#shield hero short fic

[shieldherostuffs]

Otherworldly War

Inspired by the all the different Humans Are Space Orcs tags on here, which gave this idea.

This idea is taken from the thing with world jumping in Shield Hero, and I came up with the idea of many worlds somehow utilizing the Waves to World Jump via Magic, and take over or just eradicate many other worlds.

—————

Naofumi had been peacefully living his life with his parents and younger brother, running their shop in the Capital of their home kingdom. Naofumi would usually stay in the shop, making small trinkets and pieces of jewelry to sell as their own merchandise, while his brother would go out with their mom to try and get more experience in making deals with traveling merchants, and their dad would help customers and keep inventory in the shop.

However, that was all ruined one day, when the sky turned red, and toxic-green swirls appeared in the sky. Not only did monsters they've never seen before start appearing and causing chaos, but also what seemed to be an army led by a man with a purple cape, wielding a staff.

The Kingdom was too unprepared for the attack and too busy dealing with the monsters to properly fight back against the suddenly-appearing army. It only took hours for the Capital to fall, and that was with a few survivors who'd hidden themselves away.

Naofumi and his brother had been able to hide in the basement of their shop where they usually store their most valuable items, the latch-door hidden away by a heavy rug.

It was only hours later, when the sun had gone down, the chaos had stopped, and the cheers of victory from the opposing army had gone quiet.

Naofumi had left the basement first, holding the latch for his brother to get out before they snuck out to the front of the shop. Naofumi kept his brother behind him as they snuck through between the shelves, overturned tables, and broken merchandise of all kinds on the floor.

They had to take a few minutes to breath and not break down when they found their dad's corpse laying in front of the counter. Naofumi left his brother hiding behind the counter and snuck to the front of the shop, where the door let just a sliver of moonlight through, and the windows were broken. Naofumi moved up to look through the window, only to quickly duck down when he saw a group of the soldiers who'd come with the change in the sky hanging out outside the tavern on the other side of the street, among the blood and corpses (both human and not) dirtying the streets.

"Hey! Everyone, the messengers just got here! This whole world has gone down, and if there's anyone left alive, they're without hope! The four heroes have been killed, and every civilization has been scattered at the least!" A soldier shouted as he ran down to join the group.

Naofumi's breath hitched, he fought not to let out a sob, and he could faintly hear his little brother's breathing grow heavier from behind the counter. Naofumi took one last look at his dad's corpse, before quietly hurrying over to take his brother's hand and take him to the back of the shop. They hid among the storage shelves, clutching each other close as they trembled with emotion, fighting themselves not to cry out and sob and wail.

However, a little later, they'd hear the door being thrown open, and multiple sounds of steps coming into the store.

The two, despite their wishing and praying, end up found by the soldiers, and are taken back to where the main army have set up camp in the castle's courtyard.

Just as the two arrive, Naofumi's eyes are locked on the leader of the army, using his staff to execute the last few survivors of the capital that'd been found hiding. One of them, Naofumi recognizes as the nice middle-aged lady living by the river with her goats, selling the best and softest string, wool, and clothes, who would Naofumi help he sew and weave. As they make eye-contact, hers become lifeless, and her body falls to the ground.

Naofumi's brain is in overdrive, trying to protect him from the trauma of everything, and to protect his younger brothers, and keep them both alive.

Every face that he sees, mainly the leader of the army, is burned into Naofumi's brain, never to be forgotten.

Before anything else can happen, a golden light surrounds the whole army, and they cheer as they become but small pieces of light shooting towards the shrinking swirls in the sky. Naofumi watches as they all disappear and the sky returns to the normal night sky.

———

Something must've gone wrong.

Naofumi and his brother had been trying to escape their dying world by leaving through the swirls in the sky, the same way that army had. They'd clutched each other as it happened, but something had pulled him away from his brother, separating them.

Now, he was here, a shield stuck to his arm, surrounded by mages, standing with three other guys as confused as him, with a different weapon each, now demanding things from the mages.

Honestly, if it wasn't for the situation and lack of information, Naofumi would be looking for his brother right now.

A bit later, the four of them were led away by the mages, to meet the King of the Kingdom they'd been summoned to. As the doors opened, Naofumi walked in alongside the other four, keeping his eyes trained on the long rug under his feet.

As the other three stopped, so did Naofumi.

Then, the King spoke up,

And Naofumi recognized that voice.

When Naofumi raised his head, and turned his eyes to the man sitting on the throne before them, he recognized that face, even if it had aged many years.

———

It's been a while since everything went down, and yet the anger and lust for revenge Naofumi felt hadn't dwindled since he's seen that face again. He kept seeing faces from back then in almost every group of soldiers he comes across.

He wants revenge on those who decided his world had to be destroyed by the Waves of Calamity, and sped it up by killing so many of the innocent and weak. He and his brother had been of those, and had to live through the genocide of everyone they cared for, and more, being killed.

He felt with Raphtalia, and how she, too, had lost almost everyone to the Waves similarly, had then been separated from them, and was now fighting for the people half-responsible for it.

Naofunmi hadn't yet told her or Filo that he hates the King and army for more than just what had been done to him so soon after being summoned.

After getting back at the former first princess and former king only for what they did to him while in this world, Naofumi he proposed something to the Queen. The moment he'd had the chance, he'd tried to find out everything about the King's past.

"He's a Vassal Hero hailed as a War Hero as well, yeah? Why not make him useful instead of a waste of resources to keep him alive?"

The Queen had agreed, and when the next Wave came around, Trash was dragged with them to the battlefield at sea, on strict orders to follow everything Queen Mirellia said.

Naofumi's hatred had even expanded to the majority of this world once he'd gotten the information that the majority of this world's rulers had gone into agreement that whenever possible, they would travel with the Waves to fight and eradicate different worlds to let their own survive.

Funny how they didn't tell that to the Four Heroes, huh?

He didn't really care that Glass had come to fight against the Four Heroes, he couldn't care less for the survival of this world, but he would be damned if he didn't find a way to leave it before it could be destroyed.

But, despite the hatred, Naofumi had come to care for L'Arc and Therese during their time at Cal Mira.

Naofumi had honestly been shocked when L'Arc and Therese had turned against them, but he hadn't really cared that they were fighting to destroy this world for the sake of theirs. The other three were appalled at how little care Naofumi had to actually fight the two.

What he had cared about, however, was a familiar voice arguing with Glass.

"I told you're not strong enough to help us yet! You have years to go! Now we'll have to fight and protect you!"

"I don't care if you think I'm too weak, I need to look for him!"

"That doesn't mean you should forcefully join me when world-jumping!"

A few moments later, Glass and a young man joined L'Arc and Therese.

Naofumi couldn't focus on the surrounding talking with his eyes, and mind zeroed in on the young man standing with L'Arc's group. He looked a year or two older than last Naofumi had seen him, he was wearing different clothes, and his hair was longer, but he was still the same.

Then, a pair of similar emerald green eyes met Naofumi's and widened in shock, body frozen.

A moment later, a pair of arms wrapped around Naofumi, holding him tight.

"Big Brother!"

Naofumi didn't waste a second before hugging his younger brother back, clutching just as tightly as before they'd been caught by that group of solider's from Melromarc's army.

"Ah... This makes things a bit complicated..." L'Arc trailed off

"How so?" Naofumi asked, not letting go of his shaking brother

"We promised him to help him find his brother again, and he would help us protect our world, but since you're the Shield Hero..." Therese explained

"I don't care for this world. He told you what happened to ours, yes? Well, this is the world that attacked our home world and caused its destruction. I don't want to fight for it anymore. If we can find a way for me to be able to world-jump with you, I will gladly surrender-" Naofumi was interrupted

"Naofumi! What the hell are you talking about?!" Motoyasu shouted

"Sir Iwatani, how do you know about world-jumping?" Apparently they'd been taking enough time for the Queen to join them

"... Motoyasu, Itsuki, Ren, did you know that the majority of Rulers in this world are in an agreement to eradicate and destroy any world they come across while traveling to other worlds via the Waves? That they'll kill and cause the deaths of millions and billions of people?" Naofumi said, leaving the three speechless

"As for your questions, Your Majesty; your husband was hailed as a War Hero for causing the destruction of countless worlds, yes? My brother and I lost our world to invaders coming through our world's First Wave, and their leader was a man with a purple cape, wielding a Staff. The face of your younger husband is engrained in my mind as he executed innocents from our Kingdom after they'd killed everyone alongside the Monsters we'd never seen before."

#naofumi iwatani #the rising of the shield hero #rising of the shield hero #shield hero #shield hero prompt #shield hero short fic #shield hero idea #i forgot how i wanted to finish this so this is what ya'll are getting

[le-ootaku]

BNHA Rarepair Horror Fest #1!

~~~~~~~~~~

This event was organized by: @bnhararepairhub

~~~~~~~~~~

Rarepair - Izuku Midoriya x Melissa Shield (DekuLissa/DekuMeli)

Prompt/Title - Japanese Horror Movies

Cold autumn wind whistled outside Midoriya’s apartment. It was October 31st - so what better to do than to cuddle with your girlfriend and watch classic American horror movies?

“What do you want to watch now?” Melissa held the TV remote in her hands, waiting for her boyfriend to fire a suggestion.

“What have we watched so far?”

“Too much to count,” Melissa didn’t want to think about the incredulous amount of time they had spent watching movies.

Midoriya thought for a moment as he stretched the hours of binge watching out of him. “As much as I love your American movies, why don’t we watch some of mine?”

“You have horror movies?”

“Not just any horror movies - the scariest Japanese horror movies of all time!!”

Melissa laughed, “Okay, let’s see if they’re as scary as you say they are.”

Midoriya shuffled through his collection of DVDs and shoved one in the DVD player.

“Prepare yourself…” he chuckled.

—LATER—

The living room was dark, which was good, because then Midoriya couldn’t see Melissa’s petrified face. But it also didn’t matter, because she clung to him like Velcro anyway.

Midoriya held back a laugh, “are you scared?”

“Maybe…” admitted Melissa. “I hate this movie…”

Midoriya pet the back of her hair, “Ju-On is a classic.”

She scoffed, “so is IT.”

He laughed at her quip and pulled her close. “Don’t worry, it’s all fiction anyway.”

As the movie moved to its credits, bold, white words stood out from the dark background:

