#because I was so goddamned scared of the scary train on the cover | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multifandomhoodies · 3 years

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. Here’s a. bit of a write up on corps life.

my big number one? I wanna go back lmao. I’ve been home for a few days and I’m already to go back out there.

Anyways. I spent two months camping and working in the pacific northwest and. honestly it was the most incredible experience of my life. I was on a five person crew (four members and a lead) and of that group there were only two people that hadn’t already done a session of conservation corps either at this corps or a different one. This was my first time doing a corps! I was like. deadass shitting a brick before I left. I was so nervous to fly across the country (I’d never even flown before!) and go do something I’d never done for two months. I’ve been camping. I’ve been hiking. I’d worked outside for the last nine months and had two seasons of outdoor work in park maintenance. but this was living out of tent for TWO months. I was super excited but I was. so fucking nervous too. And god to fly? Airports seemed scary and busy and I was scared I was gonna miss a flight or not be able to find where to go. So the weeks leading up to my trip I was so goddamn nervous. But I did it lmao.

And then. corps life. We spent the first day doing orientation where I met my crew!! and then left to head to our campsite where we’d do saw training the next three days. We left the parking lot of headquarters to Colter Wall’s “The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie” and headed to an area in the Willamette National Forest. The drive there was incredible. I’d flown into Oregon the night before and really hadn’t seen much because it was 9:30 when I landed and had only taken a short lyft ride to headquarters p early in the morning so. This was kind of my first time getting to see more than the freeway of Oregon. It was so beautiful. The big ass trees and the river and the mountains were just. incredible. And then that night two of my crewmates made entirely too much spaghetti which we had for two nights. We then had to use the leftover sauce for another meal. Fun fact! We only had spaghetti once more after that. In two months. Spaghetti is usually a staple on corps. Not on Red Crew. We were scared. Also the crewmember who doled out the pasta portions for that very first dinner of too much spaghetti was banned by our crew contract from doling out grain portions. After that, we went into saw training. Three straight days of saw training and evaluations on the last day. We were starting at seven I think? Like, meeting a five minute walk away in full ppe with saws ready to go at 7am. I think I wrote that I woke up at 4:45 the one morning but honestly that may have been the jet lag. Saw training was exhausting but it was so much fun too. There was a lot of information to take in and I’d at least run a chainsaw before. There were people that hadn’t run saws before at all. On the third day of saw training, we loaded up into our rig (by the way! 2021 ford f250. super duty cab. extended bed with a truck cap. gigantic. massive. imposing. it also had no labelling. it was not marked with anything corps related. it did not even have license plates. it was probably a little intimidating when we were bass boosting driving around in that thing. but whiplash inducing bass boosting because like. notorious big to mumford and sons back to back. can you believe that we never got pulled over in driving almost 5,000 miles). anyways. we did saw evals in a burned zone. I got my bar pinched. I know what I’d do differently now but I have a lot more saw time. But I passed! My whole crew passed and are now USDA National Sawyer Certification A Class Sawyers. Or Feller 3s depending on how you wanna say it. I’m super happy because I got my first professional certification at 19. Although my card says I got it after my birthday but I did my eval before I turned 20 so I’m gonna take it.

After saw training, we went up to a suburb of Portland to. sigh. move sticks for Karens. The area we were in SCREAMED homeowners association. in the name of “fuels reduction” they had us pick up sticks and hike them down to the road. The sticks were down because the trees were dying from this shitty little park. The first week was cold and rainy and we moved sticks. We cleared out an area close to the road the first day and then the rest of the week we had to swamp (move/clear) sticks up a hill onto this narrow trail. Everyone had blisters because no one was used to walking up and down a hill all day. Carrying wet and occasionally rotting sticks. We’d hike it up the hill to the trail and then load sticks into shitty wheelbarrows and then take those down this narrow path on a steep hill when it was fully loaded with sticks. By the end of the week we were walking a good quarter/half mile to the the road with heavy wheelbarrows. It was miserable. NO one wanted to complain because it was our first project but. eventually we all came to the conclusion that it was bullshit. It had nice views tho. Still my least favorite project. Even thought it was miserable I still like. had fun??

After that we went into Washington and planted trees. We actually did this for two weeks but with another site in between. This site uh. did not have bathrooms. Learned how to use a cathole. It hailed the first time I used a cathole. That was exceptionally miserable. But we planted trees! I wasn’t a huge fan of the site our first time there but I warmed up to it. We planted over 3,000 trees in our two weeks. One of our project partners stayed out with us, which mad respect. He was so sweet. We all joked that we were a little in love with him. He wound up hanging out with us during a few of our campfires. He told us about this trip he’d taken back in college to Peru. At this site we coined the phrase “meat plate” which would stay with us until the end of session. Meat plate is dinner that is just, assorted meats that need to be gotten out of the coolers. Also on this site a crewmember got his hand in stinging nettle while taking a shit. The first week was cold. It was rainy and shitty, mostly on the weekend. We did check out the ocean though!! I’d never been to see the ocean and we took the 101 north from near the Willamette to where we were and stopped actually at Fort Stevens State Park and that’s where I got to see the ocean for the first time. In march! It was sunny but actually super nice. We all waded in and one of my crewmates jumped in. It was march. IT was cold. This is the Pacific Ocean. Anyways he’s built different. The second time at the site was a week later, and it was super pretty. It was much better weather. We planted more trees.

Third week was further in Washington like an hour drive from Olympia. This was my first time seeing snow covered mountains that were massive in the distance. We cleaned up 195 trashbags of plastic plant protectors. Also kind of a shitty project but hey. Wasn’t hiking stuff up hills so. Our partner for this had people come talk to us for educational stuff which was okay, bad, and fantastic in order lol. The partner sent people from their org to be with the speakers (who weren’t part of the org) and we told the one lady what we’d been doing and she started LAUGHING and she was like “I’m sorry they gave you that project it’s because no one else wanted to do it” thanks. it was a shitty task but our partners were so nice that it made up for it. they even got a portapotty on site for us. no but they were all super nice. oh god they’d told us not to yell/slam doors/make loud noises because there was an owl in the barn on the property. we all were loud people and kind of forgot but it was okay we didn’t scare the bird. the bird scared us. one of my crewmates got up to go pee in the middle of the night and it swooped at him. this place was great for birds. We had a very angery killdeer beep at us!! we pulled out scotchbroom from the corner of the property and every time we walked near where it must have had its nest it would very angrily beep at us. It was so cute. We all loved it. My crewlead would always yell back at it. “What!! What do you want!!” I love that lil bird. Pulling out scotchbroom was a trip. To pull out scotchbroom you should in theory be ale to use a weedwrench to pry it out. Right? No. This was old growth scotch broom. This stuff was two inches in diameter as the smallest. It wouldn’t always fit in the weedwrenches. At one point it took me, my crewlead, and a crewmate to pull a scotchbroom with as much force/bodyweight as we could put on it. A couple times my crewlead put his entire bodyweight on to it and wound up falling into blackberry lmao. There was so much blackberry there too my god. It was so painful. We all kept joking about letting our crewlead just burn the area in a prescribed burn to get rid of the invasives. In the parking lot of a different preserve from the same partner org I found a red dinosaur who became one of our crew mascots.

After our second week back planting trees, we headed back down to Oregon to work on a fuels reduction project. We were all so excited for this one. We’d gotten certed for saws at the beginning of the session and had been told that we were gonna be a saw crew doing mostly fuels reduction which our lead had specifically asked to do because he had experience with it. But this was our first real saw project with fuels reduction. The weather this week was amazing. It didn’t rain at all, which on the West side of the Cascades in Oregon in April is pretty weird. It was nice for us but Oregon was and maybe still is in a drought. yikes! anyways. this is when we went on a hike to Blue Pool in the Wilamette National Forest. We camped at a little municipal park with another crew! It was weird being around another crew again because we’d spent so long just on our own that we all starting to lose it a little. But the other crew was super nice and we played frisbee in the dark with them the first night we were in the area. The project? was amazing. We worked on private project with a conglomerate of partners in doing fuels reduction. This conglomerate of partners did a whole bunch of other stuff but we only did fuels reduction. That was a week of working in a burn zone moving sticks. Moving sticks and swamping and making sure piles were neat to be able to be chipped. We learned about dispersing and how to remove ladder fuels and where to leave small logs on the ground for ground fuel. My crewlead showed us hazard trees and took a few out. I really loved this project. I loved the “grab stick go” part of it. It was so much fun. I also got to run a lot of saw which was nice. And this property bordered a parcel of BLM land which wound up being the spot we went to go pee at. If you’ve never been West of the Mississippi river, which I hadn’t(!) you’ve never had the opportunity to be on BLM land. There is no BLM land in the East. I wanted to go on all five of big public land holders in the US and that’s the one I don’t have access to here at home. We actually wound up taking a “nature appreciation walk” because we finished our work early around this little nugget of land and it was so cool. It was right on the McKenzie river and it was beautiful. I found our second crew pet/mascot there, a large palm sized egg shaped rock named “Egg.” We were so filthy there. Four 10s in a burn zone makes ya pretty stinky when you dont get to shower. Actually, we weren’t as stinky here because we just smelled like ash. I had ash everywhere. We went out to eat after the last day and my crewlead hadn’t washed his face in four days and was completely covered in ash.

