themarshmallownerd

[themarshmallownerd]

New Chapter: The End and the Beginning

Link: Chapter 4

Previous: Chapter 3

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: At long last, this mammoth has reached its end. Now I can officially retire in peace (after I tend to the other WIPs I have lol). But this AU was one I had been wanting to do for so long, and these characters and their lore truly was the perfect cast to finally bring it to life. So a big thank you to everyone for coming on this journey with me ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Special thanks in order to @i-write-shakespeare-not-disney for the idea to add an epilogue! ily ❤️❤️❤️

Preview: Given such a deteriorating state, it was a surprise when Lottie suddenly stopped in her tracks. Somehow, she even managed to stall Natalie alongside her, effectively startling the barmaid out of her determined pace when she realized Lottie’s arm was no longer around her.

“Love? What is it?” Natalie fretted. 

At first, Lottie gave no answer. She’d become stock-still, frozen like a star that had solidified in the heavens. The only source of life in her was the troubled wrinkle that slowly stitched itself into her brow the longer she stared at the desolate shack awaiting them.

“I…I don’t know,” the princess murmured eventually. “I just got this…bad feeling, all of a sudden.”

Natalie followed her gaze, trying to see for herself if anything looked amiss. As far as she could see, there was only the sole household sitting in Razia’s shadow. Overhead, some of the crows that had been watching them from the trees started to take flight, gliding towards that very structure. 

The longer she spent simply standing there, the more Natalie could detect that there was something distinctly…wrong with the air on this side of the valley. It felt warmer than the usual climate of the Dark Lands had ever been. Although, it wasn’t warm in the comforting sense that the organic heat from the sun provided. Rather, it was stuffy and uncomfortable, prickling against her skin like the static that typically filled the air when a bolt of lightning was about to strike. 

“It might be that witch magic Van was talking about,” Natalie suggested. 

“No, it’s not that.” Lottie gave a minute shake of her head. “It’s more like…like I’ve seen this place before. In a dream. An awful, awful dream…”

Natalie didn’t know what to do with that. Honestly, she had always been of the school of thought that dreams didn’t mean anything. So, she had never been this rattled by one. 

As far as Nat was concerned, their current situation was still of the utmost urgency. They couldn’t afford to have this much pause, especially for something as mundane as a dream Lottie barely seemed able to remember now. 

The barmaid reached a hand out to cradle Lottie’s palm. “Hey,” she prompted, urging Lottie to look at her instead of the horizon. “We came all this way for a reason. We need that medicine. So…let’s at least see what the witch has to say, yes?”

Lottie glanced back at the shack, her brow still furrowed in distress. Though this time, her hesitation only lasted a couple of heartbeats. 

“Right…” she muttered in agreement. 

She shook her head once more. Then, she continued walking, keeping her hand fixed securely around Natalie’s. 

They were nearly upon the dwelling when Lottie’s energy started to drain out of her again. Her body shivered violently, despite still radiating a feverish heat. Natalie tucked her body back into the princess’s side, taking the majority of her weight from her again. 

As she dragged their bodies forward as quickly as she could, she noticed the murder of crows that had been following them start to congregate along the roof and the front porch of the witch’s shanty. A few of the bolder birds hunched their backs and fluffed their feathers up in a show of intimidation. A sign of protectiveness for the dwelling. Or perhaps a warning to steer clear of the inhabitant inside. 

Either way, the two travelers couldn’t afford to heed the sign to turn back. 

Natalie reached the porch step first, gently shooing away the crow there with the toe of her boot. As soon as she helped Lottie up onto the porch with her, the front door of the dwelling suddenly opened before them, the weathered wooden boards creaking slightly. 

No one was on the other side of the door. 

Natalie leaned forward, only letting her head cross the threshold of the door as she affirmed that it had truly opened on its own. “Hello?” she said cautiously.

She was greeted by a dozen mirror images of herself on the adjacent wall, trapped in the colorful panels on the one glass wall. The small amount of sunlight that managed to peek around the mountainside streamed through the brightly-colored panels, casting an array of matching multi-colored shadows onto the floor of the entryway. 

The glass wall seemed to be the main source of light for the shack’s interior, aided only by a couple of candles burning on the small, square table tucked against the rear-side wall. The table—much like the shelves running along the wall above it—was cluttered with an array of random trinkets and objects. Things like thick, leather-bound journals, bundles of herbs tied with string, a bowl with strange symbols painted along the side, vials containing bug corpses, and dozens upon dozens of loose, discarded black feathers. 

There was a long, thick curtain running along the fourth and final wall, keeping that portion of the shack hidden from view. Given how puny the overall dwelling was, any hope that the witch doctor was truly here resided in the notion that she was somewhere behind that. 

Natalie stepped fully inside the structure, carefully tugging Lottie inside after her. The princess followed her listlessly, now too drained of energy to focus on anything other than keeping her own head up. To anyone else, it would seem as though she were starting to nod off to sleep.

“No! No, no, no,” Natalie said frantically. In her panic, she grabbed the princess’s face roughly, urging Lottie to keep her eyes on her. Or at the very least, keep her eyes open. “Stay with me, love. We’re right here. Just hold on.”

Lottie only managed to groan in response, regarding Nat with eyes that were half-lidded and glazed over. 

They were running out of time. 

“Help!” the barmaid called into the open air of the shanty. “Please! We need the witch!”

At the last word, one of the birds from the front porch suddenly flew inside, his wings fanning the collection of dirt that had gathered along the rafters overhead. He perched himself on one of the beams supporting the width of the roof, cawing loudly at the humans below.

Simultaneously, the front door swung shut behind him, once again maneuvered by some unseeable force. 

Natalie was still reeling from that when the curtain wall on the other side of the shack was shoved aside. This time, an actual human being was on the other side of the covering, revealing themselves to be a tiny young woman that Natalie did indeed recognize—albeit vaguely—from the witch doctor’s trial years ago. 

The woman was adorned with a baggy, tan dress that looked a size too big for her, accompanied by a dirtied apron whose front pocket was bogged down by even more trinkets and herbs, which were slightly peeking out over the edge. Half of her body mass seemed to consist of her wild mane of curls, which Natalie remembered being a light, golden color at the time of the trial. Now though, they had become a matted, dusty shade from neglect in the years spent out here, stranded with no other company. And no motivation to properly care for herself. Even the rounded spectacles she wore showed evidence of little self-regard, for there was a long-running crack in the left lens, splintering the image of her eye on that side of her face. 

The crow sitting overhead began flapping his wings, descending from the rafters to settle on the rod of the curtain, uttering a series of short caws at the woman now that he was closer to her. 

The witch waved at him, resembling an exasperated mother trying to dismiss their overexcited toddler. “Yes, yes, I know you said someone was coming this way,” she grumbled. “I didn’t think they would actually come inside.”

It took Natalie a moment to realize she was talking to the bird. 

In any other circumstance, she would have asked if there was some sort of witch spell that actually allowed the other woman to understand the language of the animal (if not, the years of isolation here had surely driven her to madness). Now, however, Natalie cast her curiosity aside in favor of the more pressing matter at hand. 

“Are you the witch that was exiled by both kingdoms?”

The tiny woman scowled at that. “Well, I prefer my given name, Misty. And you are?”

“Natalie. And this is Lottie—”

“And who taught you manners, Miss Natalie?”

Now it was Natalie’s turn to be exasperated. Her patience was rapidly waning, knowing that every moment spent having to preface why they were there was another moment in which Lottie struggled to breathe. 