BASED ON A TRUE STORY

~~~~~~~~~~

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #anime #deku #melissa shield #dekumeli #dekulissa #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #bnha fanfic #fic #fiction #fanfic #short fic #bnha rarepairs #bnha Rarepair #BNHA Rarepair horror fest #bnhararepairhub #bnha halloween #halloween theme #horror #horror movies #ju on the grudge

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Weeks 193 & 194

Welcome to weeks 193 & 194

A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 30 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE.

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

I Will Always Wait For You - (Steve x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Made for Me - epilogue - (Bucky x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Crossing the Line - (Bucky x Reader) - @thestarkinternship

Invitation - (Steve x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Two Flames - (Steve x Reader) - @labella420

In the Court of the Shield and Star - Chp 1 - (Steve x OFC) - @hollybee8917

Nurse - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Hero’s Welcome - (Steve x Reader) - @labella420

Second Hand - (Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Double Trouble - (Stucky x Reader) - @marvelavengerspovs1

Exhibition - @nekoannie-chan

Housewarming - (Steve x Reader) - @the-iceni-bitch

Hello - (Steve x Reader) - @cockslutpadalecki

Unintended Encounters - (Ari x Reader) - @labella420

All His - (Curtis x Honey) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Sergeant Snuggles - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Fugitive - (Steve x Reader) - @lokischambermaid

Daily battle - @nekoannie-chan

Everything You Want - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Cuddle bug - (Steve x Reader) - @nicoline1998enilocin

What did I forget? - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Make A Wish And Blow … - (Steve x Reader x Bucky x Brock) - @americasass81

Recognition - Part 4 - (Captain Hydra x Reader) - @labella420

TOL - I'm your daddy now (2) - (Lloyd x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Seasons Stuffies - (Bucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

Built Differently - Full of Surprises - (Stucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

Collared part 37 - @spnexploration

Collared part 38 - @spnexploration

Finding Home (3) - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet - Chp 5 - (Curtis x Honey) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #missy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #ari levinson x reader #stucky x reader #curtis everett x reader #brock rumlow x reader #Captain Hydra x reader #lloyd hansen x reader

[imtryingbuck]

Happy at last

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: The team lose their friend (I’m bad at summaries sorry)

Word count: 751

Warnings: fluffy (my attempt at it anyway), mention of suicide. there’s a bit in the fic that is most definitely wrong by law but just go with it okay? Okay. the last chapter

A/N: I’m really sorry this is short. This weekend hasn’t been the greatest so…anyways sorry if it’s shit but I genuinely don’t have the energy to do anymore. I do hope you enjoy it though and thank you to everyone who’s commented, liked and reblogged each chapter it truly means the world🤍

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

It’s been three years since Y/n and Bucky left hand in hand for Wakanda. The first nine months they were there was pretty hectic. 

Shuri got her prepped and ready for the deprogramming, which didn’t take as long as Bucky’s. When she was clear of her trigger words that Bucky had read out, just like she read his all them years ago.

Steve let Bucky know that the President had been arrested for his role at Hydra, just after he was arrested he committed suicide. His name was still tarnished and the whole world knew what he had done.

Y/n made sure that his mistress, the mother of his unborn child, Alisha Grey and Baby Grey’s bodies were found and given a proper burial, right next to where her grave lays.

The new President gave Y/n a full pardon and gave her the Presidential Medal of Freedom medal. Stating on national television that Y/n L/n was never a traitor but a hero. A hero that had been saving people’s lives since she was 16 years old and that’s what she should be always known and remembered for. A hero.

The bosses and agents of SHIELD were all fired for what they did to her. Some were even arrested and sent to prison.

The warden of the Raft was arrested and sent to prison for endangering life that he was in charge of and for abuse and neglect, as well as profiting from assaults. He got 20 years.

Hydra had finally been shut down completely, all agents arrested and charged to with life imprisonment.

Y/n and Bucky’s relationship started. After she was given the all clear Bucky didn’t waste a single millisecond to kiss her. Kissing her like his life depended upon it right in front of T’Challa, Shuri, Nakia and Okoye - who all cheered and clapped.

When the time came for them to go back to their other home, Bucky tried to convince her to stay-

“Doll we have a life here, we’re safe”

“But… then that means we’ll have a normal life”

“And?”

“I-I don’t know how to live a life that’s normal Buck, all my life I’ve been trained to fight from one fight to the next…”

“I know, and my love you’re not alone. I’m right here with you. We’ll do it together I promise living a normal life scares me too but we can continue to be happy here”

She hesitated, what he was saying was true and she knew that. Though she did have to admit she took to farming rather quickly, naming all their goats after members of the team and the bull they had after Fury. She also did enjoy helping out on the markets, bouncing from stall to stall. Loved helping the children with schoolwork and keeping them busy by playing with them when their parents were busy or tired. She especially loved the day she delivered a beautiful baby girl - bless Bucky’s heart he had to hear about it every day for nearly two weeks, in full detail.

She loved the feeling of being free. Free from the pain and suffering she either saw or went through. Free from one order to the next. Free to finally be herself.

But even if she did love that feeling she was terrified off it, what she had told Bucky wasn’t wrong, all of her life the only thing she knew what to do was to fight and to survive.

Wakanda was her home from the minute she stepped foot in the country many years ago, and with Bucky by her side she knew everything was okay, right?

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

“Okay we can stay” Bucky picked her up and spun her around until he lost his footing making them fall to the ground, it didn’t stop him from placing kisses upon kisses to her face.

The team understood when Bucky and Y/n told them that they was retiring, nor was they surprised by the two’s relationship.

One by one the team followed suit and retired too, all being welcomed openly by King T’Challa and the people of Wakanda.

Each and everyone of them had found happiness.

It’s now the 9th of March 2026, time currently is 11:54pm, their whole family is waiting outside the couples home wincing at hearing Y/n’s screams. 

The clock strikes 12:01 and all is heard is the cries of a baby.

Bucky runs out a few minutes later with tears streaming down his face.

“It’s a boy!”

<Previous

Tags: @unaxv @learisa @vicmc624 @bethexo07 @doublebassallie @cyberficlya @elijahssuit @sapphirebarnes @wasffginc @ladyvenera @casa-boiardi @cjand10 @iloveceandsswithallmyheart @violetwinterwidow01 @avocadotoastwithegg

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #Asset #Bucky Barnes Asset series #bucky barnes fluff #bucky and reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #james barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes

[married2myphone]

Chapter One: Who Did It?

Life As The Avengers' House Keeper

Pairings: Platonic! Avengers x Female Reader

Tags & Warnings: humour, fluff, found family

Chapter Summary: Ex-Hydra agent/Undercover Shield agent/Avenger turned house keeper, Y/n, spent the entire day picking up after the Avengers after they threw a party the night before. She was incredibly exhausted, and after making dinner, she was ready to just call it a day... Until someone decided not to follow the very simple rule of "Put used dishes in the sink after using them." Now Y/n was about to rain hell upon the Earth's greatest defenders.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/n: I don't usually write fics like this, but I'm a sucker for found family. Also, reader is really short cause I think it makes it funnier.

Tag List: @olsensnpm, @natasha-belova, @caroldanvers2

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

—

The Avengers have gone through more than what any regular person could ever imagine. It felt as though everyday, they were putting their lives on the line to protect others, and they did it all with a brave face. Whether it be nazis, aliens, super soldiers; they defeated them all and saved the world more times than they could count.

They were heroes, the greatest hope of the Earth. There was nothing that could defeat them, and whenever they were brought down, they never hesitated to get back up. It was as if after everything they’ve seen, nothing could ever scare them anymore. In a way that was true. Very little scared the members of the Avengers. They almost feared nothing at all.

Except for one person.

“Who did it?” 

The Avengers were lined up in the middle of the living room of the compound. Some had their arms crossed with a defensive look on their faces, some were avoiding eye contact and moving awkwardly. Either way, they were all forced to face the five foot two woman in front of them who was close to losing her shit.

She had spent the entire day cleaning up after Tony threw a party last night, then she had to carry all that damn laundry to the laundry room, which for some reason, was on the other side of the damn compound; then do grocery shopping because their fridge was completely cleaned out for the week, then she had to fold and distribute the clothes; then she spent three hours cooking dinner.

All she had to do was set the table and eat, then everything would be done. She could sleep, and everything would be fine. It was an incredibly stressful day, she just wanted to get it over with. But of course, something had to be wrong.

There was a missing glass from the cabinet and that completely ruined the table set up. She couldn’t find it anywhere and she has told this team of knuckleheads thousands of times over that after using a dish, they put it in the sink. Not even the dishwasher because she didn’t trust them to organize it properly. Of course, they stayed stubborn, and normally, Y/n would let it go.

But not today. She was looking to beat some ass.

So there she was, standing impatiently in front of the world’s strongest heroes, threatening them with a slipper. Behind her was a table set with perfectly good food that was getting colder by the second.

No one was allowed to eat until Y/n figured out which one of them was guilty for leaving a glass out.

“Peter?” The boy flinched and almost physically jumped at his name being called, hesitantly raising his head and meeting the woman’s eyes.

“I won’t get mad if it was you. Just be honest.” She said in a calming tone, though her still gripping a slipper in her hand didn’t do much to ease Peter’s nerves.

“It wasn’t me, I swear. I always wash the dishes after I use them like you told me to. I even dry them and put them back in the right cabinet right after intsead of using the dishwasher because that wastes money.” Peter whined, still very scared as he eyed the slipper in the woman’s hand.

“Alright, I believe you. You can eat.” Y/n said with a sigh, and Peter let out a breath of relief, a smile coming up to his face as he happily left the line and went to the dining table where food was prepared.

“Sam, Bucky.” Y/n called out and Sam let out an offended grunt.

“Why are you asking us?” He asked and Y/n raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why are you so defensive?” She countered and Sam looked away guiltily at the question. 

“I can’t speak for Sam, but it wasn’t me. I have my own bottle I drink from. I never use the glasses.” Bucky said and Y/n stared at him down, trying to gauge whether or not the man was lying.

He stared back challengingly, though when Y/n tilted his head, he couldn’t help but clear his throat in awkwardness, his eyes going down to the floor. For such a stoic man who was known for his unwavering stare, it would be a shock to see him fall to the gaze of such a tiny woman. But it happened so often now that the rest of the team was used to seeing it.

“You can eat.” Y/n said and Bucky gave a grateful nod, walking over to the table with Sam trying his best to walk with him without drawing attention.

“Sam, you’re not off the hook yet.” Sam let out a groan, muttering about how it wasn’t fair as he went back in line.

“Rogers, you gonna diplomat your way out of this one?” Y/n asked, turning to the man who had his arms crossed with an amused look on his face.

“You saw me drinking earlier. You also saw me put the glass in the sink, so it wasn’t me.” Steve said, rather happy with his prepared alibi.

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t use a glass earlier. I see it all the time. Use one glass, put it in the sink, then take out a perfectly clean glass an hour later instead of using the one you already took. You’re not safe yet.” Y/n said, pointing the slipper at Steve who shook his head and raised his hands in defense. 

“Natasha-”

“It was me.” Bruce spoke up with a shaky voice, but Y/n didn’t move her eyes from Natasha.

“No.” Y/n said in response to the scientist who opened his mouth to retort.

“But-”

“Bruce, sit your ass down.” Y/n interrupted, tilting her head over to the table.

Bruce glanced between Natasha and Y/n before letting out a sigh and reluctantly making his way over to the table so he could eat.

“What’s your excuse?” Y/n asked Natasha who had a stone cold look on her face, incredibly unreadable.

“I don’t drink a lot of water.” Natasha said and Y/n narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“I know, which is why we’re gonna have a talk later about your health. Now, get over there.” Y/n said and Natasha let out a sigh before she went over to the table, mumbling about how she was in perfectly good health.

“What do you have to say for yourself, old man?” Y/n asked, turning to Clint who let out a tired sigh. The one time he decides to stay over for the weekend, and he was already in the middle of another issue.

“Look, I live with three kids and a wife who likes to have the house in a very specific way. If someone’s gonna misplace a glass, it’s not me.” Clint explained and Y/n narrowed her eyes at him before relenting.

“Fine, but only because Laura always talks about how great you are at home.” The words made Clint smile and he happily went to eat dinner while texting his wife and teasing her about what Y/n said.

“Thing one and thing two.” Y/n said as she turned to face the twins. Pietro was sitting on the couch, staring at the food impatiently while Wanda had a confident look on her face.

“I’m the most organized person in this entire compound, and you know it, Y/n. I would never leave a glass out. I even took out all the dishes from the dishwasher and put them all back in the right place while you were out.” Wanda said and Y/n smiled happily at the girl.

“I know you did, and thanks so much for that. Go eat.” Y/n said in a kind tone. Wanda sent a cheeky grin to her twin brother and flipped him off with both fingers before going over to the table.

Pietro rolled his eyes, about to flip off his sister back when he caught the glare Y/n was sending his way.

“Y/n. Beautiful, kind, talented Y/n.” Pietro said with a sheepish grin. 

“Did you leave a glass out?” Y/n asked, ignoring Pietro’s flattery.

“No.” The boy answered simply.

“I don’t believe you.” Y/n responded and Pietro let out a scoff, hands shooting up in disbelief.

“What do you want me to say? I didn’t do it.” Pietro said, but when Y/n showed no signs of believing him, he let out a huff and crossed his arms, pouting like a child.

“And then there were three.” Y/n said, looking at the remaining Avengers. Steve continued to look incredibly amused at the situation, Sam looked offended, while Pietro continued sulking.

“Time’s ticking, boys. They’re gonna finish all the food before I even think about letting you eat.” Y/n said, staring down the three.

“And what are you gonna eat, huh? You gonna starve like the rest of us?” Sam asked dramatically, pointing his finger at the woman who raised her eyebrow at it. Sam quickly put the finger down but continued his stance.

“I spent seven days locked in a cell with no food and water and still managed to survive. One night without dinner won’t kill me. Besides, I can cook whatever I want, whenever I want.” Y/n countered and Sam cursed under his breath.

“Damn, she’s good.” Sam said and Steve shook his head at the hilarity of the situation.

“Look, maybe depriving us of a meal isn’t the best way to sort this situation out. How about we discuss it formally over dinner like adults and get to the bottom of it there. You spent so much time making this dinner for us, Y/n. It’d be a waste if it wasn’t eaten by all of us.” Steve said, slowly approaching Y/n with his arms out.

“Kiss ass.” Sam muttered to Pietro who snickered. Y/n cleared her throat and glared at the two. Pietro slapped Sam’s shoulder to show that he was on Y/n’s side, but this only caused Sam to retaliate and the two began a back and forth fight of slapping each other, which Y/n rolled her eyes at.

“You make a very compelling case, Steve… But no, I’m standing my ground. Until you all learn how to follow the small amount of rules I ask of all of you, the next dinner you’re gonna be eating will be laced with poison.” Y/n said, pointing his finger and glaring at Steve.

“Hey, gang. What’s for dinner?” Everyone in the room turned to Tony who walked into the room. His hair was wet with a towel around his neck, and the man walked over to the water dispenser with an empty glass in his hand.

“What?” Tony asked, turning to the team with furrowed eyebrows when he realized everyone was staring at him in complete silence.

Y/n let out a deep breath from her nose, eyes closed as she tried to control her irritation. The Avengers watched with bated breath as Y/n went over to the fridge and pulled something out before going over to the pantry and pulling something else out.

She then walked back to Tony, snatching the glass in his hand while he was mid-drink, causing some of the water to splash on him.

“Hey!” He said in protest, but was cut off when Y/n shoved two things in his hand. 

He looked down to see a tiny tub of microwaveable rice, along with a can of tuna in his hands.

“Enjoy your dinner, Tony.” Y/n said with a menacing smile before turning to Pietro, Steve, and Sam.