Our last project took us 8 hours back into Washington. It was a long fucking drive. We stopped at Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland tho which was incredible. We rolled into our spot in Washington at 12:40. We slept with our sleeping pads and sleeping bags under a pavilion and were woken up by a ranger the next morning who thought we were homeless or illegally camping. This last project was also kinda bullshit. We were working with the Feds who kept telling us to slow down. We were at this project site for three weeks. The first week we cleared trails of downed trees and brushcut. The second and third weeks we helped General Maintenance take down trees and did so many runs to the dumpsite. We moved a lot of sticks and logs and my arms still look super scratched from moving branches. This spot was in the high desert of Eastern Washington and it was actually super pretty. I didn’t think I’d like the desert all that much but there was definitely a beauty to it. There wasn’t shit out there other than the dam. From there tho we were able to go to Leavenworth, this funky little Bavarian themed village up near the Cascades. We also went to Lake Wenatchee, which wasn’t as fun because we had to go move a fridge for the office staff. We spent about seven and a half hours on our last weekend doing this. I’m not salty. But it was super beautiful so. It’s okay. And we passed a prescribed burn on the way back to our site.

There’s still so much more I want to write and talk about. I have to say I’m overall. just so glad I did this. I had the absolute time of my life. I have never had so much fun. I learned so much. I learned how to really put out a fire with a pulaski from my crewlead. He taught us how to use the Incident Response Pocket Guide to cross reference and look at the probability of ignition. I learned how to use a chainsaw decently well. I did a lot of things that were far beyond my comfort zone. To fly literally halfway across the country, from Ohio to Oregon, for two months and to live in a tent and work on a conservation corps, it was super beyond my comfort zone. I did things with a saw that were beyond my comfort zone and I had to trust in my ability to saw and trust in my crewlead to let me do something he felt comfortable with me doing and thought was in my capability. And it was it was so fucking cool. I really bonded with everyone on y crew too. I made some good friends. And just like. The things I was able to see and do were amazing. And it was so nice to spend so much time outside. I didn’t spend more than an hour or two at most in a building in two months. I worked in 50s and rain wearing rainpants and chainsaw chaps and I worked in the 80s and sun in chainsaw chaps. I was able to lift a full 5 gal of water (40lbs) onto my shoulder and I’m still super proud of it. I watched a ton of movies in the rig with my crewlead and one of my crewmates. I got to use my crewlead’s chainsaw which was a lot cooler, sharper, and bigger than our corps saws. I cried about trees a lot. I celebrated my 20th birthday in a state park with people I didn’t really know too well who surprised me with homemade rice crispie treats and snacks from the Chevron we were regulars for that week at. I hiked some really pretty trails. I gave a lot of hugs and got a lot of hugs. I became not as terrible at hacky sack. I realized that There Are People In My Life Who See Good Things In Me and I Just Want To Keep Making Them Proud. I realized that I’m incredibly hard on myself. This whole thing furthered my belief of goddammit if I wanna do it by god I’ll do it. It’s been a dream of mine since I was 15 to go be on a conservation corps. I got interested in corps life at 15 because of Youth Conservation Corps posting in Wayne National Forest in southern ohio and since then had just. Always wanted to do it. And that literally changed my life - because of just hearing about corps I got super into parks and researched it and was like “oh i wanna be a park ranger” and I started working at the park doing maintenance and went to school briefly for parks and rec management and then dropped out to work more in parks. but then this year, after five years of wanting to do it, I finally did a conservation corps. Not a youth corps but an adult corps. Five years! The biggest dream I had was to work on a conservation corps. I just wanted to use a pulaski on a trail once. And I did at our last project site, even just removing invasives. But just. This experience was something I’d wanted to do for so long and to finally do it and have it be as amazing as I thought was just amazing. My crewlead saw me taking pictures in Washington along the Willapa bay and was just like “corps is a slippery slope. You either hate it or you get addicted to it.” Tragically I’m addicted to it. I can’t wait until next January and March to get back out there. It was such an amazing experience and I feel like I learned a lot of really good soft skills and really good hard skills. I can’t possibly explain to anyone the full extent of what this meant to me and all the fun I had but. This is a long post and I have to go replace my phone so this will be it for now. In the off chance anyone made it this far, thanks.

#personal #ra ra rasputin #park posting

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jaideite · 5 years

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Maybe some headcanons with bakugo and a male s/o?? Most of the x readers I see with bakugo have femme s/o's so itd be a nice change in pace

Ahhh yes :))

I usually try to make my headcanons gender neutral for everyone. When I do this, I usually throw in a girl joke (like in the body swap one I cross out the text for a girl reader as it’s not needed but I added it in anyways) if that makes any sense haha. But lemme see what I can whip up hmm? ;)

BAKUGOU WITH A MALE S/O

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

— ok but him stretching makes me drool y’all see that slim ass waist

— first off

— congratulations on wriggling your way into bakugou’s mind (and not being midoriya)

— your constantly popping up in his head

— he thinks your a pretty cool boy

— props also cause to him your a really pretty boy you inconsiderate fuck

— like todoroki pretty

— second of all

— F in the chat for you cause this boy is in such denial it’s actually comical

— he is the literal definition of “if a boy messes with you it means they like you”

— he always tries to challenge you over the littlest things

— “HA, fuckin idiot! Bet you couldn’t finish all that shit!”

— “Your one to talk with all that spicy curry.”

— “Is that a challenge?!”

— “Dude I—“

— “ITS ON!”

— everytime you walk past him he just outstretches his leg and tries to trip you

— but you catch it and manage to step over it

— you can hear his teeth grinding

— he also tries to impress you

— which you find really weird because

— “I can do the same thing....”

— “Not with those whimpy noodle arms you fucking can’t.”

— “Shut the fuck up. My arms are not weak.”

— you casually flex and he feels his face heat up and that sight goes straight to his di—

— “Pick this shit up and I will, dipshit.”

— he is always rough on you with training

— he claims “You think villains will go easy on your stupid ass?! Toughen up, you dumbfuck.” y’all hear them bars

— he absolutely hates it whenever you hang out with Midoriya

— “Oi, quit hanging around that nerd.”

— “Who are you to tell me who I can hang out with?”

— “I don’t wanna hear both of you muttering later on, you fuck!”

— eventually you start to pick up on it

— the way he always cooks your favorite meal and makes sure your eating properly

— he always makes sure to make sure you don’t overdo yourself during training

— he even personally offered to train you and you ????

— he yelled in your face and said “I WANNA MAKE SURE I BEAT YOUR ASS WHEN I BECOME NUMBER ONE YOU HEAR?!”

— “...Not with you yelling in my ear I can’t you fuck.”

— Since your boys you guys get away with breaking curfew

— this is how you’ve gotten closer tbh

— you besides the bakusquad are like the only people who have been in his room

— slowly yall get closer n closer

— you got invited to go to the movies once with the Bakusquad

— and it was a scary movie

— “Kaminari you’re a genius.”

— “I know. Wanna see me stick this metal fork in a socket?”

— “I take it back. Your a fucking idiot.”

— but anyways so they all plan it so you don’t have a choice but to sit next to bakugou

— and you have no problem with that

— y’all have been getting closer together

— so you sit together and the movie starts and it’s alright until one of the first jumpscares

— he looks over to you and you just ( 0-0 )

— “Oi, fucknut, you alright?”

— “Yeah man I’m fine.”

— “Oh.”

