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#perfectus
raleighcarreras · 1 year
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perfectus
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Part 1: and I know I said go slow
Pairing: wanda maximoff x black!fem!reader
Rating: M (language)
Wrd Cnt: 1.5k+ maybe?
Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, angst, slow-ish burn, eventual smut
Part(s): 2,
Summary: You're determined to be in a committed relationship by Valentine's Day. So what if it's a capitalistic holiday that holds no real significance. In your 25 years of life, you've never had a Valentine and if you make it to 26 the same way, you might just jump out of a window. So, you and your best friend Wanda have 60 days to accomplish the impossible.
Little do you know, your Valentine has been right under your nose the entire time. And Wanda has a plan of her own. Sorta.
Notes: trying my little hand at a rom-com because I get to do whatever I want around here. here's the playlist for this fic. the title song is 365 by Katy Perry & Zedd. Translation done by Google translate of course.
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Falling deeper than before. Say that you are ready, lock it up in a heartbeat.
How early was too early for stores to start prepping the shelves for Valentine's day? Christmas was still a week away. Certainly, you would have thought that would be too early.
But the Walgreens closest to your and Wanda's apartment had other ideas. They were shoving the teddy bears with hearts sewn to their paws right next to the teddy bears with santa hats sewn to their heads.
Even worse? They blended together seamlessly because everything was red!
You had crossed your arms and pouted severely as you recounted the blasphemy you had encountered (while trying to retrieve your daily vitamins and a bag of baked cheetos) to your best friend, Wanda Maximoff.
"Are you even listening, Wands?!" You shrieked something serious.
Wanda only peaked one of her eyes opened, "Yeah."
You flopped onto the couch heavily. You threw your feet to one end and laid your head in her lap, "Then what did I say?"
"You said that it was stupid to put the V-day stuff out so early but you only feel that way because it reminds you of how lonely you are."
You stared up at her, "That isn't what I said in the slightest."
"No, but it's what you meant."
You scrunched your nose up in offense, "I don't like you."
Wanda smiled softly, "Liar."
"You smell like smoke."
Wanda laughed out loud at that. She gestured for you to get off her lap so she could extradite herself from the couch, "That's what happens when you're a volunteer firefighter. Sometimes, you encounter fires."
Wanda stretched dubiously, as if to empathize her point. Her wife-pleaser raised above her midriff. You made it a point not to look. You had always been envious(?) of her body in a wierd homoerotic way that you rather not explore.
"Did you save everyone?"
Wanda walked over to the kitchen, probably in search of a Nutri-Grain bar, as was her routine.
"No one to save. Some teen thought it would be funny to light a match next to a newspaper stand."
You stretched your neck over the edge of the couch to see her. She was upside down in your vision, but you would make do.
"My brave bestie."
Wanda mumbled something that you couldn't hear.
"What was that?"
"I said it wasn't really about being brave. I could have thrown a cup of water on it and it would have been fine."
"Well, I still think you're brave. Even though you didn't run into a burning building today, doesn't mean you haven't before. And you're doing it for free? You're a hero in my book."
Wanda's cheeks reddened, "Thanks."
You hummed, "Where's Kaiser?"
"Who? Oh! I locked him in your room."
You gave a scandalized gasp and jumped up. You ran to your room, opening the door to the saddest puppy you have ever seen in your life.
You picked up the german shepherd and husky mix, cuddling him into your chest. You walked back into the livingroom with a scowl.
Wanda huffed, "What? He screams for you when you leave and I was trying to take a nap before I go to the bar."
"Your mommy is so mean, isn't she, my little kaiser roll?" You're 76% sure he nodded at you in confirmation.
"I'm not his mommy. He hates me! Despite having saved him from a tree. He's a dog, why was he in a tree!?"
"He's adventurous and he can smell your fear." You thought back to the day Wanda seemed to reluctantly come back home with a random puppy, despite not having left with one.
She told you that she had to boost Natasha into the tree during one of their shifts and in the process Natasha had stepped on her face to retrieve him. No one else could take him home and they didn't want to drop him off at a shelter because he was clearly not that smart. Wanda drew the short fire hose.
"He's the size of my shoe, I'm not scared of him."
"You're still a bad mom. Say sorry to our son."
Wanda turned to you with an incredulous look that quickly turned exasperated when she saw you were serious, "I'm sorry, Kaiser."
Kaiser gave her a look that was clearly meant to be perceived as triumph over Wanda.
"He said apology accepted."
Kaiser barked.
"No he didn't."
You placed Kaiser down on the floor and watched as he curled into a ball at your feet.
"Anyway, back to the problem I brought up earlier. I refuse to be without a Valentine next year. Tony is inevitably going to rent out your bar for a stupid little love day party and if I don't have a date I think I might explode."
Wanda returned to the livingroom. Kaiser nipped at her ankle when she got decidedly too close to you.
"Who cares if you have a date or not? You normally don't."
Your groan forced you deeper into the couch, "Exactly! All of our friends probably think I'm a loser and unlovable. And...and fuck, I just don't want to spend another year alone."
Wanda's brows furrowed, "You're not alone. You have me. And I know for a fact that you're not a loser and extremely lovable."
You pressed the palms of your hands into your eyes, "You're supposed to say that. You're my best friend. If you didn't think that the bestie police would like arrest you or something."
"That's not a real thing."
"Sure it is. And so is me needing to be boo'd up in the next 60 days." You crossed your arms over your chest.
"I'm still not understanding the rush-"
"Wanda, when was the last time I brought someone home?"
Wanda wished she didn't have to think so hard, "Oh! Three nights ago!"
"That was Pietro. And I definitely didn't fuck him. One, because he's gay, and two, because we were in here the whole night and you were with us!"
"Yeah...okay, last week?"
"That was Natasha." You deadpanned.
"The week before that?"
You rolled your eyes so hard Wanda feared she have to catch them when they fell out and rolled to the ground.
"That broad was here for you!"
Wanda sunk into the couch cushions, "Damn. It has been awhile."
"See?!"
"But that doesn't mean you need to fall over yourself to find someone by Valentine's day. Besides, we always do Galentine's instead. What about that?"
"Technically, I need to find someone before then because I want to be in a committed relationship by V-day. We can still do Galentine's with Nat and Carol. It'll just have to be earlier in the day." You said easily. You didn't notice the miffed expression Wanda was giving you.
"How are you going to even do any of this?"
You smiled brightly, turning to face Wanda, "With your help, of course! And probably Nat, Tony, Carol, and Sam's too. You guys will find me suitable dates. And we'll go from there. I'll even reactivate my Tinder account."
Wanda's frown deepened even further, "But you hate Tinder."
"That's how you know I'm serious about this."
Wanda watched as you frantically typed away on your phone. Informing your friends of your plans and setting up multiple online dating profiles.
