” FRIDAY started.

“Tell her I’ll be down in five,” you sighed, your eyes brimming with tears. You supposed one more day of leaving your hair down wouldn’t kill you even if it was going to be hot, but you just wanted to be able to take care of yourself. You hated seeing the looks of sympathy your teammates gave you every time you had to ask for help for the simplest things, whether it be grabbing a plate at the bottom of the stack or setting up equipment for training.

Sure, things were getting a little easier, like dressing yourself without help. You could deal with the phantom pain. It was excruciating, but pain was one part of the job that you were used to. You had also managed to hide your frustration from the team pretty well since The Incident, but you weren’t sure if that made it any better; half of them seemed like they were walking on eggshells when they were around you.

When it came to the nightmares, though, that was much harder to hide, especially considering you shared a bed with one of the lightest sleepers in the world. You hated waking her up every night, your body soaked in sweat and chest heaving as you forced yourself to remember that it was all over, forced your mind to believe that you were safe even when your body didn’t.

Before you could really understand what was happening, your emotions from the last few weeks bubbled over. Anger, frustration, anguish, and countless others flew to the surface, demanding to be released. Your fingers dug into your hair, yanking on the elastic—along with several strands of hair—until they flew out, hitting the floor somewhere you didn’t care to find. The hairbrush was next, being snatched from the top of the dresser and chucked at the door as hard as you could manage.

“What the- Y/N? Are you okay, babe?”

The thwack of the brush hitting the door caused you to flinch even though you were the one who caused it. Not processing your girlfriend’s muffled words at first, your eyes widened as you stepped back, and for a split second you were transported back to The Incident.

---

You grabbed the last civilian who had fallen behind the others, practically tossing them out of the building before it could explode.

“Y/N! Get out of-” Before Steve could finish his sentence, the building burst into flame, and the blast sent you flying in the air.

When you came to, the only thing you could focus on was the excruciating pain radiating from your elbow. You couldn’t make out exactly what had happened to it, but, wow, to say it hurt was an understatement.

It was several minutes later before the ringing cleared from your ears and you finally realized someone was talking to you.

“Y/N! Y/N, love, please, where are you?” The familiar voice drove you to use the little energy you had left, lifting your head off of the pavement to scan your surroundings. The dust and debris from the explosion made it difficult to see, but you could just make out her shape a few feet away from you.

“Turn… around, you doofus… I’m… behind you,” you wheezed out before letting your head hit the ground.

“Y/N! Oh my god, I thought we-” The second the former assassin saw you, her mouth dropped.

“What is it, Natty?” you asked weakly.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just give me a second, okay? I’m going to get the rest of the team so we can get you out of here.”

“Liar,” you wheezed, half-teasing, half-panicked, but your girlfriend had already turned around. Squinting your eyes, you could just make out the small movements of her lips that told you she was talking, but the chaos and your pain and exhaustion—and probably blood loss, but you didn’t know that at the time—was making it impossible to hear what she was saying.

“Okay, they’re coming,” she reassured you, kneeling down next to you.

“What happened?” you tried again.

“You’re a hero, babe,” the redhead murmured, smoothing back your hair and brushing dirt from your face.

“Yeah?” Your voice was growing weaker, and you were becoming loopier than someone who had just come out of wisdom teeth surgery. Natasha knew it was only moments until you passed out.

“Yeah, you did it, sweet girl. You saved them all.”

“I did? I seriously hope Helen is a superhero too because someone’s going to need to save my arm. God, it hurts.” Natasha only let out a huff at your poor attempt at a joke, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“Just hold on a little longer for me, okay? Can you do that?” Something wet hit your cheek, making you realize that your girlfriend was crying.

“Of course,” you scoffed. “Don’t…” You left her hanging.

---

After what felt like years, you finally regained your breath and returned to the present. “I’m fine,” you yelled out, your voice wavering. You knew Natasha wouldn’t believe you. Not only was she your girlfriend, but she was literally one of the best spies in the world. Sure enough, she tried to open the door, her efforts in vain since you’d locked it when you were changing.

“Hon, can you please open the door?”

“I’m fine, Nat,” you breathed out, your tone slightly more stable.

“Just let me in,” she pleaded. “Please?” Her soft voice made you sigh in resignation as you wiped your eyes. You tugged your fingers through your hair, trying to tame the bird’s nest on your head at least a little before showing yourself to her.

“Hi,” you practically whispered, not making eye contact with her once you had opened the door.

“Hey,” she responded softly, taking your hand in one of hers and using her other hand to lift up your chin. Rather than saying anything else immediately, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead as her second hand slid down to completely wrap your one hand in both of hers. The two of you stood in the doorway for a while, eyes closed and hand in hand. You weren’t a super soldier, but you were sure you could hear both of your heartbeats, yours slowing down to beat in tandem with hers.

“You okay?” she finally asked. You nodded slightly, your breathing now back to normal and the tears no longer streaming down your face.

Natasha always had a way of calming you down. You didn’t get frustrated or angry often, but when you did… the rest of the Avengers always joked that you were seconds away from becoming the next Hulk.

The former assassin slowly reached up to untangle your locks, noticing how you flinched when she first reached your hairline.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started with the faintest hint of uncertainty, “It’s been a while since I did your hair, and I saw this new hairstyle online that I thought would look really good on you…”

“Thank you,” you sighed quietly as you leaned into her touch.

“My pleasure,” your girlfriend smirked, pushing you inside your shared bedroom and closing the door behind her. She guided you to sit on the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed behind you. Brush in hand, Nat started sectioning off your hair. A small smile graced her face when you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully enjoy the contact.

Now halfway down your head, she spoke up again. “You know I’ll always be here for you, right?

“Nat…” you warned, although you had nothing to say afterwards, and the redhead took advantage of that.

“I can only imagine how upset you feel about losing your arm-”

“Nat,” you interrupted, your voice slightly harder this time. Natasha sighed as she continued to braid your hair.

“I’m just trying to say that I’m here for you. I was here for you before, and I’m here for you now. The number of limbs that you have doesn’t affect that. It also doesn’t affect your worth. You’re not useless, Y/N. You never were, and you certainly aren’t now.” Despite your best efforts, tears began to trail down your face. Natasha pursed her lips at the sight but continued, knowing that if she stopped now she wouldn’t have another chance to say what she needed to. “You are-” Nat’s fingers froze when you mumbled out something unintelligible, the hand over your mouth preventing you from enunciating. “What was that?” You sighed before speaking again.

“It’s not the arm. It’s not just the arm,” you corrected.

“Then what is it?” She resumed braiding your hair, her voice matching the tenderness in her hands.

“It’s- it’s the- god, this is embarrassing.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, love. I’ll never judge you for anything you’re feeling,” the redhead promised, pausing once again to brush her lips above your brow bone.

“It’s the fear, Nat. I can’t go one second without thinking about the explosion. About… losing it. I’m scared 24/7, Nat, and even if I could forget about it for even a moment, I have a constant reminder.” Natasha didn’t have to see your face to know that your eyes had flickered to the remainder of your arm that hung by your side. “And, god,” you laughed bitterly, “god, does it make me feel weak. What kind of Avenger constantly lives in fear and panic? How am I ever supposed to help anyone like this?”

“Y/N.” She stopped braiding your hair for the third time, pulling on it slightly so that you were forced to meet her eyes above you. “You are the strongest person I know. I know you’re scared, but guess what? You went through something super traumatic. It’s okay to be scared. Honestly, I might be more concerned if you came out of that and you weren’t scared at all. All of us get scared, and that’s perfectly valid because being scared does not make you weak. Being scared means you value your life, and that’s a good thing.” She paused her speech to relax her grip on your hair, but your head remained tilted, captivated by the passion and emotion that filled your girlfriend’s face and voice.

“And the Avenger that lives in fear and panic is the same one that was ready to give up her life to save people. You helped people in the past not because you had two arms or because you weren’t scared of stuff. You helped them for the sole reason that you made a commitment to helping others, to making the world a better place, and that is the sole reason why you will still be able to help others.” Natasha’s whole body was trembling. The hands that held your hair were white at the fingertips as she clenched them.

“I admire you more than anyone else in the world. You’re a hero, Y/N. Not ‘were,’ but ‘are.’ You’re the hero of every single person whose life you saved, and you’re my hero.”

“I didn’t-” Despite your interruption, the spy didn’t stop talking.

“You saved my life, Y/N, the second you walked into it. You give me a reason to live, to wake up every morning. And you’re my hero even more so now than before because you get up every day with a smile on your face, no matter what’s thrown at you.”

“Not much of a smile now,” you sniffed. Despite the tears that blurred your vision, you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from curling up slightly. Nat laughed at the juxtaposition, finishing up the intricate braids woven in your hair before turning you around to face her.

“But look how quickly that changed,” she teased, pecking your lips after she wiped the tears from your face.

“Thank you,” you repeated for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

“It was my pleasure. Plus, I was right, this hairstyle does look really good on you.” You bit your lip in embarrassment as you turned your gaze to the floor. “I’ll always do your hair for you, milaya.”

“I was actually thinking of shaving it off,” you smirked. As you examined your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but agree with Natasha. You looked good, missing arm and all. A little teary-eyed and runny-nosed, but amazing nonetheless.

“Don’t you dare,” your girlfriend scoffed. “I know I said I wasn’t leaving, but I might at that,” she winked.

“Hey!” You tackled her to the ground. Reaching for her abdomen, her eyes widened as your grin grew larger.

“Y/N, don’t you dare-” You talked over her, not paying attention to her threat.

“I can still tickle you with one arm.” The spy didn’t get the chance to respond before you pounced, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

“Stop, Y/N, please!” she managed to get out.

“Are you going to leave me then? Huh?”

“No, no! I won’t! I’ll never leave you! Please, just stop!” You let up on the tickling, gently brushing away the hair that was thrown over her face seconds ago. “Great,” Nat groaned, “now I need to redo my hair.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly. Seeing the pout on her face, you bent down and met her lips with yours.

“I meant it, though.”

“That you need to fix your hair?” Natasha laughed at the way your head had adorably cocked to one side.

“No, silly, that you’re my hero. That you’re the strongest, most admirable person I know. That I’ll always be there for you, and that I’ll always do your hair for you, even when you don’t need me to do it for you any longer.”

“I love you.” You kissed her again. “And I will always love you.” Noticing a slight shift in her face, you paused, studying her expression. “Don’t you dare start singing that song.”

“Miss Y/N, Miss Maximoff is wondering if you are alright.”

“Shoot, I need to go grocery shopping with Wanda!” You scrambled to get off of the floor, smoothing out your clothes before looking for your shoes. “Uh, FRIDAY, tell her I’m so sorry and I’m coming down right now.”

“One more for the road?” Nat pouted just before you reached the door.

“Of course. Thank you again, for everything.” Your lips melted together for a second before you pulled away.

---

“Wanda, I’m here, I’m so, so sorry!” You half-ran, half-slid down the hallway to meet your best friend at the door.

“Hey,” Wanda turned to greet you. “What took you-” She paused upon making eye contact with you. “I like your hair,” she grinned.

“Thanks,” you smiled back, “Nat did it for me.”

#I wrote something #oh gOD I actually wrote something #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #alwaysmarveling

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shorkbrian · 3 years

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Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t. But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect. How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed. The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before. A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words. There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

#kirishima #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #kirishima x you #yandere #Yandere kirishima #tw.death #tw.suicide

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authoressskr · 3 years

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Tracking Death and Magic, pt 2

Characters: f!Reader [known in this fic as Duchess], Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Phil Coulson, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, mentions of Dr. Strange, OFCs

Warnings: Language, death, angst, and no Beta :: Notes: this was written for @captain-kelli’s #ckcomebacktour – WELCOME BACK!! :: Word Count: 10,414

Mythological + Fairy Tale Creatures AU feat. Alpha Werewolf/Vampire!Bucky, Alpha Werewolf/Vampire!Steve, Giant!Hulk side Bruce, Born Witch!Wanda, Hellhound mix!Reader

Someone is hunting down those with Fae blood in New York. And no one can figure out why or who is behind the crimes. So higher ups in the city hand the case over to SHIELD, who deals with the more difficult supernatural cases. But even after two weeks, this small elite team can’t seem to figure out where the person or persons responsible will strike or the reasoning behind it. Anyone with a drop of Fae blood is scared…scared of being kidnapped or killed. Time to call in some outside help.

Prompt: [*In Part 1*] “All of those people are alive right now - all because of her.”

[ Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, translate, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION. 18+ ONLY PLEASE, all content providers don’t want serious repercussions from underage interactions, myself included. ]

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and *very* appreciated! -+-

Part One

You could feel it as you walked up to the sidewalk where Cyrus had been killed. The now dried and cleaned sidewalk not hiding it’s dark shadows from you in the waning late afternoon light.

The creeping, underhanded power of the Seelie Court brushing against you.

The poison is a prominent smell to your hound side still since it’s only been a day and a half. Cyrus’s soul hasn’t lingered, so that at least is a blessing, but the conversation with your uncle and this fresh site is putting your nerves on the very edge. You can ‘see’ the faint magic outline where he died, you knew he’d be wearing his homemade medallion to ward off evil. Swallowing, you kneel where his feet would have been, reaching out with your magic.

The flashes that echo painfully through your mind make you gasp.

The cloaked figure is stealing magic. Taking it violently. To him, the more violent and quick, the better. It honestly just makes your stomach roll, the saliva building in your closed and clenched mouth.

But why? You can taste the lighter magic associated with the Seelie Court - the Court of Light - the kind that humans and others often think of when they think of the fair folk. The court thought, it doesn’t deal with humans or others unless absolutely needed…

When you told Hades you suspected a member of the higher courts on your little walk, you hadn’t anticipated to be able to feel it. The boots, the glistening silver swords, the escape when you had moved a forgotten tiny part of the sithen under the alley -- now it all makes a lot more sense now. The shiver that runs down your spine at the implications this creates. May the God and Goddess spare all those innocents involved, you pray quickly.

A henchman for the shining Seelie Court, sweet baby Jesus. What had you gotten yourself into?? What had SHIELD stumbled into??

The residual death is quick, but still it steals into you, taking away what little baited breath you had. Feeling the tears prickle your eyes as you try to figure out these new pieces of the puzzle.

Hades can’t help you - Gods can’t interfere with other pantheons businesses, good or bad.

Hades can’t save you from the other half of yourself.

It was something you had always known in the back of your mind, but the harsh slap of it hurt more than the death and falling pieces of this horrible plot. But...just maybe there could be a light in this cave of fae intrigue and murder. There are others whom you can save.

The three stolen wouldn’t be taken to the sithen, that would be too obvious of their involvement. Plus, they were fae and thus could leave as long as not put into a dungeon there and theoretically had enough power and know-how to do so. But had the cloaked figure been draining them, you weren’t sure if they could get out or away.

So, that would mean they were still somewhere close by.

The last traces of magic from the murder, Cyrus’s own traces, and your hellhound senses in overdrive to track everything - you’re drowning as the sun sinks just a tad lower in the sky, creating the beginnings of the lovely orange autumn color you adore. Fall was closer than you remembered. You can vaguely hear your name being said, like being underwater almost. Then you can smell sage, lemon and juniper - the sweet smells of the entrance to the Underworld.

The way the newcomer says your name grounds you, while Bucky calling your name brings you closer to the surface - your mate...Bucky brings you back to reality. And he’s protective and bristling slightly at the other man who is holding your arm’s firmly.

You’re looking up at the slightly blurry face of a traditionally handsome Greek man, all muscle and blurry smile, with thick black hair and sweet honey brown eyes.

“I hate your human disguise sometimes,” You grunt and turn to plop down on your ass as Bucky watches as the man lean in and proceed to lick from your chin up to your hairline. “Okay, okay...thank you Cerb,” You shove his chest gently to get him to release you, reaching for Bucky’s hand automatically. “This is my mate, Bucky. Don’t snap at him.” Cerberus gives you puppy dog eyes, his nerves calming down slightly to hold his form better. So at least now it was one face instead of the three blurry ones superimposed over each other.

“Did you just say Cerby?!” Wanda sounds astonished.

“As in Cerberus?” Natasha questions calmly. The guardian to the Underworld stands up and he’s visibly excited looking from you to Natasha and Wanda.

“Yes,” You coo. “This is my best friend in the whole world and Underworld, Cerberus. Cerberus, this is Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers is his best friend. Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Phil Coulson. Wanda Maximoff and her twin, Pietro.”

“Pleasure,” His deep voice almost has an echo to it. “Lord said you needed looking after, pup. He was right. Too close.”

“I know,” You sigh out as your hand subconsciously clenches Bucky’s a little tighter even after he helps you up.

“No,” Cerberus growls. “Close.”

“Fucking great,” You growl out in reply, anger rising.

“See anything?” Phil asks, forehead furrowed just so. You sigh again, anger dissipating as quickly as it had boiled up.

“We are in a shit ton of trouble.”

“We are aware of that, kid,” Steve states, crossing his arms over his wide chest.

“Nooo. Like real shit ton of trouble. Seelie Court trouble.” Phil lets out a string of curses as Clint’s stance gets more rigid. “The cloaked asshole is working for the Seelie Court. I can taste the residual light magic. And he’s stealing magic. That’s why he’s been killing most of them. Kidnapping the more powerful ones to drain them continuously, I’m guessing.”

“He can’t take them back to the golden sithen,” Phil states, following where you’re leading. “So they’re still in the area.”

“I think he took them where there’s more greenery and nature, it would make it more comfortable for him. Someplace secretive to drain and hide them.”

“Central Park,” Bucky reasons. “It makes the most sense. It would be easy for him to hide them there, especially if he was -” He stops as you start exhibiting nervous energy beside him, enough to upset his wolf and your scent to change. “What is it?”

“Only royalty can move the sithen,” You whisper, eyes focused solely on Phil.

“I have to let Fury know…” Phil looks at you with pity and sadness appearing in his blue eyes. “Everything.”

“I figured as much when I tasted their magic,” face contorting with a pained expression is all Bucky sees on your lovely face as you whisper the words defeatedly. He’s on edge now with your changing emotions and scents, trying to keep his eyes from shifting too much or his fangs popping out to prepare for the impending fight, the need to protect and soothe you almost overwhelming him internally.