— so it’s quiet until another jumpscare comes on and you immediately grab his hand and he

— oop full on gay panic

— the squad isn’t even paying attention to the movie their just recording bakugou in his gay panic

— he’s arguing with his mind

— “holdinghandsholdinghandsholdinghands”

— “Doesnt holding hands lead to pregnancy?”

— “You idiot y/n has a dick. That’s for girls, and you made it clear you don’t like girls.”

— “So then what the hell does holding hands with a guy lead to???”

— his mind goes blank for a second and then

— “Gay se—“

— “LET GO OF MY FUCKING HAND IDIOT!” He starts annoyed

— the whole theatre just “SHHHHH”

— so you just whisper a sorry and continue

— and his gay panic is over with for now lol

— and then like thirty minutes later you grab his arm to cover your eyes

— and oh boy his mind just goes completely blank man

— you guys know that scene in spongebob where he makes the Krusty Krab look nice for squidward and then I think they ask for a name and Spongebob’s brain is scrambling for a name

— that’s an accurate representation of his mind right now

— eventually the movies over and you guys make your way back to the dorms.

— and you say goodbye to everyone as you guys make your way up to your rooms

— “You were holding my hand during the movie.” He blurts out. You just turn to him and “HMm?”

— he rolls his eyes. “You were holding my hand. Are you seriously that scared of horror movies?”

— “Actually the movie was pretty good, not gonna lie. I think the plot was pretty interesting.”

— “You were hiding behind my goddamn arm, fucknut?”

— “Oh yeah. Your hands are nice to hold, despite them being really sweaty. I’d like to do it again.”

— he kind of just pauses and ‘hUh’

— “So you WERENT sCARED?!? YOU JUST WANTED TO HOLD MY SWEATY ASS HAND?!”

— “Uh...yeah...I hope you don’t mind that. I had already seen the movie but when I heard you were going I wanted to go with you...I really like spending time with you.”

— well this explains you putting his hand over your eyes three seconds before that one horrifying scene

— hes gonna go into another gay panic

— you wanted to spend time with him??

— but he always teases you and beats you up??

— you... you like that ???

— he—I—whaa???

— “Y-You like spending time with me??” He croaks

— you keep rubbing your neck and chuckling nervously and oop your blushing in the dimly lit hallway “Yeah...in fact I like you...a lot...like in that way...”

— man he is just all kinds of confused

— you like him???

— like that??

— like they way he’s been thinking about you for the past couple of weeks

— you can’t get him out of your head like him

— oh

— oh fuck you

— he’s confused when you get this hurt look over your face “If your not into guys you could just tell me...no need to be harsh...”

— “No, fuck, it’s not that it’s just...”

— he takes a deep breath and grinds his teeth and he can smell the caramel in the air

— “I want to punch you...in the face...with my lips...and strangle you gently...with my arms...”

— you stare at him and blink before saying

— “You...you mean...you wanna make out?”

— that

— that’s...

— not what he was going for but he’ll take it

— like hell hes gonna pass up the chance to kiss your handsome face

— he just stupidly “uh huh’s” and stands there

— you kind of just grin softly and cup his face in your hands

— “Katsuki Bakugou...I’m going to kiss you now...”

— “Uh hUh.”

— “Please do not blow me up.”

— he blinks cause whaa—

— oh shit your lips are on his

— oh shit your kissing him

— oh shit kISS BACK YOU DUMMY—

— all of a sudden he’s just kissing you and it’s great

— your lips are somewhere in between chapped and soft for and for a guy your a great kisser

— him uh not so much so he’s kind of lost as he grips your jacket face flustered

— eventually you pull away and then laugh

— “You are a terrible kisser.”

— he wants to blow up your flustered handsome face but instead he just

— “W-why don’t we go in my room and you teach me how to kiss better?”

— you blink at him

— “There is no way you are that smooth, dude.”

— “sHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET IN MY ROOM SO WE CAN MAKE OUT!”

— he pulls the door open and yanks you inside

— poor kirishima can’t sleep cause he can legit hear all that nsfw ness going on cause we know those walls ain’t shit oop

#bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #boku no hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero imagines #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #my hero academia

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thebonggirll · 5 years

Text

Chapter 11 - Unity

Chapter 10

"You guys do realize something, right?" Y/N said attacking a villain near her.

"Sorry Y/N, but we don't really-" Kyoka smacked a guy with a metal made with the help of creation quirk of Momo and continued saying, "have the time to realize when these villains keep coming at us."

"That villain near the exit said that All Might was supposed to be here. That means they know our schedule - probably when the chaos broke out in U.A. and the teachers were busy handling the reporters while we were stuck in the cafeteria. This was a well thought out plan. And if they expected All Might to be here, then that means they are here to kill All Might." Y/N said, "But something doesn't fit right in here."

"Stop yapping little girl." A villain said advancing towards her, his hands covered with sharp thorns. Y/N dodged his attack just in time, although she got a bit of scratch on her cheek as it started bleeding.

The villains started attacking faster. While the three girls were attacking them, Kaminari kept dodging the attacks and screaming at the mean time.

"If they put me together with Kaminari, that means that the villains have no information on the quirks of the students. Anyways, I do have an attack that can drown them but I don't really have control over it. But I can slow them down or make them unconscious. But the problem is I have limited power to use my water quirk with no water around this mountain zone. Also, you guys have to take shelter for that. I don't really have much control over it once I release it. With the villains surrounding us, you can't really get out of here." Y/N said.

"Hey! We gotta take down the water girl first. Seems like she's got the offensive style." One of them shouted as they moved collectively towards Y/N.

"Ugh not again. Water blades!" Y/N said using her quirk in a style where her water moves at an extreme high speed, enough to cut and bleed. She wasn't sure if this was the right move as the villains were more cautious now.

"Wow that was cool but a bit harsh." Kyoka said smacking a villain away.

"Oh I'm sorry but am I supposed to beat them gently ma'am? Please do explain." Y/N sneered.

"We don't have time for your sarcasm!" Kyoka shouted, frowning.

"These are just low level thugs. If you didn't notice, there are only three or four dangerous villains. That's what's bugging me. These thugs are just pawns. What is their actual plan?" Y/N said.

"We don't have time for that crap!" Kyoka said as Kaminari came running towards them yelling about how his life flashed before his eyes. Kyoka shouted at him, her head messed up from all the information, saying, "Could you maybe take it down a few notches? Right now we need to focus on getting away from these enemies."

"Then pull out a weapon for me too!" Kaminari said nervously.

"You're the one with electrical power, just zap them so we can run." Kyoka argued back.

"Were you not paying attention during combat training?! Some partner you were. I can cover my body with electricity, but if I tried to shoot it out, it will go everywhere. I'll take you guys down along with them, or did you want shock treatment today?!" Kaminari explained, "I can't even call for help because there's still interference jamming the signals. I'm counting on you three!"

"Hey, water is a good conductor electricity you know. How about we work together on wiping out these villains? You can just use only a little bit of your electricity."

"Didn't you hear-" He got interrupted as one villain attacked him and Kyoka kicked him towards the villain. But instead of getting everyone electrocuted, he actually had the quirk on control. "Woah, hey this is working!"

"You're lucky that worked out so well." Momo said catching a villain with a net.

"I'm sorry, next time I'll ask before saving our ass!" Kyoka replied back.

"How cool is that just a few moments ago you said no one had time for my sarcasm Kyoka! Anyways Momo, try to make something that we can take cover with. Kyoka defend her for the time being. Kaminari, if you can handle electricity, then you can be on the ground, but I'll get under cover as soon as I let the water out. We have to work on this with unity." Y/N said nervously, but a smirk on her face, "Let's do a trial on being a pro hero."

"It took me a bit longer, to create an object this big!" Momo said, creating a sheet of insulation - 100 meters thick.

"Hold on to me!" Y/N quickly blasted some water below her and jumped up to a higher level on the mountain with Kyoka and Momo clinging onto her. While the girls took cover, Y/N crawled up to a safe distance and created a flood, huge amount of water started gushing out of her hands, although the water slowly started falling down the mountains. She knew it was taking time when the villains started moving towards them, and away from the water. She decided to use more of her quirk when she started using both of her arms and body as well. The waterfall was enough to stall down the villains as it damaged some of their suits and some of them were having a hard time moving forward towards them in it. As soon as the villains got busy, Y/N signaled, "NOW KAMINARI!"