“Go on and eat, you three. You’re gonna run out.” Y/n said and there was a pause before everyone went back to their business.

Sam and Pietro quickly went over to the table and Steve went over to the dumbfounded Tony Stark who was looking in confusion at his “dinner” before glancing over to the whole meal prepared for the rest of them. 

“You might want to go take a look at the rules list again, buddy.” Steve said, patting Tony on the shoulder before going over to the table. 

“Anyone who feeds Tony is eating canned food for the next week.” Y/n called out from where she was before entering her room, the slamming of a door ringing through the air.

Y/n let out a sigh and went over to her bed, reaching into her side table and taking out a tupperware of mini donuts before grabbing a remote and turning on the tv.

It was a known rule in the compound that no one was allowed to eat on their beds, but Y/n was an exception to all the rules. Not just because she made them, either. Y/n was the one responsible for doing everything around the compound, the rules were simply to make things a bit easier on her. 

If Y/n from a few years ago saw her now, she would think that she was some imposter and kill her on sight. But so much has changed during that time. From one of the best HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the field to the Avengers’ housekeeper. 

She went from having a kill count of over two hundred people during her first year as an agent with a ninety-eight percent success rate on missions at the age of nine, to doing the Avengers’ dirty laundry every Sunday. She used to be a high level threat and if she lasted long enough, she would’ve been an Avengers level threat too. But now she helps out Spider-Man with his Home Economics homework every other weekend.

Sometimes Y/n finds herself thinking “What the hell am I doing?” Whenever she remembers that she could very much kill everyone in the compound without breaking a sweat. But just as fast as that thought came, it disappeared with a mere shrug.

That life was way behind Y/n. Old Y/n would think she was completely humiliating and a disgrace to everything she worked for if she saw her now, but present Y/n didn’t give a single shit. She liked her life now, and she meant that.

She never imagined herself picking up after the Avengers who, surprisingly, were the most reckless people when it came to self care. But here she was now, and she wasn’t complaining. Well, sometimes she did complain, but overall, it wasn’t a bad time.

Y/n had originally met the Avengers when they were formed, save for Clint and Natasha. She’s been there from the beginning; undercover HYDRA agent posing as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was then chosen for the Avengers initiative. It was supposed to be easy. Act like a hero and get all the information she could on them to help HYDRA take them down, along with anyone else who got in their way.

But she was compromised. Emotionally, at least. Even though Y/n had too much pride to admit it out loud, they all knew it. She had grown fond of them and didn’t particularly want to see any of them die. So, she indirectly helped Steve with the whole HYDRA situation at S.H.I.E.L.D.

When they realized Y/n was a member of HYDRA all along, they threw her in a cell and subjected her to a bunch of questioning. It took a really long time to get everyone to trust her again, but she found her way. 

She ended up escaping her cell and went into hiding for an incredibly long time. Then the battle of Ultron came and she decided, eh, why not fight with them one last time against a bunch of murderous robots in a floating city? It was a good way to go.

But somehow, they all managed to get out of that alive. Realizing that Y/n really was a changed person, the Avengers decided they could keep her around. It was clear that she wasn’t the same person she was before and had no intentions of breaking their trust again.

They had offered Y/n her old job as an Avenger once more, and after thinking about it for a while, Y/n realized that she didn’t want to go back to fighting. The battle in Sokovia was more than Y/n ever bargained for, and she really was prepared to die then.

Y/n knew that if she stayed with the Avengers, things would be just like that, if not worse, and Y/n was tired. She had spent her whole life fighting; raised from the ground up to be nothing but a soldier meant to be ready to give up her life for a cause she never believed in.

But she didn’t want to leave them either. That time she spent laying low was one of the loneliest times in her life. The Avengers taught her what it meant to be a human instead of a weapon, and she owed them the world. She just wasn’t ready to pay that debt through more years of fighting.

During that time on the run though, Y/n learned one thing. She was damn good at housework. She had to keep herself occupied during that time alone, and Y/n spent most of it learning how to cook, clean, and everything else. It was relaxing to her because it kept her mind off of the bad things.

When the Avengers brought her to the new compound where there was always some new mess being made, Y/n felt like she was in a playground. So much to clean and Y/n was more than willing to do all of it.

Well, most of it. The compound was a huge place, Y/n wasn't about to clean all of that every single day. Even she had her limits. So they agreed to keep her services within the living area, and if Y/n was particularly bored, she could clean elsewhere if she so pleased.

Soon enough, it was decided. Y/n was going to be the Avengers’ housekeeper. They were a bit hesitant about it first. It didn’t really feel right to have an old member of the Avengers just clean up after them like a maid.

Though Y/n did threaten all of them that if they ever called her a maid, she’d kill them all in a heartbeat.

Years passed though, and Y/n continued being their housekeeper. Plus, the team grew and Y/n found herself a family. She was happier than ever, despite how annoying some of them could be. Being a worldly threat and deadly killer couldn’t compare to picking after these odd bunch of heroes.

Being the Avengers’ housekeeper changed her life for the better as she was introduced to things she never would have known had she stayed in HYDRA. It was no surprise that HYDRA didn’t care much for their agents. For a long time, she was living like a weapon and she never saw anything wrong with it, because she didn’t think there was any other way to live.

But then she became a part of the Avengers and they treated her like she was a real person. It took awhile, but the longer she stuck around with them, Y/n started believing that maybe she was human. She liked feeling human. She liked all the things the world had to offer, and she liked the feeling she got when she was around the Avengers.

So there she was, lying in her bed eating donuts while watching some children’s cartoons when just years ago, she was spilling blood without even a second thought. 

Life was good.

#avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #mcu x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #clint barton x reader #bruce banner x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #peter parker x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Girl thank you so so so so so much for writing yandere!Konig because LEMME TELL YOU I did not know I needed him until I stumbled upon your blog. Reading Just Friends was like a breath of fresh air, your characterization of Konig's character was AMAZING. Seriously, I think you've ruined all other Konig pics for me lol! I loved how unhinged and scary he was but also how caring and kind he was towards Engel <3

BTW have two questions regarding Konig in Just Friends!

1. How old is he in this fic? (apologies if you already mentioned this in the fic I have a terrible memory)

2. At what point in his and Engel's relationship would he finally allow her to look at him without his hood on? What kind of experience would that be for both of them? Also, what do you imagine him to look like? (sorry I'm now realizing this is more than 2 questions)

By the way, I just read Man-Sized and wow that was a phenomenal fic, I gotta say I love love love your interpretation of Ghost's character. I feel like Ghost is a tough character to write but you really nailed him!

Thanks in advance! (I'm gonna go binge the rest of your awesome fics hehe)

Thank you so much sweetie!! You shower me with compliments and I've read your message so many times, it always puts a smile on my face 💕 As for your questions:

1. Considering that this is an AU where König is not a colonel, and because some of his mannerisms are a bit boyish, I’d say König is somewhere around 27–32 in this fic...?

2. Removing the hood completely, even in Engel's presence, is super challenging for König because the mask is not only a comfort object, it's his shield against the world. He can't bear anyone to look at him and what's been done to him, he actually thinks himself a monster (a thought planted in his mind by his father).

I'm actually getting slasher vibes from Just Friends König's relationship with his mask; I don't know if you're familiar with the lore on Michael Myers (Halloween) or Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th), but the mask means everything to all of them and so it does to König. It transforms him into a hero, a soldier, an operator, a functioning human being. Without it he's reduced to scarred, vulnerable, weak man.

So... it will take time before he would take it off and even more time for him to be comfortable with hanging around without it (if that's even possible). But Engel has learned to love his scars, so I'm sure König will eventually lower down that shield when they're alone ❤️

I’d imagine the first times happen when they’re cuddling and Engel lifts the mask to kiss him. Days and weeks pass, more cuddling ensues, and König lets the cloth stay up longer and longer when he sees she’s not repulsed. Engel kisses his scars, caresses his face, tells him that he’s handsome and that she loves him – it doesn’t transform König from an abused, bullied, broken man to someone cheerful and outgoing, but it allows him to at least ease into the fact that there’s someone in this world who doesn’t fear or hate him. He's been blessed with a woman who doesn't think he's a monster, so he is even more convinced that Engel is a heavenly being because how else would she be able to touch and love him like this...?

(3.) I actually shared some pics earlier on what I imagine König looking like, but I'm having second thoughts about it which is why I don't want to share a link to that ask. It may sound odd but it's always been really hard for me to imagine what's under that hood! People seem to have so many different headcanons on what he looks like, I think it's really cool. I have nothing, I wish I had something 🥲 His face has always been just blurred, sensored void to me, the only thing I imagine is that König has dark blonde/light brown hair (he might prefer a short military cut because he's a freak for all things army) and that he has thin lips?

And she even tells him she likes it when he’s without the hood, tells that she likes to see his face and wants to just watch him and kiss him. König will eventually lose the hood more often when he’s with her. It's not for his sake, but hers. If Engel wants to see him, who is he to deny her? It makes his heart and chest tight, but he’ll just have to live with it. Besides, Engel’s lips and touch feel better than being inside that baggy darkness all the time.

#answered #yandere könig #just friends fic

[friendly-neighborhood-imbecille]

Fic masterpost sorted by recency. All are below 10k

Crushing an Egg (Mr. Lancer rushes into the school during an attack to find and rescue his missing student, he ends up rescuing the town hero instead. Gory description of serious injury)

A Change of Mind (Vlad realizes he no longer hates Jack Fenton. Art imbed)

A Complication with Evacuation (Danny can’t escape through the ghost shield during an evacuation so Lancer insists on staying inside the school with him to protect him. Reveal fic)

Purify & Infect (Maddie attempts to get rid of the ghost possessing her son. Read the tags)

Monster (Dan’s origin free from Vlad’s revision of the story. Dan is created and he is not mentally okay. Art imbed)

A Truce (Maddie offers Phantom a truce in exchange for answers)

Shield (Jazz protects her brother from their parents. Dissection fic)

Guys that Bind (Johnny fixes Danny’s binder after it’s ripped in a fight. Trans Danny fic)

I’m gonna store my drabbles in this fic (Two short drabbles, one about the unspoken knowledge the Casper High student body shares about a less than human classmate, one about Danny Phantom being dragged to a parent teacher conference by Frostbite)

You’re Just Bored (Danny has a complicated relationship with food. Vent fic)

I’m Okay (Danny tries to fix the portal. Corpse au)

Circuit Overload (Technus finds out why Danny is weak to electrical attacks. Surprisingly not angsty)

Jack Fenton Says Fuck (Jack Fenton goes off ghost hunting alone and comes across a battle between the Wisconsin Ghost and Phantom. Reveal fic)

Better (Valerie is working for the GIW as a capture agent after discovering the truth about Vlad Masters. She sees firsthand what has become of one of the ghosts she handed over to the GIW. Dissection fic)

Skeletons in the Closet (Jack’s brother visits Jack and Maddie and is concerned for the well-being of his niece and nephew, even more so when he discovers what the big project Jack was so excited to show him really is. Dissection fic)

Safe (A crow feels comforted while close to Danny, so much so that it neglects itself in favour of staying close to him. Animal death)

The Warehouse (Supernatural crossover. Sam and Dean overhear Spectra messing with Danny and talking about his home life. They offer to help him, human or not. My most popular fic)

Summoning (Blue Exorcist crossover. Danny is mistakenly summoned by a cultist.)

Ouija Board (Sam tries to talk to her dead friend.)

Alone (Ghosts don’t understand they’re dead and are ignored purposefully by the living. Danny comes back as a ghost and believes his family no longer wants him.)

A Shot Rang Out (Supernatural crossover. The Winchesters go to Jack Fenton to learn about ghosts after Jazz and Maddie are killed in an accident. Child abuse)

November Third (Supernatural crossover. Vlad is killed by Hunters.)

#danny phantom #my fics #fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fics

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 14: Blood-Stained Tiles (Legend/Fable)

Ao3

Note: Two quick things! First, this will be my last Febuwhump fic. I’m overwhelmed with life rn and am not in the right headspace to continue this challenge. However, I have extra fics and ideas left over from it that I’m planning to write up later on. So keep an eye out ;)

Second, thanks for @ladye-zelda and @skyward-floored for the idea to do a zelink fic and specially Ladye for suggesting that I write something for flying tiles (and for reminding me that today is Valentines XD). And now onto your regularly scheduled fic

CW for blood and injury, torture, and loss of a finger

————————-

Fable walks forward with steadfast determination. Anger burns in her veins, strengthening the magic that twirls gracefully about her fingertips. Her boots clack proudly across the tiled floor, announcing her presence without fear.

Let them know she’s here. Let them come. She is more than ready to face whatever horrors see fit to leap from the darkness.

More than ready to do whatever is necessary to find Link.

It has only been a short time since she entered the dungeon with him and the hero who calls himself Twilight. Her informants had claimed a group of thieves were making their base there. And as her and Legend had both agreed that no run-of-the-mill thief would hide out in this abandoned maze of deadly rooms, they had decided having some backup wouldn’t hurt.

…or she had stated that some backup wouldn’t hurt. Link had seemed strangely perturbed to have the rancher accompanying them.

“We’d be fine just the two of us, you know,” he had mumbled after Twilight cheerily agreed to her polite request. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

But in the end he had acquiesced her wishes, even if it was with a slight — and rather adorable — pout.

Even having some aid, however, hadn’t been enough. The thieves that they had dealt with in the past were not quite the same caliber as the ones cloaked here. That much had become painfully clear when Link had led them into a room full of his most abhorred adversaries.

Flying floor tiles.

And, well, they had certainly flown. First at him, striking his shield despite Fable’s efforts to direct them elsewhere. And then, suddenly, without any rhyme or reason they had begun to drop.

Link had plummeted with a shout that was quickly silenced when his head connected sharply with another tile.

Try as she might, Fable has not been able to rid herself of the sight of his blood, sharp against the glowing white.

She shakes her head in another attempt now, as Twilight fits the last key into the large door. The door that leads to the place where bosses lurk, eager to devour their prey.

“Well, we certainly got here fast,” the rancher comments. The lock falls away, clattering to the floor. “Either these guys aren’t as thorough as we thought or…”

Fable drags in a shallow inhale. “Or they wanted us to come to them.”

The latter theory would certainly explain why when she and Twilight rushed out onto the tiles to try and save their friend, neither had fallen. The tiles had gone back to their usual state — bothersome and painful on contact, but not at all like the cracked ones designed to plunge you into the depths.

Something is going on here, and Fable has little enthusiasm for it.

The door is gliding up now, however, allowing them to step into gloom. And she has no choice but to square her shoulders and walk through.

There’s no backing down now, no matter what awaits her inside this cursed room. Not that that had ever been a choice in the first place.

Though, when the door slams shut behind her and Twilight and a collection of lanterns flicker on, she almost wishes that it was.

Rather than the gargantuan enemies Link had described to her, in the middle of the room a group of men and women stand. Some glare at her as she advances, the rancher close at her side. Others sneer. But their expressions have no effect on her.

The person kneeling amongst them, however, is a different story.

Fable gasps before she can stop herself.

“Oh, Link.”

Violet eyes meet hers, their usual sharpness dulled, pupils mismatched. A trail of blood streams down a small, angular face, stark against pale skin and blonde hair. A once pristine tunic is now dusty and torn.

They have bound him, both hand and foot, and fitted a gag between his pale lips. But he struggles against them anyway.

That fire of his hasn’t gone out, not yet. It won’t ever, if Fable has anything to do with it.

“Release him.” Her voice shatters the leering silence, the force of it belying the fear within. “Now.”