“I’m sorry,” He offers, moving forward to squeeze your shoulder sympathetically, withdrawing the phone from his pant pocket as your free hand shoots forward to grip his wrist tightly, a plea written plainly for all to see on your almost panicking face.

“Please Phil...delay it til the morning. I can’t...they’ll -” Bucky and Steve can taste the fear that’s rolling off you now, raising his hackles as Cerberus eyes him with interest before returning his gaze to Duchess.

“I won’t let your other side harm you,” Cerby snarls, his handsome olive face contorted with anger as you wince hard. Bucky tugs you into him as much as he can with your iron grip still on Phil, soothing the pacing and snarling wolf in his head as much as he is soothing you.

That’s why you said you should be better at wording things, Bucky thinks to himself, nuzzling his nose into your hair, fangs no longer a worry as your scent shifts yet again to worry. Only now he realizes you are concerned about how he sees you.

“Do you care I’m a werewolf and vampire crossbreed 100 year old plus former assassin?” Bucky mumbles softly against your head, making you pull away to look up at him, shock and confusion making you wrinkle your forehead at your mate. Your scent shifts to calm Bucky now, eyes tearing up just a tad as his wolf shakes and settles down. Mate needs reassurance.

“No!” You release Phil’s wrist to cup Bucky’s cheek, thumb moving over the course hairs of his beard. “I don’t care what you are. You’re mine, James.” The light in Bucky’s eyes stun you with his smile, his eyes crinkling beautifully. Just radiating his happiness in that simple little motion of his elated smile, your inner hound almost dopey at the tenderness your mate is exuding.

“Then why would I care if you're half fae?” He presses his forehead down against yours, making you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from falling. “You’re my mate, Duchess. I don’t care what you are, as long as I get to keep you. Understand, doll?”

“I just don’t want to be known as one of them...as one of the Shining Court. That’s not me.” You keep your eyes squeezed close, taking comfort in your mate’s touch and his surrounding scent, blocking out everything but Bucky.

“You moving that fast with that sword was hot though,” Bucky rumbles out, making laughter just peel out of you, opening your eyes to be met with those intensive cerulean orbs.

“You’re too good,” You copy his statement from the closet earlier, smiling up at the most important person in your life.

But that comment does make you think, yanking your forehead away from Bucky to snap back to Coulson.

“Phil! It’s for my father!”

“You sure?”

“It has to be! Only royalty can move the sithen! The High Prince has probably a quarter of the fae power I do and his son probably barely enough to magically open a doorway in the sithen.”

“Wait,” Clint starts, twirling a toothpick between his front teeth before pointing it at you and continuing. “So you’re a fae princess?!”

You wince again, Bucky’s metal fingers slipping under the edge of your shirt bottom to stroke your skin to ease the emotions swirling in and around you - at least they are much more in control and subdued than minutes ago. “Technically, yes.” You admit in a defeated whisper. “My grandmother is the Queen of the Seelie Court.”

“Which is why Peter said you were ordering the cloaked man to answer you,” Steve states, rolling his shoulders to relieve some tension. Too late you realize that since Steve and Bucky are actually pack that he was getting some diluted effects of your emotional rollercoaster just now just by being so close to the two of you. ‘Sorry,’ You mouth to him as he gives you a soft smile in return.

“So that’s why the ground shook?” Bucky asked, forehead slightly furrowed at Phil then down to you. “How can you move the whole sithen?”

“Oh, I can’t. I couldn’t do that unless I was Queen and would need a whole lot of blood magic to back it up to move it. And honestly, the sithen is a living thing, so it would need to be...um...convinced. But moving pieces of it - especially forgotten or ‘dead’ spaces that the court don’t access - is fairly easy if you know what you are doing. Hades is Lord of the Underworld. Is the “Underworld” just under Greece? No. It’s everywhere AND a specific place. The same properties apply to the sithen,” You shrug as if it hasn’t really occurred to you the schematics of it all.

“Ahh, sort of like the Sanctum Sanctorum of Dr. Strange’s,” Pietro supplies, tapping a finger against his chin with a small grin.

“Yes and no.”

“I was thinking more like the jet,” Wanda supplies to her twin who frowns at her.

“So if Dr. Strange had a Sanctum Sanctorum jet?”

“Jesus. Christ.” Coulson and Natasha mutter loudly in sync, sighing and turning away slightly from the twins and Clint who is nodding along with their continued discussion.

“So could you find the piece of the sithen in Central Park?” Steve moves the conversation back to the kidnapped victims, you watching him unclench and clench his right hand slightly. You move a little more into Bucky and reach for Steve’s right hand. His head snaps over to you almost comically fast, while you just try to exude a calming energy. Bucky whispers a soft ‘thank you’ against your temple before gently reaching over to squeeze Steve’s shoulder. You can almost feel Steve’s blood pressure drop once both you and Bucky are calm and now working on calming him.

“Yeah, I could. I’ve scented the magic signature he’s used both attacking me and at the crime scenes, so shouldn’t be too hard to locate it. I mean, I won’t be exactly spot on, but will be close enough to be able to move the sithen bit to me and manipulate it open hopefully.”

“So that’s the play,” Natasha states as Phil whips out his cell, causing another spike in anxiety to roll through you, but Bucky and Steve both quickly whisk it away with their touch.

“Yes, sir,” Phil states evenly. “We may have located the kidnapped parties. I request a team to subtly clear and surround Central Park. Yes, sir.” His right eyelid gives one lone twitch. “Yes, all Avengers to the Park. We are dealing with Seelie Court involved matters. Yes, she is here and will be leading us to the kidnapped hostages. Affirmative. Will do, sir.” He hangs up to find everyone staring at him. “Tony will be bringing everyone’s gear and then we’ll head to Central Park. If you have any requests or needs, please bother Stark. I have a whole ops to coordinate.” A black suv pulls up behind him, which no one even flinches at. “I’ll meet you all in an hour. Stark will know the location.”

“Onward to probable death!” Pietro mutters with fake enthusiasm and you frown at him, Cerberus moving closer to you until his arm is brushing. The scent of sage, juniper and lemon - overlapped with the scent of coffee, cinnamon, cedar and a soft ocean breeze, things distinctly Bucky to you, even the scent of orange faintly coming from Steve - do nothing to help the pit in your belly.

How true, you muse morbidly, glancing up into sad honey brown eyes. You can both catch the faint, trace smell of death.

And you both know it’s from you.

-----*****-----*****-----

Tony had brought you several SHIELD jumpsuits in various colors: gray, blue and black, smirking as you had raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously, little hellhound. They’ll all form to fit you. Bucky and Peter mentioned swords, so I brought some thigh holsters as well as a back holster, since I didn’t know the length of your swords. Natasha has extra guns aboard the jet if you are into that. Also, we don’t have time for you two to be frisky, so -”

“Shut up, Tony,” Bucky had growled from behind him, just making Tony smile wider. Seeing Bucky in his hero suit was a whole different sexy than last night and this morning. Well, you now understood why Tony was having concerns about you two because - dear gods did you want Bucky to bend you over something and take you with that suit on. You’d be equally happy to just drop to your knees and thank your mate for this look. Bucky obviously can see and sense the changes as you are basically drooling and clenching your thighs, while having an iron grip on the dark blue suit you had been favoring.

“Remember!” Tony says loudly while shaking a finger at you before Steve comes up beside Bucky and herds the grinning man from the room where you’re surrounded by suits and weapons.

“Eyes are glowing again, doll,” Bucky purrs as he comes to a halt before you.

“Can’t help it, it’s an emotional reaction most of the time,” You breath out, a smile playing on the corner of his lips at your answer. “Used to just do it when I was extremely pissed off. Now apparently it decides to pop up whenever I’m -”

“Horny?”

“Focusing. On. My. Mate.” You insist as he rumbles out a laugh, bending forward to kiss your forehead sweetly. You tilt your head up to catch his eye again, giving him a small smile as you reach out to take his flesh hand. “But just FYI, I can smell you’re horny too. And them pants is tiiight.” He captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling you so tight against his chest that the buckles dig into you a little, just making you all the more riled up.

“Mate,” Bucky’s voice is part plea and warning in it’s roughness after you two pull apart, you nosing along his throat, kissing the skin where your mark should adorn.

“You could leave to let me get dressed…?”

“Where the hell is the fun in that, doll? Huh?” Both of you are chuckling, touching each other as much as possible but struggling to keep it PG.

“Bucky, I know you don’t want to bring this up…”

“Don’t.”

“But this could be it, ya know? So I need you to sort of brace yourself if it does.” His back is now ramrod straight and his jaw clenched tight, but holding your gaze.

“I won’t let it happen.” The determination from your first meeting is back, but you can only muster the softest look in reply, letting the suit fall to the ground as you cup his face with both hands.

“Sweetheart,” You coo gently, watching the sadness dance in his eyes that he’s trying hard to hide. “I adore you. I trust you inexplicably. I would happily spend the rest of my life with you. To mate you, to marry you...to have a little baby that looks just like you, that’s all I want. You deserve some peace and so. much. love.” His hands are gripping tight onto your waist, you can feel the fingertips digging in as you continue. “But you know I’m marked for death, Bucky. They’ve tried most of my life to circumvent it, stop it, undo it. But death comes for me regardless. I need you to not pull away from everyone if that happens. You’ll need them. Please.”

“I don’t - I don’t want to deal with that. I can’t. I can’t lose you too. I said I would protect you and keep you safe. I’m no Alpha if I don’t try. I’m no mate if I don’t try.” You’re at a standstill, both now in emotional turmoil over this topic, trying not to let it bleed into the other. He presses his forehead against yours hard, staring into each other’s eyes. “I love you,” He whispers and it’s all you ever wanted to hear. Right now, you had all wanted right here - a wonderful mate who loved you and would try to move heaven and earth for you, who didn’t care what you were. One of the most beautiful men in the whole world who looked at you like the sun rose and set by your whim. The whole thing was unfathomable.

“I love you, Bucky,” You breathe out in reply, longing for any other outcome but the one you know is coming. “And I will love you as long as you live.” Bucky makes a noise in the back of his throat, a couple tears sliding down his cheeks as yours begin to fall freely, letting him wrap his arms so securely around you as his beautiful blue jacket absorbs your quiet sobs.

-----*****-----*****-----

The sun is nearly set, the sky streaked a hundred hues of dark pink and red as New York slowly descends into darkness.

Bucky is standing right beside you, outfit bringing out his eyes as he surveys the scene stoically. You’d chosen the dark blue jumpsuit to match his, arms brushing subtly as you stand just outside the magic lines - and sight lines from the sithen - of Central Park.

Although you can’t see them, you can vaguely sense the score of SHIELD agents and Avengers scattered on the edges of the treelines. But you can ‘see’ the edge of the piece of sithen just shy of the Azalea Pond at the center of the Ramble. Bucky had been the one with his tablet naming things off to you - you had only moved to New York two years ago after all - trying to help you narrow down areas where it could have been. You wish you had had the time for him to show you around New York, around Brooklyn, and places that still stood from when he was younger.

Cerberus is on the other side of the pond, should the cloaked figure try to escape, swathed in the grip of Underworld magic to keep him invisible and thus much more easy to herd or pounce.

Wanda is piggybacking off your abilities, twined with yours temporarily so she could sense the heartbeats of the victims now that you had a location. Sam is in the trees to the left of the pond with Peter, Steve and Tony on the right while Clint, Natasha and Pietro cut off any other possible exit points. Bruce is staying by the ambulances, ready to Hulk out should the need arise, although you could tell from his face he was radiating the bright hope it absolutely would not.

Any way the cloaked figure ran, he’d be funneled where the Avengers chose. There would be no escape. As a failsafe, Pietro would be the only one to engage with him except you, since he would be the most able to take him on with the fae speed.

You drag yourself back to reality, turning to gaze over at Bucky and steeling yourself with one last deep breath before starting down the short path to the Azalea Pond.

“Be safe for me, doll,” Bucky says softly, almost as soft as the small breeze suddenly around you two. You manage to nod, throat closing up again. The fair folk do not lie. It had been beaten into you, quite literally, when you were little at court. You want nothing more than to lie to Bucky in that moment. To reassure him you will be safe for him. But the fair folk do not lie.

Good thing you are not solely fair folk. You reach for his hand, grasping just his flesh fingertips in your grip and squeezing them hard. It’s a millisecond in time, but it seems like one of those Lord of the Rings moments that are in that slow, dramatic, longing-filled motion. “I’ll do my best, handsome.” Dropping his hand before you lose your resolve, you take the barely visible path towards the pond. Your magic is swirling with Wanda’s, your senses all in overdrive - so much so you can’t even register the smell of the flowers blooming along the landmark.

Pursing your lips, you whistle a simple five note tune that fae had used for time beyond memory.

From behind you comes that deep, craggly voice, “Greetings, highness.”

“Greetings, servant,” He gives a little hiss at the title you bestow. “SHIELD has sent me to inform you that if you cooperate, you will not be sentenced to death.”

“They are mostly human. I do not fear the humans.”

“You are not wise to not fear them,” You give a pregnant pause, making sure you give that haughty look the court loves to disperse. “If you do not accept this offer, I am to inform you that I, Princess Duchess Propolos Hekatos, will be judge, jury and - if need be - executioner.” He pushes back his cloak hood back, allowing you to finally see his scaled face. He was probably one of very few left over of those lizard scaled dwarves who stayed closer to the caverns around lakes and seas when humans first emerged as semi-civilized, with beautiful almost translucent rainbow sheened scales around his eyes and cheeks, his mouth set in a thin line with no lips.

“I was damned from the get go, princess.”

“We are only as we choose to be - it doesn’t have to be that way,” You insist, leaning a little forward, softening your eyes. Even if you disliked court life, the snobs of court who’s magic had begun to dwindle long before you were born, and how you were treated there - he was the same as you; a discarded fae. He doesn’t reply, though there is a flicker of something in his eyes, simply just unsheathes his double swords and gestures to you with his chin.

“Prepare, half breed,” Although his insult has less venom than the alley last night, you huff out a sigh at his tone. Like he’s just going through the motions. Asshat.

You shift your feet just so, straightening your spine as you wait for his move. Physically you are in that moment, but your power shifts the sithen opening to the side where Steve and Tony are waiting, causing the cloaked man to hiss, baring slightly sharpened front teeth at you. “Little bitch!” And his steel meets yours. “We will both die for this!” He snarls as he tries to drive you back towards the trees and brush opposite the pond, you holding the line as you wait for Wanda to signal you that the people had been recovered.

“I’ll deal with them when the time comes,” You growl low, blocking his blades yet again with a heavy clink, shifting just so that you can reach for Bucky’s favorite knife at the small of your back, tinged with the poison that your cloaked friend had been favoring and stabbing it into his side and piercing his lung with a squelch.

“The poison will do nothing to me,” He spits at you as you twirl your wrist to disarm him of one of the swords and slide Bucky’s knife back into its sheath.

“It will now. Dr Banner mixed it with another, a heavy iron involved one - infused with belladonna - to make you human slow,” You lean in as you block another wide swing from him with the one sword left, smiling wide. “And heal human slow.” The whole of Central Park shakes as you show your hand.

“No! NO!” He screams and hisses, attempting to swing his meaty fists at you now that he was without a weapon.

“I am still my grandmother’s first born grandchild. I am still the High Prince’s first born. I am a Princess of the Seelie High Court.” You lean in as your tone becomes more malicious with each word, watching true fear alight in his mossy green eyes. “And with all the inbreeding and decline for the last century,” You straighten up, your blue flames engulfing you as he attempts to scurry away from you, shielding his eyes against the light you emanate as he falls on his ass in the dense brush and dirt. “Let’s face it - I am probably the most powerful fae aside from the Queen of the Seelie and the King of the Unseelie.” Leaning down, fisting your hand in his cloak, you yank him back upright, snarling as your power dances behind your eyes, careful still to at least to not burn him with your flames. But watching him flinch at the heat, the basic fear all animals have towards a large flame, sets you more alight at the taste of that fear. “And absolutely the wrong person to piss off!”

“Spare me! Please!!” He screams, more high pitched than you had imagined, nearly making you wince as you see the red sparks above the tree line and see a blue clad shadow moving along the treeline coming closer to you. Pietro blurs past you, slapping old iron cuffs on the cloaked man, which sends him quite literally howling and screeching from the burn of the metal.

Your flames give off a few large flickers before they begin to die down when Pietro says that they’ve gotten the kidnapped people to the ambulance they had on stand by, Bucky coming down the path towards you with a small smile on his lips as your eyes meet. Your magic shrinks back towards you, the weight of all the magic and your now overworked abilities settling back into you, your shoulders sagging a little with relief. It wasn’t over, but once your grandmother learned about your father and half-brother then she would be the one to end it.

The look in his cobalt eyes shift quickly, widening and moving to glare directly over your shoulder, his mouth moving in slow motion as he begins to barrel towards you, you begin to turn - only to feel the jerk of your body going forward instead. A glance downward shows a shiny red tip of one of the cloaked man’s swords protruding from just under your breasts, when you hear the mournful howl echo in and around your ears - only to realize it’s three distinct howls. The tang of blood spills into your mouth in a surprised gasp, turning slightly to see who has murdered you.

Your half brother’s hand is shaking slightly as he backs away from you, surprise written on both your faces as the scent of death finally fully fills your nose.

“I never thought -” You wheeze out, taking a few shaky steps towards your half-sibling as Bucky slides to a stop before you, his boots kicking up the fallen green leaves on the grass, both hands grasping your hips firmly as his eyes wander all over your body and face, tears already tracking down his cheeks. “You would have the balls!” You finish with another wheeze, the metallic taste much stronger now.

Bucky turns you to face him as Tony and Peter keep your half-brother from escaping, the darkening greenery of the world around you narrowing down to just Bucky. It’s a beautiful world to be relegated to actually.

“No. NO. Come on, doll. You - you gotta stay with me.” His voice is raw sounding, like he’s trying to not be loud, his metal hand putting pressure on the front wound as if it would help. His forehead is shoved against yours, your entire gaze narrowed to his blue eyes and his damp cheeks as he pulls you into his lap, collapsing the both of you to the ground. It’s funny almost to you in the moment...like you can still hear his loud, pitiful howl like a haunting melody behind everything he’s saying. “Doll, you gotta...come on, gotta fight. I need you to fight. Cerberus, he - he went to get Hades and Hecate. They’ll fix it. Just hold on til they get here, okay?”