"Heh," Kaminari smirked, "badass. Now I don't have to worry about hurting my friends anymore." He electrocuted the whole area as the villains dropped on the ground. They were soaked in water and by the amount of electricity Kaminari used, they should be down for quite some time. But unfortunately, he used his power over the limit and as expected, he was acting like an idiot for a while. He started babbling nonsense.

"Now that this is done, I'll go towards the exit for helping others. That mist villain is still there. Take care of Kaminari at the moment." Y/N said and slid off towards the exit fast using her water quirk.

As she came out of the mountain zone, she noticed Aizawa fighting the villains in the central zone. "Where is the goddamn water zone?" And noticing further towards the west, she noticed the water body in the flood zone and three familiar faces peeking. "How do I exactly go there without anyone noticing me?"

Aizawa looked tired, his elbow was destroyed and before she realized, a monster with his brain visible outside started beating him. It was incredibly hard to watch a hero Y/N admired, even as just a person, getting thrashed violently by some monster like that. His hands were twisted and bones were being broken like twigs by the monster. Y/N wasn't scared of blood but at the moment, watching her favorite teacher bleed like that in front of her, when she couldn't do anything about it, was scary.

She wasn't ready to waste her time just yet. As soon as she saw the villains distracted, she slid towards the water body, not caring about whether she gets discovered like this or not.

But Y/N was a bit late.

The weird villain with hand like things covering his body moved towards Tsuyu so fast, she didn't even notice him there. Y/N didn't know what quirk the villain had but it had to be dangerous as he looked like the leader of whatever happened here. His hand moved towards Tsuyu's face but stopped just when it was about to touch her face.

"You really are so cool." The villain chuckled looking back at Aizawa who was using his quirk to erase the villain's quirk. But the monster beat his head down on the ground again, and it looked like Aizawa wasn't going to get up anytime soon.

The next moment, out of his instincts, Midoriya landed a punch using his quirk towards the villain. But the monster came in between, and it had no impact on it. Not even a single scratch.

Y/N was about to use her water quirk to her advantage now that she was in the water body. But ofcourse, the monster wasn't gonna budge and she could only move them the moment Tsuyu grabs Midoriya out of the monster's hand and use her quirk to manipulate into making the water flow towards her direction - to the right and get them out of the situation.

But it wasn't needed as a hopeful voice boomed inside U.S.J.

"Have no fear students. I am here." But this time All Might didn't have his usual smile on. He looked mad.

All Might- the strongest hero in the whole world - was mad.

Chapter 12

SEASON - I

Ignite

MASTERLIST

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha katsuki #bnha #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines

74 notes · View notes

life-of-ice · 4 years

Text

A quiet, quiet day

Masaki Sako wins!

After hearing Wolfsboon’s gravelly voice from the speakers, he took the opportunity to get some much needed rest, plopping down on the ground with his legs splayed and his arms supporting him. He internally cheered that he won, the feathered boy rather proud of the plan he had made up on the fly. He’d have to adjust it a little bit so people didn’t get electrocuted as badly, and he didn’t have a way to power it himself. But that was a thought for another time, he felt just a little bit too gross to be working on another plan right now.

The feathered boy furiously rubbed his tearing eyes as he sat up in alarm when he heard a goddamn building go down…. probably because of Takakutou, when waves of nausea overwhelmed him, and he slumped back down, now flat on the ground, his arm thrown over his face.

Sako had figured something like this was going to happen eventually, considering how much cursing he had heard through the radio from Takakutou until her mic finally cut out. The teachers had apparently forgotten to turn off the mics connected to the speakers from the viewing room, and Sako chuckled at “Shaved 5 years off my life,” because honestly, that was an entire mood.

With Sako’s eyes closed, he could hear so much more, and he heard… cawing. A strange sound, something that wouldn’t normally be there in a fake urban city, the students normally scared off any and all wildlife really quickly. Then voices from the speakers rang out and Sako’s eyes snapped open, still watering, squinting against the sunlight. This was an emergency. “1-B, get out of here!” said Wolfsboon sternly, unable to completely veil the panic in his voice.

“1-A? Kids?” cried Aurora anxiously.

Lackadaisy spoke with calm authority, as she delivered her instructions. “All students, please evacuate to the train station immediately. Follow your teachers' instructions.”

Sako pushed himself off the ground, shaking his head to get rid of any lingering tiredness or dizziness. He.. couldn’t quite see where he was supposed to be going but he could tell a lot of people were moving in that direction, so he followed the best he could, finally catching up to the tail end of the group, the other kids chatting quietly, and he was pretty sure that was Takakutou itching for a fight over there, but it just as well be one of the others too.

Buckskin was waiting for them at the train station, his face pinched and tight. He cleared his throat to catch their attention, and when he did. He spoke. “I’m afraid our train is out of commission right now, and we will need to be walking through the tunnels to get to a safe area. Lackadaisy-”

BOOM!

A muffled boom was heard from behind them, a wave of earth rippling across the city. It might’ve been Lackadaisy, or it could have been the villain. No one knew.

Sako flinched minorly, and moved closer to the center of the group. That wasn’t something he wanted to deal with anytime soon.

The deer man cleared his throat, looking more worried than before. “Lackadaisy is holding them off, we need to be going as soon as possible.” The deer man scanned the crowd, doing a headcount, while their homeroom teachers came up behind them.

“We have everyone. Let’s go.” said Wolfsboon, his face twisted with worry.

Takakutou exploded. “What? Why are we leaving? We can help fight the villains!”

Buckskin sighed. “Lackadaisy has it handled, none of you are qualified to fight villains.”

“But-”

Ozen had come up behind her, and covered her mouth with a hand. Takakutou tried to shake her off, but it was unfortunately not possible, the teallette standing firm.

“I’ve got her. Let’s go-”

Boom!”

“Before anything else collapses.” Ozen led the way into the tunnel, her posture rigid and strong, before she paused, and the teachers went ahead of her. She waited until the rest of the students began streaming in, and situated herself in the middle of the crowd, a beacon of teal within the students.

Before he entered, Wolfsboon made his signature Lupins, and after assessing the injuries, he told Koatsu and Senshi to get on, both of whom had suffered major injuries in the matches, with glass sticking out of Senshi’s side, and Koatsu having broken both legs again.

“I don’t need to get on! I healed myself see- ” he protested, before Wolfsboon picked him up and plopped him onto one of the Lupins. “Hey!” Senshi melted into the Lupin, looking woozy.

Koatsu made a little patch of healing flame, which Sako quickly ran over to, but refrained from touching, scolding himself that there were others who needed it more, and they would enjoy it more than him, he was sure. Sugiyama, Yameru, and Moya all stepped into the flames, their bruised and broken bodies getting healed to a point, and so they were good enough to travel.

Sako stumbled as he followed the group, his head getting lighter and lighter, and like before, he shook it off and walked at the end of the group behind Lyrimon, as recognizable as ever even barely seeing her silhouette. As they left the entrance of the tunnel behind them it got darker and darker and darker, until soon, it was completely pitch black.

BOOM!

Every few minutes, the bombs went off again, muffled by the earth around them, and everyone froze for a moment.

Thump!

Sako watched as Senshi fell off the wolf they were riding on, the wound in their side reopening when they hit the ground. There was a steadily increasing pool of blood, and Wolfsboon cursed as he ran over with medical supplies, quickly wrapping up the wound. Ogura had come forward and conversed quietly with Buckskin as this happened. Whatever it was, Buckskin had seemed reluctant to let her do it, but Ogura had insisted.

And suddenly, there was one less lupin, and three less people. Ogura had teleported ahead with Unbreakable and Senshi, hopefully giving Senshi a better chance of not dying.

Now wasn’t that a scary thought.

Sako hurried ahead a little bit, catching up to Sugiyama and Lyrimon. He was at the very end of the group and didn’t want to get left behind.

BOOM!

Left, right, left, right. On and on and on and on-

Boom!

That last boom had shattered whatever serenity that Sako had been able to get from his repetition. He wanted comfort. He wanted to feel safe, if he just- a little one, the size of a candle flame. Surely it wouldn’t cause any harm?

He reached up to his eyes and touched, envisioning the soft orange and yellow light, the searing of his fingertips, it would be wonderful-

Sako shakily lowered his hand, clutching his wrist with his other hand, preventing the activation of his quirk. He shook his head. No fire. No fire. If he did that, he might kill everyone, kill himself, and- But it would make everyone feel better right? It’s so comfy, and warm, and bright, and it's dark and cold and unnerving down here.