The cackles that meet her order are neither shocking nor welcome.

“Afraid we can’t do that,” one of the thieves says. He grins, showcasing a mouth of crooked teeth — some of which are missing.

(Fable would very much like to knock out a few more.)

“The Princess’ favorite little hero is too precious a treasure to just toss out.”

Another thief smirks. Something glints in his hand. Fable can feel Twilight grow even more tense.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t rough him up a bit.”

“Lay one finger on him and you’ll regret it,” Fable snaps, stepping forward. But the knife zips toward Link’s exposed neck and instantly, she goes still.

Twilight’s hand had rushed to clutch his sword. It falls now, back to lie at his side, balled into a fist.

“Try anything,” the grinning man hisses, “and he’s dead.”

Fury is boiling within her now, a surging mass of molten lava about to bubble over. Fable grits her teeth so fiercely she fears they will break.

“What do you want?”

“Simple.” That cursed smile grows wider. The knife presses closer. “We want free reign to do what we want. Without any royals or heroes intervening.”

Fable’s fingernails slice into the palm of her hand. Her magic calls out from within, begging to be set free.

“I cannot allow that.”

It is quiet for a beat. Then, the thief nods to one of his cohorts situated just behind Link.

“Well, ain’t that a pity.”

Everything happens so fast, Fable hardly realizes it. There is another glint of silver, the sound of ropes being split apart. Link’s hand is dragged forward, fingers splayed on the ground. His eyes widen as he tries vainly to break free.

The world slows for the slightest of seconds. The weapon comes down. Blood spurts.

Link’s scream is muffled. But it is sharp nonetheless, hitched at the end like a restrained sob.

Fable doesn’t doubt that it will remain in her mind forever.

“Every time you refuse,” the thief growls as she presses a hand to her mouth, fighting against the furious tears that press at the edges of her eyes. “We take off another digit. He won’t be much use to you without fingers, now will he?”

A low growl rumbles from Twilight. Anger radiates off of him. Fable swallows her own down.

They will have to strike and soon. She only needs to find a way to do so…

“Your Majesty.” The title is mocking and accompanied by a sweeping bow. “What is your decision? Will you grant us what we want or do you still need convincing?”

“Further convincing will not be necessary,” Fable grits out. Her gaze meets Link’s for a split second before she drags it back to his captors. “Set him free, and I will grant you what you desire.”

Twilight whirls, fury and fear dancing in his blue-gray irises.

“You’re just gonna give them what they want? With all due respect, Princess, they should be imprisoned for this, not given free reign!”

Crooked teeth glint in the dying light of weak lanterns.

“Seems someone still needs some convincing, after all.”

The knife shoots upward. Link’s face grows impossibly paler as he awaits its fall.

“No!” Twilight shouts, hand outstretched, panic in his voice. His body is taut, like a bowstring about to loose an arrow. “Don’t hurt him again!”

Fable steps forward and places a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. She can only hope some small reassurance is communicated through the movement. She certainly feels no reassurance herself at the moment.

“Return my knight to me, now. After we have healed him, we can discuss the terms of our…agreement.” She spits the word like the vile thing that it is. A deception dressed up in niceties.

The thief is silent for a moment, thinking. Then, he nods.

“Fine, then. But know if you don’t grant our demands, you’re never getting out of here. We’ve meddled with the magic just for that purpose.”

Self-satisfied chuckles drift throughout the group. Fable smirks, bitterly.

“Very well.”

Twilight glances at her and she meets his fiery gaze.

“Get ready,” she mouths, and his eyes grow large. Just as quickly, they narrow, determination in them. Ever so slightly, he inclines his head.

The thieves bind Link’s wrists again, ignoring his strangled whine as the ropes graze his injured hand. Then, they drag him over, a trail of dark blood weaving in their wake, and cast him at Fable’s feet.

In an instant, she is on her knees. With trembling fingers she undoes his restraints and frees him of the gag. He breathes a shaky sigh of relief as she hurls it away.

“I’m so sorry, Link,” she whispers.

Link offers her what she supposes is meant to be a reassuring grin. It is a flimsy attempt, however, with the blood draining from his hand and running down his forehead, the pallor of his face.

“Not your fault.”

Fable gives his uninjured hand a gentle squeeze. Then, she rises and squares her shoulders.

Magic zips through her veins and streaks outward, roaring about the space. It seeks the places where the spells have been rearranged and warped. The job is sloppily done — never would it have kept two experienced mages and a hero within its bounds — and easily fixed. In an instant, Fable feels the dungeon give a sigh of relief.

The pressure hanging in the dismal air drifts away.

The thieves don’t seem to notice the shift. But Twilight does. A grin lifts his lips, feral and sharp.

He and Fable exchange a glance, before she turns back to their opponents, head held high.

“We cannot grant you what you wish. But we will certainly give you what you deserve.”

Twilight leaps forward and draws his sword in one, smooth movement. Fable sends strands of magic zipping along in his wake. One by one, the thieves crumple, hardly knowing whether their fall was by weapon or sorcery.

They try to fight. Shouting curses and obscenities, they lunge. But their daggers and clubs are little match for the hero and princess. Even their sheer number cannot save them from the onslaught of magic and fierce fight.

And finally, there is but a single opponent remaining. The cursed one with the sadistic grin.

He is grinning no longer. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, eyes glinting as Twilight approaches.

Beside Fable, Link rises shakily, wavering on unsteady legs. It is only her quick hand that keeps him from falling.

“You,” the thief growls, even as the tip of Twilight’s sword presses toward his throat. Even as his companions lie scattered and limp. “You fools think you’ve outwitted us? Oh, you’ve got no idea the power we hold. We’ll bring you down. We’ll bring you all down!”

Scooping up a dagger fallen nearby, he lurches forward, aiming for Link.

Twilight and Fable are fast, but somehow Link is faster. Tightening his grip on Fable’s hand, he brings a booted foot up sharply. It connects with the thief’s chin. His head snaps back and he crumples.

Twilight turns, a slight smirk on his lips. “Nice one, vet.”

Link grins, even as he lists sideways, leaning against Fable’s shoulder. “Creeps can’t take one of my fingers without me getting at least one hit in.”

Fable winces as her gaze travels to the appendage still lying on the bloodied ground.

“I’m not the most knowledgeable on healing magic, but I believe I know enough to reattach it at least.”

“Our traveler can take care of the rest,” Twilight puts in.

“Well, that’s good news,” Link grits out, as the rancher helps him into a seated position. “I don’t have enough room for all my rings as it is.”

Fable’s lips quirk upward just slightly. Gently, she takes Link’s hand in both of her own.

“This may sting a bit,” she says, apologetically.

Link shrugs.

The spell she weaves is a simple one, though one she can easily compound upon, strengthen into something fit to remedy such a severe wound. The glow of it wisps outward from between their clasped fingers in soft clouds of purple.

Carefully, Twilight places the finger back into its rightful place. Link’s eyes flit to the side as Fable’s spell sews torn flesh together and melds broken bone. His pallor takes on a slight green hue.

“It will still be painful,” Fable tells him, when it is finished at last, “but that should hold until we can return to the castle.”

“The sooner, the better,” Twilight says, glaring into the shadows. “We never know what else could be waiting for us here.”

“I agree.”

Fable rises and Link with her. His trembling grip on her hand remains tight. A rush of relief speeds through her at the feel of it.

To think she had come so close to losing him again. Just as she had lost him on the furious seas, tossed about and driven to unknown shores. Far from home. Far from her. Lost in a dream too murky, too thick for her to reach him through.

The tears she has been restraining fight for freedom. Viciously, she shoves them back once more.

Walk forward, she tells herself. Escape this place and get your friends to safety. Then, you may feel the emotions within you. Then, you may break.

“Hey, Zelda?” Link’s voice is uncharacteristically subdued and lacks its usual sarcastic bite. She turns just in time to see him self-consciously rub the back of his neck.

“Thanks for coming for me. And for, you know,” — he huffs a humorless chuckle “— giving me back my finger.”

Fable smiles and it feels good to be able to do so again.

“Of course,” she murmurs, daring to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll always come for you. You know that.”

His cheeks flush a vibrant shade of fuchsia and he stumbles, tripping over his own feet.

Up ahead, Twilight chuckles. “No thanks for me, vet? I’m hurt.”

“Yeah, well, face it, rancher,” Link retorts, obviously still struggling to regain a more normal complexion, “you aren’t a beautiful princess.”

Twilight barks out a snort of laughter, and Fable feels her own face grow hot. Link’s words seem to hit him in the next moment, because suddenly he looks as though he wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

“Sweet Hylia,” he groans, “this is why I didn’t want you to come along!”

Twilight only laughs. And as they walk toward sunshine and safety, Link’s embarrassed spluttering follows them all the way.

#oh and happy valentines everyone! #thanks for reading! #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 14 #blood tw #injury tw #loss of a finger #torture tw #linked universe #linkeduniverse fic #lu legend #lu fable #lu twilight #fable/legend #zelink #trin writes #whump #angst

[themculibrary]

Loki Needs A Hug Masterlist

A Place In Time (ao3) - SnakeCharmer2023 loki/mobius T, 7k

Summary: Loki knew what he'd signed up for, replacing the loom at the end of time and sitting alone on the throne.

But what if the end didn't have to be forever?

A fix-it fic after the ending of series 2, because my heart can't take it.

Beautiful Figments (ao3) - mudgems M, 104k

Summary: “Hold on,” Stark says, attempting flippancy but falling well short of the mark. “I’m confused.”

“I think that makes two of you,” Rhodes says under his breath, but his visible concern remains.

Vision is not confused. If anything, he thinks the situation is suddenly, painfully, clear. “You do not remember yourself, do you?” he asks gently, and Loki finally meets his eyes. The hollow fear Vision sees there is obvious, and he wonders why he did not notice it before.

Broken Beyond Repair (ao3) - kittyhazelnut T, 31k

Summary: Loki had committed treason on a level Asgard had never seen. He would not be welcome back to his home realm. He would remain at the mercy of those he tried to control: the humans, SHIELD, and, of course, HYDRA.

By the time the Avengers come knocking HYDRA's door, Loki's long gone in every sense but the physical. Fortunately, even in his silent, fearful state, he's managed to make some friends. Wanda and Pietro won't let anyone hurt him. The Avengers are nothing but a threat, and Ultron makes them a promise that they'll be free of those so-called heroes soon enough.

(Basically, it's an Age of Ultron au where Wanda and Pietro have adopted a very broken Loki and they're determined to keep him safe.)

Brother (ao3) - Lynsds T, 24k

Summary: Overwhelmed with grief after Loki's apparent suicide, Thor is overjoyed to hear that his brother may be alive, if not well, and invading Midgard. It's not Odin that sends him there, but Frigga, and in this world, Thor is ready to observe and to listen.

It's not just Loki who has a lot of healing to do. But they're not alone anymore, and where there's life, there's hope.

For Eternity (ao3) - himynameisv T, 2k

Summary: Sometime during his centuries of self-imposed time loops, Loki begins to hallucinate Thor.

This is perhaps not the best indication of his current mental status.

Free Fall (ao3) - Daffanddahlodil N/R, 14k

Summary: Loki tries to function after learning of his adoption, but he’s not doing as well as he’d hoped.

Here, Here, and Here (ao3) - AuroraWest M, 68k

Summary: Loki and Thor have returned to Earth after two and a half years in space, and Loki, even after a winter in New Asgard, isn't sure he'll ever feel at home.

It doesn't help that as the alien who invaded New York City in 2012, he's been placed on probation by the UN for six months. If he can go six months without leaving New Asgard and without causing any trouble, he'll be free to visit anywhere he pleases on Earth. It's only six months. He can handle it.

Except Loki is bored. And what harm would it do if he just broke his probation a tiny bit? What are they going to do—send him to prison?

Well, yes. Yes, as it turns out. That's exactly what they're going to do.

In The Dark Alone (ao3) - every_oak_tree G, 17k

Summary: It starts at the end, really, with Ragnarök, with Asgard's fall (but Loki's been falling for longer, hasn't he?). It starts with the Mad Titan and the Statesman's explosion. It starts with a dead brother, his broken body sprawled on a spaceship's floor, miles and miles away from a home that no longer exists.

___ Something stirs inside Loki. He acknowledges that this is what he wants—but not all he wants. A newfound anger makes its way into his heart, surrounding it with an impenetrable wall of ice. He will be stronger this time, ruthless and unforgiving. Because when the world has taken everything, when they have stripped you off your armour and left you for dead, you have nothing more to lose. He can do better—no, he will do better. There is no alternative. You either die a loser or live to see yourself become a winner.

___ Or: where Thor dies at the Stateman instead of Loki, but his death will not go unavenged.

Loved and Lost (ao3) - forever_whippoorwill loki/mobius G, 4k

Summary: Loki hadn't realized how much he had missed the man's comforting presence until he was here and he could see it. Let me sit here, Loki's bones begged, at the sight of Mobius just out in his yard, and watch the wind blow through your hair and ruffle it in all the ways I want to.

He was too tired to keep that thought from running through his mind.

Old Habits (ao3) - Yavvys G, 7k

Summary: Odin knows that Loki will not change - not a cycle, not a hundred cycles later. But still, weak hope and smoldering feelings pull him towards the new guise of his adopted son, and the All-Father goes to visit the reborn god.

Once More, With Feeling (ao3) - NovaWasTaken1 T, 25k

Summary: Loki survives Thanos' attack on the Statesman by the skin of his teeth, the Tesseract, and a suicidal plan to save Asgard or die trying.

This changes less than you might think.

rest your eyes, weary god (ao3) - panthor loki/mobius N/R, 3k

Summary: Something blooms in their chest with that touch, something they try their hardest to push back down. As they walk, Loki thinks about how kind Mobius has been to them tonight. Tender, even. Enough to where they let their guard down enough to sleep in front of him. As much as they hate to admit it, Mobius has shown them more humanity than almost anyone else in their life. Despite where he works, Loki can see the empathy radiating from Mobius.

or

Mobius is just a nice guy.

Stay With Me (ao3) - Bookwormgal T, 17k

Summary: Loki had lost almost everything important to him, one way or another. His place in the timeline, his family, his sense of identity, his purpose, Sylvie... Even his first true friend was snatched away, along with the familiar version of the TVA.

But part of what makes a Loki was that they never give up. He would claw his way back and reclaim some of what was taken from him. So he searched through countless versions of the TVA until he found his way back to the right one. The one that had the right Mobius.

And if fate wished to steal him away in a more permanent way, it would have to fight Loki for him. He refused to lose anything else.

Toil and trouble (ao3) - AnsibleMechanic T, 44k

Summary: “When he made it back to Asgard and managed to outwit Odin himself, he only thought of ensuring his own freedom and survival. When Thor refused the throne (his brother chose the worst time to grow wiser), Loki was still delirious in his glee of finally making the biggest, funniest joke in all the realms – the lying Jotun trickster on the throne, and not a soul suspects it!”

Loki didn’t just eat grapes and watched amateur theatre in his dad’s robes for five years. Everything from TR canon is thrown to the wolves, and we have Loki having mental health consequences of his actions in various locations, with some inter-realm politics thrown in, with eventual relocation to the Avengers Tower (in true 2012 fashion) for more angsting and agonising. Hopefully with some friends we found along the way.

to see the world (as you do) (ao3) - T, 16k

Summary: When Odin finds a newborn babe in the war-torn wasteland that is Jotunheim, he takes it home; Frigga is the one to insist they must treat it as their own, and Odin loves her, so he obliges.

And then she dies, and Odin has no time for a child that only reminds him of the very thing he lost - he barely has time for his own young, grieving son.

So he locks it in the Vault, and calls it a trophy from the frozen realm.

or

All Loki knew for a long, long time were there four walls that held them, and the distorted view into the room beyond - filled with trinkets they couldn't name.

There were flashes of something else, of a woman who held them close and hummed lullabies, of a boy with hair like the sun, and a bright blue sky - but the memories were insubstantial and fleeting, slipping through their fingers like smoke.

You Screamed For So Long We Forgot To Care Anymore (ao3) - GalaxyThreads T, 126k

Summary: Five months after Thor drags his half-dead brother to Earth to plead asylum, things take a turn for the worse. With the older Asgardian out of commission and a sizeable threat overshadowing them, Clint becomes aware of two facts: One: Loki was tortured, mind-controlled, and manipulated into attacking Earth. Two: Loki knows none of this. (gen, no smut)

#themculibrary #masterlists #marvel #mcu #loki #loki needs a hug #loki needs a hug masterlist

[shieldherostuffs]

I love your blog.

Hell, I'll admit that you converted me to TheRuFumi now.

But now... prompt time if you're accepting them for (SHORT) fics (if not, ignore this part):

"You're so in love it's crazy!"

Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoy it!

Also, Y'ALL WE GOT ANOTHER ONE >:D

I will gladly accept more short fics/prompts with short ideas/one-liners like this! :D