“I love you soo much, James Buchanan Barnes,” You’re heartbroken to watch him see your bloody bottom lip tremble, and the color seeping from your face. You can see him weighing all his options through his tears, trying to move your tired hand up to touch him, to comfort him.

“I love you too, babydoll, but please God, please … just stay with me.” The choked up sound of his voice makes you want to cry for causing him this pain. No amount of forewarning could have prepared you for this feeling - the feeling of slowly breaking and killing your mate.

“Mate,” is the last thing you manage to get out before you just go limp in his arms, those jewel eyes he loves so much already just staring up at the first stars twinkling in the sky unseeing. In the back of his mind, his vampire side offers up the idea which he swore to God he would never do. But all too late.

The howl that rips from his throat is pure misery and heartache, his body bowed over his mate’s, his grip still holding her in a vice. The blood cloys her scent, furthering his heartbreak.

He looks up, needing Steve on a near visceral level, only to not see anyone at all. Confusion slightly mars his grief, looking over his shoulder and all around the darkened area, but met with no familiar faces or words in his comms. Confusion gives way to his war training, the alertness on it’s highest notch as he scans around, sniffing delicately at the air as the world seems much darker now than it had just been. When he turns back towards the pond, on edge at the very tampered down scents surrounding him, he spots three almost identical women standing there with those dark pink azaleas framing behind them almost like a fresco - just appearing as if from nowhere like Hades had earlier on the street.

“James Barnes,” The one on the left begins, long dark brown hair falling freely to her waist. “We are sorry for your loss,” the one on the right continues, her hair half up in intricate braids. “But now that we have fulfilled our ill-spoken creed,” the middle speaks, all that dark mahogany hair piled atop her hair like a crown, before they all join hands as the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand to attention at the sudden surge of power that surrounds him, his arms tensing as a wave of azalea scent blows around the two of them, bringing Duchess as close to him as possible again. “We will return our little cousin back to you.”

His mouth goes dry, forehead wrinkled in not understanding as he looks down at his mate, her eyes still open and her skin still dampened with that death pallor. Bucky gently uses his metal digits to close her eyelids, grief and nausea rolling through him simultaneously while the ground beside Bucky gives a small shake and splits open, Hades climbing so elegantly and easily from the ground below with Cerberus - in three-headed giant black dog form - with a wispy blue thing dangling from the middle head’s mouth. There isn’t even enough room left in him to be shocked, there is just acceptance of whatever this shit show was.

“Turns out, sometimes you just have to accept Fate and go through it in order to stop it,” Hades murmurs in his deep molasses voice, bending down just so, his long fingers gripping the back of Bucky’s neck loosely. “Will you accept your fate now, Bucky?”

“I’ll do anything for her,” Bucky rasps out with conviction shining in his tear-riddled eyes.

“Splendid,” Hades motions with his free hand for Cerberus to come forward. “You must take a mouthful of this first.” He orders sternly as a beautiful blonde woman, shorter than Duchess and with a more heavy hourglass shape, emerges from the crevice to the Underworld with a black and golden chalice. Bucky marvels at the tiny wild roses popping up in her wake as she walks around Cerberus to stand between himself and Hades. She sniffles as she looks at Duchess, one hand leaving the chalice as she frowns over at the Fates before brushing two fingers down his left cheek to his chin, the warmth from just her fingers seeping quickly into his icy feeling skin. He doesn’t even notice the Fates disappearing just after that, he’s so focused on the goddess before him.

“Remove the sword, Hades.” It’s gone with a wave at the woman’s order, Bucky unconsciously tightening his hold once again on his mate. “Now, Bucky, sweet little honeysuckle boy, take a mouthful of this - but don’t swallow.” She brings the cup to his lips and tips it up. “Now, when Cerberus drops her soul back into her body, kiss her and push all the ambrosia into her mouth. It’ll take a few seconds for her soul to readjust and the ambrosia to heal her before she comes back to consciousness, okay honeysuckle?” Bucky manages a jerky nod, rewarded with a pat to his cheek before she backs up towards Hades, Cerberus giving a huff as he leans down towards Duchess’s body.

“Three. Two. One.” Hades counts down, Cerberus’s light brown eyes locked onto Bucky’s before the middle head gently opens it’s very large jaw and the blue wisp floats down to her body. “Now.” Bucky smashes his lips against hers, feeding the liquid into her mouth with an edge of desperation barely restrained within him.

“Now we wa-” A gasp startles you all, her jewel-toned eyes blinking rapidly as her hands claw at Bucky’s waist where they’re trapped between them, until they’re focused on Bucky. Bucky lets loose a sob as she smiles up at him, blood now gone from her face.

“Hi handsome,” A tiny little cough to clear her throat. “Bucky,” Duchess manages to rasp out before she’s crushed to Bucky’s chest.

“I lost you,” Bucky half gasps/half sobs into her hair, the scent of blood seemingly long gone, a terrible dream from which he can now finally awaken...it was just her again. Just his mate.

“But you found me, handsome.”

Bucky manages to get out a soft chuckle as he pulls back to cup her face in his hands. “You do anything like that again, doll, and I swear I’ll -” She cuts him off with a kiss but he doesn’t miss the smile and silent eyeroll. When they break apart, she brings her hand up to cup his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone repeatedly as Bucky just reveals in the warmth of her fingers and palms against his skin.

“You are mine,” She whispers so damn gently, like a breath of life gently fanning over his lips as her forehead bumps against his softly. Bucky understood this was her sign that everything was alright, that closeness of foreheads pressed together and reading every emotion in each other's eyes.

“And you are mine,” Bucky affirms, electricity buzzing down his spine before he smiles wide at his mate, happy to see her own smile widen as he does so. “You’re stuck with me for forever now.” She tries to feign a disappointed look and tone, to school her eyes and keep her lips from twitching up in a grin is poorly executed.

“Oh, no. What a terrible thing, Sarge,” It comes out more as a purr, lighting a warmth and fire from within Bucky, elation now bleeding as a scent out of him at this tiny but monumental moment with his mate. A deep voice clearing his throat behind you brings you both a bit back more to the present, Bucky glancing to the left as your smile stays gracing your gorgeous face.

“Welcome back!” The goddess burst out, tears opening flowing down her lovely and soft olive oval face, falling to her knees behind Duchess and throwing her arms around her shoulders, squeezing her fiercely. She even pulls Bucky closer, smoothing a hand up and down his back as she hugs both of them just this side of painful.

“Thank you, theía.” Duchess grunts out from the tight sandwich she’s in, looking over to her uncle. “Theíos, what happened to that little motherfucker?”

Hades stern looking face breaks out in a tiny smile, looking so kindly down at the scene before him as Cerberus’s three heads lap and nuzzle at the three on ground. “He’s still being held on the other plane. And speaking of which, we should return quickly. Hecate might actually kill him and start a bigger conflict than which we already have on our hands.”

“Well that answers some of my questions,” Bucky mutters just behind her right ear, nipping at the earlobe gently as Persephone releases you all, gently wiping away her tears.

“I’ll fill you in as best I can later. After someone fills me in, that is,” Duchess promises with a quick but warm kiss to his lips. Hades helps his wife up, kissing both of her palms and exchanging a long, loving look before extending his hand for Duchess, Bucky shooting up beside her as they each have a hand hold on her and help to steady her as she sways just a touch.

“Much later,” Bucky agrees with the barest hint of a nod, just needing to soothe his mate still. Frankly, just needing to reconnect and optimally be alone with his mate. Hopefully uninterrupted for at least two weeks, a month - two months would be absolutely dreamy and very, very far fetched with all the shit they’ll have to deal with afterwards regarding this case. But Bucky would move whole cities to make good on what she’d said to him aboard the jet too. Finally get him some of that apple pie life that he, Steve and the Commandos had talked about all those years and years ago.

He watches as you roll your neck, gently pushing away one of Cerby’s heads to shake both your arms out before reaching up to finally scratch at each of Cerberus’s heads one by one, kissing at their muzzles with gusto as the giant hellhound wiggles it’s butt with abandon. “I didn’t get that warm of a welcome,” Bucky remarks with a smirk, his mouth breaking into a wider smile at the look she shoots him.

“Because that is something personal you’ll get later on, Sarge,”

“Geallaidhean, an dannsair beag agam,” Bucky growls softly, making sure to seal it with a deep, hard kiss. Promises, my little dancer. She looks a little flustered when they break apart, eyes not as focused as before. He knows she can smell the very pleased scent rolling off of him at her reaction.

“Such an Alpha,” She mutters with a teasing eye roll, keeping her hand on his chest. “You wear that jacket and you can have whatever you like,” comes the whisper against his lips, a soft growl punctuating the end before he takes another kiss. “Okay. Okay. Now, let’s go shank the little fairy prince,” Baring your teeth is more cute to Bucky than terrifying initially, but knowing what you’re capable of does make it scarier. And sexier, he wasn’t going to lie to himself. He loves that his mate is that intimidating.

And quite honestly, what will be more scary to the little prince than someone he feared and loathed coming back after watching them die? What's more, coming back for their retribution on him from the other side. Bucky can bet anyone that it’s not a hell of a lot actually.

“Brace yourself for it,” She whispers, hand wrapping tight around his metal one. Bucky feels a tug at his navel as the whole world around him seems to lighten at least ten shades, the overwhelming scent of blood returning, along with the pond waters, and Steve suddenly all fill his nose at once, Steve’s hands suddenly wrapping just this side of painful on his upper arms.

The scent of confusion and awe fill the area around them like a sudden breeze, the fair folk Prince calling for the God and Goddess to protect him in a whisper which might as well be a shout in the eerily quiet park. It seemed like even the regular wildlife noises in the Park had shown restraint, watching the otherworldly conflict in reverence.

“Did you miss me, brother?” No one on the other side of Manhattan could mistake the venom in her voice for anything other than deadly.

“You don’t understand!” The man - if you could call him that, no one in Central Park would though - shouts defiantly with a slice of whining at the end, his pupils blown as his eyes dart around the small clearing with barely restrained panic, nearly everywhere but on Duchess.

“Spare me your bullshit, Bradye,” Duchess growls, the lights beginning to dance behind her eyes as she moves closer to him, leaving her mate behind her. She smiles a bit triumphantly, maliciously. “You have come into this realm and by doing so are now subject to its rules and punishments. That useless title you hold will do you no good.” A few tsks come from her, “For you will face a death punishment either way. Hecate has requested the Queen come here and you and our father will pay for, let’s see, eight deaths and three kidnappings.”

“The fair folk do not lie,” He reminds in a taunt, thinking he’s won something. Her dangerous smile makes his millisecond of gloating worthless.

“Oh, of that I am well aware. I was schooled in that rule with leather. And steel. And sharp blows...and I think it may have slipped your mind, but I DID die. Charon saw me waiting upon the shore of the River Styxx. And he cannot lie about the souls he sees and ferries. Is the shaking of your hand as you drove your servant’s blade into my chest so quickly forgotten? Don’t worry,” Flames begin to gather around her ankles, slowly creeping upward like a nonsensical dance. “I have worked with SHIELD to document all you and our father have done. Did you know that there are some cameras opposite where your servant was seen entering and exiting? And that it has files that date back to before the first murder? Where you can make out two male figures walking into the park and it has a slight shake to it? Almost like an earthquake...or perhaps even a sithen moving…” The color drains from his already pasty face as Duchess strides closer, the blue and white flames now licking up her hips and lower back. There is a slight odor of urine, making Steve and Bucky both wrinkle their noses as Tony takes a small step away from him.

It’s a power move, not just the ever shifting flames but Bucky can clearly spot how sharp her teeth have grown, how her midnight blue fingernails are now black pointed tips. She’s allowing her fae side out as well, those multicolored lights bobbing and dancing behind her irises as each step she takes results in tiny little faerie rings, the tiny flowers blooming in the colors of the pinks, greens, and light blues that dance behind her eyes as small little beings descend from the trees and pixie-looking fae flit from the flowers around the Azalea Pond.

“You have no proof,” The haughtiness returns, looking down at Duchess, and had his voice not shook, might have pulled it off. He also eyes the fae joining the group in the clearing around the pond, his eyes catching sight of the faerie rings behind her and the shock that shows in his eyes is nearly equal to watching her appear back on this plane - alive.

“You hear that, Grandmother? Everything I asked Hecate’s handmaidens to give you is not proof.”

Bucky will remember that look forever. The snapping up of his head so fast it looked like it hurt, the look of complete and utter stunned surprise that seems to echo through and around him and actually make a tremor run through the little slimeball as Fury, Coulson and a lovely looking older woman with hair that went from silver at the top of her head and slowly gained a darker red as it came to rest at her waist came behind him into the clearing.

“I have heard all in this park. I have watched your hand slay your sister.” There is a flash of fury in her eyes, which Bucky notices are mismatched. One green as freshly mowed grass and the other a dark pine bark brown. “And had she not been preoccupied with keeping everyone in this park safe, sealing the sithen closed, and focused on her mate, you wouldn’t have stood a chance, you preposterous, moronic, useless child!” Her voice raises but her face never changes from an indifferent look that Bucky had seen Queen Elizabeth sport more than a few times on tv. “You and your father will be punished to the fullest extent of this plane’s laws. Before that you both will be brought before both courts of Fae and stripped of all your titles, rights, magic -” She looks down her nose at him with a sniff of disdain, “This applies more to your father as he actually has abilities. And you will also be made to pay for restitution to the families of those you had killed and of course those three whom you stole magic from and tortured. By our laws and the old ways, your sister has death rights on all three of you involved. And I must say, if I was her, I would drag your punishments out slowly...meticulously...painfully.”

Duchess strides back over to Bucky, hands already reaching out for him as the fire dies down around her - not as consuming, but still a bright warmth that shadows her entirety. Wrapped safely in his arms, Bucky rests his chin on the top of her head as Steve gently brushes his hand up and down her arm a few times, just reassuring her of their pack bond before taking a small step back to let them bond more. She pulls back a little from the comfort of his arms, tilting her head back to look up at him, Bucky knowing exactly what she wants. This was all very familiar to what happened just before she died...and honestly they all need that reassurance that everything is okay still. And this is the simplest and best way he can do it now; Her lips are soft and easily molded to his own. His sensitive ears can still pick up the little chirps and flitter sounds of small wings of the tiny fae that had climbed into this plane at Duchess’s silent command, gathered closer to her than her Grandmother, waiting for something else it seems.

A sharp featured man dressed in a black suit jacket with heavy, shining gold threaded designs along the wrists, collar, and lapels comes into the clearing with two men trailing behind him dragging a third between them.

The tiny beings begin a high pitched whine as the dragged man is thrown at the Faerie Queen’s feet. The man in black eyeing the tiny creatures with an unreadable something in his eyes.

Bucky is shocked at how much Duchess shares her face shape and nose with her father. Everything else must have come from her mother, making her features softer. Her eye color - she had told him last night - had come from her mother’s father, her mother’s side also responsible for her more soft Greek eye shape and supple body as well. Her father’s face however is harsher, more weathered looking than even his mother’s face. His eyes are a muddy brown and he looks to be maybe an inch or so taller than Duchess herself, unusual for a male - and even most women - of high Fae blood to be that short and not claim Brownie or Goblin blood, both of which a high Fae would absolutely loathe to admit to tainting their line. Him and his son seem to have been the tailings of a long and powerful bloodline, while Duchess was an anomaly of both sides of her family tree which was probably why she was so powerful. She was seemingly that red-headed gene in a sea of black hair which came about once every few generations.

Steve moves closer to the two of them again as the Queen looks down at her son with even more disgust than her grandson, which Bucky would not have thought possible a second ago. The sharp featured man comes to stand before Duchess and gives a deep nod, the two men behind him taking a knee as they come to a stop, the High Prince of the Seelie Court and his son watching from behind the Queen with shock and anger mixed on both their faces.

“Your highness, we at the Unseelie Court are thankful to you as it was a forgotten part of our court that was taken.” His bright green eyes look almost hesitant for his next words. “We are indebted to you for clearing this up. And also for clearing our court of involvement. The Unseelie Court is indebted to you, Princess Duchess Propolos Hekatos.”

Duchess pulls away a little from Bucky and Steve to sink into a deep curtsy, “Thank you, King Odhran. May your debt be cleared swiftly.” The two men behind him rise and they all go over to the Seelie Queen as Duchess’s flames die down further, pulsing softly in time with soft flutters and swayings of the tiny fae that have moved closer still.

“I will be seeing you later for their merited punishments, cousin,” The man says indifferently while also containing a hint of malice.

“Good evening until then, Odhran.” He and his men disappear as the Queen waves her hand to the men and women holding the prisoners formerly known as her family. “Fury. Coulson. We will be off now. They will be put into your custody in a week’s time. My granddaughter will, of course, be there for the handoff as a representative of the good will of my court.” Bucky doesn’t like that she’s ordering Duchess, fighting to suppress a growl. Does she not know he has plans for his mate?? She turns to address said granddaughter. “You will attend this handoff as a Princess of the Seelie Court. Come see me the morning before the handoff, as we have things we need to discuss. Please thank your goddess, Hecate, again for her swift actions and Hades for his too.” Duchess sinks into that deep curtsy once again before nodding at the trees and pond, the tiny creatures melting back into the waters and darkening branches like shadows, her Grandmother watching with something close to fondness on her face as the guards and prisoners disappear first, then her elegant frame takes a few steps and is gone as fast and quietly as the others.

Fury holds his hand straight up in the air after they vanish, no one making a move, just light breathing as everyone glances around the clearing, looking at Duchess and then Coulson who both give a firm nod before he lowers his hand and clears his throat. Fury’s good eye looks tired as fuck to Bucky.

“Alright people, shit shows over. Wanda, please begin magically cleansing this spot with Pietro, I want to be out of here in under an hour. Coulson, get me updates and signed paperwork from the three rescued for prosecution. Tony and Vision, keep the area contained until after the cleansing. SHIELD agents, please collect photos and evidence before the cleansing. Originals we keep, copies to the NYPD. Falcon and Spidey, back on patrols for the next few hours. Barnes and Rogers, take the lady home. I think she’s done and had enough for tonight. Everyone else, find something to do to make this go as fast as goddamn possible.”