Just do it.

He couldn’t- he said- he said- he can’t, he’ll kill everyone. They should rejoice in it too, but it wouldn’t keep them safe, not like it keeps him safe. He clutched his wrist harder he shouldn’t-

“Masaki, are you doing alright?”

Masaki looked up, startled at seeing Aurora. “Yes, I’m doing fine.”

She smiled at him, and patted his shoulder comfortingly. “That’s good. We still have a ways to go, but don’t worry. We’ll be just fine!”

“Yeah.” he replies distractedly.

“I’ll be coming around to make sure you’re all okay, so make sure you stay with the group, and I’ll see you later!” She ruffled his hair once more, and walked off humming a soft, cheerful song, her energy a beacon of light in the dreariness of their journey. It was good to have her.

Sako dully observed the sounds and sights around him, the kids quietly chattering, some holding hands, some off in their own heads, like him. Someone might have collapsed, but whoever it was was quickly helped onto a lumin, and so the consequence was not too huge. But the noise soon tapered off as the hours went by, everyone getting more and more tired until the sound of footsteps was the only thing that remained. It’s not like there was much light either, the few who glowed and the singular bright beam of light were blurry to him, and what else did he need to see except the path ahead of him?

“Dude, why’d you stop?”

All attention suddenly turned to Zeke, who was apologizing to Otsuka, as he had suddenly come to a stop.

“Ah, sorry Otsuka! I was just… Why are we walking next to a lethally electrified railroad?”

People started tittering at this new development with gasps and exclamations, while Aurora and Wolfsboon settled everyone down.

“We didn’t want to worry you guys. None of you were anywhere near it, and we didn’t feel a need to bring it up.”

“Except, y’know, that it might kill us isn’t a good enough reason?”

Wolfsboon sighed. The teachers were sighing a lot today, Sako noted. “We thought you guys would fare better traveling if you didn’t have another thing to add to the stressors we already had to deal with today. All of you were clumped together, and unless someone suddenly ran at the wall, even then, you might not have stepped on the rail. We’re sorry.”

Indeed, that seemed like a good enough reason to Sako, as the more skittish of their classes were going pale, and trembling at the very idea of it. But they continued on, working their way forwards.

Forwards. Forever and ever it seemed, they walked. And walked. And walked, the only changes were when Aurora came around to check on everyone, the soft humming of her song soothing them all.

There was a loud splat, and Sako watched as Lyrimon’s… arm came off, the one with the claw. She began slowly and steadily melting, cursing all the while Fuck, fuck, fuck, now is too soon we need to make it to end you stupid body- while Sugiyama stood to the side helplessly. Indeed, all of them were standing there helplessly, Aurora hurrying over to Lyrimon, before her head melted off, to quickly discuss what they could do. Their conversation was peppered with sounds of splats as her limbs disattached until she was mostly just a torso and a head, her extremities and her eyes quickly disappearing. A few with weaker stomachs retched, and Sako might have done the same if he hadn’t seen worse. They talked about maybe attaching her to a rock or something, Lyrimon managed a garbled plan before she completely melted into that pile of red oatmeal. As her head disappeared, everyone backed away as the goop started expanding to almost double in size, before it hardened with a solid shell around the outside.

Buckskin, Sheriff, and Ozen were going to stay behind, as they were some of the fastest among them, so when Lyrimon got out of her cocoon, the four of them would sprint their way to the end of the tunnels.

Four more gone. Quieter now. Hours had passed by now, he thinks. But he couldn’t be quite sure, the hours were blending into each other. Aurora had come around once more, and Sako could see her mouth moving, but he couldn’t tell what she was saying, and he couldn’t respond, his tongue was too heavy in his mouth and he couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t think. A simple gray haze was all he knew, dizziness and nausea and lethargy overwhelming him.

He had stopped moving, and there was a hand touching his shoulder. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, but it wasn’t enough this time. In fact, it made it worse, the slight glows of the people ahead of him swam in and out of his vision. Suddenly, he felt warm, so warm compared to the cold of the tunnel, and he basked in it for a moment, then the waves of dizziness hit him, causing him to struggle to stand and get his bearings, then grey overtook him. The feathered boy slumps bonelessly. This was going to be one of the harder falls from a fainting spell, he could tell.

Instead of waking up with a crash from when he hit the ground, he awoke in a much more gentle manner, lying on hard concrete with something soft tucked underneath his head. Aurora’s face was in view, looking worried.

“Hey Masaki. Are you doing okay? You fainted.. Again, from what I heard from Gakusa and Kemuri. Anyway, we can address that problem a little bit later.” She glanced up to Wolfsboon. If she left, he would be the only other authority figure except their nurse, and really, the nurse was younger then the students. “I’m sorry Masaki, but we really need to go. I can carry you for a little bit, okay?”

He blearily opened his eyes, and soon he was being princess carried towards the front of the crowd. Sugiyama had come running up demanding to help, and Aurora had relented. Sako piggy backed off her, and slowly recovered, closing his eyes.

There were whispers, just like the times other things had happened.

“Masaki looks so small…..”

“Don’t say that! He’s going to jump up and fight you or something.”

“Seriously, he’s super skinny. Y'know when he fell, Aurora had fretted over him being so light, even for someone of his height.”

“I told him not to overdo it. Why is he even doing this if it hurts him so badly? If it makes him fucking faint? If- If he can barely see?”

“Gakutori-nii, calm down.”

“He needs to stop, Tokachi. He’ll- hurt himself irreparably one of these days.”

“Like that one time he fell off my cloud… Gakusa’s right, his quirk is killing him.”

Sako scowled minutely at those assessments, he was doing just fine and he passed out from exhaustion.

The feathered boy wakes up, on the ground once more. This time, he had time to realize what was under his head. It was Wolfsboon’s scarf shawl thing, and everyone was sitting down, leaning against the wall or each other. They were still in the tunnel, but ahead of them, was the other end of the train station, with Buckskin talking on the phone, confirming a bus.

Everyone was exhausted, and most of the kids were sleeping, with the teachers vigilantly watching over them.

“Almost there guys, just a few more minutes, and then the bus will be here.”

Sako rubbed his eyes, but didn’t get up. “Is everyone okay?”

A few people turned to him, but it was Sugiyama that replied. “Yeah, everyone should be okay. Senshi went to the hospital, and Lyrimon, Ozen, and Sheriff arrived a few minutes ago. And Buckskin’s over there. So yeah, as good as we’re going to get.”

Sako frowned. “How long did I sleep?”

“Just two or three hours! Not too long!”

Sako started sputtering, and he pushed himself up. “What? You carried me for a few hours? You should have just dropped me or woken me up or something, you didn’t need to do that!”

Sugiyama poked him in the forehead, effectively shutting him up. “You looked pretty comfy, and besides, I’m pretty strong, and you weigh basically nothing. It all worked out.” She said this, but Sako took note of the slump of her shoulders, and frowned accordingly.

“Ah.. I guess so. Thank you.”

The two chatted some more as they waited for the bus to arrive, aimless little things, their favorite foods, little things like that.

“Hey Sugiyama, how do you know Lyrimon? You said today was your first day, right?” He had been wondering about that for a while.

“Yeah, today was my first day! She’s my sister. So I would hope I know her pretty well.”

They don’t have the same last name, Sako thought, but it wasn't like he wanted to open a can of worms right now. Maybe it was like with Gakusa and Tokachi. “That’s cool. It must be nice to have siblings, huh?”

Sugiyama opened her mouth to reply, when the bus arrived. “I guess our ride is here. Come on, let’s go.” She offered a hand to Sako, and he took it, pulling himself up. “Let’s sit together, okay?”

He smiled. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Everyone settles onto the bus, the teachers situated in the back to keep a watch out presumably. Lyrimon grabbed a seat as soon as possible, tired from having to sprint all the way back to the end of the tunnel. Sugiyama slid in after her, and Sako did the same shortly after. They were big seats, so there was room for everyone, even with all of Lyrimon’s extra limbs.

“‘Kay. I just spent the last hour sprinting, so we’re going to be playing Uno, got it?”

Sako smiled. Finally, someone he could understand. “ Hell yeah, let’s go.”

Sugiyama nodded, fidgeting with the tear in her shirt.

Lyrimon grinned fiercely, and swiftly dealt out cards for a brutal, backstabbing game of Uno. Their worries were lost in the cards as they played, but even as Sako and Lyrimon hyped each other up, Sugiyama appeared to get more and more tired until she finally folded.