"There's no talking you out of this, is there?"
You only shook your head with an infuriating smile.
"Fine. I'll ask around I guess."
"Yay! Thank you, Wands!" You threw yourself into Wanda for a hug. Wrapping your arms around her neck as much as you could.
Wanda patted your back.
"Youre welcome, Detka. At least this way I know they won't be the losers you normally have an affinity for."
You pulled away, "I do not have an 'affinity for losers'."
Wanda raised an eyebrow, "Which one of your exes has not been a loser?"
"Carly!"
"We were 16 when you dated Carly. She was definitely a loser."
"Jackson?"
Wanda's eyes widened, "Jackson tried to cheat on you. With me!"
You shrugged, more than over that by now, "Yeah, but he was so hot. And his dic-"
"Okay. You win. Moving on."
Kaiser hopped up onto your lap.
"Your mommy is so easy, Kai."
Wanda just scowled.
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"And your dumbass agreed to that?"
Wanda huffed for the fourth time that evening.
This little coffee break with Natasha and Sam was not going well. She thought they'd be on her side when she explained the crazy episode you had the day before.
But instead, they were just staring at her like she had three heads. She wasn't the crazy one. You were!
"What do you mean? I had no choice. She volunteered me!"
Sam blinked. Once. Twice, "Did it not occur to you to just say 'No'?"
"Of course it did. But I couldn't!"
It was Natasha's turn to blink blankly, "And why not?"
"B-Because!"
Natasha and Sam shared a glance.
Natasha shook her head in astonishment, "Oh my God."
"What?" Wanda asked softly, thinking something was wrong.
"oH. My. GOd." Sam, for his part, looked just as confused as Wanda.
"What, Natasha?!"
"YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH Y/N!" Natasha exclaimed with a half shriek half laugh thing that caused her to choke. Sam patted her softly on the back while looking at Wanda in shock.
"Заткнись на хрен." Wanda said through gritted teeth, looking around the fire department's lounge like you would pop out from behind a light fixture at any second.
Sam pouted, "Hey, no Russian. Bucky still won't teach me anything. Not even the cuss words."
"She told me to 'shut the fuck up'. Which obviously means I'm right, Sammy boy."
Sam turned to Wanda, "Then why did you agree to this!?"
Wanda blew out a latte scented breath. The cat was out of the bag and there was no getting it back in. So, she might as well have leaned into it.
"Because she asked." Wanda shrugged.
"You simp. I'm so ashamed of you right now." Sam said with a shake of his head.
Wanda rolled her eyes, "When was the last time you said 'No' to Steve?"
"This isn't about me, Wanda."
"Anyway, so you're actually going to let her go on dates and potentially find a life partner even though you like her?" Natasha asked with a concerned grimace.
"Yes. As long as she's happy. If she liked me back she wouldn't always put me in second place."
Natasha shook her head, "That's not fair! You're always in second place because she doesn't even know you're in the damn race."
"And you're not going to tell her, are you?" Sam said with a soft, sad smile.
"No. I'm going to help her get ready for her dates with a big smile on my face. And if she finds the love her life. I'll be happy for her."
"Wanda?"
"Yes?"
"You looked like you were going to burst into sobs while saying that."
Wanda scratched at the side of her head, "Yeah. I'm-uh-still working on that."
Sam was silent for a moment, "Can we make a deal?"
"Depends?"
"If she still hasn't found a Valentine by February 13th, you ask her. And not in a 'besties gal pals BF4EVA' way. In a 'if you took off literally any peice of clothing even a sock I would have to change my pants' way."
Wanda dismissed her blush with a breathy chuckle, "Deal. But we all have to take this assignment seriously. I'm a last resort. No setting her up with losers."
Natasha and Sam both looked reluctant to shake hands on those terms, but they did anyway.
"Deal."
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minnesotamedic186 · 1 year
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HI SO RANDOM!! I saw you wanted to bring augie up for the au :3 I would love to hear your take if that’s okay with ya! /pos
BOY HOWDY-!
So as my good friend @monsterbride99 has mentioned some time ago, the Darkmess would pretty much crank all of Augie's negative emotions(anxiety, depression and anger) into high gear, whipping up a storm even worse than the one the Darkmess Tentacle conjured up
I always saw Perfectus(Augie's brother) maybe coming in to interfere(btw if you want a link to this, 60 page google doc me and Bride are doing about Augie and all these other Rabbid Gods, I can totally hook you up-) and at least helping the heroes with getting rid of all the Darkmess(It'd be like a "destroy Darkmess something" stage with Perfectus and Augie fighting in the background)
And once that's over(and because I wanna believe Perfectus isn't as bad as some people think) Perfectus hugs his brother, releasing him of Cursa's control, and we actually get two gods in on the resistance ^v^
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I actually like to think Augie and Perfectus had something of a good relationship, Perfectus being the one person in the family supporting Augie
Interesting idea. Maybe he was the one protecting him and that in turn caused both guilt and resentment from Augie? Or heck, maybe his parents ignored Perfectus because being empathetic is just a quality of a good hero, it's just a reflex. "Aw, sticking up for your brother again. Such a good son of ours..." "...but you know he'll never deserve it."
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randomrabbidramblings · 3 months
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The drinking contest from @bramble-scramble's An Appeal to the Heavens because the idea of Phantom vs Augie is very amusing in any way, lol.
Added Perfectus to cheer his bro up even if he didn't last very long. Phantom, behave! Poor Augie's going to need more than a coffee to get rid of the hangover.
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hxsy8egjbwc9ng · 1 year
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diejager · 3 months
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hello!!!!! how would the monster group handle a mountain lion hybrid, like, they’re notoriously difficult to handle and are known to lash out, so they were just kinda thrown to Price to handle
Lesson Cw: hybrid, fighting, scruffing, tell me if I missed any.
They were at an impasse, unable to find you when you didn’t want to be found, stalking the halls in complete silence and scaring people and hissing at people who got to close to you —even them at some point. You were a brat, a proper brat that eventually got to Price as you did with the others. He approached Alejandro and Horangi about your standoffish behaviour: protective, self-isolating and aggressive, but he was assured that it was normal, yours were only worsened by monster and hybrid treatments, the horrible and ignorant ways they treated you that made your instincts lash out.
Fortunately, Price learned that you could be taught to accept them, to be indoctrinated into their pack without rejecting your instincts. He had both felines drag you to the sparring ring after everyone left, hearing you hiss and lash out in pure anxiety and stress until they wrangled you into the ring and surrounded you, walking around you like two cats ready to pounce on their prey. Price had spoken to them to know if this kind of harsh lesson would work, it did on Horangi, made him open up after a rough fight and loosen up after a while. That was all he needed to hear to hold a session with you (he spoke to the others before, wanting to hear their opinions before he moved on with the plan).