Now, short prompt(Vaguely inspired by me getting a wisdom tooth and being disappointed because I didn't get to get high and my jaw is sore)(honestly, halfway through writing this, I realize that I could've made it angtsy/whumpy/yandere as fuck):

"You're so in love it's crazy!"

"Yeeeaaah, but I love them so much, Kizuna!"

The brunette laughed again, clutching her stomach in the chair in the resting room where Naofumi was laying on the bed, completely outta his mind because of the drugs for the surgery.

Filo had already retreated to going outside to the street with Raphtalia because the girl couldn't stop laughing.

Naofumi, since he'd gotten the chance, had started rambling about his love for his family, though mainly L'Arc and Therese. He just wouldn't shut up, and Kizuna had even given up recording a video of it after a while because she laughed so hard she couldn't keep her phone steady. Instead, she'd called L'Arc and Therese to come to pick them up from the clinic because they just Had To See This.

When the two finally arrived, Therese had to turn away to hide her laughter, yet her giggles and shaking shoulders exposed her, while L'Arc tried to interact with Naofumi without laughing his lungs out.

"Will you two please go on a date with me?! I really wanna date you both so much! I love you so so so much!" Naofumi exclaims from his place on the bed, reaching for the two with grabby hands

"K-Kiddo, we're, haha! we're allready married!" L'Arc tried to stop chuckling as he answers

But, none of them were prepared for the look of absolutely delighted surprise and adoration on Naofumi's face once he heard those words.

The three others in the room couldn't hold back their laughter and started heaving for breath, worrying Naofumi, but also making him pout because he didn't understand why the hell they were all laughing.

To console him, L'Arc and Therese rushed over to embrace him, still giggling.

"You are adorable." Therese had commented.

Once Naofumi got home and slept off the drugs, he had no chance of denying it ever happening, because of course, Kizuna had started filming as soon as L'Arc and Therese entered the room.

So, during their bi-weekly movie night with all their friends, she set up the videos on the TV, despite Naofumi's protests(which were quickly muffled by pillows and blankets being thrown at him, and L'Arc and Therese smothering him in cuddles.), giving everyone a good laugh.

Second take on this prompt, because why not write multiple?:

"You're so in love it's crazy!"

"I KNOW!"

Naofumi, once again, was in complete turmoil, except this time he wasn't thinking about his inevitable betrayal, the anger rising within his heart, or the fear of losing his close ones.

No, this, at the moment, it felt even worse, he'd quickly realized.

He'd realized he's fallen in love.

With L'Arc and Therese.

And he'd been ranting about it to Kizuna for the past 30 minutes, and she had done nothing but laugh at his misery.

The betrayal.

Instead of helping him get rid of his turmoil and helping him like the good friend she was supposed to be, she laughed at his misery, as if she hadn't been the same when she realized her feelings for Glass and spent two months trying to figure out how to as the Spirit out, only for Glass to take the mantle and declare them engaged while tipsy at a party.

"Okay, okay, do you want some help?" She'd asked, drying to dry the tears of laughter from her eyes

"YES!" No, his voice did not crack as he exclaimed his answer

"Too bad, ask someone else, I've come to terms with how shit I am at feelings!" She said, standing up from where they'd been sitting on a bench in the middle of Sickle's Royal Garden

"YOU THINK I'M ANY BETTER?" He shouted at her leaving form, incredulously

"NOPE!" She yelled back, delighted.

Unbeknownst to the two Heroes, the two people currently causing the turmoil had been hiding behind a wall of flower bushes and had heard everything.

So, they started planning.

#one-line prompt #the rising of the shield hero #rising of the shield hero #naofumi iwatani #therese alexandrite #l'arc berg #therufumi #shield hero prompt #shield hero #naofumi x l'arc x therese #kizuna kazayama #ask #therufumi prompt #short fic #therufumi short fic

[soulgazingwithbucky]

protect, ch. 1 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You've spent your whole life protecting your younger brother, until an invitation from Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes turns everything on its head.

Warnings: mentions of parent death, swearing, mentions of food, mentions of blood

Word count: 5k

A/N: this is another short series y'all, probably only gonna be two or three parts! also realized this could also work as a mom!reader fic too...if anyone would be interested i would be more than happy to post a different version. divider credits to @lesbiacebian!!!

Masterlist: {one} | {two} | {three}

You used to find it difficult to grasp that you were the painfully mortal older sister of an enhanced individual.

Even when your mother stomped off school grounds with you two in tow, having received word that your five-year-old brother displayed an impossible amount of strength against an older bully.

Even when your tween brother returned early from his first hunting trip, his best friend’s dad barely able to sputter praise at his near-professional level of expertise.

Even when he was accused of sneaking into the teacher’s lounge to get test answers, only to find out he had overheard the answer key…from three rooms over.

For better or for worse, it finally clicked when your nineteen-year-old brother proudly arrived home, one hand on his hip, the other shoving a recruitment letter from Captain America and the Winter Soldier in your face.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what this was. Steve Rogers passed his shield to Sam Wilson. Clint Barton was seen running around New York with a young archer. And you can’t forget when you turned on the TV to see the Hulk’s cousin, her emerald skin glowing from the bright camera flashes.

You’d be damned if your brother became some brooding stranger’s ticket to retirement.

But Tomas would be damned if you stopped him from working alongside his heroes. He was absolutely starstruck, having looked up to the captain’s predecessor his whole life. He would consume stories about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, wondering who would be his right hand man in life.

So, you planned to do what anyone would in your shoes: go up to these buff-ass, tough-as-nails men who've seen war and tell them there was no way they would even get to touch a hair on your brother’s head. After all, it was now your job to keep him safe, lest you be eternally haunted by your mother’s ghost for forsaking her youngest child.

So when Tomas leaves for his daily martial arts practice, you march your ass on over to these alleged “mighty heroes” to give them a piece of your mind.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand what’s going on here.”

Sam Wilson has no choice but to be completely honest with you. He sits across from you, arms across his chest, shifting in his seat. His partner, Bucky Barnes, sits silently beside him. This entire time, the only change in his expression has been the slight squint of his eyes as he assesses you.

“I said no.” You cross your arms over your own chest, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows.

You say it with so much confidence that the captain almost hesitates to continue questioning you. But he presses on, anyway, asking, “To…?”

“You both seem perfectly capable of fighting evil on your own,” you say, making a show of raking your eyes over the both of them. You tap your fingers along your bicep, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. “Not sure why you need children to do your dirty work for you.”

Bucky has already decided that you irritate him. His patience is running thin, and your grating voice and superior attitude are only serving to make it worse. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out at this point, but the older hero chides, “Sorry–who are you?”

Though his display of hostility is less outright than yours, you still easily pick up on the insulting tone and judging stare. You give him your name, inflecting as much scorn into your voice as possible. They recognize Tomas’s shared surname right away, and you don’t miss the knowing glance they exchange.

“Listen, I understand your concern–,” Sam begins, but you quickly raise a hand to stop him. His eyebrows furrow at your abrupt response.

“Don’t get too excited to lecture me, Captain,” you inform him with a scowl. “I’m not one of those senators you have to bend over backwards for.”

Bucky grits his teeth, reading your ploy to get under their skin like a book. Sam Wilson’s first notable moment as Captain America was him standing up to politicians. Who bends over for whom, again?

The hero formerly known as Falcon has had his fair share of difficult conversations. In fact, he’s impressed at your stubborn determination, but he knows better than to tell you that. But he can feel his partner seething beside him, and Sam speaks up before Bucky gets a chance.

“He won’t be out on assignments with us for a long, long time. We’re just hoping to give him guidance, given his abilities,” Sam continues his attempt to explain their perspective.

You scoff. “He has enough guidance, thank you.”

It’s true. You pushed your grief aside to keep your brother’s life stable. You dropped out of university to work full-time, determined to continue your mother’s goal of cultivating his skills. Martial arts training, gymnastics teams, and language tutors were not cheap. Even if you didn’t fully agree with your mom’s vision of developing Tomas’s talents, you’d be damned if you let all of her efforts go to waste. In your own way, it was the only way your grief could manifest: continuing your mom’s version of parenthood, even if all you wanted to do was hide him away from the horrors of the world.

“Guidance from the right people, though?” Bucky says. You’re ready to snap at the perceived jab at your guardianship, but Sam’s hesitant expression makes you think Bucky’s question has a different motive.

Your smart-mouthed reply melts away, replaced with, “What does that mean?”

“Bucky–”

“No, you know what, she should know, Sam.”

“Know what?” you demand.

The heroes hear the vitriol, but they don’t see it. Your arms have dropped and you’re now leaned forward, eyebrows raising rather than scowling. Sam’s eyes flit between the both of you, trying to make the most informed decision in the next five seconds. Finally, he sighs with the slightest shake of his head.

“Trust us, we had no plans to bring Tomas into any of this,” Sam begins carefully, evenly. “But we received word that he was on a lot of radars.”

“Radars,” you huff. You’re not sure what’s worse: that you don’t know what he’s talking about, or that you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“Your brother’s skill set is valuable,” Sam continues. He leans forward, resting his clasped hands on the table. “In the right hands, he could help a lotta people. And in the wrong hands, he could hurt even more.”

Lips pressed into a hard line, you say, “And which are you?”

Bucky’s response earns an astonished look from both you and his partner.

“Come find out.”

And so you find yourself at a training facility, your posture as stiff as the bench you’re sitting on as Tomas warms up on the punching bag. Beside him, Bucky absentmindedly throws punches at a speed bag, the object swiveling into a blur as its assailant mutters to Sam under his breath.

“Hot in here, no?” Tomas says, cutting off the heroes’ conversation. Sam furrows his eyebrows at the comment, but shakes his head in response.

“Oh right, it’s just the steam coming off my sister’s head,” he says, shooting you a cheeky grin.

You mockingly laugh before Sam tells him they should get started. You watch as the three make their way to the boxing ring, where they take your brother through a series of drills. Tomas is eager as ever to show his skills off to them, landing punches and kicks on Sam’s mitts with a huge smile. 

You stand abruptly when you think Bucky is aiming a punch at Tomas’s face.

“Hey! He’s just a kid!” you shout from the bench.

Tomas throws his hands up in frustration, but turns to show you his clearly unmarked face.

“I’m nineteen,” he tells his newfound coaches.

Bucky sighs at the way Tomas’s chest puffs slightly. “Elbows down, kid.”

Later, Bucky comes over to you–well, more like his duffel bag, which sits discarded on the floor beside you. He rifles through it, pulling out a new pair of hand wraps. He fiddles with the fabric, leaning against the water cooler. The awkward silence is pervasive as you both watch Sam run agility drills with your brother.

“He’s good,” Bucky says.

“I know,” you reply curtly, making a note to tell Tomas to stop hyperextending his elbow.

You both allow the silence to fall once again, amused by the way Sam rubs his temple when Tomas throws yet another unnecessary flip into a fight combination.

“You could be putting a bigger target on his back, doing all this,” you say.

“Could be,” he echoes. “But whoever’s coming for him won’t stop. Better to have backup.”

“Captain America is backup?”

Bucky cracks a smile, watching as Sam breaks and sets off on a lecture on why a back handspring doesn’t make a jab stronger.

“Something like that.”

And so you find yourself sitting next to Tomas, absorbing every one of Sam’s words. In front of you, an entire pile of Tomas’s…recruiters sit in a chaotic pile. Foreign government entities, underground crime organizations, maybe a fucking alien spaceship or something? You try to memorize every name, every detail, but they’re all blurring together. On top of that, you’re in a completely unfamiliar location. The meeting space could barely be considered an office, and you wonder how anyone could feel comfortable in the barren sterility.

When you shake yourself out of your thoughts, you’re surprised to find a glass of water waiting for you. You glance at Tomas, then at Sam, who are completely engrossed in their conversation. You look at Bucky, who meets your eye for a second before quickly turning his attention to Sam.

Swallowing a shaky breath, you bring the cup to your lips.

“So what do we do?” you finally say, eyes laser focused on the ripples in the water, thrumming your nervous fingers along the glass. You’re not even sure what they’ve been talking about. 

“We focus on what we can control,” Sam says firmly. “We can’t make them forget about your brother, or turn their attention to something else.”

Sam turns to your brother, aiming his next words at him.

“We can focus on making sure your mind and body are strong. Stick to our training sessions, and it’d be a good idea to set up some counseling, too. You can do it with me, if you want.”

Tomas scoffs at Sam’s earnest gaze.

“You guys, I’ve been training my whole life. I’ll be fine. Shouldn’t we be hunting them down, anyway? Making sure they can’t hurt other people?”

At this point, your voice should be breaching stadium crowd levels, chiding your younger brother for his foolish determination. Instead, you can’t focus on anything else but the panicked thoughts swimming in your brain. No matter how powerful your brother was, you never relinquished your self-appointed role as his protector. You would practically bark at anyone who even looked at him in the wrong way, even as he grew older, bigger, taller. No one was safe if you felt your kid brother was in danger–not the geometry teacher, not his first boss, and definitely not that sophomore that called him an orphan in front of you.

But how could you stop a powerful crime boss? A cruel dictator? An otherworldly being with abilities beyond your comprehension? They would kill you without a second thought, wiping your blood off of their boots before stepping over your body to get to Tomas. 

“You’re doing it,” you find yourself saying. At this point, you’re gripping the cup tightly with both hands, the tips of your fingers paling from the sheer force you’re exerting.

“What?!” Tomas cries, exasperated you’re not on his side.

“You’re doing it,” you repeat. “Chrissake, Tomas, these are heroes who have saved the world. You’d think they would know a thing or two.”

Tomas huffs at you, crossing his arms defiantly across his chest. It kills you, bringing you back to moments in childhood where he would be told no to a shiny toy, or moments in adolescence where you told him he couldn’t stay out late. How small those moments feel now.

Your brother looks around the table, realizing he’s outnumbered. He mumbles his reluctant agreement as Bucky silently takes the cup from your vice grip. Feeling returns to your fingers, radiating throughout your body as you feel the slightest bit of relief. You’ll accept it, for now–you know it won’t last.

And so you find yourself straightening your back, trying to elongate your posture to match the two men in front of you.

“Absolutely not!” you tell them.

“Sis–,” Tomas begins, and you snap your hand up to quiet him.

“You’re training with Bucky nearly every damn day, and Sam, you’ve got him at your stupid therapy sessions–which you weren’t even in favor of, Tomas, need I remind you–this is so unnecessary–”

You slam your fork onto your plate, appetite gone.

“They’re not stupid,” mutters Sam, glancing at Bucky, who gives him an assuring shake of his head.

“He’s never been on a plane before,” you continue. “He’s barely even left the state–”

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” Sam insists. “I’ve never even seen Kamar-Taj before–”

“So what, my brother should feel so lucky?”

“I kinda do,” Tomas pipes up.

“Shut it,” you and Bucky pipe up. You shoot him a glare, and Bucky uses your theatrics as an opportunity to get a word in.

“He needs this,” he insists.

“And you know what’s best for him?” you spit, slamming your palms on the table and standing up.

“Apparently,” Bucky shoots back, lifting himself out of his seat. All your prior glowers have merely been practice for the look you give Bucky now. He seems completely unphased, meeting your eyes with an unnervingly calm stare. You’re ready to give him a piece of your mind, index finger pointed accusingly in his direction, but Tomas cuts in.

“I’m going,” he says. You laugh in disbelief, but he repeats himself in a tone you’ve never heard from him before.

“I’m going, sis,” he repeats sharply.

“And you don’t get to speak for me,” he continues, rising abruptly. “None of you do. None of you are my parents.

“And you never will be.”

Tomas’s final sentence hangs in the air. His face falters for a brief second, but he quickly regains his composure, stiffening up before stomping off to his room. You and the two heroes seem frozen until the door slams. Sam recovers first, shaking his head and glancing at the both of you with his eyebrows raised in sympathy, before heading in Tomas’s direction.

You and Bucky let the silence continue. It feels like the echo of Tomas’s slammed door is still bouncing within the walls of your mind. You step away from Bucky, turning your back to him.