“Okay, I need a break for a little bit. I’m folding.”

“No worries!” said Sako, “You’re good.”

The two kept playing, shouting and cursing somewhat loudly as they went.

“BITCH! WHERE’D YOU PULL ALL THOSE SKIPS FROM?”

“I DUNNO, BUT IM WINNING SO IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER!”

Sako was having a lot of fun, but as the game ended and Lyrimon was packing up the cards, he noticed Sugiyama picking at her clothes frantically. Specifically at the tear. He turned to her and asked, “Sugiyama, you need some help with that?”

Sugiyama looked up at him. “Yeah, that would be nice. I can sew it up, I just don’t have anything to work with.”

“Here I can help with that!” “Wait-” He began tapping his eye and activating his quirk, making a needle and cotton thread.

Lyrimon looked at him disapprovingly. “Sako, that was pretty fucking dumb of you. Stop using your quirk, you’re going to faint again or something.”

Sako waved her off dismissively. “One time out of many. I wasn’t even using my quirk.”

“Tsubame carried you.”

“It’s not like I had a choice. “

“Don’t be so fucking stupid. Your quirk is eating you alive. Remind me, I’ll stab you someday, the nutrient syringes are still in my room. You fucking faint a few times a week, that’s not normal, even if it was just from your quirk.”

“Like you can talk, you’re in pain, what, 93% of the time? You-”

Sugiyama cut in silently, taking the needle and thread from Sako. “Stop it. Both of you are stupid.”

“-And it’s not like I can take it back now. So there.” finished Sako smugly.

Sugiyama was struggling to get the needle through the fabric due to the awkward angle, and where the tear was located.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He reached over and took the threaded needle.

She turns slightly. “You know how to sew?”

“Yeah,” he said, pushing the needle through the thick fabric. “I like to sew a lot, clothing mostly.”

Her voice lights up. “Nice! I’m better at embroidery myself, but clothing is really fun. Like skirts and stuff.”

He quickly pushes the needle in and out, a smooth, practiced motion. “I like skirts, they’re a lot easier than making pants, at least for me anyway. It’s hard to make a skirt look bad. I made a bunch of things for Lyrimon recently, right?”

The two looked over to Lyrimon, but she was fast asleep.

“Well anyway, I made her some tank tops that have snaps up and down the seams for her mutations.’

Sugiyama nodded approvingly. “Mutation quirks are hard to adjust for, but that’s really clever! I had to do something like that too, once, I had to adjust a hat design for ox horns.”

Sako stuck his tongue out a little as he knotted the final stitch. “That’s really cool! Have you ever tried making….”

The two talked thoroughly about their various sewing adventures, Sako regaling her with tales about the time he tried to make a sleeve for the first time, and Sugiyama sharing her love of wolves, and described her embroidery to him.

The two were interrupted by a certain someone coming over.

“Masaki! How you doing?” It was Funkee, who had come down the aisle from the front of the bus, waving. Sugiyama had gone completely still, Masaki observed.

“Funkee! Nice to see you, I’m doing well. What cha doing back here?” He shifted slightly to be a little more in front of Sugiyama, not that it changed much when he was so short.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He said. “I thought you had an illusion quirk? But if you did, how’d you shock the cloud girl? There’s no way electricity can go through an illusion, even if you’re able to make the illusion feel real.. Right?”

Sako stifled a laugh. “No, no. You definitely got it the first time, I have an illusion quirk.”

“Electricity doesn’t work that way Masaki.”

He laughed harder, and put up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, not exactly an illusion quirk, but not that far off either. It’s a surprise, so you’ll have to find out on your own.”

Funkee looked confused, but he backed off a little. “Alright. If you say so. I thought I got everyone’s quirks pretty down pat. Like Tokachi’s a bunny that can turn into a human, right? And… Yasashii has some kind of mental quirk, right? Maybe some kind of berserker mode? There has to be a good reason they jumped out that window right?”

Sako pressed his lips tightly together to smother a smile, and pretended to busy himself with making a small pair of scissors to trim the thread coming off of Sugiyama’s shirt. “Yup! You got it! It’s just.. Don’t be surprised if they react weirdly to you guessing their quirks. Some people do that sometimes.”

“Um. Okay then Masaki, I’ll talk to you later then?” asked Funkee.

“Yeah! See you around!” replied Sako.

As soon as Funkee was as out of earshot as he was going to get, Sako dissolved into chuckles, eliciting confusion from Sugiyama. “Why are you laughing? If he was right?”

“I told him that I had an illusion quirk,” he choked out between wheezes, “and he still believes me, oh my gosh, and he was so far off with all of the other guesses he made.”

She looked just as confused as Funkee did, but ended up shrugging.

“I know I seem crazy but that’s really amusing. Really! Anyway, I wonder where we’re going.”

The two glanced out the window over the sleeping Lyrimon. “Damn. They took us to U.A.”

Everyone started loading off the bus. There was a figure in front of the door. “Lackadaisy! You’re okay!”

“I sure am!” and indeed, she looked almost perfectly fine, except for her hair being a bit messed up, and a scratch on her cheek. “Hey Principal, mind letting us in?”

A voice came from the other side of the intercom. “Yeah, yeah, hold on.”

Buckskin turned to the crowd of students. “Now kids, we’re guests here, I want you to treat U.A. and its facilities with your utmost respect. Don’t destroy anything, don’t antagonize the students, and if anything goes wrong, get one of us. Don’t try to fix it yourself.”

A gruff, familiar voice came from the now open gate. “Don’t worry Buck, they can’t be any worse then the hell class was.” He addressed the students with a slightly manic looking smile. “Welcome to U.A., Taiyuu students.”

Lots of people started chattering, after all, UA was a much more famous school then Taiyuu certainly. Sometimes during that, Aizawa began leading the group to the extra dorms.

Sako was surprised at the fact they even had extra dorms, it was a little strange, and seemed like a waste of money, but he stayed quiet. Our classes are so small compared to UA’s. Our entire school fits into a dorm meant for one class, he thought.

“Keep in mind that there a few of you will have to double up in the dorms to fit, these were made for a class of 20 people. “

As soon as Aizawa finished speaking, Sako immediately went ahead of the group to grab a room for himself. He opened the door, and shut it quickly and quietly. He rubbed his eyes, his contacts had fallen out sometime during the walk through the tunnels, it was very, very hard to see anything at the moment. So instead, he resolved to flop down on the bed and die for a little bit. He sat straight up as there was a knock on his door. He grumbled, but made it over to the door and cracked it open, revealing one Sugiyama.

She smiled as he opened the door and waved. "Masaki! Hi! Didn't mean to bother you, but I wanted to ask about the stitches?" She points at her sleeve where the tear, now newly reopened was located.

He blinked and took a moment to process. "Oh yeah, it's uh. Just my quirk. Doesn't last forever, just a temporary sort of thing. Sorry about that."

The pinkette nodded and sighed. "It's fine. I never would have expected that! Anyway, the other reason I came down here was to ask if you wanted to come join the sleepover downstairs? We managed to get everyone to come. Or most everyone, I think."

Masaki hesitated. "I guess so? I… yeah. I'll come."

"Great! Grab a pillow and some sheets, we're in the common room."

She left, and he headed back into the room to grab some stuff. It was going to be nice to be around people again, even if he just spent the last couple hours with them straight. It was going to be more peaceful, more chill. It would be nice.

It was odd for him. Going to this school and participating in all these spars meant it wasn't practical to have his wings up all the time. They were lightweight, but. Always so heavy, always such a burden. Lately, without them…. It's been light. Freeing almost, not having to keep them up. Not having to endure any stares from wonderful "high society" about how he wasn't quite refined enough, or where he got all those odd burn markings from.

It was nice.

He shook himself off from those thoughts and gathered his things. Not good to stay in one place for too long, lest he sink back into a stew of thoughts.

Downstairs, there was a whole thing going on, everyone gathered in little groups, much more subdued than usual. They spoke in low murmurs, and it appeared that they had already gained permission to have the sleepover, because the teachers were gone.

Sako himself didn't say anything, didn't want to break the level of noise they were at. Instead he simply curled up near the base of the small couch. It was comfortable with his back to the wall and a low hum of noise taking over his thoughts. And comforted, he drifted off..