”Don’t hold back,” Alejandro smiled, spotted fur growing on his forearms and tail swaying behind him.
“Or what?” You hissed, glaring at the men moving around your prone figure and fists clenched to your side.
“Or I eat you, kitty,” Horangi grinned, a goading gleam in his bright, amber eyes, his scars stretching to widen his smirk and teeth growing to seem more menacing.
Price watched you wait it out, letting your instincts drive you forward when Horangi lashed out first, jumping at you while Alejandro circled both of you, quietly huffing and rumbling when you pushed Horangi back. You fought with vigour and anger, snapping your teeth at the Haetae’s nose and claw swiping at him when you manage to struggle out of his tackle. Horangi and Alejandro switched places on occasion, to keep you from getting used to one person and to tire you out, to wear down your pent up anger and anxiety. 
It went on for almost an hour until Horangi had you pinned to the ground, straddling your hips with his thick thighs and gripping your nape, scruffing you into submission and calmness. You were all panting, breathing loudly and shoulders heaving, foreheads dripping sweat and hearts throbbing in your ears, a loud pulse beating a mile per second. You hissed and cussed, always the fiery spirit you were with them without holding back, gentle and caring when healing, but dangerous and bloodthirsty when cornered. When Alejandro nodded at Price, letting him know that it was safe for him to move in, he strode across the room, swinging his legs over the cables and kneeling beside you three.
“Are you ready to listen, Hunter?” He growled, tone low and deep with power, smoke curling on the corners of his lips like a burning fire, the warm, kindling flames of a cigar that smelled earthy and strong. It stung your nose as it did the others, but in the gentlest way possible. 
“Yes, sir,” you grumbled, blinking tiredly at him, shoulders slumped downward, head lowered and eyes cast down, “ ‘m tired.”
“Good, let’s get you cleaned and rested, yeah? We’ll continue this tomorrow.”
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part III
Spoilers for MW3 ahead.
1 2 3 4 5
Short chapter to keep the writing inspiration going, next one will be longer.<3
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''Si?'' You ask softly as you see the brooding figure on the doorframe. He's standing so still you would think it's a cardboard cutout, though the way his chest moves up and down gives him away. He doesn't say anything, simply walks up to you slowly, footsteps oddly quiet for someone his size.
You do nothing but sit up in bed slowly, looking at the familiar figure crouch down next to your bed, the black balaclava still on. You barely manage to see his eyes before he looks down, though you can recognize that haunted look in his eyes easily.
''What happened?'' You ask softly, hand on the back of his masked head as he rests his head on your lap. You see him take a few deep breaths, trying to hold himself together.
''Johnny's gone.'' Is all he can manage to say, voice raspy and weak. You've seen Simon lose comrades throughout the years, but Soap was a brother to him. He was the closest thing to Tommy he ever had, and losing a brother again felt like having his heart ripped out a second time. You hold him closer, hands applying light pressure on his back and he gets the message, climbing in bed with you. It's dark— you can't even see anything other than his outline, but you can feel him.
''I'm sorry, Simon.'' He stays quiet, simply allowing you to hold him close, his masked face seeking shelter on your warm chest, your hand running up and down his back while you console him. He removes his mask, knowing he never has to cover up around you, the feeling of the warm skin of your chest on his face slowly grounding him. You rock him gently, planting a soft kiss on his short hair,
''I'm here.'' He nods weakly, arms wrapping around your waist as he holds you as close to him as possible, fitting so perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. Despite the heartbreak from when he left, your pride is put aside to care for him, holding him in the same motherly way you held your baby when she was born.
''I'm sorry.'' He doesn't have to specify; you know what he's talking about.
''It's okay.'' You both know it's far from okay, but you push it to the back of your mind, for now.
''She awake?'' You shake your head, mumbling a small ''mm-mm'' in reply. He nods, arms wrapping tighter around you. The last thing he wanted was to wake up his little girl, always making sure he was being quiet as Ghost, despite being Simon as soon as he stepped into your house.
After years of knowing Simon— yes, Simon Riley, before he became Ghost, you know better than to ask what happened or press for details. You were there when he lost his family, watching him become Ghost, and you supported him along the way. This isn't any different. The night is spent with both of you holding each other, limbs intertwined. You don't even notice when you start drifting off, head slowly leaning back to the side and eyes growing heavier, though you don't fight it, the mass on top of you heavy and warm enough to feel like a second blanket.
''Hey, big guy.'' You greet tiredly, fingers running through his short blond hair as he looks up at you. The whites of his eyes are now red, veins painfully visible, and it's just a confirmation that he didn't sleep at all, simply focusing on watching you in your sleep and being too into his own head.
''Let me take care of you. I'll be here till you're right, Simon.''
[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]
taglist: @skulfan1 @survivalshxt @ghostslittlegf @yaebaal @thecubanator2 @juliediets @shescabob @kenz-ee @lothiriel9 @dragonstoneshortcake @lunamoonbby @alfie2401 @perfectus-in-morte @mxtokko
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aphroditelovesu · 11 months
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Beloved (Y/N),
It's been a long time since we've seen each other in person and I'm sorry about that. Hogwarts has kept me very busy, magic is a lot of fun but it can also be tricky and the most painful part is our distance. I believe all is going well in London, isn't? Your parents are good? Are you good?
I miss you so much that I cannot express it in words, it hurts me so much every time I think about you and I'm always thinking about you. Tell me, my love, what can I do to ease this pain? The pain that settles in my heart every time we are far apart.
I cannot wait to finish my studies at Hogwarts to be back in your warm and welcoming arms, I cannot wait for us to get married. Make you my spouse. Now that would be a dream come true, waking up every day by your side would be more than magical. It would be perfectus.
I hope this letter brings you some comfort, as writing it has certainly brought me peace and comfort. It's not the same as holding you, but it's enough while we're away. Don't worry, it's not a magical letter, or is it? Haha, you'll have to find out.
Be patient, my love, because I promise that very soon we will be together again.
Forever yours,
Sirius Black.