“Hey–”

You flinch, though Bucky’s voice is barely a whisper. He reels at your fearful response.

“No. No,” you say, almost automatically, though you’re not sure exactly what you’re saying no to. Your hand is gripping the back of the couch, and Bucky thinks you’re about to inadvertently break off your own fingers. He wants to reach forward, peel your hand off, and shake some sense into you. Instead, he does the opposite, creating more distance between you and sinking back into the dining room chair.

“I was always in there,” he starts. He keeps his voice low. It sounds like gravel in your ears.

“I remember everything. I tried to stop. Every day for ninety years. I begged my body to listen, but it was like I was in the backseat. You know, even if your possessions burn up, even if the clothes off your back melt away, even if everyone you love leaves, you’ll always have you. But I didn’t even have me. It took nearly a century and almost killing my best friend to come back.”

He looks up at you, eyes searing with pain. 

“I look in the mirror, and I gotta be honest, sometimes I don’t know who it is staring back. So who was it that came back? And at what cost?”

He rips his gaze away from you, burning holes into his metal arm.

“I couldn’t stop my body. Because I didn’t have my mind.”

“Bucky–”

"Let him go to Kamar-Taj. Don’t take away that chance from him. The world doesn’t need another…me.”

You take a deep breath.

When Sam eventually coaxes Tomas out of his room, he’s surprised to hear lighthearted quips. Tomas looks sheepish, trying to shrink himself behind Sam.

You’re speaking to Bucky: “So I’m guessing this elusive Camatidge–”

“Kamar-Taj,” Bucky interrupts.

“–Kamar-Taj doesn’t have wifi? You can only communicate with some sort of spell?”

The relic looks to Sam, hoping to tap him in for the modern technology question.

“I actually hear their wifi is crazy fast,” Sam chuckles.

While Bucky and Sam step out to call Dr. Strange and confirm their attendance, you focus on tidying up the kitchen. Tomas joins you, rinsing grime off of the dishes so you can load them into the dishwasher.

“Mom will never be you,” he finally says. “In the same way that you’ll never be her. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He chuckles as he watches the water run down a plate. “You’re both insufferable in your own special ways.”

You shake your head, meeting his mirth with a laugh of your own.

“It’s true–imagine if I got mad at you for leaving the house without ironing your shirt,” you chuckle.

“Or imagine if Mom yelled at my lit teacher because I got a B instead of a B+,” he retorts.

“It’s not your fault he had a personal vendetta against the Oxford comma,” you say. “...She would be proud of us, wouldn’t she?”

He passes you a mug. He knows you better than he knows anyone, which means he fully understands that your choice to continue his training was for Mom, not for him or you. He sees the way you wince when his capoiera opponent lands a strike, how you’re instantly on your feet when he doesn’t land quite right off of the parallel bars. He’s grateful, knowing the alternative would be doing nothing at all, but he wonders how much you allow your mom’s perceived influence to affect your decisions.

“I think she would want us to be proud of ourselves, sis. That’s all she ever wanted.”

You stop to stare at your brother. Though the bar’s low, that is the wisest thing he has ever said. You take him in, his tall figure, his lean muscles, the nose that was always a dead giveaway that you two were related. For once, you don’t see the little kid in overalls with melted popsicle on his shirt. You don’t see a scraggly teen looking at you in disbelief as you hunch over a “How To Shave 101” YouTube video together. You see a powerful, strong man who has more ambition in his pinky finger than most people have in their whole bodies, who wants nothing more than to make the world a better place.

You and Tomas snap your heads towards the door, watching Captain America and the Winter Soldier re-enter your home.

“We’re all set,” Sam confirms. “Pack your bags, kid.”

You can feel Tomas’s excitement radiating beside you. He looks ready to take off before he realizes he has a sponge and bowl in his hands. You nod at him and he drops the items in the sink, running to his room and inadvertently splashing you with soapy water on the way.

Bucky takes his place, rinsing off the dish before handing it to you. Sam follows Tomas once more, realizing your brother probably doesn’t even know what to pack.

“You were wrong,” you say as he hands you the final piece of cutlery.

“Here we go,” he muses as he rinses off the sponge, completely unaware that your next words would take his breath away.

“The world could use a lot more of you.”

And so you find yourself biting the edge of your thumb, trying your best to focus on the book you had selected from your shelf without much thought. It was an ill attempt to escape from the reality that your brother was in a foreign country, in the hands of two people you had just met a couple of months prior.

“Stupid retreat,” you muttered, flipping the page as though you had any idea what you just read.

You pick up your phone for the umpteenth time in the past twenty-four hours Tomas has been gone. It’s like you’re stuck in time, picking up your phone with the same hope of a notification, then feeling bitter disappointment when it’s only your bare lock screen. A few minutes of fruitless distraction later, and you lift your phone again, restarting the cycle.

The stupid novel is doing a terrible job at distracting you, so you think of Sam and Bucky’s advice. They’ve said it an infinite amount of times at this point, but it can’t seem to get through your thick skull.

Tomas is an adult, not a child. You can’t keep him sheltered, protected for the rest of his life. You can’t keep him from all the evils of the world, even if he was just a normal kid. The best way to protect him is to equip him with those tools and skills instead of expecting him to rely on you.

It’s great advice. Wise words, definitely. Just a lot easier in theory than in execution.

“Fuck!” you hiss, your nervous nibbling finally drawing blood. You quickly rush to clean and dress your thumb in the bathroom. You freeze. Is that–?

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

You run like you’re in the Olympics, damn near throwing yourself over the back of the couch to grab your device before the call goes to voicemail.

“Tomas! How is it? Did you get there okay?”

“It’s…Bucky,” he says. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Bucky,” you say, massaging your temples. “No, no, thanks for calling. How was the trip?”

“Great. Couldn’t have gone smoother. I tried to wrangle the kid to make this call, but he’s stupefied by the people making sparkles with their fingers.”

You find yourself laughing. “No, okay, that’s good. I’m glad he’s having fun.” You press your lips together, wondering if you believe yourself. “But if my brother comes back through a portal, Barnes, I’m coming to you first.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles. You express your gratitude at his call and give your salutations.

Though you’re met with silence once again, it doesn’t hang as heavy.

And so you find yourself staring at the door. You sure as hell weren’t expecting company. With all the magic and supernatural in the world, maybe someone psychically divined that you really wanted a bowl of soup delivered to your doorstep. The past few days without Tomas have left you sleepless, and reprieve in the form of a comfort meal would be all too perfect.

Gingerly, you approach the door. Despite your hopes, you also acknowledge that the presence on the other side of your door could be dangerous. Fortunately, the brand new Stark security system can tell you who awaits beyond the wooden frame.

From the camera, Bucky adjusts the backpack clinging to his shoulder, waving a gloved hand at your camera. He’s back a few days early…without Sam or Tomas.

You fling the door open, and Bucky raises a hand to quell you before you’ve even started. You’ve never been on the receiving end of that before.

“He’s okay. I had to come back early to handle something.”

You stare at his muscular frame in your doorway. “Is that something me?” you question with a tilt of your head.

He furrows his eyebrows at your statement, then realizes the implication of his words.

“Oh, no–,” he begins, then pauses. “Just a quick check-in. Figured you were probably anxious and, I don’t know, rearranging the furniture for the seventh time.” He peeks over your shoulder jokingly, but you move to block him. His attempt at a jab was actually the truth, and you didn’t need him to know the dining table made a new home along the opposite wall.

You scratch your neck. “Even if it’s your mug I have to see,” you tell him, “I could use the company.” You step aside, beckoning him in.

He hesitates, and your eyes widen. He was expecting to make sure you were okay before retreating to his home across town.

You stammer, “Oh–sorry–you probably have places–”

“No–”

“–hero stuff–”

“I was just–”

“–shouldn’t have assumed–”

“Move,” he damn near barks. “Mug’s here to stay.”

You sit in silence for most of the night, save for your questions about Tomas, sitting on opposite ends of the couch and watching a silly slapstick comedy film. Though you can count on one hand how many words you speak to each other, you can’t deny the feeling of relief that washes over you.

In the morning, you wake up to sunlight filtering in from your living room window. You’re wrapped in a throw blanket, and you can feel the impressions your couch has left on your face. You’re groggy, and kind of confused.

But damn if that wasn’t the best sleep you’ve gotten all week.

As you pick up your phone to type out a mesasge, you wonder if it would be so bad to see if he could join you again.

Heyyy

Stop. Erase that now.

Free tonight?

What are you, a frat boy? Be serious.

I really appreciated you stopping by last night. I was wondering–

Is that bile rising in your throat? You would rather be the frat boy. You stare at the blinking cursor before opting to press the telephone icon in the corner instead.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hi.”

“I, um–”

“I was actually in the area. You hungry?”

Your teeth find your bottom lip.

“Starved.”

You and Bucky are hunched over the dining room table, picking at the array of food he has brought over. You’re not sure if he’s aware that he bought so much food that you can barely see the color of your dining table, but you don’t mind. You hum as you bring the cup of chicken noodle soup to your lips.

Eventually, you’re stuffed, and Bucky huffs in amusement.

“What?” you say, leaning back in the chair.

“You both do the same thing,” he comments, drawing a circle over his own face with his finger. “When you’re full.”

Your eyebrows flick upward in amusement before you absentmindedly start replacing the lids on the takeout containers. He tries to help, but you smack his hand away. Bucky scoffs, but relents, leaning back with his arms comfortably resting across his torso.

“So he’s doing okay?” you say.

This is probably the third time you’ve asked, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind.

“More than okay,” he says. “Fantastic.”

“That’s good. You all haven’t suffocated him like I have.”

He lets out a long exhale.

“You’re just trying to protect him.”

Your nervous fingers trace the edge of the table, having lidded every container on the table.

“So you don’t disagree.”

There it is. That squint again, like he’s coming to conclusions about you that will forever be a mystery.

“I hope…,” he starts off slowly, “wherever my sister is…she has someone like you. The big sibling I couldn’t be.”

Your eyes widen at the confession.

“Dining table looks awful over here, by the way.”

And so Bucky has made your couch a temporary home for a few days, at your timid request. He has no issue honoring it, more than happy to keep you company. He's through ruining people's lives, but he realizes his and Sam's presence has only seemed to make things more difficult for you. He has been anxious knowing you were anxious, and staying over helps him just as much as it helps you. Though it does cause concern for your little brother, who is surprised to throw the door open and see Bucky stationed at the stove.

If Sam feels the same shock, he is much better at hiding it. He simply throws his bag at his feet as he settles on the couch with a plop, complaining, “Kid fell asleep on me for both flights.”

“Both?” Bucky humors him, shuffling a spatula underneath an egg.

“That’s, like, twenty hours each, man. Couldn’t even watch Cars in peace.”

“Your shoulder is surprisingly comfy.” Tomas can’t miss a chance to get a quip in, though he’s busy scanning the apartment you share. He approaches the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that he’s sure used to be buried in the back of the linen closet. Sam glares at him, feeling the tug underneath his bum. “You’d think with all those lateral raises you do…”

“I’m glad you think so,” Sam says wryly.

Come to think of it, isn’t that the pillow from your room that’s now under Sam’s elbow? Tomas reaches for it–is that a strand of Bucky’s hair that he’s seeing? Sam shoots daggers at the man invading his personal space yet again.

“Tomas, can I help you?” the hero demands, turning around to deliver yet another glower to the younger man.

“Did I hear twenty hours?” you say, stepping out of your room. “Tomas, do we need to make a doctor’s appointment?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never felt better in my life,” Tomas responds, eyeing Bucky. He looks real cozy, setting four plates of breakfast down on the dining table. “Thanks…Bucky.”

“Yeah, thanks…Bucky,” you echo slowly as Tomas's perplexed eyes turn to you.

Over breakfast, your barrage of questions about Kamar-Taj finally quells the possibilities floating around Tomas's mind. He tells you about Dr. Strange and Wong, the mindfulness training he engaged in, the sorcerer trainings he observed, what his room looked like, how Sam snuck out one night to find pizza, how irksome airport security is, Kamar-Taj’s extensive library, how Bucky wouldn’t help him get the girl in 14C’s number, the protection spell Dr. Strange cast on him…

You let him go on, even when everyone’s plate is clear of food and the feelings of over-satiation subside. When he concludes his recollection with a deep breath of air, you reach over to grab his hand.

“I’m glad you had fun,” you say.

And you mean it.

Masterlist: {one} | {two} | {three}

A/N: next chapter takes a sharp turn ngl lol. excited for you to read it, thanks for reading!!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x Female Reader #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #Avengers #avengers fic #avengers fanfic #avengers fanfiction #avengers reader insert #marvel #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #kingsfics

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (21-22)

part 21 & 22 of ?? | 691 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

“If things start to go south, I mean at all,” Steve had said, looking directly at Eddie, “you abort. Okay?” Things start to go south, and Eddie cuts the rope.

Two chapters today, partly because they're both pretty short but mostly because this is the bit where I get to be cruel, but not so cruel that I leave it like this for more than a day. (There will be a happy ending, I promise.)

21.

“If things start to go south, I mean at all,” Steve had said, looking directly at Eddie, “you abort. Okay?”

-

Things start to go south, and Eddie cuts the rope. 

-

“Draw the attention of the bats. Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two.”

-

It’s been longer than that. But if Eddie doesn’t draw them away from the gate then those things are going to get out and go for Dustin, too. 

Dustin, who is screaming at him not to go. Too late to turn back now, though. 

-

“Don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just decoys.”

-

Eddie slams out the trailer door and scrambled for the nearest bike, careful not to let the butt of his spear catch in the spokes as he gets it up and moving. This is the stupidest, most suicidally insane thing he’s ever done. 

-

“Absolutely,” Eddie had replied. “I mean, look at us. We are nooot heroes.”

-

He remembers those words as he pedals for his life. But that he remembers after he falls, and fails to run, and turns to face the gathering swarm, is Dustin. 

Dustin asking about Wayne every once in a while, all serious, but brightening whenever there was good news. 

Steve talking about Dustin being upset, with a twinge in his own voice that suggests Steve wanted to fix it for the kid. Can’t bring back a dead dad, but keep a friend’s uncle from dying? Sure.

Dustin wanting him to think that Steve is a good guy now, and not even being wrong. 

For that little butthead, Eddie braces the butt of his spear and raises the last remaining shield—the one Dustin had made. He faces the bats with a scream.

22.

“I mean, look at us. We are nooot heroes.”

-

Steve is dead tired. His neck hurts even more than after the bats, to the point where talking hurts a bit. He wants to lay down and sleep for a week somewhere bright and cool and clean—or, barring that, at least somewhere quiet. 

Nothing is quiet right now, because Dustin is screaming and Eddie isn’t moving and none of it’s and Steve has to fix it. 

-

“We are nooot heroes.”

-

CPR. He still remembers how, from lifeguard training. 

God, there’s so much blood. It’s all over Eddie’s face and gets in Steve’s mouth, the worst parody of a first kiss. 

-

“Nooot heroes.”

-

He can’t run well. Not weighed down with Eddie in his arms, after how he’s been thrown around tonight, on so little sleep for so many days. He tries anyway, careful not to stumble on vines or the bodies of fallen bats, because they need all the time they can get. Eddie needs bandages and new blood and probably stitches—needs a hospital. 

“Steve,” Dustin wails, limping behind him supported on either side from Robin and Nancy. “Steve, is he going t-to. . . .”

“He’s not,” Steve calls back, so firmly that he can feel Robin’s eyes on his back as though she can see and judge all his secrets. 

-

“I mean.”

-

Getting through the gate is agony because it takes so goddamn long. But Nancy is right, they can’t risk making Eddie’s injuries any worse. It has to be done carefully.

-

“Look at us.”

-

Steve floors the accelerator on the RV. Beside him Dustin curls up tight in the passenger seat, stripped of his bloodied ghillie suit down to a hoodie and jeans, favoring his injured leg. Poor kid looks like he’s still trying to catch his breath. 

Eddie is laid out in the back with his belly and side chewed open all the way up to his left cheek while the girls try and apply tourniquets as best they can. 

This is Barb all over again. Not the blood, just—Eddie could go at any moment, and there’s nothing any of them would be able to do about it. 