“Please,” the barmaid said, hugging the princess closer to her side. “I’ve heard you can cure anything. We need a cure for this.”

#my stories #lottie x natalie #Lottienat #Lottie Matthews #Natalie Scatorccio #Misty Quigley #Van Palmer #Yellowjackets #I tried my damndest to have this up in time for my birthday #alas I'm 2 days late

[themarshmallownerd]

New Chapter: The End and the Beginning

Link: Chapter 3

Previous: Chapter 2

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: So, don't be mad…. This became a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And so, to make it more digestible, I've decided to prolong the finale to an additional chapter. But fret not! We will still see the resolution to Nat and Lottie's side of the story soon enough!

Preview: "She started the new project tentatively at first. She told herself she was only going to start it, not doing anything more than simply carving the mold that would hold the light.

However, as had become a pattern in all of her projects, she quickly became absorbed by her process.

She hardly thought about what she was doing as she proceeded to melt a batch of iron, grinding it in with vapors she had collected earlier. On a whim, she also added the additional stardust she had spilled when she hurt her hand, even though it had started to gel into a thick, honey-like substance. To her pleasant surprise, the mixture of fresh stardust with an older batch did manage to give the project a more solid structure than the last few creations.

Nevertheless, it was still missing something. Something to make it glow, as lights were meant to do. At the moment, the light emanating from her creation was barely brighter than a meager ember smoldering at the bottom of a fire pit.

What else could she use?

The half-blood reached for the hilt of one of her carving knives again just to have something to busy her hands with as she contemplated other materials to add. She tried to think of what she hadn’t tried before, something that would be unique to this project alone. Something that could effectively parallel how close she carried her friendship with Jackie to her heart. 

The only thing she carried closer was her heart, itself. And she very well couldn’t cut that out.

Although…

Shauna glanced down as her fingers continued to absentmindedly trace the sharp edge of the blade on her hand. Her touch became a little slower, a little more deliberate as her thoughts wandered to stories she’d heard as a child of other half-blooded mortals like her. How the godly half of their lineage not only shielded them from typical childhood scrapes and bruises, but also had the capacity to spare them from suffering amidst truly egregious wounds.

She hadn’t understood what that had meant when she was younger. Now, though, it gave her an idea. The possibility of a sacrifice to her craft. Something that could be truly unique to this project alone.

Her fingers slid down to the hilt of the carving knife, the skin turning white under the strength of her sudden determination. With a twist of her wrist, she was able to point the tip of the blade towards herself.

She closed her eyes for the next part. She wasn’t squeamish by any means, but she wasn’t entirely confident in her abilities for this either. Which meant she had to leave it up to blind trust in her god-gifted instincts to guide her hand.

She inhaled deeply. Then she gave her wrist a sharp jerk forward.

The blade pierced straight into her chest. Shauna groaned as she felt it slice through her, yet kept her eyes firmly sealed. She felt around the edges of the knife with just her mind’s eye. Honed in on the sensations in her chest there; the interrupted blood vessels, the torn muscles, the ache of pain meant to alert her to the intrusion.

She pictured those feelings being shoved down, stored out of sight and mind as she mentally called something else forward. Something calming, something that kept her very being warm. She pictured that swarming the blade instead of blood or muscle, clinging to the edges of the knife as she pulled it out of her chest. It left her body with little resistance, leaving her with a vague bite of cold where the knife had once been.

She finally chanced a look down at what she had done when she felt something foreign dribbling out of the wound in her chest. However, it wasn’t blood. It was too bright to be that. It practically glowed amidst the darkness of the underground workshop, casting a pale yellow light over its surroundings. The substance was thinner, too, not quite congealing the way blood does. The most it could be likened to something else was the wax that drips down the side of a candle that’s been burning for too long.

“Shit!” the half-blood cursed through her teeth as it started to feel like burning wax dripping down her skin. She hastily dropped her carving knife on the nearest table, scrambling to free her hands so she could paw at the opening in her chest, to stem the flow of…whatever this was. Her life’s essence? Her soul?

Whatever it was, it was now cupped carefully within the palms of her hands. She carried it to the current mixture she was working on, spilling it into the mortar. Then she ground it all together with the accompanying pestle, creating one conglomerate mix once again.

To her satisfaction, the glow from her latest addition held steady, making the entire concoction brighter.

With a renewed, delighted vigor, Shauna swiftly brought her mortar back across the length of the forge. She made short work of pouring it into the cauldron hanging over the main fire, then stepped back to observe as the brew she had made started to bubble inside. After a few heartbeats, it started to expand inside the cauldron, glowing brighter as it swelled into an even bigger shape. Eventually, it even started to rival the fire below.

Shauna laughed at the sight, semi-hysterical.

She had done it. She had a creation."

#my stories #Yellowjackets #Lottienat #Jackieshauna #Taivan #Jackie Taylor #Shauna Shipman #Taissa Turner #Van Palmer #Natalie Scatorccio #Laura Lee #posting this from my new apartment!!!!! #hopefully with my moving process over and done with #I'll be able to get the next update out quicker

[themarshmallownerd]

Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I'm curious to know if the next chapter of the 'Find me uptown' story is coming soon? Sorry again for bothering you, I just really love this story and am looking forward to the next chapter. Have a nice day :3

It's no bother! Yes, I still have FMU on the backburner of my current projects. I'm just currently taking a small break from Marvel after writing nothing else for several years. But I do have the next chapter of FMU already started, and I still have my outline for where the story is intended to go. An official update is definitely on its way ❤️❤️

#nerd answers

[themarshmallownerd]

Onward to Eternal Day

Summary: Several months after their rescue from the Wilderness, Natalie still struggles with feeling human again. In an effort to reconnect with someone who understands, she goes looking for her fellow surviving Yellowjackets. In true teen-prophet fashion, Lottie sees her coming.

Relationship(s): Lottie Matthews/Natalie Scatorccio; Lottie Matthews & Natalie Scatorccio; minor Lottie Matthews & Laura Lee

Ratings: Teen+

Link: Onward to Eternal Day (AO3)

A/N: Slight story behind this story: this was actually the first piece I wrote for Yellowjackets. Really, just an exercise in trying to find a writing voice for Lottie and Nat. It was originally going to be my induction into the fandom before my Razia's Shadow AU suddenly possessed me. At the time, this was already at a solid 51 pages, so I couldn't just scrap it. LottieNat Week on Tumblr felt like a good time to revisit it, and so here we are!

Preview: "She shifts in her seat, suddenly hyper-aware of how hard and unforgiving the cold metal is. It’s uncomfortable, but grounding in that way. She holds onto that feeling, keeping herself in this moment. Tethering herself to her new purpose, even if it’s something as simple as visiting Lottie.

“How, um…how long have you been here?”

Lottie’s brow furrows again. Her glazed eyes look around them, searching for the clues to her answer along the walls. There’s a certain hesitance to it as she goes to answer, like she isn’t sure if she’s allowed to say. Or even to remember.

“For…a while,” is what she settles on eventually.

“OK,” is Nat’s equally vague response to that.

Now, she’s the one looking around the room. Searching for whatever Lottie is looking for. All she sees, however, are the same frost-white walls. It stirs that earlier sense of unease through her blood again, and she ultimately has to look away from it.

She tethers herself to Lottie again, instead. Lottie, who still sits there quietly, looking just as dazed and lost as the day they were brought home. Lottie, who also hasn’t changed her hair since that day, leaving it long and frizzy where it falls on either side of her chest. Lottie, who still has the pale outline of a little arch-shaped scar in the center of her forehead. Her third eye, as she and Tai would sometimes call it under their breaths in condescension.