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panikea · 8 months
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Kiedy ostatnio z kimś rozmawiałeś? Nie przez MSG na Fejsie. Nie, przez telefon też się nie liczy. Nie służbowo. Pamiętasz „Autobiografię” Perfectu? Taki zespół seniorów, co to ludzie przychodzą na koncerty niby żeby posłuchać, a w rzeczywistości obserwują, który z członków wykituje na scenie. Perfect śpiewał: Alpagi łyk. I dyskusje po świt.  Taką rozmowę mam na myśli. Chodzi mi o taką rozmowę gdzie gadasz, a tu nagle pojawia się świt. Chodzi mi o taką rozmowę, gdzie jesteś ciekaw tej drugiej osoby.  Chodzi mi o rozmowę, gdzie nie boisz się pokazać swoich poglądów. Gdzie nie boisz się odsłonić.  Chodzi mi o taką rozmową z przyjaciółką, gdzie jest pierwszy ciepły wieczór tego roku, zaczynacie od męża, który dostał wolne na jazdę czołgiem, leci wino, a wy zaczynacie od paznokci, przez facetów, kreację, do problemów dziadków w czasie II wojny światowej.  A na koniec jest trzecia rano i okazuje się, że zeszły cztery wina. Chodzi mi o taką rozmowę z facetem albo z kobietą, gdzie nie mówisz “Pracuję tu i tu, za pięć lat widzę się tu i tu, lubię makaron i buraki.” Gdzie mówisz za czym tęsknisz. Czego się boisz. Jakie masz plany. I nie boisz się, że ktoś cię wyśmieje.  Chodzi mi o taką rozmowę, która coś nowego wnosi do życia. Dawno, prawda? Mamy smartfony, komputery, okulary łączące się z internetem, samochody, połączone z siecią 24/7, a jednak rozmawiamy coraz mniej. Mamy wygodne mieszkania, pełne lodówki, Netfliksa z serialami, Spotify z muzyką a jesteśmy mniej szczęśliwi niż wtedy kiedy będąc młodym siedzieliśmy przy ognisku z browarem i gadaliśmy, żrąc tanią kiełbasę i pieczone ziemniaki. Wszyscy słuchali się wzajemnie. Teraz nikt nikogo nie słucha, każdy chce się wypowiadać. Kiedyś można było kogoś przekonać dobrą argumentacją. Teraz nawet jak ktoś rozmawia, to nie po to, aby kogokolwiek przekonać. Bo obie strony z góry uważają, że ta druga osoba jest głupia, a skoro jest głupia to wiadomo, że nie ma racji.  - Piotr C. pokolenieikea.com
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heathenarmyimagines · 11 months
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Title: The One He Chose
Pairing: Ivar x Reader
Summary: After all this time has Ivar finally caught his wife's trail?
Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Anyone working under the delusion that Ivar would accept the fact that his wife had escaped him eventually learned that would not be the case.
His men had stopped their violent search of Kattegat, just as he had promised Bjorn, but he was still searching for her.
Even as the months went on to become nearly a full year.
(Y/N) had been missing for ten months, one week and four days, Ivar was keeping count of his lonely nights. Despite how the people talked he had not let Freydis warm his bed in his wife’s absence.
Instead he spent most of his days and nights in his war room, looking over all the maps of other cities and villages that Kattegat traded with the most. He was furious at the fact that there had been no news from any of his informants, and his relationship with his brothers did little to comfort him.
Bjorn was, as he expected, furious at his sending off warriors to such vital trading cities. He had shouted himself nearly blue when he’d arrived at Ivar’s estate; of course he let the King do his whining and even allowed him to smash his war table in his tantrum, because to him none of it mattered.
His ships had sailed, his warriors deployed and there was nothing to be done about it; not by Bjorn or even himself. Hvitserk, like he always had, chose to remain neutral in the argument. Ubbe was clearly on Bjorn’s side, but unlike Bjorn, Ubbe seemed to understand why he had acted so hastily even if he disapproved of the actions.
Currently Ubbe was the only one of his brothers who had friendly conversations with him, and Ivar would never be able to express how much he appreciated the company in these hard months.
‘Still no news?’ Ubbe asked as they both sat on the beach and watched a merchant ship approach.
‘Nearly a hundred spies and no good news.’ Ivar sighed.
‘No good news?’ the eldest questioned.
‘My spies reported at last that they had a difficult time keeping track of (Y/N) in my time away, she would leave town alone around midday…and would not return home until nearly sunset.’ Ivar confessed, laying back in the sand and covering his eyes.
Ubbe felt his heart begin to beat faster, but he was not sure how much information Ivar truly had on the subject they were discussing.
‘You think she had an affair?’
‘I do not know, that is what tortures me brother. Not knowing things has always angered me, and now it seems I know less than ever. I don’t know if she was unfaithful, I don’t know where she is; all I know is she isn’t here.’
Ubbe had such conflicting feelings battling in his chest as he watched a few easy to miss tears roll down his brother's face. He was relieved to not have been discovered as (Y/N)’s lover, but still he was upset to see his brother in pain and know he was at least partially responsible for it.
‘If you think she was unfaithful why continue the search? Let go of your devotions and remarry, you have no obligations to her.’
'Why would I ever think such a thing?' Ivar asked, his anger visibly raising.
‘I will not let go, Ubbe.’ Ivar said as he sat back up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.
‘Not of her, not my marriage and not my anger. I will find her and she will answer every question I have.’
‘But what if you don’t find her? So far it has been nearly a year and you have had no progression in your search. It pains me to see you destroying yourself and your reputation for one woman you can replace so easily.’
Ivar looked over at his brother incredulously.
‘She can’t be replaced, not by Freydis or any woman in this world. She feared me Ubbe, do you understand that? From the day we stepped into that insignificant Christian kingdom, she looked at an army and still she feared me the most out of them.’
‘Ivar, every woman you have spoken to fears you. It would be impossible to find a woman in Kattegat you did not terrify.’
‘I know that, but how many of them would be brave enough to marry someone as vicious as me? How many would make that sacrifice? She could have stayed quiet and let any of those women be dragged away, but she stepped forward. Those Christian men offered her up like a lamb for sacrifice and still she wanted them to live, and was even smart enough to know how to play my mind games.’ Ivar explained.
‘How could I replace a woman like that, a woman that brave, who fears a filthy cripple like me?’
Ubbe sighed and stood up, looking out at the sea and saw that the ship was nearly at the docks, but he decided he could offer his younger brother some advice.
‘You shouldn’t want her to fear you, Ivar. How can anyone love what they fear?’
Ivar looked taken aback, as if he’d never considered not terrifying his wife, but instead of responding he turned his focus over to the ship crew that was unloading the boat.
‘I don’t see how he thought he was secretive?’ one of the men said casually as he helped to dock the ship.
‘He’s young, he’s never smuggled a damn thing and it shows,’
Ivar’s ears perked up upon hearing this conversation and he quickly called the two merchants over; abandoning his own chat with Ubbe.
The two men looked over at the princes curiously; as they had not been aware of the chaotic search for the Christian nun that had occurred while they were at sea.
‘Prince Ivar, Prince Ubbe.’ one of them greeted and the other nodded in agreement.
‘I’m happy that the Gods brought you all back to us, I would like to treat your crew to a small feast on my estate in the next fortnight.’ Ivar said cheerily.
Ubbe quickly understood the game Ivar was playing and he decided he wanted no part in it at all.
He bid his brother a less than polite goodbye and left the two men to Ivar’s manipulation.