Sako wakes up, disoriented. He quickly swivels around to look, and oh. He's at the U.A. dorms, right. Glancing through the room, it appears that everyone is still here based on the number of colorful blobs in his sight. He sits up, wincing at the stiffness from sleeping on the floor and from his scars. He stretches his joints carefully, hoping that it will be flexible enough for him to move throughout the day, and for their spar later in the morning. He feels around for his glasses and well.. Nothing. Because his glasses are back in the dorms at Taiyuu. Just his shitty luck, wonderful. So no sight, and painful moving for a solid three days. Nice.

He slaps himself lightly, and moves out of his pile on the floor, as quietly as possible. He gets to the kitchen where an exhausted looking Yasashii is sitting, and nods to him. Yasashii, holding a mug of coffee waves back, and Sako moves on to the fridge to get something to eat. He squints to see the contents of the container… and there's just enough ingredients for miso soup in there, along with a bag of rice sitting by the door.

Grabbing the ingredients, he sets out to make enough soup and rice for his classmates. After a few minutes of prep, and several minutes of waiting for everything to cook, he makes a ladle with his quirk, and pours some into a bowl he found, filling it with both rice and soup. He hears people coming in and curses, finishing the rest of his food quickly, before heading out to get ready for the day.

"Ow!"

And oops, looks like someone picked up his fabricated ladle. Whoops.

Wolfsboon and Aurora were telling the remaining students to make sure everyone knew that they had to clean up before they left for class in the morning, and that there were parents there to deliver clothing and food.

Some of the kids quickly popped out of the kitchen or the commons to run to the door, coming back inside after a moment with fresh clothes and bags. Otsuka was coming around with goodie bags her mother had made, and as soon as Sako accepted it, he slipped inside his room to take a small break.

He took a deep breath. One, two. One, two. And then he slipped back out of his room and joined the crowd heading out to Gym Gamma, where Aizawa introduced them to the area, recounting a story of his hell class. Sako only really snapped to attention when his teachers said, something something "-present for you!"

And lo and behold, behind the teachers were piles of cases, their hero costumes. Sako himself felt vaguely uncomfortable with the idea. He didn't have any idea of what he wanted with his costume. Hopefully it would look okay.

They headed out to the locker rooms, and he pulled out the various parts of his costume. Loose, baggy pants with ombre green and pink feathers on the sides of the legs. A black cropped tank top, with three circles like bullseyes on his chest. And these light, reinforced plastic metal sleeves, strangely heavy, weighed down by bits of materials on the inside. Different metals, woods, glasses, and plastics made up the inside in little squares. The outsides made him look like a robot, all grey metal and colored veins going up and down the sleeves.

The best part of his costume was the shooter on his hand. A round metal contraption, that could shoot objects in the shape of a disk. Best of all, he could make his own projectiles.

He headed back out, his opponent already on the mat.

"Hey Masaki! How ya doing?" Called Kottoba.

"Im doing just fine!" He called back. "These hero costumes are pretty cool, yeah?"

"Definitely! They're dope as hell! Look at this big ass speaker i have!"

She gestured wildly at her speaker, and Aurora began counting down for their spars.

"3… 2…. 1…. Go!"

Masaki fabricated earplugs in his ears, blocking out whatever insult Kottoba was about to have him hear.

But of course, ear plugs arent perfect, and sound still came through them, especially with the aforementioned big ass speaker doing most of the work for her.

"-never going to grow!"

He winced slightly. Come on guys, it's getting old being insulted for his height.

She frowns for a moment, and tries again, but Sako's already running at her, unable to hear her over the pounding of his own footsteps. They carefully dance around each other, Kottoba still attempting to insult him while dodging, and Sako going for her joints. He carefully aims, and flexes his hand, releasing a disc. It surprises her enough that he's able to slip behind her and push her knees forward, while simultaneously grabbing her shoulders so she would fall to the floor. And she did, landing uncomfortably to the floor. She blinks up at him, and he looks down at her, both gobsmacked, though one far more smug then the other by the fact this little 4'6 kid was able to take down anyone, much less Kottoba.

He helped her to her feet.

"Nice job Masaki. Never thought you had it in you."

"Yeah? And what about all the times you told me I was going to go feral or die or something someday?"

She shrugs. "I guess today was the day. Alright, I'll see ya later, I wanna get changed. I regret putting so much Kevlar in this stupid suit."

He laughs. He could have told her that. "Alright, see you Kottoba!"

He rubs his eyes as they tear up again, and wanders over to where the teachers are. Then all the lights flicker out with a loud buzz.

"FUNKEE. WHAT THE FUCK."

"SORRY!"

An emergency generator must've kicked in, because the lights come back on, and all the teachers are either worried or sighing, unsurprisingly.

"Well. They aren't any worse than my students were, so they should be fine." Says Aizawa to Wolfsboon's stricken look.

The last of the students finished sparring soon after the power outage and Sako spotted Aizawa gently putting eye drops in his eyes, and he walked over.

"Aizawa-sensei, where did you get those eye drops? I need some while I'm here."

Aizawa looks down and over at him. " I got these from the convenience store down the road. Here take some." He pulls a bottle out of his pockets, and offers it to Sako, who takes it, and pockets it gratefully.

"Thank you very much! I'm sorry I had to ask you, we left all our stuff back at our dorms when we left. Sometimes i get really bad dry eye from my quirk and it sucks."

Aizawa nodded thoughtfully. He got that, and expressed the notion to Sako before turning back to the crowd of students around the teacher now.

"All you kids look like you'll do just fine. Don't destroy anything, and we'll be good, okay? Welcome to U.A."

@taiyuu-high-oct

#Masaki Sako #Funkee Zeke #Lyrimon Spellman #Sugiyama Tsubame #Taiyuu OCT

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edgarbright · 5 years

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#will this au be the thing to redeem sirius? give him the plotline that could have been? @mitsuhidethesnek

ABSOLUTELY YES because I've been of the opinion since I first played his route that Sirius could be an infinitely stronger character if he wasn't in the Black Army. Or at least if he didn’t begin in the Black Army.

This is one reason I’m excited for a King of Spades Harr AU! An excuse to go down this road! Let me cry about the plotline that could have been which could flow oh-so easily into this AU.

If the game had made Sirius a neutral instead--a Black Territory "neutral"--Alice could have had some really wonderful interactions with him and a rather marvelous vantage point of Cradle’s day-to-day. Just imagine Black Territory being it’s regular anti-Red but here is this kind, simple florist who gives Alice a flower and from a passing comment one day replies, “Ah, hm. I don't think the King of Hearts is as bad as they say.”

And Alice is like r u serious. And he says, ya.

At one point, after Sirius reminiscences about his school days for the 4820802 time (how old r u Sirius, Alice wonders) it’s revealed Lancelot and Sirius used to be school friends.

And Alice, touched by his goodness, is just all I WILL HELP YOU BE FRIENDS AGAIN because she can see how much it meant to him and maybe that’s the key to getting Lancelot off her back. He needs a friend. An honest friend that’s not the handcuff guy.

Friendship will cure Cradle’s 500 years of turmoil.

(Her brain cells are working overtime and I love her.)

But then Sirius doesn't need help?? He's doing business in the Central Quarter with Alice helping to sell flowers with him in the market. The King of Hearts comes by (w i l d) and Sirius TREATS HIM LIKE THEY ARE STILL FRIENDS. Sirius knows they aren't--he's told Alice they haven't hung out in ages--but damn, you'd think he hadn't gotten the memo! Because he's KIND to this cold king. Not a pushy kindness, but familiar. Gentle. He’s not phased by Lancelot’s indifference.

“Hey, Lance! I saved a donut for you. Covered in powder and still warm.”

And Alice is just like, “Wait, you were saving those? You said I could eat them!”

Then Alice, realizing she’s drawn Lancelot’s attention, kind of ducks behind some potted geraniums to the sound of Lancelot’s low accusation of, “Alice.”

(Is he mad she ate the donuts or aggressive because she’s Alice, she doesn’t know and it’s scary!)

“You must have me confused with someone else aha ha.”

Sirius chuckles. “He won’t hurt you, Alice. He’s just scary like that sometimes.”

And both Alice and Lancelot look at him are like r u serious. And he’s like ya, and that joke still isn’t funny.

The master strategist at play. An immortal walking amongst the regular people.

And also, “I took out all the pink blossoms since you didn’t seem to like them the last time. Oh, looks like you do want it this time! Here, take it.”