Lottie…

Lottie, who has bruises.

She notices the first one when Lottie begins idly rubbing her arm, bringing one hand into view over the surface of the table. A patch of discoloration marks her wrist, peeking out from the long sleeve of her cardigan.

“Lottie?” slips out of Nat in alarm. That previously dormant provider role she’d had in the Wilderness rouses again, straightening her spine to get a better look at the markings on her teammate’s skin. “Did you get hurt in here?”

Lottie follows her gaze down to her wrist. She turns it over once, twice, inspecting it like it’s the first time she’s noticed it. Then she half-heartedly tugs on her sleeve to cover it (not because it bothers her, but because Natalie seems so upset by it; a martyr’s habits die hard apparently). As she does so, Natalie sees the matching one on her opposite wrist.

One abrasion could’ve been accidental. Multiple feels familiar to Natalie in a way that makes her fingers itch for the shotgun on her dad’s side of the closet.

Weren’t places like this supposed to keep the patients safe? Even from themselves? If they couldn’t manage that, then—

“What the hell are they doing to you in here?”

It’s the first question to make Lottie palpably uncomfortable. She looks at the table between them, rubbing her arm some more. She doesn’t notice—or perhaps just doesn’t care—that the friction of her sleeves against each other causes the fabric to writhe up, exposing the ring of bruises again.

“There’s…” she starts to say, sounding confused by her own answer as it rotates in her mind. “It’s just to…until they can fix me.”

“What does that mean?” Natalie demands, untrusting of that particular phrasing.

“I’m not…” Lottie struggles some more, cinching her eyes shut with a minute shake of her head. “I have to…”

She cut herself off with a distressed catch of breath. Her eyes open, and for the briefest of moments, she looks fully human again. Not just present in the moment, but capable of genuine emotion. Granted, it’s a frustrated emotion right now, bordering on tears, but still.

She looks like Lottie again.

It would be a relief if she didn’t look so miserable at the same time.

“I still hear it,” she says at last, quiet and somber. It comes out like a confession of sin, although it’s far from the worst thing either of the girls have seen or heard. “At night. Sometimes, I can still hear…It.”

Round brown eyes bore into Nat, imploring her to understand.

She does. Maybe not in the same way Lottie does, but she definitely feels It lingering in her bones. It’s what brought her out here, after all, searching for camaraderie in warding it off.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, now ducking her own gaze to the surface of the table between them. “I know what you mean.”

“Do you really?”

Natalie winces a little at the hopeful tinge painting Lottie’s question. She was never good at that; handling other people’s hope.

Ironically, that had been more of Lottie’s thing.

Natalie had always envied it, just as much as she’d secretly wished she could receive it. That she could accept it when it was offered.

Now, Lottie fills in the silence where Nat struggles to. “I, um…try not to listen. They say it won’t help. But sometimes I…”

Natalie looks up just as Lottie trails off. Her stomach twists with helplessness as she watches her former teammate’s eyes glaze over again, staring right through her.

“Lottie?” she tries, opting to physically reach out to the other girl. To ground her. However, as she stretches across the surface of the table, she hesitates to actually put a hand on Lottie’s body.

Logically, she knows there’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like Lottie is made out of glass, or that touching her—potentially pulling her out of her trance—would cause her to shatter. Then again, Lottie did always have a way of defying logic."

#my stories #lottienat #Lottie Matthews #Natalie Scatorccio #lottie x natalie #Yellowjackets #fun fact! #the title is from Sir Edwin Arnold's poem: Destiny

[themarshmallownerd]

New Chapter: The End and the Beginning

Link: Chapter 2

Previous: Chapter 1

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: I'll be honest, I rushed through editing on this one because I was absolutely determined to get it out before I leave for vacation with my friends. So, please, bear with me on it!

That being said, just one more chapter after this! I'm excited to bring the rest of the girls in! I'm hoping I can give them all their due justice ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Preview: "The scar was faded and white from over a decade’s time to heal, but it was there nonetheless, like the ghost of a third eye on her face. Evidence of that frightening night from her childhood.

Another source of darkness in the Princess of Light.

Natalie tried not to take nostalgic comfort in such things anymore. These days, she was trying to dwell on the present more than the past. Especially since she had found an actual sense of belonging in the present, during these expeditions through the woods with Lottie.

Hoping to return this particular outing to the more lighthearted tone of before, she smirked playfully at her friend. “You know me as ‘Nat’ now? I thought I told you I had that name reserved.”

Any concern that Lottie had forgotten about the first conversation they’d ever had, all the way back at the festival from months ago, was quickly dashed. The princess’s face flushed with pink and she averted Natalie’s gaze with a bashful turn of her head.

“I—well, I…” she sputtered for a moment, and Natalie couldn’t help but taste the slightest bit of self-satisfaction to know she was the only one who got to see the kingdom’s poised and proper princess so flustered. “Well, I know I can’t speak for you. But I know I certainly consider you dear to me.”

Natalie’s pride was swift to leave her as heat blossomed in her own face at that.

“I’m not sure if the principle remains the same that way,” Lottie went on, seeming to regain more of her self-composure just as more of Natalie’s seeped out of her. “So, you’ll have to forgive my slip of tongue just this once if it doesn’t mean anything.”

Natalie’s face only burned hotter at the improper thoughts that crossed her mind at the mention of Lottie’s tongue.

Wow. Kevyn was right. She was pining.

“No,” she said once she had managed to reign in her unseemly mind. “No forgiveness needed. I’d say you already earned the privilege to that name.”

“I have?”

In spite of her efforts to maintain a mask of impassive composure, Natalie couldn’t help but grin in amusement at the sight of the princess, so endearing in her childlike excitement to potentially mean as much to Natalie as the barmaid meant to her.

“Well, now you’ve seen where I spend the other half of my days,” Natalie reminded. “Between a sea of lonely, drunk sailors in a dusty old building, and just one lonely, well-mannered princess out here in the open air, I would say you’re definitely the preferable company. Not to mention, a preferable view, as well.”

Lottie gasped in feigned scandal. “Is that all you take me for? A pretty face? Why, Ms. Taylor, you shameless miscreant.”

Natalie breathed a soft laugh (and ignored the slight twist in her stomach at hearing Lottie address her by a false name). “Oh? You’re calling me a miscreant? That’s rich, you little coquette, considering you indulge my attention anyways.”

Natalie waded closer in the water, until she was practically pressing into Lottie’s side. Giving the princess no room to hide as Natalie teasingly asked her, “Tell me, does it fill your blue blood with thrill to capture the interest of a lowly serviceman?”

As intended, the tight proximity on its own was enough to flood Lottie’s face with a bashful rosy color again. “No…” she murmured quietly, and for a moment, Natalie thought she had the victory in this playful battle of charms.

But then, before Natalie could realize where her friend’s hand was, she felt a shove against her back, sending her forward in the water. The creek was shallow enough that she was able to right herself easily, though it was at the cost of splashing even more water up along her clothing, soaking various patches along her legs with cool water. In the process—and to her slight embarrassment—a tiny squeak of surprise escaped her.

“But that—that did give a thrill,” Lottie declared around a devilish grin.

“Mucky pup,” Natalie growled, though there wasn’t any heat behind it. She crouched down to dip her hands into the water, slinging a handful at the princess.