A feast for a simple unimportant ship crew was unheard of, especially a feast given by a prince. It would have been considered a great sign of disrespect to decline his hospitality.
The two men thanked Ivar for his unwarranted kindness and went to let the others know that they would all, along with their families, be expected at the youngest Prince’s estate.
Ivar watched the ship crew discuss their surprising treat and he pulled himself up onto his crutches and began to walk back to the markets.
As he limped along his way he subtly motioned for one of his spies, a thrall working outside of the butcher’s stand, to walk along side him.
Obediently the man followed the wordless order and matched Ivar’s pace.
‘Everyone under my purse is to watch the men on the merchant ship that just docked. Every man is to be followed for the next fortnight. I will expect daily reports if anyone fails to report even one hour of their actions I will have them hung.’ Ivar said strictly not looking at the man at all.
As he had wished, his warning went a long way in getting the results he wanted. He received reports in the crewmens’ every action, he’d even gotten reports describing their trips into the woods to relieve themselves.
Still no news of his wife or of what the two men suspected a crew mate of smuggling, but Ivar was sure that this was the right ship.
He had discovered the ship had sailed off the morning after (Y/N) had vanished.
Ivar tasked his thralls with preparing for the feast and he was impressed with how well they had performed.
By the night his feast was set to happen he had large tables sat outside under a cloudless starlit sky and there were heaps of fine dishes and mead as well as wine from England.
The crewmen were all in awe of the extravagant show of hospitality and everyone gave him their thanks in person.
Ivar mingled among them and was pleased that the news of his wife's disappearance had become common knowledge to all of the men.
‘May I speak with you Prince Ivar?’ one of the men asked as he approached the high table.
Ivar was quick to recognize the man as one of the men he’d spoken to on the beach.
‘Of course come with me.’
With a great amount of control Ivar calmly led the man into his home away from the festivities.
‘What would you like to discuss?’ the prince asked.
‘Forgive my intruding, but I have heard of your wife’s disappearance, and I- I think I have some information to give.’ I asked.
This was what Ivar had planned; to give the crew such a grand feast that at least one man would be grateful enough to betray one another.
‘Please, I would owe you an unimaginable debt if you could help me find my wife.’ Ivar said cunningly.
‘I can’t be sure if it was your wife, all I know is that Amund had someone in that crate. We more experienced in smuggling saw him speaking with it, sliding his rations into it even.’ the old man said.
‘A crate?’ Ivar asked.
‘Yes, big crate, it could easily fit one person, maybe even two.’
‘Two?’ Ivar said, feeling his grip on his crutch tighten in his anger.
She’d had an affair and ran off with some nobody; she’d decided weeks locked in a crate with another man was better than the rest of her life with him.
‘You said this man’s name was…?’ Ivar questioned, struggling to keep his anger hidden.
‘Amund, strong boy; he went ahead of the rest of us and the first thing off the boat was the crate.’
Ivar took in all this information, trying to piece together what all this implied and he determined he needed more to work with.
‘Tell me, what happened after the merchandise was unloaded. Did he hide the crate?’
‘No, the crate was in the assigned room when we all brought in the rest, still nailed shut too. The Earl granted us his hospitality to rest after our journey.’
Again Ivar was silent, trying very hard to picture in his mind what could have happened. If (Y/N) was in the crate and this Amund was the one responsible for getting her out why did he leave it sealed?
‘Big enough for two…’ he mused, thinking that if there was a man strong enough inside with her he could break out of the crate with her then she could have escaped with him.
‘Was this crate ever damaged, or moved?’ he asked the crewman.’
‘No, at least not to my knowledge, but the journey had been harder on my body than usual in my advanced age. When the Earl offered us rest I rested, but I did hear rumors.’ the man continued.
‘Rumors?’
‘The merchants spoke of one of our crewmen walking into the Great Hall carrying an unconscious woman. I never saw her, but she was the topic of much gossip while we restocked the ship.’
‘Did anyone on your ship see this woman, even a glimpse of her?’
‘I can not say with certainty, I can only say that Amund smuggled someone out of Kattegat.’
The anger for the old man’s lack of knowledge was red hot and only cooled by his relief of finally having a lead.
Thank you for telling what you could, please enjoy the feast with your family. It is a celebration in the honor of you and all traders like you, what would our world look like without brave men like you all.’ the prince complimented as he dismissed the man.
As soon as the man was out of earshot Freydis, silent as death, immerged from the shadows of the dim lit room.
‘Spread the word, I want this man, Amund identified, and followed. He shouldn’t be able to sneeze without me knowing when and where.’ Ivar ordered, his voice much harder than it had been mere seconds ago.
‘For how long?’
‘As long as it takes for him to let down his guard and let the information slip.’
While Ivar’s spies began to focus on Amund, all the way in Denmark, (Y/N) was adapted into her new life.
In the first week of her new life as a thrall she quickly realized two things.
The first was that the life of a nun and the life of a thrall was eerily similar in many regards. An older, more hardened and experienced woman would assign tasks to her and then would judge if the task was completed correctly and met her standards. If she did well she would be given another, often more challenging task, but if it did not meet Hilda’s standards there was punishment.
It was a rare occasion when (Y/N) was on the receiving end of Hilda’s wrath, which was why her punishments always seemed so harsh in comparison to the other girls.
The second thing was that, even despite the hatred the head thrall clearly had for her, she greatly preferred the life of a thrall over the life she had fled from.
Sure the shed the thralls all shared was cold and hardly much of a shelter at all but she slept fine knowing she wouldn’t wake up to Ivar’s rage.
And even better she found other Christians among the women she now shared status with.
It felt as if she had been welcomed into a new church, even if it had only been a small circle consisting of three women of various ages.
There was Kendra, the youngest being only around nineteen who had been captured and sold from York. Dawn was in her mid thirties and was a cook, she had never said where she was from originally, just that she had been only thirteen when she became the old cook’s apprentice. Finally there was Megan who was closer to (Y/N)’s age being twenty four, she was originally from Essex.
After two years of hiding her faith from her tyrannical husband, praying amongst others was euphoric. Holding hands in prayer was what she looked forward to most when she awoke at first light.
Every morning she would be awakened by Hilda whacking a wooden stick against the walls of the shed from outside before the doors of the shed were thrown open.
‘Get up! Work to be done!’ she boomed unnecessarily.
It was common knowledge that anyone still laying down by the time the doors opened would not only be promptly hit with the stick but they also would get no first meal.
The term meal was used loosely, it was only gr Rx bone broth and uncooked crops or, if they were so lucky, scraps from feasts.
Today’s meal was bone broth and carrots, after receiving her portion (Y/N) went to the corner with her small group and they shared a brief prayer over your meal before eating quickly.
‘What is your chore list today Kendra?’ she asked the youngest.