The tremors in Steve’s hands are disguised by his tight grip on the wheel. He doesn’t tell anyone; no one else can drive this fucking boat, and if they’re not driving then Eddie dies. Steve can’t handle any more death on his hands. 

-

“We are nooot heroes.”

#angst with a happy ending #steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #(the memory of) barbara holland

[abarbaricyalp]

If Only In My Dreams

It's not Christmas anymore. To be fair, I had this dream on the 27th anyway Some SarahBucky Christmas chaos You can find this fic on AO3 here

It was well past two in the morning, but Sarah was nowhere near sleep. She could feel exhaustion swirling at the edges of her subconscious, but adrenaline, fear, and a fair bit of anger was keeping it at bay. It was Christmas Eve (Christmas Day now?), and instead of being at home, putting out her mama’s reindeer food with the boys and wrapping last minute gifts, they were all sequestered to the new Avengers Headquarters in DC. The building wasn’t even finished yet–there were no other heroes here–but the threat against Sam “and his family” was severe enough to land them here.

She was pretty certain the boys hadn’t realized how serious this was yet. Sam had the same voice their mama did when it came to pretending that things were fine when they were not. Sarah hadn’t inherited it. She developed her own as a parent, and she was sure the boys were slowly beginning to pick up on it the longer she used it. But they didn’t recognize Sam’s, so they believed him when he called this a ‘fun sleepover’ and a ‘secret mission’ instead. But Sarah had heard it. It had sent her heart roiling against her ribs and it hadn’t stopped since she’d answered the phone.

She hated this building. It was so industrial. There were few windows. By design, she supposed. The living quarters were small and bland. There were no colors, no soft spaces. Someone had put two beds into the same room for the boys to use. Someone–Sam or Bucky probably–had thought to grab their blankets and pillows from their rooms at home, but there were no other comforts for them.

Not that they seemed to notice. Someone–again, Sam or Bucky–had converted a meeting room into a movie theater with every other set of bedding in the compound, she thought, laid out on the floor to make a huge movie pit. They’d had full run of the place for the last few days and had charmed all of the extra security that had been assigned to Sam for this threat.

Sam stayed near her and Bucky stayed near the boys, which meant they were all usually in the same room. For the boys, she imagined this did feel almost completely right. All the important people were around them. They were baking and watching movies and concocting ridiculous games with indecipherable rules. 

Sarah, though, knew that tomorrow there’d be no presents, no tree, no reindeer prints on the front porch. The stockings were left over the fireplace, along with the CDs that always played all morning. There’d be no Christmas service and no community party afterwards. She knew it was ridiculous to worry about things like that when there was real danger, but it was Christmas. The boys deserved those things.

Behind her, someone pointedly knocked their knuckles on the doorframe and then came into the kitchen. Sarah looked up from the sugar cookie she was decorating and found Barnes making his way along the perimeter of the space, clearly counting cabinets as he went. He was barely dressed down for bed, in a t-shirt and athletic shorts, rather than the half-done gear he’d been wearing during the day. She imagined he only wasn’t fully done up because he was entertaining the boys, rather than standing sentinel. Still, he looked terribly real like this. It brought some of the comfort of home to this sterile place. She’d woken many mornings to find him halfway through cooking breakfast in an outfit very similar to this. Usually he was barefoot at home, but the even the sneakers he wore now weren’t his typical ready-to-go-boots. 

He finally stopped in front of a cabinet and opened it to reveal rows of blank white mugs. He took down one of a handful that didn’t match–a huge blue thing with the Captain America shield on it–and then set about getting an electric kettle going and tearing open a hot chocolate packet.

“Sam said you were practically nocturnal, but I didn’t believe him ‘cause you sleep like the dead at my house,” Sarah greeted as she went back to the cookie she was decorating.

Bucky snorted. “Sam only says that ‘cause I’m better at napping than him. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know you were up too. I mean, I thought you might be when the door was open but…”

The kettle turned on and Bucky came to sit in the chair next to the one Sarah was sitting in at the head of the table. In front of her, four pans of sugar cookies sat with various degrees of decorating completion done on them. Most of them were simple. Stars and trees and stockings. But Sarah had created royal icing and found, of all things, a piping set. The decorations were elaborate and lovely. Also kind of boring to do over and over again. She kept jumping to the next shape to keep her mind and hands occupied.

“These are like the videos Sam’s always watching online. This is great. I didn’t know you could do this,” Bucky complimented. He reached out for a Santa hat and traced the seams of the icing colors.

“My college roommate was a baker,” Sarah explained. She’d had to take a deep breath, center herself back to someone pleasant and accommodating, rather than scared and scatterbrained and feeling particularly solitary. Bucky, of all people, would understand, but Sarah still wouldn’t take the risk, wouldn’t put all of that one the man trying to keep them safe. “I spent a lot of time helping her decorate. She’s got a whole confectionary shop in New Orleans now. It’s amazing. The best beignets I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, Sam said you knew what you were talking about when it came to sweets. I couldn’t just bake my way out of the doghouse.”

Sarah chuckled softly. “Now I can say, Sam only said that ‘cause you can absolutely bake your way out of his doghouse. Boy’s got about 32 sweet tooths.”

“Yeah, I noticed that in his coffee order,” Bucky agreed. He fell quiet again, watching her studiously.

Barnes was something else. From what she’d seen of him, there was nothing to complain about. He was helpful and kind, fiercely loyal and protective. The boys, Sam included, had taken a shine to him that probably would never tarnish. He was handsome and charming in a way that made her stomach get kind of swoopy sometimes like it hadn’t in a while. And she wasn’t blind. She had seen him trip over all his suaveness in an attempt to impress her too. She’d seen him blush when she caught him staring. And she caught him quite a lot. His stare was easy to feel on her.

At the same time, she knew about his history. Sam had told her quite a bit and then Bucky had sat her down as well, before he’d moved to Louisiana himself. The conversation had taken days as he recounted terrible things that he’d done and that had been done to him. She’d read what she could, tried to remember all those news stories from 2014, but she’d mostly been so angry and worried about Sam at the time that she hadn’t paid much attention to the other actors in the whole spectacle.

She tried to find the threads connecting that man to the one beside her now. It was something she did often. But they were expertly tucked into seams and embroidered over. No more puppet strings. No more leashes. Just the foundation strands he’d built upon.

“I’m sorry about all this,” he said suddenly.

Sarah glanced up at him from where she was dotting lights onto a tree. “Did you call in the threat?” she humored.

Bucky ducked his head and then shook it. “Nah, I just mean taking you away from home and all. These things happen all the time.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Bucky blushed deeply. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean…I don’t want you to worry. You’re safe here. We’ll get this taken care of.”

“I know,” she said and let her own doubt into her voice. She finished the lights on the cookie and then looked at him again. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you part of the team trynna find the guy threatening Sam?”

Bucky looked surprised for a moment. “Sam wanted me here. He gets antsy when I have the chance to make a bad decision. There was this woman a few weeks ago who–” He clicked his teeth together with an audible snap and glanced at her apologetically, though he hadn’t gotten to the bad part yet. “Uh, well, anyway. I just don’t like people messing with him. Or any of you guys. And with the kids and you here, we thought it was best if we both stayed.” He was quiet for another second and then added, “I am helping. Going through the data. Directing teams.”

“Strike Team Winter Soldier?” Sarah teased softly.

“Ha! That would be a great name for a team. You’re a natural at this. Let me see about getting you a job with us.” He smiled his dazzling smile and Sarah had to look back to the cookies she was decorating.

It was different than the way the butcher down on Main would wink at her as he air-boxed with Cass and complimented her outfit, no matter how messy she was. Different than Carlos’ shameless flirting when he wanted some free fish. Something about the way Bucky smiled at her, like the way he looked at her, warmed her straight down to the soul. There was no pretense, no hiding, no airs.

Which was to say nothing of the way he hugged her too. The world could stop spinning during those hugs.

Even just his presence in this ridiculous cutting-edge, bland, silver kitchen had warmed the space more than the oven running for hours as she baked.

Just for now, she was going to put away the fear and anger and worry. She was going to set aside all the things they weren’t getting this year. She wasn’t going to think about her house and its lights and the tree in the window. She was just going to enjoy a few minutes with a handsome man who liked her so blatantly it made her go lightheaded.

“Nah, I couldn’t work with you,” she said flippantly, even as her stomach somersaulted. “You’d be too distracting.”

“Oh, would I?” Bucky asked and raised an eyebrow. He scooted his chair closer in some slick move that meant his hands never left the table as he moved them closer to hers. His long fingers trailed over hers until he could coax the icing bag from her grip, and then he pressed her open palm to his, held his other hand over hers. “How could I possibly be that distracting?”

Sarah turned her hand over between his and traced the inside of his wrist. His metal hand was beneath hers, so his pulse fluttered against her touch now. Nothing, other than a hitch in the base of his neck, gave away the tripping of his pulse. He kept his face smooth and amused and endeared.

“Well, take tonight for example,” she said. He hummed encouragingly. “I was here, working away, and you showed up and literally took things out of my hands.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” he apologized dramatically and made as if he was going to get up.

Sarah curled her fingers around his wrist to keep him still. His pulse jumped again as he settled back into the seat. “And I think you’d be very serious at work.” He tilted his head at her. “So I might spend a lot of time trying to make you smile.”

A small, shy smile came out then, like it was summoned. “And why would you do that?”

“I like your smile,” she admitted. “I think you should do it more often.”

“Even at work?” Bucky asked. “That’s hardly fair, Ms. Wilson. I like your smile too but I don’t think you do it at work very often either.”

“Well, maybe you’d need to figure out how to make me smile too,” she suggested.

“So we’d both be distracted.”

Sarah inclined her head now. “Maybe we would. So it would be a terrible idea for me to work with you.”

Bucky’s pulse, which had leveled out at a steady gallop, surged beneath her fingers. “I don’t mind being distracted. Not if it’s you distracting me.”

Of all the corny lines Sarah had ever heard, there was something about the sincerity in Barnes’ voice that made that one one of the best. “Maybe I don’t like being distracted.”

“It wouldn’t actually be a problem,” Bucky promised. “See, if you’re worried that you’ll be too busy thinking about how to make me smile, all you gotta do is come into my eyesight. I’ll smile right away for you.”

“Well, now,” Sarah said, refusing to let all of the emotions trying to make her lovesick win out, “that makes its own problem.”

“Oh, what is it now?” Bucky moaned dramatically.

Sarah stifled a laugh against her shoulder. She pressed the pads of her fingers closer to his skin, traced along the pale blue vein on his forearm to his elbow. He moved closer like she was reeling him in. “If you smiled too much around me, then I’d want you to do something else too.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked. “Name it. I’ll do it. Anything to keep you distraction free.”

“No, this would be a pretty big distraction,” she said. Bucky, several steps ahead of her, was also swaying in towards her. She took another moment to enjoy the warmth of his arm before she pulled away entirely, leaning back in her chair and bringing her hand with her. Bucky deflated as soon as she wasn’t touching him. “So I wouldn't be able to work with you.”

Even pouting, he still looked smitten. “Ma’am, you were just the distracting one.”

Sarah laughed and shook her head. “Another reason to keep us apart during the work day. Case-in-point, your kettle’s been done for at least five minutes.”

Bucky startled a little, glancing over his shoulder at the electrical kettle, which had switched to its ‘warm’ setting and was condensating on the inside. “You want some chocolate?” he asked as he stood.

Because she was still not thinking about how terrible these few days were, she said yes and pointed to a Wilson Family Seafood mug in the cupboard. He made the hot chocolates in record time and came to sit knee-to-knee with her again.

“How did you possibly extricate yourself from the cuddle puddle the boys had you in?” she asked as she waited for her drink to cool down.

“Have I mentioned I’m an expert spy?” Bucky asked with a teasing grin. “I can get outta most places without being noticed.”

“Nah, I saw the way AJ was clinging onto your arm. I’m surprised you didn’t just take it off and leave him with it.”

Bucky laughed with his head thrown back. Sarah’s whole core warmed, from her stomach to her chest. “Now, why can’t I ever think of doing something like that?”

“Work smarter not harder, Barnes.”

Bucky grinned and drank his hot chocolate because apparently being a super soldier gave him super heat resistance. “Well, I have to admit, I didn’t come straight out here,” he confessed. “There were a few things I wanted to do first. Could I show you? It’s just in the common room.”

Sarah couldn’t imagine anything that Bucky had needed to do in the common room would have any bearing on her, except maybe if he’d actually fixed the TV so the boys didn’t have full control of the one working one in the compound. But she picked up the mug of hot chocolate and followed after him.

The common room was bathed in a warm light from the one lamp in the corner. The overhead fluorescents were off. And there Christmas lights tacked up to the wall. It transformed the entire space from something cold and foreign to a warm welcome. Beneath the lights, there were a pile of gifts.

“Are those…” Sarah started to ask, though she knew the answer. She knew what wrapping paper she’d bought for this year. She knew the sizes of the boxes.

Bucky shifted a little nervously next to her. “Yeah. When I went back to secure the house, I found them. I figured you’d want them.”

The stack looked more like a mirage, a dream, than something real. She kept expecting them to disappear when she blinked. Suddenly, all the roiling emotions that had kept her company for the past several days turned over onto their heads. She was almost so happy and grateful that it was starting to circle back around to tears.

“I, uh, had to wrap a few. I’m really not any good at it. But hopefully the kids won’t even notice,” he continued to explain in embarrassed little starts and stops when she didn’t immediately respond. “You shoulda seen the guys making fun of me on the ride back. Taped my thumb down at one point.”

Sarah reached for his hand quickly, curled her fingers around his and tugged him close to hug him tightly. “You did this for them?”

Bucky didn’t hesitate to hug her back. He held her tighter when she started to shake with emotion and rubbed her back in soothing, grounding motions. His cheek rested on the crown of her head. “Of course I did. For you too, Sarah. You’ve gotta know it was for you too.”

She pressed her face to his neck and collarbone, took in a deep breath of his clean, sharp smell beneath generic laundry detergent.  “Thank you,” she breathed and squeezed her eyes shut.

“You don’t gotta thank me for anything. This is still part of the apology. You should be at home. I just wanted to bring a little bit of home back for you.”

Sarah was still too overcome to say anything, so she just held him tighter. It wasn’t until his palm found its way to her cheek that she finally lifted her face to look at him again. In the dim lights, his blue eyes were practically sparkling, like he was some kind of Christmas card come to life.

“Hey, I got you something too. Figured it’s already Christmas, right?” He pulled a light colored jewelry box from the coffee table beside them and offered it to her. “I don’t know what makes this artisan jewelry, but I’m pretty sure these are the charms you wanted.”

The necklace had a sunflower and a butterfly charm hung on it, with a dainty stone bead between them. They were, in fact, two of the charms that she’d mentioned passingly when the catalog had come in the mail months ago. There was also a ring in the box with three hearts–one big and two little–tumbling across the band.

“Bucky,” she started to say, looking up at him. “This is–”

His hand was on her cheek again–he really did have the longest fingers she’d ever seen–and suddenly they were falling together. She’d never have really thought about the scant inches of difference between her and Bucky’s height, but now, as he dipped his face towards hers and she felt the girlish need to tiptoe up, it was all she could think about.

Bucky was as good at kissing as he was at hugging. His mouth was softer than she had imagined it would be. Not that she did a lot of imagining about Bucky’s mouth, of course. He also leaned into her like he wanted to become the thing that kept her upright, held her face preciously, swooped his thumb over her cheekbone. It all made her lightheaded. She had to place her hands on his chest to stay standing. Otherwise she might just pitch right into him and melt between his ribs.

Somehow, a stuttered breath escaped her lips and Bucky pulled back just enough to brush their noses together. Still, she could see his wide eyes and worried expression.

“Sorry, I forget I don’t have to breathe the same–”