To her credit, Lottie barely flinched at the chilling touch of the water. In fact, she promptly retaliated by swatting the surface of the creek as well, lightly splashing back at Natalie. It prompted a hearty back-and-forth between them, sending little waves of water flying at each other.

Natalie yelped every time she was struck by even a touch of cold liquid, curling in on herself to avoid it as best she could. Yet, there was little time to actually feel its chill when Lottie suddenly gave chase and she tried to flee in turn.

It was a slow-paced chase, given they had to calculate each step to avoid slipping on the uneven, moss-covered stones that composed the creek floor. Even then, Natalie wound up losing her footing anyways when she tried to gamble with a particularly slick, flat-faced rock.

Fortunately, Lottie was close enough to dart forward and grab her arm before she could completely topple onto the stones below. The princess was quick to pull the barmaid’s body backwards, onto a more secure boulder with her, and wrapped her arms around Natalie from behind to keep her secured there.

“Whoa! Steady there,” Lottie urged as Natalie regained her footing. “Are you alright, dearest?”

In spite of their jesting exchange mere moments ago, the earnest use of the term of endearment nearly made Nat’s legs buckle completely below her. She could only hope that Lottie couldn’t feel the sudden spike in her heart rate, despite the fact that the princess’s hands were locked directly over her sternum. They were pressing down slightly, applying a comforting pressure right by her heart, which was now pounding in shameless abashment.

“Yes,” Natalie managed to answer. “I’m alright.”

#my stories #lottienat #lottie x natalie #lottie matthews #natalie scatorccio #Yellowjackets #we'll dive deeper into taivan and jackieshauna next chapter! #I promise!!!!!!!!!

[themarshmallownerd]

The End and the Beginning

Summary: In another time, on another Earth, the world was divided in two by the catastrophic mistakes of a powerful demigod. A hundred years later, a runaway fugitive, Natalie, unwittingly sets into motion the events of an ancient prophecy that foretells the Earth will finally be reunited again through the powers of love and hope.

Relationships: Lottie Matthews/Natalie Scatorccio; minor Shauna Shipman/Jackie Taylor; minor Van Palmer/Taissa Turner

Ratings: Mature (M) for canon-typical violence and language

Link: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: I know, I know I have a handful of other projects to finish, and I have definitely not forgotten about them! That being said, the show Yellowjackets has completely taken over my brain in the past few months, and this particular AU practically possessed me a few weeks ago. So here is my humble offerings to the LottieNat fandom, a Razia's Shadow AU that absolutely no one asked for!

Thanks as always to my friend @i-write-shakespeare-not-disney for indulging my ideas, and all the different versions of this AU I've always wanted to do! ily

Preview: "Propped up against a short stack of identical siblings, there was a blue book with a portrait of the faceless Spirit of the Wilderness on the cover. The same portrait she used to seek out in the library back home.

Upon stepping up to the stand for a closer look, she found it wasn’t exactly the same as the version of the book back home. The cover was a lighter shade of blue, more reminiscent of the Light Kingdom’s sky, and the detailing was done in silver as opposed to gold. The text, however, looked to be the same as Natalie carefully skimmed through some of the pages. Even the illustrations were the same, aside from the silver coloring.

She tilted the book around to show the cover to the saleswoman. “How much for this one?”

Despite her time spent in the Light Kingdom, she still half-expected to be met with disdain for indulging in fantastical stories, the same way Javi was usually scoffed at back in the Dark Lands.

The bookseller, however, only grinned widely at the cover. “Oh, the World Genesis Tale,” she said, voice thick with affection. “Sammy—my boy, he always favors those stories the most.”

“Yeah,” Nat replied, turning the cover back around to look at how the Spirit’s portrait glittered beneath the light of the sun as opposed to meager table lamps. “Mine did too…”

The woman sold the book for whatever was left in Natalie’s pocket. It wasn’t much, but the seller seemed genuinely grateful for the patronage.

At first, Nat went to put the book into the satchel she had brought with her, alongside her other purchases. Yet, at the last minute, she decided against it, wanting to carry the book in her arms instead. Something about hugging it to her chest balmed her soul, made the book’s presence feel more tangible. It reminded her that it was there, that a version of the same stories she once shared with her favorite pupil now belonged to her.

It was like a piece of her homeland had followed her over the divide.

For all its faults, the Dark Lands was her home once. She couldn’t help but miss it sometimes. She missed Javi following her around, asking her more and more questions about the world as he warmed up to her more with each passing day. She missed Travis contesting her on trivial things that never really mattered in the grand scheme of things, keeping her wit sharp in the process. She even missed the darkness itself. At night, when she retired to her room at the inn, she would always draw the curtains over the window closed, casting a layer of shadow over herself as she slept.

It didn’t completely cure her homesickness, but it did offer a temporary solace at least.

Now, she had her book of genesis fables, too. Hopefully, it would also help with those bittersweet moods of nostalgia. She already felt comforted by the familiarity of the Spirit’s face—or rather, lack thereof—as she peeked down at the cover in her arms once more.

The Spirit…

Natalie hadn’t realized that as her mind wandered, her feet had begun to as well, carrying her past the marketplace street and into the neighboring meadow that painted the threshold between the City and the surrounding woodlands. When she finally glanced up to see where they had led her, she gasped at the sight that greeted her.

The Spirit is real?

As she processed the sight before her more fully, she realized that—of course—that wasn’t true. Rather, it had been a trick of perspective from where she was standing.

Across the ways from her, at the very edge of the treeline that marked the starting place of the woods, another figure was standing amidst the grassy expanse of land. From Natalie’s vantage point, it looked like they possessed a great crown of antlers branching out from either side of their head.

However, in the next few heartbeats, the figure shifted in their place, revealing the antlers to be from an actual deer that happened to be standing behind them. In fact, there were deer surrounding the figure on all sides, grazing on the grass as if their human companion wasn’t even there.

The figure’s voice sounded like a woman’s. What exactly she was saying was lost in the several yards of space between herself and Natalie, but her tone sounded as soft as the shade of pink in her long, draping gown. The fabric pooled around her as she knelt down amidst the circle of deer, offering her hand out to the smallest of the bunch. A thin, tentative fawn that was half the size of the others, with fading white spots lining the sides of its body. It stumbled over to the stranger with a high-pitched bleat that Natalie could hear even across the distance between them.

“It’s alright,” Natalie heard as she drifted closer. She watched as the fawn also ambled closer to the stranger, its short muzzle sniffing at the long waves of midnight hair that spilled over her shoulder. “You’re alright. I know—I know it’s a little different. But it will help keep you strong.”

The fawn hesitated only a moment more before shoving its tiny nose into the palm of her hand, lapping up whatever she was offering.

“There you are,” the stranger cooed her encouragement. “See? Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it’s harmful. You just have to have trust. And, who knows?”

For a heartbeat, the fawn stopped snuffling against her palm to look up, as if actually listening to her words.

“Maybe you’ll even grow to like it. Just because you can get by now, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to search for something better. Sometimes, even people struggle with that. Even me.”

#my stories #Yellowjackets #Natalie Scatorccio #Lottie Matthews #Lottienat #lottie x natalie #Van Palmer #taivan

[themarshmallownerd]

New Chapter: Like Forty Dogs

Link: Chapter 11

Previous: Chapter 10

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: Please note, this chapter does have a higher rating than the others so far (Explicit). Reader discretion is advised.