“Roger, roger!” Bucky and Steve call out, Bucky tossing his flesh arm over her shoulder, Steve on his left side as they all wave silently to their friends and begin their way out of Central Park.

“This is one of the most terrible evenings of my life,” Steve mutters as Hades, Cerberus - in his human form - and a third figure, who Bucky can scent and see is definitely not the extra curvy Persephone, wave from further up the treeline ahead of them. “And I was just on the edge of the whole thing - witness and secondary pack feelings between you two. I might need a cigarette.” Steve mutters as he runs one hand through his hair and then down his face after taking a deep breath and letting it out.

“You haven’t smoked since 1938,” Bucky remarks with an eyeroll. “And that was before we knew it was bad for you, punk.”

“And this was one of the most terrible evenings of your life so far!” Steve turns his light blue eyes towards her with his Captain America signature disapproving glare at her overly perky tone. “The Seelie Queen says thank you. In that special fair folk way,” Duchess lays on the happy sarcastic tone as they approach the trio.

“As if I give a single fuck,” The woman’s dark voice growls out, her full lips set in a frown at the news. “How do you feel, mikrí mou skoteiní?”

“I told you, your little dark one is fine,” Hades reiterates with an eyeroll.

“I feel wonderful now, eroméni.” Duchess squeezes Bucky’s hand before ducking under his arm and pressing her forehead against Hecate’s as they intertwine both their hands, the power swirling softly around the two of them.

Bucky can feel the comfort in the darkness and mist that surround them temporarily, the two pulling apart and grinning at each other more like sisters or best friends than what they were.

“Mistress, this is my Bucky,” She stretches her hand out to him, Bucky forever heeding her siren call as he slips his hand into hers. “And that is our Steve Rogers.”

“I am honored to be in your company, gentleman. My mikrí mou skoteiní needs more family. I am glad she has found not only her mate, but a pack.” Her face shifts minutely from ecstatic to a little teasing. “One that will surely grow soon?”

“My baby doesn’t need to be having babies just yet!” Cerberus says in his deep honeyed voice, the slight echo noticeable now.

“My ma raised me right, ma’am. I got to mate and marry her before we go that path. My girl hasn’t even been to Coney Island.”

“Psssh. You haven’t been to Disneyland.”

“I was starting with Brookyln and Coney Island, doll.”

“Whatever you say, handsome,” She sighs out with a smile as Hades chuckles.

“And so it begins, Bucky.” Bucky grins down at his mate.

“I can’t wait.”

“Cheeseballs...the both of you,” Steve laughs out as Hades pulls Duchess into a hug, kissing her forehead before pulling away.

“Bring the boy down in a few days for brunch. Persephone will be elated, well more elated, to see you mated and bonded. Steve is welcome as well. You know how we love certain companies in the Underworld.”

“I shall bring the handmaidens as well. Perhaps we can get Mr. Rogers a mate as well,” Hecate teases again as Steve’s ears and neck turn bright red.

“We’ll call to check in tomorrow,” Hades continues, hand stuck out to Bucky who shakes it more firmly than last time which makes the God of the Underworld’s smile widen. “Gentlemen.” He extends his hand to Steve, giving him his own hard handshake before stepping back for Cerberus to enthusiastically hug all three of them.

“I love new pack members!” His echo-y deep timber reveals his obvious happiness, Hecate eye rolling good-naturedly beside him.

“I’ll text you later,” a smirk is painted on her full lips as she stares at Duchess. “But I understand if you are busy.”

“Goodnight Hecate!” comes Duchess’s embarrassed reaction, Bucky wrapping his metal arm around her waist and winking at Hecate. “Stop that!” She swats at Bucky’s chest playfully, just for him to catch it and kiss her fingertips.

“Let’s head home, doll.” Her eyes brighten instantly.

“Ooooh! I’ve never been to Stark Tower!” She states as Steve full belly laughs.

“He meant your bar or our shared apartment in Brooklyn.”

“But I’ll take you to the Tower in a few days,” Bucky promises with a kiss to her open palm as her temporary puppy dog eyes brighten.

“Goodnight all,” Hecate and Hades state simultaneously as Cerberus gives Duchess one last kiss to her cheek before rubbing his own cheek against it.

“Goodnight!” Steve, Bucky and Duchess chime in reply, watching the gods and guardian take a handful of steps before disappearing further up the path to the right, Bucky leading his pack down the left path towards 74th Street.

“So, whatcha up to later, Sargent?” Duchess begins as they enter the area just before the Boathouse Restaurant, squinting just a bit at the brightness.

“Well, I got this mate who smells like fresh baked bread, lemon squares, cayenne, and a little hint of mint - who is in dire need of a mating mark and bond. And lots of baby making practice. Then I was thinking I take her for lunch at the Tower in a couple days to show her off.”

“Can you schedule an old school tour after the Tower lunch?”

“Of course, doll,” Bucky’s accent thickens a little as her eyes soften as she looks up at him. “I’ll even show you everywhere we got our asses kicked when we were young.”

“And by ‘ours’ he means mine after 1934,” Steve says from Bucky’s other side with a scoff, sending Duchess a wink as they get past the Alice in Wonderland bit and start on the path down towards the Model Boathouse.

“Whatever you guys wanna show me,” Duchess sighs out happily, leaning into Bucky and reaching around his back to take Steve’s hand. Steve squeezes back before kissing the back of her hand and releasing it, happy to have her in the pack.

“I’ll grab some stuff, but I’ll stay near - up in Natasha’s apartment a few floors up. Just let me know when it’s safe,” He chuckles out as a flustered look passes over her face. “Don’t worry, kid, it’s natural. Just lots of good luck to our furniture in the house with this Alpha.”

“Is Natasha’s floor far enough away, punk?”

“Well, I love my pack already,” Duchess murmurs as Bucky and Steve continue ribbing each other, watching the stars compete with the New York City lights as a few leaves rustle in the breeze and fall on the bright path ahead of them.

“Doll, as corny as it sounds, it’s amazing how I could try but I could never explain what I hear when you don't say a thing. Just your scent and hearing your heartbeat is a different kind of magic,” Bucky whispers against her hair before kissing her soft cheek, his metal fingers entwined with hers naturally.

“If every bit of magic was stripped from me tonight, I would be okay with it. Because the best magic I’ve ever received is you.”

Bless ya’ll for making it through my long ass rambling stories <3

@stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @galaxiesinmymind @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @mizzezm

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**ALL RIGHTS TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS**

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avengerscompound · 3 years

Text

Small Gods: Patience - 4

Patience: A Black Widow Fanfic

Patience Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1786

Warnings: canon typical violence

Synopsis: Every day Natasha prays for more patience to deal with a litany of things from waiting for her target to make a move - to not yelling at Clint for putting empty milk containers back in the fridge.

When her prayers are answered, Natasha finds that having patience is easy, holding on to it is a little harder.

Chapter 4

Natasha was not good at emotions. She didn’t like them - so she buried them. It was better to be the cold and heartless assassin who could be killed at any moment than to risk being hurt in a way that mattered. She shut people out and pushed them towards others so at least she could see what being happy might look like on someone else, even if she never felt it herself.

Except - Natasha was happy.

It took her a little while to realize that was what the feeling was. She recognized happiness in those short joyful bursts where she’d be with a group of people you care about and they’ve all let their walls down and just briefly she would too. That quick burst of serotonin never lasted but always felt good while she had it.

That was nothing like what she was feeling now. It was a long-term contentedness, mixed with hope, and just enough excitement to keep her interested. It was scary really. She was vulnerable. She had something to lose.

Yet all around her things seemed better. Food tasted better. Spending time with her friends felt different - she could connect with them more. Even Clint’s annoying habits seemed to lean more to funny than annoying.

The others noticed it. Sometimes Clint would flinch when he made some stupid joke - like he was expecting to get cuffed on the back of the head, and when it didn’t come he’d look at her suspiciously - almost as if he thought she was saving up to get him later.

She put it all down to you.

Natasha was falling for you. Hard. She sought you out in her free time, and you popped in her head even at awkward times like on missions. You had cracked through her hard outer shell and even though she was scared of her soft parts being exposed, it felt good.

“Nat, head in the game,” Steve shouted.

Natasha whipped around to see a HYDRA agent running directly at her. She flipped forward, kicking them in the head and then following through with her baton. The agent practically flew backward and landed in a heap.

“Nat’s daydreaming about her lover again,” Tony teased as he blasted his way through a bunker.

Natasha scowled. She had been distracted, and she had been thinking about you. This kind of grunt work always felt mindless and repetitive, like putting books into boxes. She was a spy - not a soldier and it was easy to start thinking about other things when she was doing such repetitive work, but usually, the only thing she had occupying her mind was the job and the mindless banter happening over the comms.

“Please never say lover again, Tony,” Clint teased. “That gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Thor says it all the time!” Tony argued.

“Yeah, but that’s Thor!” Clint said. “Thor can say all kinds of weird shit and it sounds good. Doesn’t mean you get to.”

“Why thank you, Barton,” Thor chuckled. “That is very flattering.”

“I’m as good as Thor!” Tony yelped.

There was a sudden group shouting of dissent and Natasha couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. She had always had such a love-hate relationship with the group’s banter during battle. It was nice being part of them, and she did enjoy dropping her own snarky comment into the mix but growing up the way she did - fights were serious - fun was for other people. It felt slightly wrong to be joking while you were also fighting for her life.

“Let’s all agree right now that no one, not even Thor mentions anything about my lovers,” Natasha snarked.

The group continued to fight, Natasha pushing all thoughts of you down and focusing on the job. By the time everyone had been arrested, the operation had been shut down and Natasha had performed the lullaby on Hulk, it was late and Natasha was exhausted to the bone.

She piloted the Quin back silently, just listening to Clint jabber away as her thoughts drifted back to you. She knew there would be a debrief to go to, but what she really wanted was to go straight to your place and curl up next to you before passing out for a good twelve hours.

She could wait. She was better at that now. Besides, it was worth the wait.

She guided the jet down onto the launch pad and as it drew the jet down into the hanger, she and Clint began the cool-down procedures. The back of the jet opened up and everyone got up and trudged off.

When Clint got up to disembark, Steve took his place. “What happened out there today?” He asked. “You nearly lost your head.”

“That’s why we’re a team, isn’t it?” Natasha asked. “Make sure no one misses anything? Get each other’s backs?”

“Of course,” Steve assured her. “And we’re all here to pick up the slack.”

“I’m hearing a big ‘but’ coming,” Natasha said.

Steve smiled and shook his head. “But…” he said. “It’s not like you, Nat. You always have your head in the game more than anyone else. You’re the one I don’t have to worry about. So when I do, it worries me. Is everything okay?”

Natasha frowned. Her head wasn’t in the game. Steve was right. She was happy and happiness meant her work was suffering.

“Everything is fine, Steve,” she said.

“You sure?” Steve said. “I’m only asking as a friend. If there was something up, I’d want to help.”

“It’s fine. I’ll sort it out,” Natasha said.

Natasha was exhausted by the time she showed up at your place. She hadn’t slept for almost thirty-six hours and she thought that she’d broken a rib in the battle. She needed to see you though. Rip it off like a band-aid. She liked you. She liked you a lot. So much that if she didn’t cut it off now it was going to turn into love and once that happened, she wouldn’t be able to do it. If she was with you, she would be worse at her job, and if she didn’t have her job, she was nothing.

She knocked on your door.

She could hear you singing on the other side and when you pulled the door open your whole face lit up. “Tasha!” You squeaked and launched yourself into her arms. She made a pained ‘oof’ sound as you wrapped your arms around her, but that didn’t hurt as much as her heart did right at this moment. You were always so cool and put together, the excitement and pure joy you expressed seeing her were too much. Natasha was going to hurt you and it was going to kill her to do it. “I didn’t know you were back. I am so happy to see you.”

“Krasotka,” Natasha said, closing her arms around you and breathing you in.

You must have heard the pain in her voice because you pulled back immediately and looked you over. “Are you hurt?” You asked, pulling her inside. “Let me get you some ice.”

“It’s fine,” Natasha assured you. “I’m fine.”

“I can tell you aren’t,” you said, guiding her to the couch and almost pushing her down on it to sit. “What do you need? Have you eaten? I can get you food. Something to drink?” You paused and quirked your eyebrow. “Earth-shattering orgasm?”

“Sit down, Krasotka,” she said. “We need to talk.”

You narrowed your eyes and took a seat, folding your arms over your chest. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Natasha nodded. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“‘This’ as in ‘us’?” You asked.

“That’s right,” Natasha said. Her heart was already hurting. She wished she was a stronger person. Someone who was allowed to have everything. Someone who could be in love and do her job. Someone who could be happy and not feel like the world was falling apart because of it.

“I supposed I should be glad you’re doing this in person,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “Do I get a reason?”

“Does it matter?” Natasha asked.

You nodded. “Yes. Because I know you’re happy when you’re with me, and I know you like me, so whatever it is, is stupid and if you say it out loud, I’m hoping you’ll be smart enough to figure that out yourself. I have faith in you.”

“I do like you,” Natasha said. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, raising your hands. “I don’t think I have ever gotten the ol’ it’s not you, it’s me before. Continue.”

Natasha was getting angry now. She had expected you to be upset, not hostile. She had prepared for tears and begging, not to be told she was an idiot. She sat up straight and folded her arms. “This is hard for me, okay? I don’t owe you an explanation. It was fun. But now it’s over.”

“And that’s that?” You said.

“Yes,” Natasha said, getting up. “That’s that.”

You stood up too, bailing her up against the wall. She was half tempted to actually fight you. If that’s what you wanted to make this, she was quite capable of kicking your ass. You brought your face close to hers, she could feel the warmth of your breath on her lips. “You’re making a mistake, Natasha. I don’t know what happened while you were gone that got you all up in your head and made you think you don’t deserve me, but it doesn’t really matter. The world is not a place of fairness or balance. It’s just random chaos and in that, you called to me and I came. You’re going to realize that breaking up is a mistake. I know you will because it is. We’re good together and you wanted me. I can wait. I’m very patient.”

A million different arguments popped into Natasha’s head but instead, she just pushed you away and stormed out. She had never felt the desire to cry as much as she did right now. Her heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces and she’d done it to herself. She walked down the street not even knowing where she was headed, all she knew was that she wanted to go back up to you and tell you she was sorry and that you were right, but her anger and her pigheadedness stopped her. There was a bar on the corner, she went straight inside. She wouldn’t cry but she would drink. Maybe she’d even find someone to take her home tonight. Right now she’d do anything to stop herself from thinking that she’d made a huge mistake.

// NEXT

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #patience

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mochibrokenheart · 3 years

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SVSSS: Guardian of the Museum

Mobei Jun x Shang Qinghua

Word Count: 2,756

Summary: Of course there's ominous growling and destruction to the building on Shang Qinghua's first night as a museum curator. Of course there is! Besides being desperate to keep the job, he's not sure what possesses him to actually walk toward the dangerous situation. His survival instincts were better trained that! Except...wait a minute...the terrifying creature causing all the ruckus is actually the hottest thing he's ever seen???

My first contribution for Moshang Monsterfucking Month (and my first fic for the fandom in general!) Heavy on the monster part as the nsfw is not explicit. Who knew that it would be hard to write something short. Inspired by the Day 2 prompt: horny.

Also posted on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34305571

A nearby bell tolled at midnight just as Shang Qinghua locked up the museum for the night, which meant that he was officially off for the weekend. Being a party of one, he celebrated with a groovy victory dance while turning the key over in the lock.

There was a little click and he rattled the knob, checking that the door was properly locked—if anything was stolen or vandalized during the night, he would most definitely be blamed as the recent hire!

The job was an important stepping stone in his career path plan to being a rare artifacts curator. He really needed the experience. It was hard enough to land the job, so he wasn’t above looking neurotic by double, and triple, and quadruple checking everything before he left.

A chilly breeze tussled his hair and raised goosebumps down his neck. It was October, he supposed while drawing up his hood to block the chill, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to complain.

He was much to delicate for cold temperatures and would exercise his right to curse out the changing seasons. Of course, he could move somewhere further south, so that he wouldn’t have to put up with it anymore, but still!

The only good thing about the loss of summer was the bugs, he decided.

Clearly, Shang Qinghua was irresistible because bugs treated his blood like an all-you-can buffet. If only hot men thought the same. But alas.

Sighing, he turned up to admire the full moon, who seemed to sympathize with the sad state of his romantic affairs, being the moon and all. Something about it’s pale gray-white color naturally emoted a sad, longing reflection.

It was as he was looking up that he heard a growl, loud not because of its pitch—it was actually quite low and gravelly—but because it vibrated the very air around him.

Shit. Shit. He wasn’t equipped to deal with some beast! He had no weapons and there was no way his body was going to get the job done either. He was a delicate flower, just ask the bugs who always feasted on him!

He rummaged through his bag frantically for his phone. That was what the authorities were for.

Opening his phone, his mind was racing. Who did you call when there was a potentially wild animal on the loose? The police? Animal control?

Gasp! What if it turned out to be a demon?

…!!!

He didn’t have any shamans or priests on speed dial. There had never been a reason to until then but if it would save him, he’d buy up every type of religious necklace he could and wear them around his neck daily. It was like insurance—it never hurt to cover all of his bases.

While he was wasting time on the sidewalk, what appeared to be small bits of gravel drifted down from what seemed like the roof. Scurrying to get closer to the streetlight, which casted a circular light on the steps of the museum, Shang Qinghua bent down to get a closer look.

It felt dusty when he rubbed his pointer finger against his thumb and did match the shade of stone the building was…The new evidence presented a bit of dilemma. Yes, he was still itching to call somebody have them do the dangerous work, but at the same time, his boss might fire him if something happened to the museum under his watch.

“Well, if there’s more damage, I guess I’ll take a look,” he muttered. He clasped his hands together. “But please, take mercy on me, moon! I promise that if you get me out of this that my next erotica will be dedicated solely to you, and in very large print, so that my readers know the reach of your mystical power!”

His hands remained clasped high above his head as he waited. So far so good.

There was still the scary growls, of course, but those didn’t count because he wasn’t going to investigate that. It was absolutely common knowledge that people who investigated weird sounds always ended up dead, at least in horror movies, and that was all the proof he needed to wash his hands of it.

No, the only thing that could sway him from his crouch on the front steps was…was…

Tears shimmered in his eyes as more rubble was knocked off from the roof, the fine particles irritating his nose and causing him to sneeze.