‘Caring for the Earl’s stock.’ was the answer she was given.
‘Be sure you give the chickens enough, the last few we’ve cooked were more feathers than meat.’ Dawn sighed.
‘I will be…preparing for a visitor.’ Megan said quietly, hardly touching her small meal.
At this all of them went silent.
Megan was often used as a cleaning girl around the great hall, but on the rare occasion that the Earl had important company she was a bed warmer.
It was a truly horrible fate for any woman but it seemed to be an especially cruel task for a Christian.
Every night before Hilda came in to order everyone to sleep they all joined hands in a silent prayer, but even still it was obvious Megan only prayed for God’s mercy and forgiveness.
(Y/N) reached out and took Megan’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
‘God knows your heart and he knows your mind and spirit. He knows what sins you choose to commit and he knows the sins done against you. He will always forgive your sins and in time he will punish those who have sinned you.’ she encouraged.
Megan held onto the hand that she had been offered. Of course all the women of this small congregation were close, but Megan had such a strong connection and admiration for (Y/N).
The lie that Amund had told the Earl was widely believed and widely discussed in the markets. Meaning it was well known that (Y/N) was a runaway bed warmer herself.
It was for this reason that Megan looked at (Y/N) such wonder and great respect. In her unknowing eyes (Y/N) had done the impossible; escaped a lifetime of being nothing but a common whore for Pagans.
‘Hurry up you dogs! There's work to be done and if even one task isn’t completed then no one eats tonight!’ Hilda’s voice boomed.
Realizing that she hadn’t been focusing on her already cooling broth (Y/N) quickly drank the remaining liquid in the wooden bowl and stuck her carrots into her skirts.
Hopefully she would get a moment to sneak away and eat them before nightfall, if not then she would give it away to a beggar.
They all arose and set out to their assigned work locations.
Hilda sent a glare of pure malice at (Y/N) as she passed her on the way out of the shed.
‘If I hear so much as a word against you from the healers I’ll have you flogged.’ the old haggish woman warned.
‘Yes Hilda.’ (Y/N) replied, the air of respect and responsibility in her tone before she went on.
She had been assigned as a healer’s apprentice due to her telling the Earl she had some experience in that field of work.
Her days were spent gathering herbs and roots, mixing and brewing, occasionally there will be a person who is injured or falls so ill they need physical care and when that happens she would be the one to give them care. She would clean them, try to close up or disinfect their wounds and feed them remedies.
Today when she entered the healer’s hut she was met with the now familiar scent of living rotting flesh.
‘Girl.’ the healer, an old ragged woman named Skadi, called to her from the table where she was laying out her supplies.
‘Who is it?’ the thrall asked as she approached.
‘One of the Earl’s blacksmiths; got his foolish self cut and didn’t think to clean the sore.’
‘Infection, can it be treated?’
‘No, but he’ll survive.’ Skadi said sadly as she placed her necessary materials on a tray.
There were ropes to tie off the blood flow and restrain him, a leather strap to keep the man from biting off or swallowing his tongue, and a red hot ax in order to both remove the limb and cauterize the wound.
You hated doing this but it was necessary, the hut stunk with infection but it didn’t smell of death quite yet.
The man was older, maybe forty but clearly he’d lived a hard life to reach that age. He was quiet but his chest was heaving as if he had been fighting for each breath. His eyes were screwed shut and his head was turned away from his rotting hand.
It truly was disgusting to see a hand that mangled. The wound was still open, but no longer bleeding leaving an open gash caked in blackened blood and crusted puss.
She went about tying him down, making sure to be extra precise when restraining the arm that would soon be handless.
This was how she spent her days, in the hut with the sick and injured. It was a far cry from her old life in Kattegat. She was no longer a prince’s wife that was tended to by a full staff of thralls. Now she was herself thrall and she was called upon to do hard, truly hard, work and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Leaving the hut for the day (Y/N) found herself exhausted but hopeful that the man would be ok once he was rested.
As she made her way back to the shed she chomped on the carrots she had stored away from breakfast, thankful to have them at least in case someone really didn’t finish their chores and no one was given dinner tonight.
It was as she finished her last carrot that something compelled her to look over at the beach as she neared the shed.
There was a ship, of course there was a ship at the beach; where else would a ship be if not at sea. That wasn’t what made her stop in her tracks, it was undoubtedly a Kattegat ship.
By no means was (Y/N) an expert on such things but after two years she could single out Floki’s handiwork from any other boat builder.
Those sails, the dragon figurehead…that was not a merchant ship.
With her heart racing she hurried into the shed and huddled into the corner where she slept, but she did not lay down.
She just sat with her hands fiddling with the threads of her skirts, as she thought back to the morning conversation she’d had.
A visitor, an important enough visitor to be offered a bed warmer.
How had she not thought to ask who this visitor was? She prayed with all her heart that it wasn’t Ivar, but there was no way to be sure.
No, Ivar couldn’t know which boat you snuck onto, even if he did he wouldn’t just devote himself to hunting you.
At least not personally.
Ivar was a prince of a wealthy kingdom, as well as a respected warlord in his own right. What man would dare to disobey him if he ordered them to find you.
Everything was hitting her all at once.
She would have to leave tonight…run until she made it to the next town.
With what? No food, supplies or weapons to protect yourself? This wasn’t like the cold journey to Floki’s that last night. This would be a three day trip by foot. Not to mention it was no longer winter. It was spring and roads would be busy and therefore dangerous. A woman in rags traveling alone was little more than an invitation for a rapist on his way.
It wasn’t ideal by any means but it was either risk the dangers of the road or stay and be turned over to Ivar by whatever man Ivar had sent after her.
‘(Y/N), you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ Kendra said as she sat beside her.
‘Not to be dramatic, but it feels as if I have.’
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raleighcarreras · 1 year
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perfectus
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Part 2: the city broke my heart
Pairing(s): wanda maximoff x black!fem!reader
Rating: M (language)
Wrd Cnt: 1k
Warning(s): none
Part(s): 1
Notes: The song is HAZE by 5SOS, someone asked to be tagged and I probably should have responded directly to them, but just letting you guys know, I don't do tag lists because I find them a bit clunky. Sorry about that!
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Got me feelin' alright when the feeling's all gone. Got me feelin' uptight every moment you're gone. Got a piece of your mind and I'm gonna hold on. It's a hell of a ride...lovin' you.
Wanda's eyes rolled at the sound of your phone dinging with another Tinder, Hinge, and/or, Bumble notification.
She of course agreed to help you out on this frivolous journey, but that didn't mean she had to pretend to enjoy every second of it.
Especially, when you guys were supposed to be having your once a week roomie time.
You had only made those profiles 2 hours beforehand and you already had like 40 matches on each app.