Preview: “It’s witchcraft. That crazy witchcraft…” she supplied for them both, singing the lyrics softly under her breath. “And I know it’s strictly taboo…”

The rest of the verse was lost in her peal of surprised laughter as James suddenly pulled her closer, his fingers having hooked into the belt loops of her jeans without her noticing. She hastily tossed her box of tea onto the nearest countertop, leaving her hands free to wind around his neck in return.

She continued humming the tune of the song as the soldier guided her through a slight sway back and forth. He gently pulled her forward again, this time leading her out from between her kitchen countertops and into the more open living room area. Once there was proper space for it, he took her hand in his and lifted their joined hands over her head, inciting her to twirl just in time for the final line of the song that Natasha had made infamous in the Maximoff household.

“Cause there’s no nicer witch than you…”

James was positively beaming as he pulled her back to his chest. This time, he kept one hand in hers at their sides and the other rested on her waist as they continued to sway in a dance unaccompanied by any actual music.

“You really do know your older American media,” he remarked. “I stand corrected. And, also a bit sorry that I didn’t pay more attention when my ‘ma tried to teach me how to do this proper.”

They both looked down at their feet, hyper-conscious of the way they shuffled closely against the floor to keep from stepping on each other.

“Well…I’d say it works for us,” Wanda said in encouragement.

“Yeah,” James assented. “I like it, at least. But I think I might be biased. I’m pretty partial to any excuse to be close to you.”

In spite of all their time together, comments like that still managed to make her skin flush pink. She slipped her hand from his grasp to cling to the base of his neck again, pressing her blushing face into his collar.

Her eyelids fluttered shut as she breathed in the faint scent of him. His usual body soap, and a hint of the perpetual butter and popcorn scent that permeated the small movie theater they had just come from. It was entrancing in a way, to be held in his arms, surrounded by his scent, able to hear the thrum of his heart beating steadily against his chest.

She felt a kiss to her shoulder. Another at the side of her throat, and then her cheekbone, coaxing her out of the crook of his neck. Then he kissed her lips.

It started out gently. Chaste, and sweet, and over too soon.

Wanda kept her arms around him, pulling him flush against her in a silent imploration for more. James obliged her, cupping her head as he leaned in to kiss her again.

This time, his kiss was a little fuller. A little deeper. His tongue peeked out, running along her bottom lip. She parted her lips, allowing it to sweep against hers.

The next thing she knew, she had pulled him with her until they had bumped into the nearest piece of furniture. She didn’t let it stop her, instead letting herself collapse across the length of the sofa, unceremoniously shoving throw pillows to the floor as she went. James went along with her, mouth still slanted over hers and his hair tangled with her fingers. He fumbled with how to situate himself over her without completely settling his weight on top of her, inadvertently driving his knee up in-between her legs in the process. It ignited a jolt of lightning through her.

God, she wanted this. She wanted him.

#WinterWitch #ScarletSoldier #bucky barnes x wanda maximoff #Wanda Maximoff #Bucky Barnes #Tommy Maximoff #Billy Maximoff #my stories #not sure if it needs a CW but there is depiction of illness too #not Covid related I promise

[themarshmallownerd]

@ fic readers who write play by play comments that highlight your favorite passages and why you like them, please know you are the best humans to exist and please don’t stop what you’re doing

[themarshmallownerd]

New Chapter: Like Forty Dogs

Link: Chapter 10

Previous: Chapter 9

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: Heavy content warnings in this chapter for depictions of a panic attack, experiencing PTSD, and depressive episodes. Reader discretion is advised, and as always, I implore readers take self-care as well ❤️

Also, I believe an advanced warning for the next chapter is in order, for it will be going up in rating to an E (explicit). Since it will only be for that chapter in particular, the rest of the story will retain its current M (mature) rating as a whole. Again, reader discretion is advised ❤️❤️

Preview: Nebula.

The other woman finally addressed Wanda just as the realization behind the nickname struck. “You’re not Korean barbecue,” she noted flatly, her voice deep and throaty despite her deceptively thin frame.

“Hi,” Wanda greeted belatedly, embarrassed to have been caught staring so long at the detailed designs on the other woman’s arm. She didn’t want to make it seem as though she had been staring at the metal appendage at the end of said arm. Granted, the metal prosthetic did look vastly different than the arm James had. It looked more skeletal, as though its priority had been simple function over appearing lifelike. “Um…I’m here for James Barnes.”

Hazel eyes narrowed at her. “For what?”

“I’m his, uh…” 

Wanda faltered, having never quite figured out how she preferred to describe herself in relation to the soldier. At the moment, all she could settle on was an awkward declaration of, “Wanda.”

It was enough, thankfully, to erase the defensive tension in Nebula’s shoulders. With one last glance over Wanda’s overall form, she stepped aside, holding the door open for the other woman to enter. She tipped her head towards the interior of the house behind her. “Second door on the right back there.”

“Thank you,” the young mother murmured as she slipped through the opening Nebula provided. 

Nebula only let the door swing shut behind her by way of response. “If you hear the door again, don’t sweat it. It’s just the food.”

She didn’t stop to see if Wanda had anything to reply with. She merely crossed the distance between them and the kitchen, and beyond that, the tiny breakfast nook. She shooed away the black and white cat—Sam’s cat, Figaro; Wanda recognized him from pictures on James’s phone—that had been laying out across the open laptop on the table there. 

Wanda had thought her house was small, but this…it looked like it could fit inside her own. As she made her way across the short, carpeted expanse of the living room, she couldn’t help but notice how it was also bereft of any personal memorabilia. No pictures, artwork, books, or even knick knacks on the shelves or walls to indicate someone had been living here for the past year, let alone three people. At most, the only signs of life were a few scattered cat toys on the floor, and a couch that was extremely faded and run-down, as though it had a life with dozens of other families before finding a final resting place here. 

The tiny hallway at the other end of the den was even more barren than the rest of the house. Hidden from any light from the back windows, walking up to the door at the end of it felt akin to approaching a lonely prison cell. 

“James?” she asked gently. She rapped the back of her knuckles against the door, before bringing her hand back to her chest to fiddle with the necklace she was wearing. Her previous concerns over how he would interpret her showing up in his home, uninvited (by him, at least) started simmering in her stomach as several heartbeats passed by with no response. 

“James, honey,” she tried again, willing her voice to come out light and teasing. “Both of your roommates said you’re home today, so if you’re not in there, I’m about to be really embarrassed.”

Suddenly, the door opened to reveal a ghostly version of the man she had been looking for. He looked down at her with eyes wrinkled around the edges from confusion, and underlined by dark circles. His hair was unwashed, hanging in stringy strands just above his shoulders. The light scruff that usually outlined his jaw looked unkempt, having grown out thicker than she’d ever seen it on him before. His clothes, which consisted of merely a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants and a thin, almost translucent white tank top, were rumpled, as though he had just been jostled from what few moments of sleep he could get. 

The sleeves to the tank top were also very thin, offering a glimpse at the very edge of his prosthetic arm. As she looked at it closely, she could see bits of raised skin along the edge. Scarring that looked like it had been painful when it was fresh.

“Wanda?” he questioned, his voice thick and gravelly from what she presumed to be little use in the past few days. 

Hearing his voice for the first time in so many days was enough to snap her out of studying just how disheveled he’d become in the wake of whatever had happened to him. “Um…hi,” she greeted lamely. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“I, uh…” 

She shivered as she remembered what had driven her away from work to begin with. 

No. Don’t think about that. Not right now. 

“I had something come up at work,” was her explanation for the time being, “so they didn’t need me there today. I thought about visiting you at work for lunch, but Sam said you were here, so…here I am.”