Thoroughly betrayed, he used his sleeve to wipe at his nose. Forget the moon. Clearly the bond he felt had only been one-sided, and now he was obligated to actually suck it up and put himself in harms way.

The Shang Qinghua of five minutes ago would’ve screamed and called himself a fool. Why ignore those highly honed flight instincts?! Even the Shang Qinghua of the present was screaming and calling himself a fool when he took the first hesitant step inside.

It was deceptively quiet in the stairwell but that wasn’t enough to calm him. As the saying went, it was the calm before the shit storm and he was about to be right in the middle of it. How careless of him.

Just in case this was the end, he started to draft an epitaph—it’s not like anyone else would put in the same amount of effort.

His minor following would be too busy wailing about the permanent book hiatus; his boss would have their hands full dealing with insurance over the architectural damage; and that hot-and-cold cucumber bro of his would still be nagging him in the afterlife, criticizing him for his stupid plan when it ‘clearly would’ve been better to do such and such’. But back to him.

We are gathered here to mourn the passing of one Shang Qinghua, a bright hamster that was taken from Earth far too soon. His exhibit work was flawless, his knack for collections cataloging unrivaled. There was never a day without bountiful office supplies with him around. We thank him for his singular brave—foolish?—sacrifice in the name of historical value. Shang Qinghua is survived by several dying houseplants and the stray dog he usually fed on his way home from work.

There. That sounded as good as he was likely to get. Wait. No. He almost left out the most important part: the secret letter of last words meant only for cucumber bro’s eyes. Bro, if you’re reading this it’s because I died a terrible and scary death. Please take pity and wipe all of my search history. It was all for research, honest! It’s bad taste to judge a dead man.

The access door to the roof was large and imposing in front of him, even though there was still no noise coming from the other side. He was going to be mad and then relieved, in that exact order, if this turned out to be nothing.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Jumped around and shook his hands where they hung down beside the length of his body. He’d watched enough athletes—for research!—throughout his short life and getting loose always seemed to pump them up for competition. The same principle should apply here.

The door gave with a loud screech and he suspected that it wasn’t in regular use. Not that there was probably much to see up there anyway. Just roosting pigeons, stone slabs, and—

His mind went blank.

Crouching in the corner, so close to the edge that all it would take was a gust of wind to send him tumbling down, was some sort of winged creature. And the wings were massive things that arched up before curving downward completely over it’s back, the tips draped on the ground. Judging by how large they were, they had to be functional, which nearly caused him to wet himself.

He didn’t want to imagine that thing taking flight after him. Not that he would be exciting prey. Gods, this probably how a mouse felt when a hawk was flying overhead.

But it was the horns that really caught his attention. They were hulking black spirals and the sharp points were pointed right at him. Even in the poor light, it was obvious that they were pure black. Any other time, he might comment on how cool they actually were, how they were a cosplayer’s dream, but it wasn’t cool when it was a matter of life and death.

And he would most certainly die if those menacing horns and wings were any indication.

Trying to keep the element of surprise, he slowly let the door swing shut. Until a little bat started flew over squeaking, which caused him to squeak as well. The door hit the frame with a loud rattle. His body went heavy with fear and his eyes snapped shut, a natural prey response. He had never, ever been this scared.

Not patient enough for Shang Qinghua to turn around on his own, the creature flung him around to face it with an aggressive growl. And he had thought it was loud when he was on the sidewalk. Which wasn’t true at all. It was much louder and more intimidating when it was right in his face.

“Trespasser!” it growled, teeth clicking.

…Okay, so it could talk. Maybe this was a good thing. Now could grovel with it to spare him!

Blinking rapidly, he opened his eyes and looked up, up, up. It didn’t look as horrific from the front as it did the back. In fact, it had a humanoid appearance and was distinctly male. He was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, a total fantasy come to life. How the hell was he real?

His was incredibly tall, his huge wings proportional to his size now that he was standing up. Now that he saw them up close, Shang Qinghua noticed that they were a beautiful shade of blue that started out dark but lightened to pale blue once it reached the tips, which also had sharp spikes—Nails? Claws? He wasn’t well versed in anatomy—attached.

The top of his ears were pointy, too, just like the tops of the wings. Oh, and the horns! There were two of them, both pure, glossy obsidian, that sprouted out on either side of his temple, the bases thick and ridged as they spiraled like a ram’s. The only difference was that his horns were much larger. He could maul someone with those along if he wasn’t careful.

But now that he considered it more—even in times of crisis, he could multi-task when it really counted—the horns only added more to his attractiveness. They were intimating, sure, but also sexy, in a monsterfucking type of way. He gasped as a clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Yep, he could definitely get into the horns and claws. Mark him down as scared and horny.

The growling died down but sharp teeth were still on display, and there was a stylized tattoo-looking mark on his forehead. Despite the snarl, Shang Qinghua instinctively knew that his face was insanely attractive; it had to be to match the rest of him. Speaking of the rest of him…

He dropped down in front of him, making sure to drag his hands down that ripped physique and gave his massive pectorals a quick squeeze before he landed on his knees in a kneeling position.

His face was right in front of the creature’s impressive package, covered only by a flimsy loin cloth. It fluttered in the night breeze and he had to bite down on his finger to stop his depraved moaning. “Ff-forgive me, my good-demon-sir, but I swear I’m not trespassing. I’m a humble worker here at this museum.”

He quickly took out his employee badge to offer it up to the demon who barely gave it a glance. “Gargoyle,” it said in reply.

“Oh. I’m sorry but I don’t really know what you mean by that.” Wait, why did he say that? He didn’t want to get further in the demon’s bad side than he already was! “I mean no offense, of course. I’m sure gargoyles are absolutely lovely—”

“No,” he interrupted, his face smoothed out into blank slate. It made it harder to read him but Shang Qinghua quickly decided that it was alright. “I am a gargoyle, human. You may address me as Mobei Jun.”

Ohhh. Now that he mentioned it, his wings and horns could belong to a gargoyle. He knew that they were popular parts historical buildings that had a strong Western influence, which the museum did.

“And I am a king. Not a sir.”

Curse his authority kink. He was sure that any new fantasies he conjured up would be staring this particular king and Shang Qinghua as his servant.

“Of course, my king! You’re reeking of kingly handsomeness. As a lowly human, my apologies for the obvious mistake.” The gargoyle king didn’t make any move to acknowledge his words other than a slow blink, so he figured that it was all good. “Excuse me if this sounds rude, but what are you doing up here? And what was all the noise about?”

“Guardian. I was charged with the safety of this place by a war lord.” Jeez. So he’d been with the building for centuries at least, maybe even millennia.

There was a pause and he realized that he wasn’t going to answer the second question. It also seemed like the gargoyle king was waiting on him and a light bulb went off. “S-sorry again my king. I am Shang Qinghua. I am in charge of the rare artifacts inside of the building, so you may see me closing up most nights.”

The gargoyle king nodded sagely and he figured that the role must be acceptable to him. A loud sigh left him and his muscles relaxed just in the slightest way. He might survive this encounter yet. Ever better, survive and be able to go home and break out that new bottle of lube that he bought last week. There was plenty of new material to work with, that was for sure.

Then the gargoyle stepped back, giving him more space, which was actually the opposite of what he wanted. Feel free to punish him for earlier transgressions, king, especially if they were rough in a sexy way!

Unaware of his inner pleadings, he continued walking away to crouch back near the edge of the roof.

“Umm, be careful, king. It’s dangerous to be that close—”

“I am a king. Concerns such as that are not applicable,” he said, puffing up his chest. Those pecs! He might have to put in a request tomorrow to do more work on the roof. It was a crime that no one was admiring that body on a regular basis. “Leave. Return home. The circles under your eyes are hideous.”

He gasped, touching his bags. Rude! He had just finished a long shift and definitely wasn’t at his best. He was going to have to step up his game if he was going to tempt this gargoyle in the future. Trying his best not to show embarrassment, or disappointment, he agreed to leave.

“Whatever you want, my king. I’ll leave for now but if you need anything, I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after as well. In fact, every night, in case you need me.” Screw his weekend off. Who needed one of those when there was a hot gargoyle of legend serving as the guardian of the museum. Not him, that’s who.

He scrambled to his feet and bowed again for good measure. The door was open and he was across the threshold when his dream gargoyle muttered something. “Did you say something, my king?”

He cleared his throat and spoke gruffly. “The pigeons pooped in my hair.”

Suddenly, the growling from earlier made sense. No matter if you were human or gargoyle, having birds shit in your hair, especially hair as luscious as Mobei Jun’s, was bound to make anyone furious.

Determined to keep his laughs to himself if it was the last thing he did, he merely replied, “Yes, my king. I will make sure to chase them away from you next time.”

“See that you do.”

On cloud nine, Shang Qinghua grinned as he bounded down the stairwell. The gargoyle’s comment implied that there would be a next time. And he intended to romance the loincloth off (literally) of the serious gargoyle king.

Hope you all enjoyed! So happy to share this with everyone. Thanks for reading :)

#svsss #svsss fanfic #mobei jun #shang qinghua #moshang

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

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Short Stack -- Part 3

This is it! The last part. Love you guys <3

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x Pro Hero! Fem! Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst, mentions of infertility, hint of child abandonment (it gets better though), fluff

Word Count: 4.7 k

Author’s Note: Reader is still a savage, Bakugou’s super freaking soft and also scared for once, all in all a happy ending. I had fun writing this.

Part 1 - Part 2

Enjoy the last part of Short Stack!

You wake up sweaty and tangled in the limbs of two very large men. At first it was disorienting, and there was a brief moment of panic before the memories of the previous night flooded your sleep-drowsy brain. Then you were stuck trying to figure out a way to escape the elaborate trap of sleeping hulks. You managed to wriggle out by their feet, mildly aware of the dull throbbing that pulsed through your legs, abdomen, and lower back.

Standing up and walking turned out to be a lot easier than you’d anticipated, which was a plus. So you slipped on your panties and one of the boys’ t-shirts, pulled the door open and went to go use the bathroom. As you quietly searched through the kitchen to make breakfast, you heard the bedroom door creak open and two sets of heavy footsteps make their way to the kitchen.

You turned to them and greeted them, and they leaned down and wrapped their arms around you, squishing you between them once again. Eijiro was the first to start whining like a child, “(y/n) let’s go back to beeeeed~” he groaned into your ear, nuzzling his nose into your neck. Katsuki grunted his approval, earning raised eyebrows from you. Katsuki was always up early, and always blasted the other out of bed, so him actively wanting to go back in between the sheets was shocking.

But, you were already wide awake, so you wriggled out of their grasp and pecked each one on the cheek. “You two can go back to bed, and I’ll come get you when breakfast is done, okay?” you proposed, stepping toward the fridge. Before you could get even a couple feet away, one of the two grabbed you by the waist and threw you over their shoulder.

You yelped at the movement and craned your neck, catching the spiky blonde hair at your waist. “Put me down ‘Suki!” you squealed and slapped his back. He grunted a low ‘no’ before tightening his grip on your waist. You rolled your eyes and got a devious look in your eyes. Without warning, you leaned forward, farther down his back, raised your hand, and smacked his ass as hard as you could.

That got his attention. He froze in place, and you could feel all the muscles in his arm seize. You couldn’t tell if it was from anger or shock, but you found out rather quickly when he threw you onto the couch and hunched over you, growling at you with narrowed eyes. Yeah, this was one of the few times you truly felt your size. Despite the shiver crawling up your spine, you stared right back at him and squeaked out, “I told you to put me down…”

He rolled his eyes and stood up straight. “You’re a fucking brat”. It was your turn to roll your eyes, and you had to bite your tongue to comment about him being an oversized angry pomeranian. But you weren’t ready to die at the hands of Ground Zero just yet. Kirishima was quiet through the whole scene, and suddenly spoke up. “Well since we’re all awake, I’m gonna head to the store and pick up some morning after pills for (y/n)”.

That was both the rudest and sweetest thing you’d ever heard. You giggled at the fact that he was thinking about you and your body’s repercussions from the night before, but said it out loud in such a blunt manner. But you stopped him before he could move. “It’s fine, Ei, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m on birth control”. You knew that was a lie. You weren’t on birth control. You also knew you didn’t need it. But they didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

As quickly as possible, you changed the subject. “So since we’re all up, what’s for breakfast?”. The three of you then began to contemplate the contents of the fridge and pantry, deciding cereal would be fine since you were all too lazy to cook anything.

Almost a year had passed since you started dating the two heroes, and life couldn’t be better. Along with the Saturday meetups, they often took you on dinner and lunch dates. Katsuki was less affectionate in public, choosing to hold hands at most, but Eijiro was cuddly no matter what, and he loved showering you with attention. You guessed it was because of the fact that Katsuki didn’t do anything with him in public, so now he had a subject to pour his affection into. The angry blonde didn’t seem to mind at all.

Media coverage got testy because they’d see you out with one or the other, so scandals brewed about for the first couple weeks. You chose to ignore it, knowing that eventually you’d be caught with both of them at the same time. Lo and behold, the scandal was really just a misunderstood romance, and the tabloids eventually dropped the subject of your relationship like it was last week’s news.

On one of your dates, they’d brought up the subject of living with them, and you happily accepted. It was great living with them. The sex was amazing, there were cuddles galore, and if you ever needed space they happily obliged. Katsuki was almost always in the kitchen, and Eijiro would sometimes snuggle him as he hunched over the stove. You couldn’t help smiling at the two. They were so adorable like that, and it made you happy that your two favorite people in the world loved each other so fully.

You had already discussed your trust issues with both of them, so they understood your reluctance to use the ‘L’ word with them. They never pressured you to do anything you didn’t want to, and they were happy to let you adjust to them. As you got closer, you felt your heart swelling at the sight of either of them, no matter what they were doing. You could stare at them all day and never get tired of them. They were nothing short of beautiful, and if you could spend the rest of eternity just looking at them it’d be too soon.

Being the gentlemen they are, they never asked for any detail regarding your unsavoury past, and if you avoided the topic like the plague, they did too. You often ended up asking them about their days at UA, and they’d go off rambling about their high school days, remembering details like it was yesterday. You loved when they were passionately recalling and recounting all the adventures they had, and the trials life threw at them. They actually panicked when you started crying the first time they talked about the USJ incident in their first year. They had no idea what they said to make you so sad, but you had to explain to them your extremely empathetic heart and how it only got worse when it was the people you cared about.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like life was perfect. You were so, so happy with them. You felt like you’d known them forever, and at the same time you were questioning where they’d been your whole life. You were opening up to them, and they made it easy for you to do so. And you hadn’t noticed just how much you’d healed from your emotional past until one glorious morning.

You’d been called in to patrol, and the two had the day off. Katsuki, as always, made breakfast before you’d even woken up. The three of you ate in bliss, and you quickly got changed into your hero costume once you’d cleared your plate. Just like you always did when you were parting ways, you kissed them both on the cheek and walked to the door to pull on your boots.

As you reached for the door handle, you let the words slip past your lips without a second thought. “I’ll be back around 7 tonight. I love you”. You didn’t quite register what you’d said until you looked back at the two men and saw them staring at you, wide-eyed and frozen in place. You tilted your head in confusion, but suddenly gasped at the realization. “Oh my god… I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking-” you were cut off by two large bodies crushing you between them, soft whimpers and sobs coming from both of them, warm tears falling onto your shoulders.

Eijiro pulled away to smother you in kisses, and Katsuki whispered into your ear, “We love you too princess. So much”. You melted into their affection, adoring how natural it felt to tell them how much you loved them and never wanting to let go. Unfortunately, your phone buzzed, bringing your attention back to the reason you were in your hero costume by the door.

“Okay you two, I gotta go. I’ll be back tonight and we can talk or cuddle or whatever. Deal?” They both pulled away, wiping away their tears, and chanted back “deal” in perfect unison.

You were grateful your patrol was villain-free the entire day. You knew you’d be fine if a villain were to pop up, but you just didn’t want to spoil your good mood. Your mind swam with thoughts, wondering what you’d talk about once you get back home, how weird it was to see Katsuki so emotional, how far you’d opened back up since meeting the duo. And the second you’d changed back into civilian clothes you bolted home.

Standing at the door, you took a deep breath to calm your bouncing nerves. They weren’t bad nerves, you were just excited, in a way. You were accepting the feelings you felt toward the two men in your life, fully acknowledging the feeling was undeniably love. You stepped into the apartment and were greeted with smothering kisses and hugs. Eijiro peppered your face with kisses, making you giggle, while Katsuki just held you from behind, squeezing you tight and nuzzling into your neck.

“Hi my big babies. I missed you today” you confessed. The kisses ceased just long enough for Eijiro to reply with a quick, “We missed you too little pebble”, before going back in and attacking you with kisses. You grabbed his face and held him still, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips before smiling at him. “Relax, Ei. I can feel you shaking” you giggled. He looked so happy, like a puppy that saw his human for the first time in weeks. It was adorable and it melted your heart.

Katsuki refused to waste any more time, and lifted you up in a princess carry. You ended up in a bed, with two large bodies squishing you between them. The warmth from their bodies soothed you, and you relaxed into the bed. Soon enough you were all talking about random things. Somehow, though, the conversation ended up in the one place you really didn’t want it to go.

The subject of children popped up after talking about an adorable child you witnessed smelling a flower out on patrol. You kept gushing about how cute kids are, their squishy chubby cheeks and pudgy little hands grabbing at everything in sight. And Eijiro wondered out loud what it would be like to have little mini-versions of the three of you running around. At that you went dead silent.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your jaw, not prepared for this conversation. You knew it would happen eventually, in fact you’d thought about it a lot since your first night with the men. But there was only one way out of this conversation without lying to them or hurting them worse than the truth could. So, after nearly a minute of silence, you took a deep breath and sat up. “I think we should take this conversation to the kitchen table. I need to tell you something important”. They agree, a bit confused at the sudden serious tone of your voice.

As they settled into their chairs, you put on a pot of tea and let silence fall over the room. It was quiet while the tea brewed, while you poured three cups, and as you sat in your own chair in between your boys. “So… Eijiro brought up the thought of having kids earlier”. Eijiro quickly interjected, “It’s fine if you don’t want kids! It was just a random thought!”. You smiled softly and shook your head, “Just listen, Ei”. He nodded slowly, giving you the space to talk.