Wanda knew you were desirable, she had told you as much, but damn, there was not a doubt in her head that this wouldn't make your ego borderline unbearable.
With your head in her lap, Wanda could feel you staring up at her to see if she had noticed the dinging as well.
The two of you were supposed to be paying attention to the cheesy little Christmas movie Under The Christmas Tree that Wanda had found on Hulu.
Instead, you were watching each other.
"Wan-"
She paused the movie, "Check your phone."
You shrieked in happiness and scrambled for your phone that was seconds away from buzzing right off the table.
You sat up so the both of you had a good view of your phone screen.
"Loser."
"What!? You haven't even read his bio yet, Wanda."
Wanda shrugged, "I don't need to, I can see his face. And his face says 'Hello, I am a loser and my bio will only prove that fact'."
You grumbled something unintelligible. Peaking at his bio, did only enhance the fact that he was indeed a loser, but Wanda didn't need to know that.
You tried to reject his like as subtly as possible. But, Wanda, ever vigilant, snickered under her breath.
"Told you."
"Yeah, yeah. Okay, how about her? She's hot, and we have a lot in common."
Wanda eyed the profile with scrutiny, "Uh-Y/N?"
"Yeah?"
"She looks like me."
You frowned and eyed the various pictures of the woman, "...No, she doesn't."
"Yes she does. Wait a minute. That is me!" Wanda grabbed the phone from your hand with a horrified huff.
"I've never seen these pictures of you before." You said slightly concerned.
"That's because they're from when I still lived in Sokovia...PIETRO!"
You grabbed your phone from her when she went to pick her own up. Undoubtedly, about to make a very heated phone call to her twin brother.
You squinted at the pictures again, sneakily saving a couple, "You should dye your head red again."
Wanda seemed to barely hear you as she angrily waited for Pietro to answer the phone.
When he did, Wanda immediately started speaking in Sokovian. You could hear him howling with laughter through the receiver.
"Why are you catfishing people as me, you little shit?"
Pietro hummed, "I'm not catfishing people as you, I was catfishing Y/N as you. She is not random people, she is our Y/N. There's a difference."
Wanda rolled her eyes, you only shrugged with a smile, starting to see the humor in the situation as well.
"This isn't funny."
"It is sorta funny, Wands."
"No, it isn't."
Wanda could practically hear Pietro's smirk through the phone when he spoke, "Yes, it is, Wands.
"You two are insufferable."
"I wasn't going to start an entire relationship like on that show. Once we matched I was just going to say 'it is me your best friend Pietro and my sister lik-'" Wanda hung up the phone, her cheeks tinged pink.
"Ha. Such a jokester, that one..."
"He just likes the attention. You know that."
Wanda only nodded along absentmindedly.
You continued to scroll and swipe on your phone.
Eventually, you put the phone down and gestured for Wanda to unpause the movie.
"When's your next shift at the bar?" You asked suddenly.
Wanda smiled, "I own the place. I don't have shifts."
"Well, when are you going in?"
"Hmm, probably around 7 tomorrow night. Why do you ask?"
"No, reason. I was just wondering."
Wanda didn't believe you, but didn't say anything otherwise. If only because the movie was starting to get exceptionally corny and good.
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Wanda found out why you. asked her schedule at exactly 7 pm the next evening.
You walked in, taking your coveted spot at the bar counter. Though, you were dressed far less casually then you were when you normally came in.
"What are you doing here?" Wanda asked, sliding you your go to vodka cranberry as if it was second nature.
Then, a hand placed itself softly on your shoulder, "Are you Y/N?"
Why would you touch someone without being sure of who they were first? Wanda followed the offending appendage all the way up to its owner's smug face. She knew that stupid, dumb face anywhere.
"Maria Hill." Wanda muttered with as much disdain as she could muster under her breath.
You stood, with a friendly smile, "That's me. Nice to meet you, Maria."
Maria leaned in for a hug.
Wanda's eye twitched. Maria was going to be charged extra for all of your drinks now.
You expertly dodged it with a handshake instead.
Wanda smiled. Your drinks were free again like they always were.
Maria ordered then excused herself to the restroom breifly.
You and Wanda both turned to each other in unison.
"Why didn't you tell me you had a date here?"
You bit your lip. Wanda wanted that to stop immediately.
"Because I knew you would say 'No' and I need your help to gauge if she's normal or not. You said yourself I tend to pick losers."
Wanda very much regretted saying that.
"She's not normal. I hate her."
You frowned in palpable disappointment, "Why?"
Wanda didn't have a very good answer. Or at least not one that she was ready to give away yet. Part of the reason she disliked Maria was because the woman was sort of like her business rival of sorts.
Maria owned the flower shop across the street and because the both of their establishment's names started with the same letter it meant they often fought for space at the local flea market where Wanda gave away samples.
Maria always got the better, bigger space. And it was mostly because Wanda couldn't wake up earlier than 8am no matter how hard she tried. But that was beside the point.
The other part of the reason Wanda hated Maria was because Maria apparently liked you.
Wanda gaped a few more seconds before answering, "Because um she owns a flower shop and she didn't bring you any flowers."
"Oh." You said quietly. You had noticed that too, "But it's just drinks. Barely a first date or anything."
Wanda shook her head, "You deserve flowers no matter the occasion."
"Thank you, Wanda." You said softly. A slight heat to your cheeks, that wasn't really noticeable.
Maria sat back down next to you, "Sorry about that. I came straight from the shop and wanted to make sure there weren't any thorns hiding anywhere."
"I understand."
Wanda handed Maria her drink. The most expensive bottle of scotch Wanda owned. Not only did she wake up at ungodly hours of the morning, she was also...rich...or something. And she had a stupid face!
Wanda moved to the other side of the bar so she didn't have to deal with that. Checking occasionally to make sure you didn't need saving.
After what felt like hours, Maria finally vacated the premises and you stayed in your seat. Scrolling through your phone.
"How'd it go?"
You shrugged, "Alright, I guess. But I couldn't stop thinking about what you said."
Wanda grimaced, "I didn't mean to-"
"No, it's okay, you were right. She talked about herself the whole time. And she didn't get all the dirt from under he nails. She also said your scotch was bad."
Wanda gasped, "That bitch!"
You laughed loudly, "Yeah, safe to say I will not be seeing her again."
Wanda resisted the urge to celebrate.
"So, does that mean you're done with this whole scheme then?"
You looked and Wanda and laughed again, "After one bad date? Of course not. I've already got another one for tomorrow."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, see you here again tommorow, Hot Stuff."
Wanda could only stand there with her mouth agape.
She was starting to think that Natasha and Sam were right.