“I’m sorry,” James rasped, averting his eyes to the floor between them. “He shouldn’t have…”

Wanda gave him a moment to finish the thought. When he didn’t seem able to, she went on without it. 

“Well, I’m glad he did,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I don’t think I would’ve particularly liked showing up to a busy garage full of other hungry people if you weren’t there.”

“Well, yeah, that would, um…but still…” 

James sighed shortly when he couldn’t seem to find the words he wanted, clenching his fists over and over in his frustration with himself. 

A lively chime echoed through the kitchen on the other side of the modest house, followed by a series of keyboard keys clicking as Nebula worked on whatever was on her laptop. It made Wanda even more aware of the other woman’s presence in the house. In such a tiny space, it was likely she could hear everything they discussed, even while busy with other things.

“Do you mind if we go in?” she offered for the sake of James’s privacy. 

He faltered again, glancing back at the room behind him. He started to say one thing, only to clamp his jaw around it, and then another, and again. Ultimately, he merely stepped out of the way with a reluctant tilt of his head, wordlessly inviting her in. 

#my stories #WinterWitch #ScarletSoldier #bucky barnes x wanda maximoff #Bucky Barnes #Wanda Maximoff #heavy subject matter aside; #I HAVE been looking forward to this one #I even named it after one of my all time favorite songs

[themarshmallownerd]

AO3 Etiquette

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

Kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished - you kudos.

If you liked it, you should comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it. Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity. Don't ruin that for them.

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLANTONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an implicit rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Avoid deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - orphan it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to you anymore.

This is a creative fanfiction archive. No essays on your insights or theories please. There are other places for that.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[themarshmallownerd]

Of the members of the team in your Empire of Miracles AU, who’s the most likely to tell both of the Maximoff twins, separately and at different times, “You were always my favorite.”

(This is completely in jest lol, but I can think of one person in particular who would attempt this 😂)

My first inclination is to say Sam, since he's friends with both of them, and is the most likely to (playfully) swap loyalties when it suits him in a situation. 😅

I could also see Tony doing the same for similar reasons, but given their collective history together, he might mean it a little more, lol

#nerd answers #DUFE series #for Tony I feel like he would say it to Wanda more often adfdafkj;

[themarshmallownerd]

I feel like this is an unpopular opinion, but more people should read incomplete/unfinished/in-progress fanfics.

I've noticed this huge trend where creators on tiktok and tumblr who will be explaining how to use Archive Of Our Own to new users and they always say "and make sure to scroll down and click completed only" or how people will go out of their way to mention they only read completed fics 'because they were traumatized when they forgot to check the dates and didn't realize this fic hadn't been updated since 2012'.

The thing is - I think by not engaging with and/or actively avoiding writer's WIPs readers are potentially adding to the aggregate of abandoned works. Now this obviously isn't the case for all abandoned fics, anything from major life events, to loss of interest, to getting busy can be a reason for a fic getting abandoned - but at least on some level I just know that writers are quitting while they're ahead when they aren't garnering any response or feedback because reading WIPs has become unpopular. If you're worried about reading something that hasn't been updated since 2012 then you can use the date updated function to sort out old fics.

Anyways, support your favorite fanfic writers by engaging with their WIPs.

[themarshmallownerd]

New Chapter: Find Me Uptown

Link: Chapter 4

Previous: Chapter 3

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: I know this chapter is long overdue. The winter holidays are a rough time at my place, but I just knew I had to post something on Florence Pugh Day! I hope the longer length eases some of the burn from all that waiting. Thanks for everyone's patience! ❤️

Content warnings in this chapter for brief depictions of one-on-one violence, and an allusion to suspected domestic violence.

Preview: “Come on,” the spy stated cheerily, heeding Fanny’s unspoken wish to keep going. “Let’s go bother your little friends.”

Fortunately, there was little foot traffic to get in their way as they strayed from their usual path, allowing Yelena to focus more on where exactly they were going. Though, that wasn’t to say she wasn’t still paying attention to their surroundings as they went, making mental notes of important locations, such as pharmacies and electronics stores. Just in case she found herself crossing through this part of the city again under more exigent circumstances.

She slowed her pace as they reached one of the streets Melina had mentioned by name. It was a busier area here, with more people traipsing in and out of various shops and cafés all piled together along the single strip of asphalt. She had to watch herself, and how often she studied each person she passed by, looking for that one familiar face.

Just as she was starting to think they had indeed gone looking at the wrong time, Fanny suddenly uttered a faint whine, tugging on her leash for something ahead of them. Yelena couldn’t tell what had captured her attention at first. Then, she followed her dog’s gaze across the street from where they were heading.

There you are.

Technically, it was Lucky she spotted first. His bright yellow fur stuck out amongst the sea of moving human bodies and black iron chairs surrounding him. He was perfectly still, peering up at his usual traveling companion in what Yelena could only guess was imploration for her to share some of the breakfast sandwich she was currently digging into. Sure enough, she plucked out something from its center, too small to discern from a distance, and handed it to him, grinning fondly as he eagerly scarfed it down.

Fanny whined again, looking up at Yelena as if incredulous that she was about to pass by them.

“Hang on,” Yelena soothed quietly. They couldn’t make it obvious they had been looking for a near-perfect stranger and her dog just so Fanny could have someone to play with. She had to use her cards more carefully than that.

Luckily, Kate and Lucky both played right into the game.

Yelena didn’t look up, feigning total ignorance to their presence at the coffee shop across the street. Yet, she could hear Lucky barking, presumably at Fanny, as they passed by. Fanny grumbled as she went, clearly begrudging as she went along with her mama’s charade.

“Lena?”

Yelena staged a startled twitch at the call of her half-name, looking around her immediate vicinity before letting her eyes land across the street again. Kate had turned in her chair to face her, though seemed to have shrunk in on herself when she blurted out Yelena’s ‘name.’ However, as Yelena finally pretended to notice her, she perked up, waving at her in friendly greeting.

The spy faked an incredulous chuckle, offering a half-hearted wave in return. She checked both sides of the street before quickly scurrying across the ways, with Fanny eagerly pulling ahead of her as much as her leash would allow. The mutt inserted herself right between the other pair, jabbing her muzzle into the young woman’s thigh before turning to paw at Lucky in excitement.

Kate greeted her cheerfully, like an old friend. Though, Yelena didn’t miss the way she held her side as she scooted forward, as if pained by her own movements.

At this closer angle, the Widow also noticed a few details on the other young woman’s face that looked evident of a long night. Her eyes were circled by a faint discoloration, seemingly bright only because of the energy provided by the coffee on her table. There was a thin white bandage covering some sort of abrasion on her forehead, a few inches above her left brow. Any other potential injuries were covered by a frumpy white sweatshirt and ripped jeans (though, now Yelena suspected her inclination towards baggier, more comfortable clothing could also be a rejection of her upbringing in Snob Hill). 

As if feeling her eyes on her, Kate looked back up at Yelena before she could point out the small abrasions. “Hey, strangers. Didn’t think we’d see you around here.”

Yelena didn’t get a chance to respond before the other girl quickly amended the statement with a shake of her head. “I mean…obviously, you can go anywhere you’d like, but just…we don’t usually see—I mean, not a lot of people really know this place, so we don’t see many new faces. I, um…”

She cut herself off with a self-conscious chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m doing the talking thing again, aren’t I?”

“I like it,” Yelena said with certainty. “It’s how I really know it’s you.”