You took a deep breath and a sip of your tea. “I knew kids would come up eventually. And I won’t lie to you, I’ve imagined far enough into the future that the thought of raising children with my beautiful boyfriends has crossed my mind more times than I can count”. You blushed a little at the confession, the two looking at you with raised eyebrows, but still silent to let you talk.

“The night you confessed to me, the first night we spent together. The next day Ei offered to go get me morning after pills. I told him not to worry because I’m on birth control. But I lied”. Now they looked at you completely baffled. But, they still remained silent, focused on you so you could explain further.

“There’s no easy way to say this” you knitted your eyebrows together and swallowed hard, “I can’t have kids”. Your hands were shaking around the teacup. You took another deep breath and stared into the tea, not wanting to look up at the faces of the loves of your life. “There was an… accident… when I was younger. I’m physically incapable of ever having children of my own”. The last sentence was nearly a whisper as you tried to hold back tears.

A large hand took the teacup from your trembling fingers. Eijiro and Katsuki took each of your hands into their own, squeezing them tight. You finally look up at your boyfriends, who looked back at you with nothing but love. The tears you willed not to spill began pouring down your cheeks, and the two brought you into a comforting hug. They let you cry until your chest burned and your eyes wouldn’t produce anymore salty tears.

As your hiccups calmed, they moved. Katsuki took the teacups to the sink as Eijiro carried you back to bed. They curled up around you, holding you tight between them. They reassured you that they loved you no matter what, and that if you really wanted kids in the future, there were many other options. They hushed you to sleep, whispering sweet words in your ears as you drifted.

It’s officially been five years with your two gorgeous boyfriends. The three of you bought rings three years in. You didn’t mind that there was no official ceremony, or official marriage, as long as you had each other. And that’s how life was, the three of you loving each other and working as pro heroes. Things got a bit scary a couple times, when there were major villain attacks and one of you ended up in the hospital. But all in all, the past five years were the best years of your life.

Today was a special day, you could just feel it. You breezed through your routine of getting ready to go out on patrol, and left the house. Your patrol route was relatively incident-free through lunch. It was around 2 in the afternoon when things got intense.

As you strolled down the street, you felt tremors in the ground. At first you’d thought it was an earthquake, but you realized the tremors were steady, short, and getting stronger. They were footsteps. And whatever was making them was giant. You instantly materialized Eraserhead’s capture weapon and swung yourself up along the power lines and ran above the streets, following the tremors. As you turned the corner, you saw him. Easily 30 feet tall (9 meters) and his shoulders were wide enough he nearly took out the buildings on either side of him as he walked.

Damn, where was Mount Lady when you needed her? You had no way to take care of this on your own. But you settled for trying to lead him away from the city. You jumped into action, throwing things to get his attention. Once you had it, you swung for the park that was a few blocks down. You passed by a few other heroes on your way, and you materialized and threw walkie talkies down at them. “I’m leading him to the park, away from the buildings. Clear the street and then help me take him down”. They instantly began clearing pedestrians from the street, and a few went ahead to the park to clear the civilians out.

You reached the park, the giant close behind, and you led him to the middle of the field, finally away from anything he could topple. You spun around to face him, and the other heroes arrived seconds later, ready to pounce. Looking around, you noticed a couple had flying quirks or something of the like. You also noticed top heroes. Shouto, quirks fire and ice, Uravity, levitation quirk, Creati, creation quirk, and none other than your boyfriends, Red Riot and Ground Zero.

You spoke into the walkie talkie, the other heroes still holding theirs. “Shouto, freeze him in place” He did exactly that, giving you time to explain the plan you’d formed in your head. “Alright, listen up. He’ll break out of that ice soon, so here’s what’s gonna happen. Creati, I need you to make the longest, thickest chain you can as fast as possible. Start now. Ground Zero and Red Riot, you cover Creati. Uravity, I need you to make this giant levitate as soon as he breaks free and hold it as long as you can. When that happens, the two with the flying quirks carry him up 100 feet (30 meters) in the air and not any higher. Once Uravity’s quirk wears off, let him drop. He’ll probably land on his feet, but when he does, I’ll grab one of his ankles and throw him off balance. Once he falls, I need Shouto to freeze him again, and by that time the chain should be done. Once he’s down, we wrap him in the chain and he’ll be immobilized. Is everyone ready?”

You got a resounding ‘Ready!’ through the walkie, and no sooner than you did, the giant managed to break free. You all sprung into action, and the plan went smoothly. Soon the giant was immobilized in the middle of the field, wrapped in the chain Creati made. She was nearing her limit, and so was Uravity, but they assured you they’d be okay. The police had shown up just as the fight ended, and they had quirk-cancelling gear, and once the giant was normal sized again, he was hauled off to the station.

You and the other heroes gathered together, and Eijiro and Katsuki instantly swarmed you, checking if you were alright and smothering you in kisses and hugs. You assured them you were fine, and once they let you go you addressed the other top heroes. “Thank you guys for trusting me enough to follow my plan. And I’m sorry to put such a strain on Uravity and Creati, but you were crucial parts of the plan, so thank you for pushing yourselves”.

Creati spoke first, “Of course sweetie! It’s not that bad, I’ll be just fine! And that was a brilliant plan!” Uravity spoke next, “Yeah! How’d you get that out so fast? And where did the walkies go? And how did you use Aizawa-Sensei’s scarf? It came out of nowhere!” Shouto butted in, “Yes, your plan was thorough. And about the scarf, where were you storing it?” You stopped them all, the praise and questions getting a bit overwhelming, but you answered them all one by one, and explained your quirk to them.

All the while, you couldn’t see Ground Zero and Red Riot beaming behind you, pride radiating off their bodies. Suddenly you felt a large arm around your shoulders, “Leave her alone, you extras. She doesn’t need to talk to you” Katsuki growled at them. You narrowed your eyes and formed a plan instantly. You knew he was just proud and jealous, but you didn’t need your boyfriend to be rude to the other top heroes.

You grabbed his wrist and ducked under his arm, twisting it so it was behind his back. Then you swung your leg around his ankle and pushed forward on his back, sending him face first into the grass, and you grabbed his other arm and pulled it behind his back so he couldn’t push himself up. You knew he’d never use his quirk on you, but just in case, you materialized quirk-cancelling cuffs and cuffed him behind his back.

You stood up beside him, one foot still on his back, smiling at the others who were stunned in place. All except Eijiro, who was rolling on the ground laughing. “I’m sorry for his behavior, he’s a little rough around the edges” you apologized quickly. You didn’t realize they all went to the same school. Shouto was the first to inform you, “It’s alright, we know he’s a handful. We were all in the same class at UA, so we’re used to his temper” He glanced down at Katsuki, who was now growling up at you.

Uravity started giggling, “Wow, nobody’s ever been able to take Bakugou down like that without coming out of it with burns!” You smiled at that, understanding the situation. You bent down and released Katsuki, who grabbed your wrist and yanked you close, so your noses almost touched. He was pissed off, and he growled as he spoke, “You’re in trouble you brat” You looked him in the eyes and gave him a wicked sadistic grin, “Is that a challenge, Suki?” His face dropped, and he paled a little.

You’d only made that face once before, and it ended with him cocooned in your capture weapon, quirk-cancelling cuffs on him, completely immobilized on the couch of your apartment for an entire day, you and Eijiro feeding him when he got hungry, but otherwise completely neglecting and ignoring him. At the end of it, he was apologizing and cuddling you, and you promised that if you ever had to do that again, it would be a lot worse. He knew he deserved it that time, and he wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

He swallowed thickly, and let go of your wrist. You got up on your tiptoes and leaned close to his ear and whispered so only he could hear you. “I know I embarrassed you a little bit and I’m sorry about that, but you don’t get to decide who I talk to, and you don’t get to punish me like a child when I don’t do what you like. Understand?” He swallowed again and nodded. You stood up and smiled at him. “Good” you reached up and pecked him on his cheek. When you turned back to the others, they were gawking again. Shouto was the first to break out of his shock and he spoke up. “You’re scary”.

You chuckled at his comment. Eijiro comes up and hugs you. “Yeah, she can be scary. Isn’t it great? She only ever got mad at Katsuki once though, and it whipped him into shape fast”. The conversation died down quickly after that, and you all went your separate ways. You told Katsuki and Eijiro to go ahead of you and you’d meet them there, you were going to do a sweep of the area to make sure nobody was hurt. You knew the police and a few other pros did that already, but you just wanted to be sure, because you can miss things sometimes.

Your two boyfriends left for the agency, and you began to search the empty park. You were about ¾ done when you heard it. A baby, and it was crying. You froze in place, and began to gauge where it was coming from, following it to a small patch of forest. It was close. You searched around the foliage until you came to a small bundle, covered in dirt. The bundle was completely wrapped, the cries muffled. You quickly picked up the bundle, unwrapping it completely, and tears ran down your face at the sight.

The child was completely nude underneath, save for a diaper, and their little limbs were stuck against their body and turning blue from lack of blood, clearly from being swaddled so tightly. You materialized your corset and lay it down, and you placed the child on the cape, using it as a blanket. You needed to get the blood flowing back into their limbs, so you gently massaged the little limbs and stretched them little by little until there was color in their skin again. You ripped the cape off the corset body and loosely wrapped the child to carry it to the nearest hospital.

The nurses took the baby and assured you that it would be okay. They let you stay with the baby while they contacted the police to figure out if anybody was missing a baby. You called Katsuki and Eijiro to meet you at the hospital, and they were there in minutes, panicked at why you were there. You explained what happened, and they calmed after cursing whoever would leave a baby out there to die. Soon you had to leave the baby at the hospital. They would take care of the baby until they could find the parents.

You went back every day for an entire week. They had taken blood for a dna match, but nothing came up. Whoever the parents were, they weren’t in the system, meaning they were most likely either criminals or villains. Of course. Soon they were looking to find orphanages that could take the child. But you couldn’t just let him get put into foster care. You’d gotten attached to him. So, you went home with a mission in mind.

When you got home, dinner was ready. You ate, subtly bringing up the baby when you could. Your boyfriends didn’t seem to catch on, which was both good and bad. After dinner, you kept them at the table to discuss exactly what was on your mind.

“So, do you remember the conversation we had a few years back, about me not being able to have kids?” They both nodded. “Well, I’ve been thinking. About the child I found at the park. They want to put him in foster care, because they can’t find the parents” You looked up at your boyfriends, who were looking at you intently. You couldn’t quite read their expressions, so you continued. “I won’t lie, I got attached to the child. And I was thinking a lot, and I wanted to ask you two if we could...adopt him”

The silence was deafening, but as you looked at your boyfriends, their expressions changed. Eijiro had the biggest grin you’d ever seen, and Kastuki had a genuine smile on his face for the first time. They both choked on their tears, and nodded furiously. “Of course, princess. We’d love to adopt the boy” Katsuki said. Now it was your turn to cry. You were going to start a family.

Not a week later, you had an early retirement, deciding your job as a pro hero could wait, and the little baby boy you’d found in the forest had a brand new home with you and your boyfriends. But you couldn’t call them your boyfriends anymore, no. They were your husbands, official or not, and they were the fathers to your adopted child. And they vowed to protect him with their lives.

You watched from the doorway as the two ogled over the baby, making faces and letting him grab their fingers, and you settled into your happy life with your three babies. The three loves of your life.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou bnha

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davids-cartoon-corkboard · 4 years

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I have said a Lot about the “Raph is a system” theory over the past several months, so this is something of a compilation post. It’s got some new stuff, it’s got some old stuff. (You’re reading Part 1) (Part 2 is here) (Part 3 is here)

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Firstly, “system” is the term for someone with Dissociative Identity Disorder, or DID. (The term can also apply to some folks with OSDD.) Someone might develop DID after experiencing long-term trauma at an early age- roughly five or six years old. To paraphrase the DSM-V:

1. We’ve seen three (possibly four) distinct personality states who speak, act, and perceive others differently.

2. The personality states, or “alters”, don’t necessarily share memory, and Donnie insinuated in “The Clothes Don’t Make the Turtle” that Raph has a bad memory in general.

3. Problems arise when alters don’t get along or aren’t on the same page. That none of them seem to be quite aware they’re a system doesn’t help either; it’s hard to work on communication and cooperation when you don’t know they need to be worked on!

4. This whole situation isn’t a normal part of a broadly accepted cultural or religious practice, or just Raph playing make-believe. (Though I wonder if he had “imaginary friends” when he was younger...)

5. It’s also not because Raph’s been smoking the devil’s lettuce or whatever. “Pizza Puffs” was one long weed joke and he was the only one “sober” (not poisoned) throughout! We don’t see this happen to other mutants, so it’s not a bizarre side effect of mutagen either.

(I’ve seen a few people joke that Mikey has “multiple personalities”, but that’s a tad yikesy and also just plain incorrect. His “doctor” personas are something he does deliberately, and youngest siblings are just Like That.)

So yeah, Raph is pretty heavily DID-coded. We’ve seen four alters so far:

“Host” Raph (HR): He’s our everyday Raph. A “host” is an alter who fronts most of the time and takes care of “business as usual” situations. They are often unaware of past traumatic events, such that they can appear “normal”. (Ex: the host of a child who lives with an abusive parent could be unaware of the abuse. Otherwise, they might cry or be uncooperative whenever the parent is near, further invoking their wrath. This unawareness allows them to be a “good child”, and stay under the parent’s radar sometimes.) Some systems have more than one host, but that the others have shown up so rarely in this story suggests HR is the only host (for now?).

Savage Raph (SR): Debuting in “Man vs. Sewer”, he’s a survival-oriented alter. HR probably could have defeated the Sando Brothers on his own under normal circumstances, but being in the middle of a breakdown doesn’t do much for your fighting skills. SR got pulled to the front to deal with them instead.

“Red” Raph (RR): “Red” is just a placeholder since we don’t actually know his name yet (or even if he has one, not all alters do), though I’ve also heard folks call him “Angel”. He’s got a “tough love” approach to problem-solving, which was probably a helpful thing in the past. LDM were no doubt rowdy children! We were (officially) introduced to him in “Pizza Puffs”.

Mind Raph (MR): MR could just be a manifestation of HR's thought process via Cartoon Goofery, but that possibility doesn’t give me anything to work with so I’m ignoring it. He’s pretty similar to HR, maybe a tad more upbeat. We (officially) met him in “Raph’s Ride-Along”.

When “Pizza Puffs” first aired, I was like “ah yes, this is the alter who has the cranky edgelord tendencies we’ve seen in previous iterations of Raph. He probably broods on rooftops in the rain when he’s in a bad mood.” Combining that with the whole “Red Angel” thing gives off some Batman vibes. And, of course, SR is similar to the Hulk. Those two heroes are pretty different, but they do have one major thing in common...

A sudden, violent loss. Given how prevalent rushing water is throughout “Man vs. Sewer”, I’m thinking a flood came through and separated Raph from his family. (You could probably argue that turbulent water symbolizes a turbulent subconscious? 🤷) Again, DID stems from long-term trauma, so Raph must have been gone for... a while. A couple of months, maybe more? It’s hard to say exactly; we have a little wiggle room when applying human developmental psychology to a human/turtle mutant. Since Splinter still needed to care for the other three, he wouldn’t have been able to devote much time to searching for Raph, and the New York City sewers go on for miles and miles. The longer Raph was alone, the more convinced he would have been that the others had drowned and he was the only survivor.

How old would he have been? I know the turtles are “different ages”, but they were all mutated at the same time so I’m pretty sure Splinter was just like “the littlest one is the youngest, the biggest one is the oldest, and the medium-sized ones are the middle children.” They’re all probably fourteenish by “Finale”. Back in “MvS”, Leo said, “You know how savage Raph gets when he’s alone”. He didn’t say anything like, “You know how savage Raph gets when he’s alone ever since such-and-such an incident happened”. This suggests that LDM straight-up don’t know something traumatic happened to Raph; they were too little to retain concrete memories of that time. In their minds, Raph has always been like this. Draxum isn’t known for his patience, so even though he wasn’t able to immerse the hatchlings in mutagen for long, they probably mature a bit faster than humans. And since humans usually can’t remember anything from before four years of age, three sounds about right for the turtles, though they would have been stronger and steadier on their feet than any human toddler. I doubt Raph would have survived otherwise.

I think he’s sort of... “stuck” back in that trauma. Catching food, building a fire, making a weapon, and getting camouflage aren’t the behaviors of someone who’s only been gone for a few minutes.

When SR called for help, I don’t think he was expecting anyone to answer.

But Raph did manage to hang onto something as he was swept away! It wasn’t much, but that little ragdoll gave him comfort while he was scared and alone.

(The rabbit design on Bruce’s pajamas is probably a coincidence, but...)

Raph seems the type to have sympathy for odd-looking toys. His knockoff Mrs. Cuddles plushie was the emotional crutch he needed back then.

And then he was separated from that as well. Lowkey associating Mrs. Cuddles with this traumatic event would explain why HR was so scared of her. That he doesn’t remember the trauma means he has no context for this fear, making it seem silly and baseless to him (and to the rest of his family), which is why he denied being scared at all in the first part of the “Mrs. Cuddles” episode. It would also explain why he collects teddy bears instead these days, they are a “safe” toy. (The moral of the story is to not make fun of triggers that seem silly.)

(I wonder what would happen if Mrs. Cuddles encountered Savage Raph? Perhaps he’d be quite sympathetic towards such a lonely little raggedy thing! Timestuck as he is, he probably wouldn’t question why a stuffed animal can talk... and it wouldn't be hard for her to persuade her “new bestest fwiend” to get rid of some “mean ol’ nasty sewew monstews” for her.)

That whole “sewer monsters” thing suggests Raph ran into... something while he was wandering alone. Y’all have heard those rumors about alligators living in the New York City sewers, right? Encountering Leatherhead could trigger a flashback.

It would be pretty easy to introduce Leatherhead into the narrative. One of the episodes the Rise crew had planned was titled “The Island of Dr. Noe”, and alligators have very impressive teeth. The Mirage comics had a story where Leatherhead and several cryptids were brought to an island to be hunted for sport.

Noe seems to have quite a few cronies/friends/rivals he could entertain this way. Since he’s got that obsession with Raph, Noe captures him as well, knocking him out with those darts so he can’t waste his energy trying to escape too soon. (Let’s just assume everyone’s powers are glitchy because they all hit another wave of puberty, meaning they can’t just curbstomp the lower-level villains lol.)