Sarah leaned up to kiss him quiet. He made a pleased, shocked little noise into her mouth, but easily kissed her again. “I was right,” she said when she was sure he wasn’t going to argue again. “You are distracting.”

Bucky grinned and shook his head, dark hair falling into his face. “No, I was right. You’re the distracting one. I don’t know how I’m gonna do anything else again now that I know what that feels like.”

“You better figure it out, ‘cause I need you to put this necklace on.”

Bucky preened and jolted into action, taking the box from her hands and freeing the necklace. He offered the ring out without trying to put it on her finger for her. Then he brushed aside her braids, trailed his fingers over her bare neck, leaned down to kiss some number of her vertebrae reverently, making goosebumps erupt over her skin and a heavy flush follow after his lips. He pulled away after a moment, when her fingers had found his wrist again, and he carefully clipped the necklace in place. He smoothed the chain down over her collarbones, to the top of her sternum before remembering his manners and going no further.

“It suits you,” he said when she turned to face him again, eyes bright. He brushed his thumb over the chain where it sat against the curve of her neck, his hand resting high up on her shoulder, ready to go to her cheek again, pull her close once more, kiss her senseless all over again.

She reached up to touch the charms gently and smiled shyly. “Thank you, Bucky,” she said softly. “This means so much. Especially now.”

“You deserve the world, Sarah,” Bucky said earnestly, shifting his hand just enough to brush his thumb over her cheek. He took a half step closer to her. “Every happiness and beautiful things and joyful Christmases.”

Sarah finished crossing the distance between them and draped her arms around his neck. “Well, superhero, you might’ve just managed to save this one.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about, Ms. Wilson,” he teased, leaning down until his mouth was almost against hers. “This is the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time.”

“How’re you gonna beat it next year?” she wondered, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of his body against hers.

“Oh, you want me around next year too, huh? Already got plans?”

“So many plans, Barnes.”

He hugged his arms around her waist and nodded. “I’m all yours,” he promised.

And they kissed again.

If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a kudos on AO3 here!

#sarahbucky #fleurdelouve #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier

[heartsandmuses]

Hi!! You reblogged my stony fandom post so *Oprah voice* you get an ask!!

Tell me:

When you first started shipping stony and why

Why do you love Steve Rogers

Three stony fics you read recently and why you enjoyed them

ahhh thank you!! <3

when you first started shipping stony and why:

I remember coming into the mcu fandom after catws, so the first movie I actually saw steve and tony in together was aou - which, honestly, for all that can be said about that movie, it did give us some great stevetony moments! the scenes at clint’s farmhouse in particular stood out to me, and that’s what inspired me to write my first stevetony fic ever (which I will sneakily link here!)

why do you love steve rogers:

steve!! he was really the first mcu character that I fell in love with – he’s sweet and kind, but also fierce and brave, and he just has so much heart. like erskine said, he's a good man – but he’s also a good leader, a good friend, a good tactician, a good hero… he just has a lot of goodness in him.

plus, we get to see so many different sides to him (sweet and awkward steve, lost and depressed steve, competent badass steve, etc) which makes him extra fun to play around with!

three stony fics you read recently and why you enjoyed them:

annex 11 by soliloquent // @soliloquent-stark

this fic is so creative, so clever, and so well-written! it’s such a cool new take on the typical mission fic, being written in the form of a SHIELD report, and the dialogue (and miscommunication) between steve and tony is so true to their characters. it's short and sweet and such a fun read!

cliffhanger by sineala // @sineala

the suspense, the hurt/comfort, the absolute trust between steve and tony… this is so well-executed, the build-up of tension kept me on the edge of my seat the whole time! another short fic, but it really packs a punch!

powerless by mireille

I absolutely adore de-serumed steve fics, and this one has the perfect combination of feels and fluff! steve’s insecurity shines through so well, and so does tony’s thoughtfulness and worry and care as he tries to help him with the situation. I just love the comfort and tenderness between the two of them!  

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #otp: put on the suit #fic recs #fics #amy talks #asks #crownofstardustandbone

[skyward-floored]

*pokes you* got any Hyrule angst?

- hero-of-the-wolf

I have... quite a bit of Hyrule angst 😅 mostly IAU lol. I’ll just pick a random one since I’ve got a bunch uhhhhhhh okay. I have some short things that might end up in the fic where Sky goes missing, focused on each of the boys, but the one with Hyrule and Legend has the most to it so far. Here’s a bit of it :)

“So... what happened?” Legend asked, unable to quell his curiosity.

Hyrule didn’t reply for a moment, looking at the house’s remains. Then he lowered his head with a sigh, drawing his knees up to his chest.

“I don’t really know. Dad says an electric pole got knocked over by the blizzard I was taking shelter from and set the house on fire, but I didn’t realize at the time.”

Legend stared at him in disbelief, but Hyrule kept going.

“I was asleep and heard the noise, but it hadn’t hit where I was, and I didn’t worry about it and fell back asleep. I finally woke up smelling smoke, but at that point there were flames everywhere, and I was... too scared to move.

“I don’t know how long I hid under the table I found, Shielding myself from everything,” he said in a low voice. “Dad came inside at some point to get me out because Sky saw me when he flew by, but he was using his powers full-force, and I was scared of him.”

Legend stared at him, then bit back a jealous remark, aware it wouldn’t be helpful. He’d never seen his Dad use his powers to that extent.

It must have been bad.

“So how did you get out?” he asked instead.

“Well the roof was falling in,” Hyrule said as he looked out at the debris. “I realized it was go or stay there and... well, probably not make it, so I went. Dad picked me up and got me out, and we joined up with... Sky.”

Hyrule breathed in, a little shakily, and Legend scooted up next to him so their legs were touching. His brother gave him a grateful look, then swallowed and continued.

#answers from the floor #lovely hero of the wolf #wip #poor guys :( #looking for this I realized I also have a lot of Wild angst that’s been languishing for... a while #I seriously need to finish some of this stuff bjhddjbkfdhvdy

[dindjarinandlysakane]

The Sweetest Taste | Chapter 6 - Bruises

Din Djarin is happy on Nevarro. He has a home, a family, what more could he want? But when a woman turns up selling bread and cakes at his doorstep, how can he not fall in love? And how can he also stop her from getting hurt at the hands of her partner behind closed doors? Will the hero save the girl and get the girl? Warm and sweet fluff/romance/hurt/comfort fic.

Masterlist

Chapter 6

----

Din watched as Lysa weaved easily between the stalls, buying ingredients here and there. Even bartering lightheartedly with the vendors.

At points she would turn to Din, who was lingering near to her, talking him through some of the rarer items being sold.

“Has Grogu tried these purple pears?” she said now, gracing him with a kind smile and holding out a curved purple fruit.

At her words, the Mandalorian gave a shake of his head. “I’m not sure,” he murmured.

Din knew that his son had lived for fifty years before meeting him. He was certain there were a lot of things he had or hadn’t done in that time, but none of that Din particularly wanted to dwell on.

Perhaps sensing his unease with the question, Lysa offered him a lingering look before turning back to the Snivvian stall holder.

“I’ll take eight of those,” she said gently, her eyes scanning over the fruit before her, pointing her finger at each item in turn. “And I’ll take…..six of the Giva and three punnets of the tufted mushberries.”

Item by item, the stall holder handed over the fruit which Lysa carefully placed into her basket. Before she extracted a handful of credits and held them out for the Snivvian.

But as she did so, the sleeve of her tunic slipped a little, revealing a large and nasty looking bright purple bruise on her forearm. It was blotchy and looked stark against her smooth skin.

Din instantly frowned.

He watched as Lysa thanked the stall holder before turning back to the Mandalorian, but her smile faltered as she saw him looking directly at her.

“What?” she asked curiously, her eyes roving across his beskar helmet.

Din allowed her to reach him before he turned, walking away with her at his side once again.

“Where’d you get a bruise like that?” he said before he could stop himself, pointing his gloved hand towards her now-covered forearm.

Din had been injured more times than he could count and knew what it was like to wake up with mark like that across his bruised limbs. Something that looked as bad as that did, you didn’t just get from bumping it on a counter.

But beside him he felt Lysa visibly stop in her tracks. Din turned to her just in time to see her eyes widen and her cheeks turn white.

But he was lucky to have caught it, for within less than a second Lysa had righted herself. As though a veil had fallen down over her features, shielding her visible emotions to the world- similar to what Din’s helmet did for him.

“Oh this thing?,” she said brightly, tapping her finger over her sleeve, but she made no move to uncover the bruise again. “Oh it’s nothing. I just knocked it getting out of the speeder yesterday.”

Din frowned, narrowing his eyes in her direction.

The Mandalorian had interrogated many people during his lifetime. He knew when someone was lying.

But was it his place to argue with her?

Din knew that at this stage he valued his friendship with her too much to question her.

That was what this was, wasn’t it? A friendship?

And so Din remained silent. Not saying another word on the subject.

For a moment he felt Lysa glance towards him as they walked away from the hustle and bustle of the busy Bazaar.

“Din, I-“

But before Lysa could say another word, she was roughly shoved aside by a man running past, arms laden full of trinkets from a nearby stall.

“HEY, COME BACK HERE!” came the gruff voice of the Weequay market vendor, pointing at the man. “THIEF!”

The short, red-haired thief was indeed quick. Despite being loaded with stolen goods he was at the corner of the street in a matter of seconds.

But unfortunately for him, Din was quicker. And in an instant, the Mandalorian had thrown out his fibercord whip and hooked the human thief around the ankles.

The man immediately toppled to the ground, spilling the items of precious metal in his arms, all over the ground.

Giving a grunt, Din strolled over to the man, who was face down on the ground, spluttering in the dusty dirt, and placed his boot flat to his back, pinning him down.

But Din didn’t even have to do anything more, for he turned his head to hear a screeching siren and a shiny landspeeder gliding it’s way into the marketplace, parting the crowd as it went.

It came to a halt just a couple of feet away from him, with the new Marshal and two of the city’s peacekeepers, clutching guns, quickly exiting the ship and surrounding them.

“We can take it from here,” came the robotic, yet familiar voice, of IG-11, as Din backed away, retracting his whip as the men grabbed the thief, hauling him to his feet and cuffing him.

He watched as the Marshal went over to speak to the market vendor, just as Lysa appeared at Din’s side, leaning in close.

“Actually maybe I will need that chaperone after all,” she said in a carrying whisper, her teasing eyes meeting with his, behind his beskar helmet.

Din’s lips twitched up into a grin.

Ten minutes later and the pair were strolling together through the North of the city, heading towards Lysa’s home. The sun was already way down below the horizon line, the streets awash in a golden shadowy glow.

Din knew that Nevarro was a bright and upcoming place to live, now becoming somewhat of a hub for travellers and settlers alike. But it was things like what had happened back at the marketplace, that reminded him that things had not changed that much.

Neighbourhoods like this still were privy to great poverty. And sinister goings on we’re still happening on these street corners and behind these rusted closed doors.

But despite living here, amongst all that, Lysa seemed to him, a light within all that darkness.

She was kind, smart, and brightened every space she seemed to be present in. Well, to Din at least.

He still hadn't forgotten their conversation just before the thief had disturbed them. But maybe he had been wrong. Maybe the mark on Lysa’s forearm had been caused by getting out of her speeder.

He knew that he needed to trust her. She certainly trusted him.

It was obvious from the looks Din had been getting in this part of town, that Mandalorians were NOT popular around here. Din being no exception.

But Lysa didn’t seem to care.

In fact she was more than happy to talk to Din, ignoring the looks they were getting from passers by.

“And so that’s how I left Coruscant,” she said smiling up at Din, swinging her basket easily from her hand as she walked. “And I was certainly poorer than when I arrived there, that was for sure!”

Din gave an easy chuckle.

Right now he felt more at peace than he had in a long time. Why did it feel so easy? Talking to Lysa like this? Just walking with her, at her side. Listening to her self-deprecating stories.

She sighed sweetly, staring ahead once more.

“Sorry…I talk a lot when I’m nervous,” she said in a kindly voice.

A frown line twitched it’s way between Din’s brows.

But as though catching his concealed expression, Lysa gave a small laugh, shaking her head.

“I don’t mean-“ she began. “I’m not nervous around you, I just-“

Din caught her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink.

She turned away smiling.

But Din’s eyes lingered on her face just that little bit longer.

Was he crazy to want this to go on forever? Just the two of them, talking this way?

But before they could carry on, Lysa came to a stop,  turning to him.

“Well here’s my place,” she said gently, her face painted with a graceful smile. “Thank you for walking with me. It was good to have some company for once.”

They stood on her dingy little street, having come upon her front door quicker than Din would have liked.

His heart thrummed a beat.

He wanted to tell her that he would be happy to walk with her anywhere, anytime. But he was not the kind of man to say something like that. Let alone to someone he barely knew, like Lysa.

He kicked himself for his internal anguish when it came to revealing his true feelings to someone. Too much time being raised amongst Mandalorians who never showed their faces, or their emotions either.

“No problem,” he said curtly.

Lysa stared at him for a long moment, that smile still lighting her entire face. And for a second it looked as though she was going to say something else. 

But before she could do so, the door to her right slid open…

…only reveal Crix Val’shif stood on the other side.

He was wearing a black tunic, his salt and pepper hair slicked back to match, with a dark scowl plastered across his narrow features.

Almost instantly Lysa’s smile vanished.

“Crix-“ she said quickly, as the man’s eyes flickered between her and Din, and back again. 

But not even acknowledging Din, Crix stepped out onto the porch, turning his back to the Mandalorian and stepping in front of Lysa.

Din bristled, clenching his jaw hard.

“An’ where have you been?” Crix spat, his nostrils flaring. “You said you’d have dinner on the table by sundown. I was supposed be at the Cantina already. And now because of you, I’m gonna be late.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise the time-“ Lysa replied in a hushed voice. Din could barely see her face over Crix’s shoulder, but could hear that she sounded full of worry. A lifetime away from the happy tone she had had not five minutes before.

Was it wrong for Din to hate this man? Crix? For he could tell instantly that he was trouble.

But obviously not appreciating Lysa’s reply, as quick as a flash, Crix grabbed her forearm hard, tugging her towards him roughly. The forearm which was already painted with a blue and purple mark.

At seeing this, the Mandalorian gave an instant growl beneath his breath.

But not paying any attention to Din, Crix jabbed a finger from his free hand skyward.

“You didn’t realise the time, huh? How about you look up at the damn sun next time,” Crix hissed into Lysa’s face. “Inside.”

And with that, he gave the blonde woman a hard tug, dragging her in through the doorway roughly.

Too roughly.

In an instant Din saw red.

He grabbed Crix by his upper arm, hauling him around to face him.

Din didn’t draw his weapon, and yet he was so angered by the way Crix had spoken and touched Lysa, he wanted to tear him apart with only his gloved hands.

But the thug’s face was immediately a picture of fury.

“Did you just lay your hands on me, Mandalorian?”

From behind Crix, Din noticed Lysa staring between the two men, looking horrified.

“Din, it’s ok, really it’s fine,” she said, her marsh-coloured eyes pleading with him.

She was breathing hard, her entire face white as a sheet.

For a moment, Din relinquished his grip on Crix’ shoulder, and the shorter man took his opportunity, tugging his arm from the Mandalorian’s grasp.

He turned to Lysa.

“I told you….inside,” he spat, pointing at her, as Lysa disappeared inside the house.

Din had dealt with situations like this many times over. With many people worse than Crix over the years.

And yet something about this situation had thrown him.

Perhaps it was knowing that Lysa was right there through the door, having asked, no pleaded, with him not to hurt her partner.

Crix suddenly turned back to Din, rounding on him.

He was an inch shorter than Din and yet stood nose to nose with him now, baring his uneven teeth.

“You ever touch me again, then me and my friends are gonna have to pay you a little visit,” he hissed in a threatening tone. “Don’t think I don’t know where you and your kid live.”

And with that, Crix Val’shif stepped back and hit the buzzer, causing the door to slide shut in Din’s beskar-covered face.

----

Please let me know if you like it! What do you think so far?

#din x reader #din djarin oc #din fluff #din djarin fluff #mando reader #mando oc #din oc #din x oc #din djarin imagine #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #mando fic #mandalorian fanfic #the mandolorian #the mandalorian #din imagine #din djarin