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captaincrungus · 7 months
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magus perfectus
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Basically it'd be where Augie's ability to control the weather and ocean through his singing(because Siren!Augie-) are actually recognized, while Perfectus tends to look towards simpler things in nature that mortals would usually do-
"Perfectus, Perfectus! Check this out!" Augie belts out a high note, and within seconds an entire grove is watered by a passing stormcloud and the flowers have entered a full bloom. "Isn't that cool Perfectus?" But Perfectus isn't listening. Instead, he's watching some Rabbids from afar as they put together a mystical device that can tell the time. A 'sundial,' he remembered them calling it. His parents might not think anything of it, but Perfectus has never been more proud in his life.
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Had an illumination. Perfectus radiates Himbo™ energy.
Having a single braincell runs in the family I suppose. Or his and Augie's parents only had two to give to their child, but they got surprise twins.
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diejager · 1 month
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if you’re still writing for the monster 141, what about a bay hybrid reader, who is just on the edges on going into hibernation because the base is in a colder area/remote snowy location
I’m gonna assume you mean bear?
Cw: bear hybrid!readr, hibernation, binge eating, hoarding, tell me if I missed any.
Winter was creeping closer and closer by each day, your instinctual need to sleep away the cold calling to you louder than the prior days. There was a bone-deep exhaustion that clung to you, the heaviness that cold weather brought to you was a constant and nagging feeling that urged you deeper in the nest you’d built yourself in your dark room. Your curtains drawn, lights often closed and locks installed, you’d spent the weeks preparing, hoarding soft pillows, thick blankets and clothes from people you were familiar with. 
They were surprised when you brought it up, blinking tiredly and occasionally yawning in the afternoon, stumbling between everyone’s rooms with a small plea on the tip of your tongue. You took whatever they were willing to give you: a blanket from Price and Rudolfo, a shirt from König and Gaz, a jacket from Ghost and Horangi, and a pillow from Soap and Alejandro. As long as it smelled like them, a lingering reminder that you weren’t alone in your humid room, their musk grounding and safety. You wouldn’t be alone.
Price had known you were - like most bears - prone to hibernation, taking between one to three month of your year sleeping away the cold, sinking into your mountain of fabric and sleeping off the coldest months. Your time depended on the year, the warmer it was, the less you slept, and the colder it was, the longer you slept. It might’ve been a bother in people’s eyes - humans - but it was instinctual, a primal part of your brain that still clung to your ancestors who strayed from the path of being normal bears. You couldn’t ignore the pull, the call to sleep, it wasn’t possible for a bear like you, and you were fortunate to have such accommodating teammates.
You grew hungrier, your stomach becoming an endless pit, an abyss that kept taking dish after dish, stocking up in fat and calories that you’d burn during your sleep, keeping you sustained and alive without having to wake up. You ate whatever you that was within your reach, the cold bread, the warm milk, the leftover of two days ago or Soap’s surprisingly good cooking, nothing was safe when you were a big and grumpy and hungry bear near hibernation. Ever supportive and helpful, Soap and Alejandro would jump in to cook for you, hooking Gaz and Rudolfo into being their sous-chef whenever they were free. It was the delicious scent of home cooked and warm meals that brought you to the kitchen, if it wasn’t a call for fixing up someone, it was the smell of good food. 
You were ravenous, gulping down the many, many plates the duo - occasionally quartet - placed on the table, their chests puffed up pridefully at your quick eating, you were practically breathing them in. Your constant eating helped you pack some weight, your skin stretched to accommodate your growing amount of fat that would ultimately burn over the months. And when the day came, you were low on energy, grumpy and easy to anger, your patience running paper thin, bidding your goodbyes and see you soon, wrapping your arms around them and teasing them about missing you during your lockdown. 
You’d sleep through the cold winter months and wake up to a warmer and busier time, to a welcoming and excited team that had spent the better half of winter waiting impatiently for the TF’s medic to wake up.
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cuchufletapl · 1 year
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There's. Something. About the fact that the Flamel Symbol in FMA was ascribed to the three human characters that willingly committed alchemy's greatest taboo and lost (a part of) their bodies as a result.
As I understand it (and I should do more research on it, so take this with a grain of salt), in real-life, historical alchemy, the Flamel Cross is pretty much analogous with the philosopher's stone. And because western alchemy wasn't just about the science but rather had a strong religious component to it, the philosopher's stone itself was never really about obtaining gold in the most literal sense (as a valuable metal for monetary reasons); it symbolises the achievement of spiritual and physical perfection. (And excuse me for being pedantic for a second, but I feel like it's relevant here to know the etymology: in Latin, perfectus -a -um means "finished", "complete".)
Edward, Izumi, and Alphonse aren't whole, they lost a part of themselves in trying to do something that was out of their reach (Al in particular is physically nothing), and yet from the very beginning of the story they're the closest to illumination, they met god (essentially) and knew the knowledge of the world.
I don't believe Arakawa ever told us when Izumi got her tattoo (the extra chapter about her past as an alchemy apprentice has her cleavage completely covered), but I would venture that she got it after her failed human transmutation. There is nothing in the manga to suggest that she did it earlier, at least. Meanwhile, Edward and Alphonse definitely started wearing it after they tried to resurrect their mother — or, more accurately, after they set out on their journey to restore what they lost.
We are never told the reason why they decided to take on Izumi's emblem, interestingly enough. We don't even see them make the decision, they just start wearing it from one page to the other. Chronologically, the first time that we see Ed wear his red coat is in chapter 23, when he travels to East City to take the State Alchemist exam. However, in the one panel where he has his back towards the reader, his arm is positioned in a way that hides the symbol. Al isn't present for the exam, and the next time that he appears, at the beginning of chapter 24, when they burn down their childhood home, we're not shown his left shoulder — only the right. Nevertheless, we could infer that he already had painted the Flamel on, like we can infer that Ed's coat had it as well, and infer we shall!
I read someone here point out how both Al and Ed carry things of the people they love with them, giving the Flamel as one example of it. (I'd quote them properly, I know I reblogged it at the time, but I can't find the post.) And while I'm sure that's part of the reason, an homage to their master, I can't help but think that it isn't a coincidence that Izumi's symbol specifically resonated with them.
Again, we're never told what the Flamel means within the universe of FMA, it's there but not mentioned, a subtle literary symbol — but given that Arakawa had other real-life alchemical symbols in the series mean the same thing that they meant historically... well. Ed and Al are alchemists, after all, so they would know that the Flamel Cross represents spiritual perfection.
I think that the Watsonian and Doylist explanation for the Flamel is the same here — Ed, Al, and Izumi chose in-universe to wear the Flamel for the same reason that Arakawa chose to identify them with that symbol.
I'm not entirely sure what I'm getting at here, to be honest. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. I don't quite have a conclusion to offer. This is why I don't usually do meta lol
But it just feels like it means something, to have these characters, who were overtaken by their grief and punished for their hubris by taking away their bodies, be identified with a symbol of completeness.
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