HR wakes up on the island and, of course, starts to panic because he’s lost and alone. While wandering, he runs into Leatherhead, which would trigger a flashback to getting attacked by that alligator all those years ago. But Leatherhead doesn’t want to fight! He’s just as scared and confused as HR is, and could really use a partner to help him survive this island.

HR and SR come into conflict because Leatherhead is/isn’t/is/isn’t/is/isn’t a threat. HR eventually wins out, reasoning that even if Leatherhead is that alligator, it wouldn’t be fair to judge him for what he did back when he was an animal.

But time and dissociation can make memories unclear. That our first look at Leatherhead was in Draxum’s “bluh bluh I’m gonna mutate all the humans” bit in “Bug Busters” means he’s a human-base mutant. He wasn’t the alligator back then, but the hunter tracking it. Leatherhead isn’t one of Noe’s targets, he is one of Noe’s guests! And he wants no one to interfere with his quarry, so he’ll play nice long enough for him and the snapper to take out the rest of the hunters and the freaks. Then the two of them will have the island all to themselves...

Years and years ago, Jack Marlin was a big game hunter prowling the New York City sewers in search of an alligator. He did manage to find and kill one, only to realize it had also been hunting! He had inadvertently saved the strangest little turtle creature.

Marlin had become too skilled at this point, the hunt held no challenge for him. This turtle sounded very young, and he was quite big and strong already. An adult could be tough and intelligent enough to entertain him. Marlin tried to get Raph to lead him back to “the others”. But Raph had been lost for some time, and as far as he knew, his family was dead. Hearing that put Marlin in quite the sour mood. A little mutant snapper is a better catch than none at all, so Marlin tried to haul Raph off. Raph fought back and bit off Marlin’s hand. He escaped, but lost his rabbit in the scuffle. Marlin retreated as well, taking some time to recover, scheme, and hunt other game. (And to pocket that rabbit. The blood loss had made him woozy, and he wanted to have some kind of proof he hadn’t just hallucinated the snapper.) Perhaps he turned that alligator’s hide into a vest, which provided the genetic material for his mutation when he eventually got bit by an oozesquito. Like his Mirage counterpart, Marlin didn’t take losing a limb as a sign he should retire, and instead got a tricked-out prosthetic. Who knows what he could do with it in such a mystic setting as Rise.

Raph eventually reunited with his family, but those distrustful, high-strung survivalist traits he had picked up weren’t helpful anymore. He once again had to be the good and patient big brother who didn’t bite when someone play-tackled him or shook him awake at three in the morning because they’d had a nightmare. Those two states gradually got partitioned off more and more, and now they know little, if anything, about each other.

So Leatherhead and HR are chasing away some mothmen or whatever, and things are going pretty well... until one of them knocks Leatherhead over and a familiar ragdoll rabbit falls out of his pocket. SR realizes that Leatherhead is Marlin and switches in to fight him off again. They’re evenly matched, or perhaps SR is even in danger of losing, when LDM arrive to provide support. Leatherhead is enough of a tactician to know that he should retreat. Donnie and Mikey pursue him while Leo stays behind, placing the rabbit in his stunned brother’s hands. “Remember when Pops made this for you? You were always really gentle with it, ‘cause he wasn’t good at sewing back then...”

(This thing really needs patching up, he’s got sewing stuff for whenever he needs to fix his bears/Blue isn’t a threat on his own/Wasn’t he just back at the lair?/Blue gave back the rabbit/Why does he feel like he got hit by a train?/Blue doesn’t want to fight?/ ...Leo?) And that’s enough for HR to switch back in. He’s probably missing memory from his whole time on the island, so while Leo does his best to tell him what happened, they don’t have enough puzzle pieces between them to truly figure out what's going on.

They defeat the bad guys, release the cryptids, save the day, etc. (Leatherhead managed to lose Donnie and Mikey in the woods. A battle for another day.) Once they return to the lair, HR gets help from Draxum to modify the memory spell from “E-Turtle Sunshine” so he can try to fill in the gaps. Surely he wouldn’t get rejected by his own subconscious... right?

Cue part three in the saga of Raph Punches Himself In The Face. SR isn’t happy that HR is essentially trying to poke at an improperly-healed wound, and attempts to chase him off. HR assumes that SR is just a psychic white blood cell like the Lou Jitsu constructs in Splinter’s mind, and retaliates.

But, of course, fighting is not the answer here. All that accomplishes is giving the body bruises. Eventually HR realizes “stay away” and “back off” are a little different than “get out”, and that SR is just scared. So HR tries another tactic. Over the following days and weeks, he tunes in to calmer memories and just sort of... talks. About what happened yesterday, about his teddy bear collection, about how he finally managed to get a good picture of that pizza pigeon. It takes a while to establish a connection, and even then, it’s spotty at best. Using the spell too much can cause headaches and nightmares. There are days when SR is nearby, and days when he’s not there at all. But he shows up when he can.

And then there’s awkward, stilted conversation and questions neither of them know how to answer and questions neither of them want to answer and more scrapes and bruises and strained silences and apologies, but they finally, finally reach a compromise. SR still doesn’t let HR near those memories, but he tells HR what happened as best he can. (The audience would see those memories, with SR as a voiceover.) Afterwards, HR still visits the mindscape that’s starting to become more solid. They talk some more, they watch light and shadow flow around them, they listen to half-forgotten lullabies on scratchy old cassette tapes. Eventually, HR doesn’t even need to use the memory spell, meditation is enough.

They’ll never get along all the time. But it’s a start.

(SR is going to be so clingy when it finally clicks for him when he finally lets himself believe that his family is alive.)

---

This took eight million years lmao. Parts 2 and 3 will come out eventually, they’ll focus more on MR and RR. Let me know if I need to tag this stuff as anything.

The usual disclaimer applies, I am not a system or a mental health professional so if you’re one or both of those things then feel free to give me some of that good good constructive criticism.

#you called for help... but nobody came.#rottmnt #rottmnt theory #the 'raph is a system' theory #rottmnt raph #savage raph #mrs. cuddles #leatherhead #jack marlin #plot bunnies free to a good home lmao #long post

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 14: No Call No Show

Characters: Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: We find out where Shane went Monday after work and exactly why she hasn’t been responding to any attempts at communication…and unfortunately, she’s not just taking some “me time.”

Want to reminisce about when this was just a happy little fluffy romance? Return to chapters past, or look at my other smutty drabbles here!

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: SHANE FIGHTS BACK, BUT DEFINITELY GETS HER ASS KICKED, SO FAIR WARNING, IT’S VIOLENT. Language, mature themes, emotional abuse, mention of narcotics (morphine), vomiting, foreshadowing and mention of potential future violent/non-con/dub-con activities, but if those acts occur, they will not be portrayed on the page, but rather between chapter or section breaks, so don’t worry. Also, I use the “R” word, but not to discuss non-con, but rather to add an educational note about why one should yell “fire” when one is being assaulted. Basically no Sy material whatsoever, but he’s mentioned, so I’m tagging it as such! Shane being somewhat blasé about her mortality. I really don’t want to trigger anyone, so please read with caution or wait until you emotionally are ready to deal with our girl going through the shit.

Author’s Note: Really REALLY nervous about this one. This is not the resolution you are looking for, my friends. In fact, it’s not a resolution, at all. Lol. I foresee many people disliking this chapter for some reason or another. That’s actually okay. It’s not a chapter you’re meant to “like” per se. I don’t “like” it. I’m prepared for it to get very few notes, and I’m positioning it anyway. I think it’s some of my better writing, but I hated putting Shane through the ringer like this. It’s just one of those chapters you “get through.” And honestly, if you truly didn’t like it please give me feedback so I can improve and tweak. {For reasons other than “My beebeeeeee!” or “never mention anything less than consensual ever again kthxbye” because a) of all, MY beebee too, and b) of all, that’s what warnings are for and why they should be read.} That being said, I hope it at least tides you over until the next chapter. At least you know where she is…not that THAT’S a big relief under the circumstances! Lol!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Previously, in Virginia…

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. "

"I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her."

Three days earlier, in Missouri…

Shane blinked her eyes open to little avail. She couldn't tell where she was, other than what seemed to be the back seat of a fairly new-model large vehicle, like a Suburban or a Tahoe. She thought it was new because the new car smell was still overpowering the nicotine and tobacco odor of at least one of its occupants. She could also smell the sickly sweet stench of artificial cherry permeating the cabin. The source must be very close to her nose as she lay there helplessly restrained while the vehicle jostled down the road. The smell reminded her of the horrible liquid pain reliever her mother would give her as a child when she had a fever or leg pains. She had taken enough of it then to make her averse to most cherry flavorings as an adult. She wanted to retch.

She could also make out the faint glow of a dashboard lit with LED lights, brighter and softer than those of older models. But she soon had to shut her eyes again. Her head was throbbing and her memories were fuzzy. She remembered very little of Monday…was it still Monday? But she was trying to think, despite the pounding of many drums in her cranium where a brain should be.

She remembered staying at work late to finish notes. She remembered heading home…and she remembered forgetting her phone at her desk and deciding to turn around to get it…when suddenly she was surrounded by vehicles and unable to move without having an accident. Had she known the circumstances then, she would have tried to muscle through. The horrific events came flooding back in traumatic flashes like lightning, or the pulse of passing streetlights in an unfamiliar city.

She remembered…

The glass by her left ear shattered. A hooded, hulking figure reached in through the new opening, fumbling for the handle to open the door. She'd had the presence of mind to fight back there. To punch at the probing extremity. But the extremity hit back, landing a solid smack against her left cheek, stunning her for long enough that the cruel apparition found the unlock button, pressed it, and opened the door. She didn't go quietly. She fought like the hellcat her mother always told her to be. Her foot found the odd solar plexus and groin before enough dark nemeses arrived to overpower her. They dragged her away from her car and out onto the pavement of the church parking lot she'd used to turn around. She did not make it easy for them. She kicked and punched and tried to twist out of their grips like vices. She yelled "fire" as she was taught as a young woman, not knowing the men's intentions, but certain they weren't kind, and knowing that yelling "rape" was not always effective at summoning help. Either way, it didn't matter. She could have shouted anything. No one was near enough, or cared enough, to come to her aid. As soon as her soft hands hit the gritty pavement, though, the violence intensified. She lost count of how many times she got kicked in the back, stomach, ribs. One asshole even kicked her in the tit. She'd find out who that was and he'd find himself in a special brand of pain…if she ever got out of this alive. She heard them calling her awful names that she was sure she hadn't earned, and especially not from these guys. About six of them, she thought. She hardly knew six guys. She certainly didn't know six guys that would want her roughed up like this. She heard one of the men start to say "Come on, guys, we better save some for--" and with that, she blacked out to the tune of the distinct "thunk" of a wooden baseball bat making contact with the back of her head.

She wanted to forget…for it to be a terrible nightmare…to wake up.

But she was awake. This was a waking nightmare. The cold leather on her cheek was made colder by the harsh air conditioning blowing toward her from above and below. She shivered from the chill and from the terror she was trying to suppress. Where were they taking her? For what purpose? And for whom were they leaving parts un-bruised…though it didn't feel like it.

She finally felt them slowing, heard a turn signal clicking, the courtesy of which she applauded despite her position in the active abduction taking place, and felt the gentle displacement of her body toward the driver side, knocking her head into the door. A right turn. Not that it would matter too much, but at least when she escaped, and she made herself think "when" and not "if," she would know which direction to turn to get back to town.

The blow to the head had left her sensitive to light and sound. As she was yanked from the back seat, all she could see was the glow of a dusk to dawn light above them. Normally a soft, guiding light, this one just as well have been the sun itself the way it stung her tender eyes. She squinted against it, thankful as she never would have thought to be, when a shroud was placed over her throbbing head. She could still hear the power coursing through the bulb and fixture, though. Normally a dull hum, in the state she was in, it was as loud as accidentally switching your TV to the snow channel at full volume.

"Bring 'er inside." She heard an unfamiliar male voice say.

Two strong, ruthless hands grabbed her by the armpits, causing her to cry out in pain. Such a tender place to bear weight, and why even big strong Sy hated crutches…Sy. Would she ever see him again?

"Shut up, bitch, or we'll knock you out again." She believed them, and being fairly certain she had at least a mild concussion, she wasn't sure what a second blow of an indeterminate velocity might do to her brain. She dealt with the stabbing pain as the men dragged her across what sounded like gravel, then grass, then something hard and smooth, maybe the slabs of an old, sunken, and somewhat uneven footpath. Soon, she felt the pain of her knees hitting what she assumed were porch steps. One, two, three of them. She was trying to concentrate through the fog now setting in, and maintain consciousness. Paying attention to the sensations, she told herself, was not only helpful for that task, it might help her escape. Remember the scents, too, she reminded herself. She tried to shake off the nauseating cherry and cigarette stench from her olfactory glands and take note of the bouquet around her.

Burnt leaves…gasoline…engine grease…the tang of sappy, just cut firewood…straw…manure…this seemed to be a farm. With a barn nearby…perhaps with horses. She loved horses. If she could find a gentle horse in the night…escape might be easier than she'd anticipated.

Entering the house was a noisy affair. There was a metallic keening from the spring of an aluminum screen door. She imagined it had one of those big swirly cross beams like her grandma's used to have that she always though was supposed to resemble a butterfly. A heavier, wooden door creaked open as the three figures muddled their way in, and the floorboards protested, as well, at the weight of her captors. So, she thought, not only a farm house, but an old farm house.

"Where do you want her?" the man on her left asked into what she only knew as the void, so far.

"Take her to the cellar. I've got things set up down there." a familiar voice chuckled and growled. How did she know the voice? Was he a patient? She couldn't think of anyone she'd treated that would want her abducted and brutalized.

"You got it, E." Ugh, for some reason it bothered her when guys referred to each other by their first initials. Girls, no big deal. But bros…there was something so thoroughly douchey and…familiar about it all…

"Hold on." the man called "E" said, and she heard footfalls approaching her. As he got closer, she smelled…patchouli and incense…and the sea…and it brought back a rush of pain from past trauma followed by literal pain from his punch to her gut. She hadn't been expecting it. Obviously. The wind had been taken out of her. Literally and figuratively. She did know this man…all too well.

"We've got some catching up to do, sweetheart." the pet name dripped like venomous honey from the tongue of the snake before her.

"Elliot." it wasn't a question. She coughed the name out like a pill that had gone down sideways.

Her escorts continued their transportation of her prone body to its destination…she didn't want to think FINAL destination, but the more she learned about her situation, the more she worried that she wouldn't make it out alive.

They had to get creative in carrying her down the narrow staircase to the cellar. They argued for a moment about who would take the top half and who would go backwards.

"How about the one who takes my top half goes forward and the bottom half goes backward?" These idiots. Where did Elliott find clowns like this who needed to be told by their prisoner the best way to sort out their domestic dispute.

She thought she felt them shrug, and silently take her advice as she felt herself being lowered down the stairs, feet first, panic threatening to overtake her restrained limbs.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they stood her up to remove her shroud, and cut the zip ties from around her ankles and wrists. She then noticed a small cell that reminded her of the ones in the sheriff's offices in some westerns she'd seen. She started to freak out, anticipating her future in that horrid place.

"Guys, please. No. Please don't do this. I don't know what Elliott's told you about me, but I'm a good person. I don't deserve this. I have a job and friends and a family who will worry sick about me. I am begging you to let me go. Please!"

"You're wasting your breath, lady." one of the men said, gruffly.