Kate uttered another small laugh. She likely thought Yelena was joking, and didn’t know the genuine relief it was to know someone without having to question their true identity or intentions. 

“We’re just kind of wandering around,” the Widow went on, glancing once more at their surroundings as if it was the first time she was really noticing them. “Expelling a little extra energy we woke up with. Even looked for the Ghostbusters building down the street, back there.”

“Oh, yeah! I totally forgot that’s there.”

Whatever else Kate had been about to say was distracted by playful grumbling from the dogs as Lucky rolled over, tangling himself up in his leash as he and Fanny playfully nipped at each other. Ever patient with them both, Kate merely urged Lucky to roll back over so she could untangle his leash from where it had wound around his throat.

“You know,” she continued once she’d gotten the dogs to play more safely with each other, “I’m glad we ran into you. Or—well, you ran into us, I guess. We’ve kind of been having a slow day, so I was a little worried this would be a boring walk for him.”

Yelena’s brow raised at that, taking another mental note of the bandage on Kate’s forehead and the way she had held her side when she’d moved too quickly.

“Is everything OK?” she pressed casually.

“Oh, yeah—no, I’m fine!” Kate insisted a little too quickly. She even gestured to the side of her face, where Yelena had been eyeing the bandage there. “Really, it’s nothing. Just ran into a little, um…was a little clumsy last night.”

“Hmm,” was all Yelena said in response. The hesitant, almost uncertain tone of voice in Kate’s words didn’t have her truly convinced they were the whole truth. But, she figured it wasn’t her place to start digging into now. She had already crossed that boundary enough last night, with her debrief session with Melina on the other girl’s background.

For the time being, she merely nodded at the coffee shop behind them. “So, is this place any good?”

“Oh, yeah!” said Kate, her posture straightening and eyes glowing with the utmost enthusiasm for her answer this time. “I come here all the time. It’s got a really nice family-run vibe. And it’s never too busy, like the bigger name places. I even drag my friends here every time they visit the city.”

Yelena schooled her face to react as though impressed by the ‘new information’ of Kate frequenting this place often. “That’s quite a review. Maybe I’ll give it a shot before we turn back.”

“Really?” Kate positively beamed at the prospect of helping the other woman find a worthwhile place in the neighborhood. Yelena remembered her mother had mentioned in her background search that another aspect of Kate Bishop’s life was donating significant sums of her money to charitable causes.

It seemed she had a sincere predilection for helping other people.

#my stories #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Bishova #Bishlova #kate bishop x yelena belova #Lucky the Pizza Dog

[themarshmallownerd]

New Chapter: Like Forty Dogs

Link: Chapter 9

Previous: Chapter 8

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: Did all of my editing between the hours of 2 and 4 a.m., so if anything seems off, just bear with me!

Preview: By the time their hour in the park was nearing its end, she had moved onto more mundane moments, such as the mild bout of chaos that had ensued in their excitement to leave the house that morning. “I asked Tommy to put the rest of his sleep clothes away,” she was telling him, “and he picked up the shirt and said, ‘it’s OK, Mama, it’s just a clothe’.”

Both of them chuckled at that.

All of a sudden, the boy in question came running up, his little face pulled into a frown with an urgent sense of worry. “Mama, help! Billy’s stuck!”

“Oh—!” was all Wanda managed to get out as she shot up to her feet, letting him lead the way towards his brother.

Fortunately, ‘stuck’ turned out to be an overstatement. Physically, Billy was perfectly free to move. It was his own fear of heights that had trapped him at the top of the big dome-shaped structure that he had been climbing on. Apparently, he hadn’t realized just how high it was until he was actually at the top. 

“Come on, honey,” Wanda called in encouragement, wriggling her fingers at him from where she stood inside the dome, just beneath the climbing bar he was currently wrapped around. “I’m right here. You can let go. I’ll catch you.”

Billy only unwrapped one of his legs from the metal bar. He waved it around for a bit, only to quickly lurch completely back onto the bar when he didn’t immediately feel his mother’s hand. 

“I’m scared!” Billy whimpered.

 The genuine terror in his widened eyes felt akin to a blade being driven through his mother’s chest.

“It’s OK, honey,” she soothed, lowering her hands. “What about going back down the way you came? Did you try that?”

“It’s too high!” he insisted.

“I said that to him, too,” Tommy informed her, continuing to hover around their mother like a fretful hummingbird, anxious on his brother’s behalf. For how difficult the boys could be with each other, they did still love each other. Like his uncle before him, Tommy in particular took his role as the slightly older, protective brother very seriously.

Their mother hummed thoughtfully, looking around them for other potential solutions. Eventually, her eyes landed on the park bench on the other side of the playground. 

“Billy,” she called up to her son, “what if James came to get you? He’s taller than me, so maybe he can reach.”

“OK,” Billy conceded in a small voice, clearly willing to try anything at this point.

Wanda nodded, turning to Tommy at her side. “Can you go get him, please, baby?” she requested, gently waving him towards the opening in the dome that allowed people to travel in and out of its underside. 

Tommy obediently scampered off. 

Wanda watched from afar as James snapped out of whatever he had been thinking of as soon as the boy came up to him. Tommy didn’t seem to offer anything by way of explanation, simply taking James’s gloved hand and urging the soldier to follow him back to the climbing dome. While his tiny body slipped easily through the opening at the bottom, his accompaniment had to duck his head and twist his body to squeeze through one shoulder at a time. 

“Hi,” Wanda greeted strictly from habit. Pointing up to the beam above their heads, she added, “Can you reach him to help him down?”

James had barely looked up before he was answering certainly, “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

He reached up with both arms, and yet, even someone of his tall stature couldn’t quite reach the very top of the structure. Though, he was able to reach the wriggling ankle of Billy’s leg. 

Billy yelped in surprise when they happened to brush each other, and James immediately retracted his hands with a, “Sorry! That was me. Sorry.”

“James?” Billy peered cautiously downward. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” James replied calmly.

“Can you reach?” the young boy questioned. 

“Not quite,” the soldier answered honestly. “But it’s really close. Probably just need you to scoot over a little, and I’ll have you.”

Billy still didn’t look convinced, craning his neck to gauge the full height he could fall from if James didn’t catch him. 

“Here,” James added after Billy went a moment too long without moving from around the metal beam. The soldier unpeeled his jacket from around his shoulders, handing it to Wanda to hold for the time being. To her surprise, he’d only been wearing the one additional layer over his metal arm, as opposed to the multiple layers he’d usually wear when they first started seeing each other. He also handed Wanda the glove on his left hand, leaving his prosthetic arm completely bare. 

“Look here. Robot arm, remember?” James pointed out, rolling his shoulder on that side, resulting in the metal arm emitting an audible whir. “It was designed for just this sort of thing. That’s why they used vibranium. What was it Peter said that one time? It can withstand, what, a hundred pounds of pressure?”

“A hundred thousand,” Billy corrected gently.

“Oh—a hundred thousand,” James stressed, as if disappointed in himself for ‘forgetting’ the small fun fact from the boys’ neighbor. “My bad. I was way off.” 

He dropped his voice for a moment to feign precaution. “You don’t weigh a hundred thousand pounds per inch, do you?”

“No…” Billy concurred timidly.

“Ah, nice! Should be no problem to catch, then.”

Billy eyed the soldier for a second more. Most notably, he studied the sleek gold and black plates of the prosthetic arm as it reached out to him once more. 

At long last, the boy sucked in a small breath of courage. He leaned over to brace one hand against the climbing bar next to him, allowing both legs to slip into the space between them. Then, he released himself from the bars on either side of him. 

He was only in the air for the span of a heartbeat—though it was enough to make him yelp in alarm—before he landed right into James’s hands. 

The soldier received the sudden weight with nary a, “hup!” before he was tucking the boy securely to his chest. Billy instinctively clasped his arms around James’s neck, pressing his little nose into the soldier’s collar. 

James gave a subtle cheer, rubbing the boy’s back as Billy seemed to finally process he was no longer falling down. “Aha. No problem, just like I thought.”

#my stories #Bucky Barnes #Wanda Maximoff #WinterWitch #ScarletSoldier #bucky barnes x wanda maximoff #Tommy Maximoff #Billy Maximoff #Valkyrie #Brunnhilde #Carol Danvers #I got a new laptop so bear with me on that too please! #since I'm still working out all the quirks

[themarshmallownerd]

Reblog this if you're a writeblr and you wouldnt mind:

Random asks about your wips

Being tagged in tag games by people you don't know yet

Strangers complimenting your work

Fellow writeblrs striking up conversations

Interaction with new writeblrs in general

I see so many folks afraid to jump in to the community, so hopefully this post will lay out like a welcome mat for new folks to come say hi :)

#for all the tumblr newcomers :)

[themarshmallownerd]

New Chapter: Like Forty Dogs

Link: Chapter 8

Previous: Chapter 7

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: No content warnings for this one. Just fluff and the occasional deep conversation.

Preview: Contrary to popular belief, Wanda was not a witch capable of reading minds. Despite so, she could very easily picture the news from the boys’ playground that day still marinating at the surface of Carol’s mind.

Her friend didn’t say anything outright. In fact, she was uncharacteristically quiet when they made it home. Although, the tight-lipped, barely-suppressed grin on her face as she carried the bag of crafts’ supplies inside with her was enough to indicate where her thoughts were.

The boys didn’t take notice, of course, consumed as they were by their excitement for the night of fun to begin. They scampered ahead of their mother and Aunt Carol, making a beeline for the third figure currently at work in front of the stove.

“Aunt Kyrie!” they both exclaimed.

“Qué pasó?” she asked distractedly. Then, upon seeing they both wanted to give her a hug in greeting, ducked down to return the gesture. “Hi! You little morsels ready for tonight?”

“Yeah!” both of the boys enthused.

“Yeah!” Val echoed. “Well, I’m almost finished up here, so as soon as you’ve eaten some real food, we can get into the hard stuff.”

“Yes, please eat,” Wanda put in, coming up behind them. “It will give me ample time to put the finishing touches on all our costumes.”

“Can we still change into them now?” Billy implored.

“Um…I guess so,” Wanda answered after a moment of contemplation. “Just make sure not to get any food on them when you eat, alright?”

Billy eagerly agreed on the condition. Tommy didn’t waste any more time, scurrying off to their room where Wanda had laid out their costumes (minus the finer details she still needed to add) on their respective beds earlier that morning.

“I went with mac and cheese for them,” Val informed, returning to her work and tilting one of the pots just enough for Wanda to see its contents. “Shouldn’t be too messy.”

“Oh, and you used the good cheese,” Wanda noticed. “I just might grab a bowl of that for myself, too.”

“Go for it, Mama Bear. I know that fancy stuff hits different.” She lowered her voice as she leaned in closer to the young mother. “Of course, so would my lower intestine if I were to have any, myself, so it’s all on you guys.”

Wanda was about to respond, keeping the conversation going in comfort that Carol hadn’t said anything this far.

Thus, it came as a surprise to her when said friend made a sudden, unceremonious announcement from behind them. “Wanda’s a MILF.”

“Carol,” Wanda said on the heels of an exasperated sigh. Oh, how she loathed that term.

Val, on the other hand, was wholly unmoved. “Well, we knew that. Why is that news?”

Wanda uttered another sigh, rubbing the space between her brows so she could avoid eye contact as she explained. “There was, uh…a slight incident at the boys’ school. Apparently, word’s been going around that they have, um…a quote, unquote ‘hot mom’. So, today, one of their classmates took it upon herself to ask them if it was true.”

Val hesitated, looking to her girlfriend in an unspoken search for clarification. Upon seeing the now unrestrained delight in Carol’s face, the other woman whispered, “No…no!”

“Yes!” Carol chortled, grabbing at her partner as they both dissolved into laughter.

“Yes,” Wanda stated flatly at the same time. Then, after only a beat of watching her friends snicker between themselves, continued on, entirely unamused, “Yes, I’m glad you’re both enjoying this.”

“Well, it’s just funny,” Carol insisted, “to imagine…just imagine a little tiny one going around calling you—”

“You know what that means, right?” Val interrupted, amusement still glittering in her eyes. “It means they heard it from a big person. Whose kid was this?”

Wanda answered, in spite of being reticent to indulge this any further. “Danielle Cage. Luke and Jessica’s daughter.”

“Oh, I bet it was the mom,” Carol stated confidently. “I thought she was giving you a vibe during the school orientation thing.”

“You think every woman named Jessica has a ‘vibe,’” Val countered.

“Not every Jessica. Though, I am still curious to know why else Drew seemed to be physically incapable of sitting in the chairs at work properly.”

“Can I get to work, now?” Wanda cut in, already stepping forward to take the bag of crafts’ supplies from Carol.

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry,” Carol apologized, handing her the plastic bag. “We’re just happy to hear other people in town know how good James has it.”

That made Wanda pause in her attempt to escape to the other room. “Wha—has what, exactly?”

Both of her friends answered simultaneously, “You.”

“Wha—no, he doesn’t!”

Valkyrie snorted. “Baby, please. What do you think it means when you spend nearly all of your free time attached at the hip? And now he’s even started meeting up with your friends and family?”

“Well, that’s…it’s just a…”

“Why are you getting all embarrassed?” Carol pressed on curiously. “That’s how relationships work.”

“And he definitely seems on-board with it,” Val added. “I mean, we’ve already established you have a great body, for one thing. It’s even got other people and their kids talking.”

“OK,” Wanda breathed bashfully, averting her gaze. “I think that’s enough of this. And I am not embarrassed.”

“Yes, you are,” Carol argued, pointing to Wanda’s face. “Look at you! You’re turning all scarlet.”

“She always turns all scarlet when it comes to him,” Val pointed out with a pleased smirk.

Their friend swatted Carol’s hand away, turning to the kitchen table where her makeshift craft station was. And hopefully hiding her face that was still, indeed, flushed red with heat.

#my stories #Bucky Barnes #Wanda Maximoff #bucky barnes x wanda maximoff #Winterwitch #scarletsoldier #Carol Danvers #Valkyrie #Billy Maximoff #Tommy Maximoff #Bucky's whole vibe this chapter is just *I'm just happy to be here* lol

[themarshmallownerd]

How did you come up with the title “Season of the Lion and Wolf”?

Whenever I look at it, my mind jumps to either “Season of the Witch” or “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” lol

It was actually inspired by a song! Specifically, "Lion and Wolf," by Thrice. It was one of the songs I would listen to a lot while mapping out the story because of its ominous, witchy vibe. And the imagery in that song of the lion and wolf competing for the narrator (in a sense) reminded me of the third act, when Pietro is at odds with Bucky over who's better at looking after Wanda, which only served to upset her.

#nerd answers #DUFE series #imagine my vindication when the MCU deemed Bucky White Wolf lol