"PLEASE!" she appealed, desperate to get through. "Don't you guys have wives or girlfriends? Mothers, sisters, aunts, or female cousins? What if a woman you cared about was in this situ---" and before she could finish the question, one of the men punched her for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. She fell to her knees, vomiting. And the world went black again.

~~~~~~~

There were no windows. There was no clock. There was just a small twin mattress in one corner of the cell, and a bedside commode in the other. As accommodations went, it was hardly a Hilton, but it could have been worse. It was all lit by a 60-watt bulb in one of those hanging fixtures her dad had always called a trouble light situated on a hook on the side of one of the exposed joists outside the cell. He'd had a similar one for the longest time. He and mom will be worried sick before long, if they aren't already, she thought. The light was aptly named for these circumstances she was in. Trouble. A heap of it. And no idea of how to get out of it.

And honestly, no idea why Elliott would want her here. How he could do such a monstrous thing as having her kidnapped. How he came to live in this place when he never worked a day in his life. She was so confused. She hoped at the very least, he'd give her answers before he murdered her, if that was his plan.

She had woken up on her side, almost her stomach, with her right cheek on the scratchy surface of the bare mattress. Whoever put her to bed had been wise to position her like this given the likelihood that she might puke again. She noticed a small bucket, presumably for that purpose, next to the mattress. There was a caseless pillow next to her head, but she hadn't found that comfort during her nap of…she couldn't tell how long. Not that it mattered. The more she slept, the less time she'd have to process this horror movie she was currently living out.

She heard the door open at the top of the stairs and Elliott shout at one of his flunkies, "What do you MEAN you didn't get her phone?" a pause while indistinct words came from said flunky across the room, or maybe the house. "Well, find it. Tear that piece of shit Explorer apart if you have to. I want that phone." She took exception to her sweet little Norah getting called a piece of shit. That was her Millennium Falcon. And yes, she'd gotten flack for naming her Norah the Explorer, but she didn't care.

Elliott stomped down the stairs, grinning the most infuriatingly happy grin she'd ever seen on him. She wanted to maul him. To tear those stupid eyes out of their sockets with her own fingernails. But she controlled her anger and resisted even acknowledging his greeting of "Hey, sweetheart."

She ignored him.

"It's good to see you."

Silence.

"I missed you."

She stared right through him.

"I heard you and that meat head soldier broke up."

She scowled at him.

"There she is. There's my girl."

"I'm not your girl, Elliott, and I haven't been in years. Why am I here?" She broke. She couldn't take it.

"We'll get to that why soon enough. First, let's talk about why you and Cap'n Crunch are no longer breakfasting together? Soggy cereal? Limp toast? Was he letting you leave the table unsatisfied?"

"As if you ever satisfied me when we were together." She spat back, calling Elliott out on his notorious selfishness in all aspects of life and relationships.

"I've changed."

"Bullshit." she rolled her eyes.

"It's true!" he insisted. "I can give you references."

"I honestly don't give a shit. We're not together. Sy and I are. Happily. And you better let me go soon. He was expecting me at his place after work. He's probably out looking for me right now." she lied. It was worth a shot.

"Now it's my turn to call bullshit, because I know that isn't true." He looked at her with that patronizing stare he had.

"You don't know shit, Elliott."

"I know that your boy took off over a week ago for Virginia and hasn't come back, at least not the way he left. I believe he's supposed to be gone at least a few weeks. Maybe a couple of months. He wasn't sure at last report."

She was literally willing him to burst into flames before her. Her gaze revealed her hand.

"Told ya. You think you're the only one with connections at the fort? I've got me a sweet little sergeant who works in ATC over there. She can out-squat anyone else on base…and let me tell you, it shows." he lifted his eyebrow, lasciviously.

"You disgust me."

"Why? You never seemed to mind my…sexy imagination." he winked at her.

"No, I'm happy that you're getting it good on the regular from an ass that won't quit. But come on. You clearly only got with this girl because you thought it would give you the upper hand against me."

"Well, that's very self-absorbed thinking."

"Really, Elliott? Do you see where we are right now?" they looked around at the dank cellar and he shrugged, unable to deny or rebut. "And this woman. Does she know about this little scheme?"

He gave her one of his more evil grins. "Who do you think kicked you in the tit?" Okay…she was new levels of pissed off now.

"Why…the actual FUCK am I here, Elliott!?"

"Well, Shane, you embarrassed me with that little stunt at the bar a few weeks ago. You thought you were hot shit, parading your sasquatch of a boyfriend around in front of me, in my town, humiliating me as all of my friends watched. And then that dickhead sucker punched me in the parking lot. I shoulda pressed charges. But him being a veteran, I knew how that woulda gone in this town. I didn't have a snowball's chance. So I waited. And I planned. And I was patient. And I watched for my moment. And it finally came. I've been watching you leave work every night for the past week, and you're always with someone, or headed somewhere else, or going straight home. Last night…last night I knew was the night when you didn't leave until after 7. You were the last one out, and I knew that it had to be then. The plan, not that you need to know, is to plaster your social media with humiliating photos, piss off everyone that you love, including your precious Sy, and alienate everyone you've ever cared about until you're miserable and alone."

Shane was crying now. She thought she might be sick again. She reached for the bucket. The delusion of this man thinking that anyone in that bar besides maybe the ones that were there with him that night gave a shit about him. Thinking that the town was his. He was a nobody there. He hadn't grown up there, he didn't work there, he didn't participate in community events. He was kidding himself if he thought anyone cared enough about him that he should feel shame over her relationship with Sy, especially five years after their relationship with each other had ended.

"How's that for a 'why,' sweetheart?" he boasted.

"It's making my ask myself a lot of questions. Like why I ever agreed to go out with you all those years ago. Why I didn't see the signs that you were a psychopath sooner. And why I put up with your terrorism for so long thinking you'd ever really change. I can't believe I ever slept with you, you absolute barbarian." and she heaved into the bucket, non-productively. She hadn't eaten since lunch, and that had to be well over twelve hours ago.

"Well, ya did. And ya can't change the past. But I'm about to take your future into my hands. As soon as we find your phone, we're gonna have us a ball, little girl."

"You honestly think I'll cooperate with any of that?"

"You won't have a choice." he held up a little glass vial. "Morphine. A tiny dose of this stuff, and you'll do anything I tell ya."

"Please. Just let me go now, and I won't press charges. I won't go to the cops, at all. I'll call in to work with a headache, or something and you can live your life with Sergeant Squats and we can leave each other alone."

"A good offer, but I need to get something out of this. I need my pride back."

"And you're gonna get that by dragging me through the mud online from my own Facebook account? Is that really the way you wanna do this? When you could just show me what a great life you've built for yourself. This is a great place here, it seems, I mean, I only smelled it, and felt how big it was while I was getting dragged around the place. But, Elliott, if you had just told me about all this, I would have been happy for you!"

"This place is Sasha's."

"Oh." she grasped for something, anything to make him see how insane he was being without saying the words. "Well, I'd still have been happy for you finding an established woman with a great job. Why couldn't you have just written me a letter telling me that? An email! Something."

"This is how it's getting done, Shane. Because this is the only way that truly ruins your life in the process. Because at the end of all of this, the backlash is going to be too much for you, and you're not going to be able to handle this life anymore…"

"No. Elliott, no."

"Yes. You're gonna take one last hit of the morphine and drive that shitty Ford right into the lake."

"You used to care about art. About beauty. You used to be sensitive. You used to have a soul. What happened, Elliott? What happened to your humanity?" Shane asked, crying, in mourning for the man he used to be. The one that she used to care for.

"I fell in love. And she broke my heart. And nothing has been the same."

"Elliott, I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, fuck, not you, don't be stupid. No, Kara. I met her right after you kicked me out, and SHE broke my heart." he turned and started up the stairs, pausing to look over his shoulder and say, "I'll be back when I have your phone. And I'll bring friends." before he ascended, shutting the door firmly behind him.

She had never been so relieved to NOT have her phone in her life. Hopefully, her coworkers had it safe and sound, and locked up at work.

Up Next: Chapter 15-Recon

#netflix sand castle #Sand Castle #captain syverson #Captain Syverson x OFC #captain syverson fanfic #sigh for sy #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc #this is either a bit angsty or it will give you angst it is hard to say

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that-sarcastic-slytherin · 4 years

Text

Help Me Forget

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Tony Stark

- - -

The streets were busy and lively as you pushed your way through, desperate to fight the crowds and return to the safety of your home.

It had been a relatively normal day, a good day, up until you had stumbled across one little happening.

Up until you had seen them.

As you walked briskly on the darkened pavement, you tried frantically to rid your mind of the troubling thought, but no matter how hard you tried, the images kept flooding right back.

Your eyes filled with tears as you recalled the unfortunate incident.

You had gone out on a food run for the group, it was a usual occurrence and it just so happened to be your turn. You had turned up at the restaurant to pick up your order, when you saw something that made you freeze in your tracks.

Sitting on a table not too far away, was Steve. Much to your shock, he was not alone. He was sitting across from a unfamiliar woman, looking very cosy. Too cosy.

When you had first seen him, you thought you had imagined it. Perhaps, you had mistook a stranger for the Captain. No. You soon realised that you had seen right.

The sight had shocked you so much, that you turned around and speedily left the restaurant. The food long forgotten.

Returning back to the present moment, as you made your way back home, you had more time to process what had happened, but it only made it worse.

You and Steve had a history, to say the least. You had joined the Avengers not long before the attack on Ultron. The former solider was kind and gentle to you, two things that you had never been very familiar with, given your harsh background. You had found comfort in his warm personality, and you soon became good friends. Shortly after, friendship had blossomed into something more, and the two of you were known around the tower, as the 'power couple,' of the group. You were inseparable, and highly protective of each other. You were in love. Plain and simple.

However, your loving relationship came crashing down when you had got badly injured in an assignment. It was risky to begin with, but Fury had needed all of the team. You had been fighting off a gang of radical soldiers with Natasha, when the Hulk had a huge break out, he had lost control and the team needed Natasha to get to him, quick. Subsequently, Steve made the call for Natasha to go to Banner and go through their lullaby.

What he didn't know, was that you were left alone with a very large group of bloodthirsty lunatics.

You had given the best you could, but there had been too many for you to fight off. By the time Natasha had warned Steve that you were on your own, it was too late.

Steve and Tony arrived to see you on the floor, unconscious, with blood pouring out from gaping wounds. They had rushed you back to the jet and straight to the hospital at S.H.I.E.L.D., where you underwent intense treatment, but had also slipped into a coma.

For weeks Steve sat with you, begging you to wake up. The image of how he had found you haunted him deeply, he knew he would never be able to forget what he did. When you finally woke up, you didn't remember much about the attack, which turned out to be a blessing.

However, you also woke up to a very broken man.

Steve was left traumatised after the event. No matter how hard you or any other of the avengers tried, he could not and would not accept that he was not responsible to what had happened to you. He blamed himself entirely. He could not live with the fact that he had caused you any sort of pain of injury. He could not bear the guilt and shame.

As an unfortunate result, Steve had made the painful decision to distance himself from you. He had told you that he could not be with you anymore, that you deserved better than him, that you needed someone who could always protect you.

Needless to say, you had not taken it very well. At all. You thought he was being too hard on himself, to the point where it was ridiculous. He was being infuriatingly stubborn, and you told him as much, but he would not listen. He had made up his mind. He hated himself for putting you in danger, and it was too difficult for him to be around you, knowing that truth.

The two of you had been separated for a little over six months now. You thought that you had finally come to a place where you could deal with it better. It was hard and painful at times, but you had tried your best to come to a place of acceptance, knowing that he was not going to change his mind.

However, seeing him, the man that you had loved, the man who had detached himself from you, seeing him with another woman...and looking so-so happy...it killed you. It hurt you in ways that you didn’t expect. The pain that you felt in your heart, reminded you just how much you still loved him.

You were also angry. Very angry.

You couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to do that to you, to simply find someone else and move on...casting you aside.

As you marched back into the tower, you had one single bitter thought in mind; ‘if he can move on so quickly, then so can I!’

The elevator doors rolled back when you reached the main floor. You took a deep breath then strolled into the allotment, very much aware of the multiple pairs of eyes upon you.

“Hey, Y/N,” greeted Clint from his seat on the sofa, but you ignored him, causing him and Natasha to exchange a concerned glance.

Piertro, who was over by the bar, noticed your empty hands and frowned. “Where is the food?”

“Didn’t get it.” Was all you replied, as you continued to stalk through the floor, passing by all your perplexed friends.

Piertro pouted sadly. “Aw, but I’m hungry.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother. “You’re always hungry.”

“What? I have a really fast metabolism.”

Bruce couldn’t help but pipe up at the scientific inconsistency. “Actaully, that has nothing to do with how your appetite works...”

You left the room as if you had never even heard them, your mind bubbling with too many things.

Noticing the hard glare that you were wearing as you walked away, Clint asked the others, “what was that all about?”

You walked up the stairs to your own floor, but didn’t go into your room. No. Instead, you stopped right outside a black, shiny door, and quickly knocked on it. The door opened and Tony stared back at you in momentary confusion, before registering that it was you.

He quickly fixed a charming smirk onto his handsome face. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You didn’t reply but gazed at him with semi-guarded emotions. He saw the pain in your eyes that you were half-halfheartedly trying to hide, and immediately sobered.

“Whats wrong, Y/N?”

You shook your head, not being able to say anything aloud just yet. “Can I come in?” You asked.

Tony answered your question by moving back and gesturing for you to enter, his concern increasing. Wordlessly, you went in and sat down on the large bed, waiting as he joined you.

You just sat there for a few moments, gathering your thoughts. Tony waited patiently, knowing that something had definitely upset you.

Finally, you managed to summon the courage to speak the words out loud.

“I saw Steve...with another woman...”

Your words were left to hang in the air, as Tony tried to process what you said. He looked at you worriedly, but was sure that you had to be mistaken.

“Are you positive it was Cap?”

“Absolutely. I saw them together at the restaurant when I went to get the food.”

Tony couldn’t quite believe it. It didn’t sound like the Cap he knew. “Maybe it wasn’t what you thought, maybe they’re just friends. Or he could have saved her from a burning building, its Cap, that’s kind of his thing. He can’t resist being the hero.”

You didn't laugh at the jesting in his voice, instead you merely looked at him tiredly. "I know what I saw, Tony. Steve is never that comfortable with someone he's just met, not like he was with her. There was familiarity between them, and not just the friendly kind."

Tony was finding it hard to comprehend how Cap, Cap of all people, could be on a date with another girl. A girl that wasn't you...it didn't make sense, and yet, there was no mistaking the striking betrayal that lay in your pretty eyes.

He reached out and rested his arm across your shoulders, drawing you into his side in an attempt to offer you some kind of comfort. He didn't know what he could say to make you feel better, if there was anything at all. The break up had been pretty rough on you, and to learn that the man who caused it had now done this...it made Tony's jaw clench.

He would punch Cap in his shiny, patriotic face the next time he saw him.

You lay your head on Tony's chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, breathing in his pleasant aroma of aftershave and whisky. As you sat there together, with him gently rubbing your back, an idea formed in your bedraggled mind. An idea that may have seemed incredibly unwise, but one that brought you a twisted sensation of solace and satisfaction.

You lifted your head and angled it towards him, gazing at him with wide eyes. "Tony, if I ask you to do something for me, will you do it?"

He smiled softly. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

You bit your lip as you removed your hands from his waist and brought them up to his chest, clutching his shirt tightly.

“I need you."

Tony stared back at you in bewilderment, certain that he had misheard, because you couldn't possibly have said what he thought you had.

“Sorry, what?"

"I...need you," you repeated, judging his reaction carefully.

He was worried you had said that. Under normal circumstances, he would have been only to happy to oblige your request, however, these were not normal circumstances. You were in a highly emotional state and that changed everything.

“You’re clearly not thinking straight.”

“Maybe not,” you agreed. “But so what? I always think things through too much lately and I’m sick of it. Maybe, just one time, I want to do something not so right.

“I cant, Y/N. I can’t.”

Tony shot up from the bed and ran a hand through his hair, glancing at you with obvious temptation.

“Why not?” You countered, standing up too and going over to him. “Because Steve wouldn't like it? Well, he doesn’t seem to care how I feel right now, so why should I care about him? You saw me, Tony, I was a wreck after he ended things. I kept hoping that he would change his mind, but he never did! Now-now he goes off and finds someone else because it suddenly suits him! Without giving me a second thought!”

Anger, betrayal and anguish laced your voice heavily, making Tony’s wall break down one-by-one. He hated seeing you upset. He wanted to be there for you. You had always been there for him.

You sighed deeply, your eyes silently pleading with him as you wrapped your hand in his.

“Please, Tony. I need to forget. Help me forget.”

No more words were uttered.

Pushing away his final thoughts of conflict, Tony promptly captured your lips in his in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around you and backing you over to the bed.

As you lay down, he hovered over you, his eyes conveying the question he needed to be sure of. You nodded hastily in reply, giving him his answer, and he joined your lips again.

The rest of the night was spent in a whirlwind of emotions. Yielding to passions and succumbing to temptations that you knew deep down, you would come to regret. For that moment, you blocked out the rest of the world, as you focused on only you and him.

The following morning, you awoke early in Tony's embrace, and instantly felt irritation creep up at yourself for letting things go so far.

There was no taking it back now.

As quietly as you could, you detached yourself from his arms and left his room, clothed only in one of his AC/DC shirts.

Since it was so early, you assumed that no one else would be up yet, so you went down to the kitchen, intending to make yourself a cup of coffee.However, you stopped in your tracks when you saw that you weren't alone.

Wanda was sat at the breakfast bar...with Steve.

You went to turn around and leave before they saw you, but you found that it was too late, for Wanda called, "good morning, Y/N."

You sighed in frustration but turned back, plastering on a false smile. "Morning."

Upon hearing your name, Steve swivelled around on his stool to look at you, his heart clenching at the sight of you. He couldn't believe how you managed to be so beautiful all the time. It was still so painful for him to have to keep you at a distance, but he had to do it. He couldn't risk you getting hurt again. It was in your best interests.

“Y/N," he greeted with a small smile.

"Rogers."

Steve bit back a wince at your curtness. It felt so strange to hear you be so formal with him. He knew that something was amiss, you hadn't called him that since you first joined the team, and even then it hadn't lasted more than a couple of days.

Wanda handed you a mug of coffee but her eyes scanned your appearance curiously, until it clicked.

“Is that Tony's shirt?"

That made Steve draw his attention to it too, scrutinising it with narrowed eyes.

You glanced down at the oversized garment, hurrying for an explanation. "Yes, I borrowed it a while ago and forgot to give it back, I just threw something on to come and get a drink."

"That's one of Stark's favourite shirts," observed Steve with a deep frown. "It's strange that he doesn't mind you keeping it."

You took a sip of your coffee, trying to stop the panic from rising. "Well, he's a strange guy."

Wanda accepted that as a reasonable response and decide to change the subject, though Steve was still pondering it, he could always tell when you were lying.

"Steve was just telling me about this dinner he went to last night," explained Wanda, unaware that the topic was a sensitive one for you.

"Oh, was he?" You voiced, sarcasm lacing your tone as you sent a small glare his way.

Wanda took that as a prompt to carry on. "Yeah, he met this woman on this old war website, and found out that she was related to-"

"I'll take it from here," Steve interrupted, not knowing how you would react to the information. "I found out that she was a distant relative of Peggy. She wanted to meet me to see if I could tell her anything about her great-aunt, and I felt obliged to."

Your thoughts were screaming at you as you stared at him, not moving.

Steve mistook your silence for anger or hurt. Peggy was always a difficult subject to broach between the two of you. He had managed to move on from his first love by finding you, his true love, but you had always questioned whether he had completely let her go.

He stood up and walked towards you, his expression wary. "Y/N, I only went for the woman's sake. I didn't think it was right to leave her with unanswered questions, to leave her wondering. There wasn't anything more to it than that. I swear. My history with Peggy is just that. History.”

You didn't have time to reply or fully register what this new information meant, because Tony came strutting in, shirtless, and looking immensely pleased with himself.

“Morning, everyone." He went over to the counter and picked up the piece of toast that Wanda had made for herself, and took a bite out of it. He took notice of the soldier and tried to contain his anger at him for hurting you, so he settled for irritating him.

Tony threw you a wink as he walked back over to go to his room again. On the way out, he said cheekily, "thanks for last night, Y/N."

Your pulse quickened as you looked at the gaping Wanda in front of you, but you were more concerned by the look of utter pain and shock on Steve's face.

He swallowed thickly, his mind filling with every negative thought.

“You...and...Stark..."

He whispered, willing his voice not to crack. He could feel his heart breaking that very moment.

“I can't believe you would do that..."

Steve's eyes were full of pain, the same pain that you had felt the previous night. He knew he had to leave quickly, before his emotions overcame him.

He gave you one last, broken look, then stalked out of the kitchen, leaving you to watch after him helplessly.

You had messed up. You had messed up badly.

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