Then there’s Jonah, who is !??! “The King doesn’t want your wilted weeds!” and goes to smack Sirius’s hand away from his precious king.

But Lancelot stop him. And takes the flowers. Holds them low at his side as he walks away but he TAKES THEM. And his entourage is like, what if they are poisoned?! What if they have thorns!? What if it’s a Black Territory trap!?!!

And Lancelot passes them off to some person along the way, and they thank him profusely for his kindness.

(But Lancelot doesn’t feel kind at all.)

Because holy shit does Lancelot suffer over these interactions LMAO He wants. to be friends. with Sirius again. SO BAD. Why else would the king pass through the market himself!? With the common rabble? (Even Edgar, his black market candy supplier, knows only the half of it.) The way he doesn't reply but he stares a little too long at whatever Sirius is trying to give him or show him.

Lancelot never, ever takes the food but he wants to. And Sirius knows he wants to. Not because Lancelot necessarily likes whatever food it is but because Sirius isn’t wrong about what tastes good. And Sirius personally COOKED what he tries to give Lancelot.

(Because Lancelot is a King and some people out there might try to hurt him, but they won’t get to him through Sirius. And Alice asks what he means and he smiles that good smile and says Lancelot might have become King but Sirius hasn’t been slacking off, either.)

Also Sirius is his best friend! He knows Lancelot better than anyone! HE'LL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF LANCELOT WITH KINDNESS.

I remember a post that came up shortly before Sirius's route came out and was something like: "not to be nsfw but I want Sirius to hold my hand and show me around his garden." That hit me so good!! Peak romance right there! The route was nothing like that!

Give me gentle giant Sirius Oswald! Who is the eldest of like, what, 5 kids!? And has seen all the weird shit and habits and lies they can dish out, and he knows Lancelot like a brother. (Brothers!!! The brother Lancelot never had!) And he still thinks Lancelot is the good guy he used to know but Lancelot can’t act like that guy in the Red Army. Sirius gets it. This Sirius hasn’t forgotten Lancelot’s dream.

SIRIUS JUST NEEDS TO REMIND LANCELOT, CONSTANTLY, THAT HE’S THERE WHENEVER LANCELOT IS READY TO TALK. ALL CARROT, NO STICK.

(And Lancelot KNOWS, good lord he knows, which is why he's trying so hard! Why it's important to keep pushing onward against Amon. Because he sees Sirius being happy, even if he could be happier, and that's the kind of Cradle he's fighting to protect. He wants Sirius to be able to keep smiling and selling his goddamn smelly flowers and not have to worry about the country torn apart by war or destroyed by Magic Crystals.)

Alice asks Sirius, “What if you're wrong about him? What if King Lancelot really is as bad as seems?” (You might get hurt.)

Sirius smiles and shrugs his shoulders and says, “That's true, but it would hurt more not to try. Being kind doesn't cost me anything.”

(But that’s not true for everyone, he admits. Even roses have their thorns.)

THIS IS THE SIRIUS I WOULD BLEED FOR.

Also there’s the matter of Sirius going to Black Army HQ throughout all this and it’s revealed he did basic training with the Black Army years ago and he hasn’t been going to deliver flowers (the only ~fakery I will allow of this Sirius!) but to prepare for the war that was declared on the night of the full moon. And Alice is just no no nonONONO!? You can’t go to war! Your flower shop! Your flowers! (Your smile!)

But people don’t buy flowers when they’re scared. The cut flowers wilt and die in their vases. The King of Hearts doesn’t come to Market anymore. Sirius believes in Lancelot but he still has his family to protect.

Add Harr into the mix, whether canonverse or King of Spades AU, and I’m LIVING.

#my ikerev #king of spades harr au #when i say rambling i mean rambling #i wanted to cry about king harr but #you got me crying about... sirius #i didn't expect this plot twist lmao #sirius oswald #king harr au stuff still coming!! at some point!!

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foreverevanescent · 6 years

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Scary Movie Night

"ALRIGHT LOSERS! I PICKED THE MOVIE WE'RE GOING TO WATCH TONIGHT…where are Deku and Ponytail?" Bakugo asked, interrupting his loud intro once he noticed that Shoto Todoroki and Ochako Uraraka were without their partners, Momo Yayorozu and Izuku Midoriya, who Bakugo christened with the nickname 'Deku'.

"Deku said that he was afraid of the movie that you were going to pick," Uraraka responded with Todoroki nodding in agreement.

"Yes, they were worried that you were going to pick a violent and scary movie, and they didn't want to watch those types of movies," Todoroki added. Bakugo scoffed and turned back to the giant TV in the lodge of their dorm building.

"Whatever, like we need those pussies around anyway! So, last week, I saved this video store from some thief, and he gave me this new movie before it was supposed to come out on DVD as a reward," Bakugo explained, before he showed the cover of the DVD box, which shows an assortment of bloody body parts.

"No way! Is that 'the Butcher 3'? I heard that's supposed to be awesome!" Ejirio Kirishima yelled, before Denki Kamanari hi-fived him.

"Yeah, I heard that this is supposed to be just as much of an awesome gorefest as the last two movies," Kamanari agreed, not noticing the slightly worried look that his girlfriend, Kyoka Jiro, was giving.

"Well we'll see if you're right, Lightning Rod," Bakugo said before he put the DVD in the DVD player and started the movie. Jiro grabbed Kamanari's arm and took a few deep breaths.

'Come on, Jiro. It's just a movie, and you're a hero in training. This can't be that bad. I can do this,' Jiro thought, as the opening credits for the movie were wrapping up.

20 Minutes Later…

'OK, I can't do this!' Jiro thought, trying to hide her eyes from the blood bath that was happening on screen. Kamanari, Kirishima, and Bakugo were cheering, laughing, and even having discussions based on their theories on the movie. 'How the hell can they stand watching this stuff,' she thought while looking around, trying to calm down.

She saw Bakugo's girlfriend, Mei Hatsume, sitting next to her with her hands clutching her pajama pants, her face a sick shade of green, and her body slightly shaking. Despite this, she was still looking at the screen, pretending that she wasn't on the verge of pissing herself out of fear. Despite her rapid heartbeat and chills flowing throughout her body, Jiro had to chuckle a little at the pink haired inventor badly hiding how scared she was of this movie.

Jiro had gotten a little too comfortable however, as when she turned back to the TV screen without her hands over her eyes, she saw one of the many monsters seen in this movie rip a poor guy's head off his body with his spine sticking out before the monster slurped the spine out of the guy's body with ease as if he was sucking a strand of spaghetti. That was Jiro's limit, as she felt vomit start to rocket up her throat and she knew she needed to leave right now.

"OK! I can't do this anymore!" Jiro said in a panic, running out of the room with both of her hands over her mouth. The moment she ran out the door, Kaminari stopped talking with Bakugo and Kirishima and looked over with an eyebrow raised.

"Where's Jiro going? Is she alright? I better go and check on her," Kaminari said, leaving the couch with Kirishima and Bakugo continuing their conversation and following Jiro out of the room. Kaminari headed to Jiro's room, and found her throwing up in her toilet. Her hands were planted firm on the tiled floor, and her face was covered in sweat and tears as she was lurching over the toilet.

"Jiro, are you sick? What's wrong?" Kaminari asked. Jiro looked back at Kaminari, trying her best to not lock eyes with him.

"I'm fine…Jamming-Whey. I…my stomach…was just…acting up…" Jiro mumbled, dry heaving a couple of times while she was talking.

"Are you sure? Because…you didn't look all that excited when you saw the movie Bakugo picked tonight," Kaminari countered, causing Jiro to blush.

"I…I…I don't know what you were talking about! I wasn't scared of the movie at all! Nothing in some cheap horror movie can scare me that easily!" Jiro yelled out, with the blush now covering her entire face.

"I never said you were scared, but thanks for telling me," Kaminari said with a playful smirk on his face. Jiro looked at Kaminari with her eyes bugged out, and gave a long sigh.

"Yeah…I…don't do well with horror. I never have," Jiro confessed, mumbling while trying to stand up using the sink for support.

"You could've told me. I would have understood," Kaminari responded, giving Jiro his hand. Jiro grabbed his hand, and Kaminari pulled her up to her feet.

"I know you would've, but it's embarrassing to tell everyone else that I don't like horror. I don't know how Midoriya and Momo were able to let people know they were scared of that Goddamn movie. We're training to be pro heroes. Hell, we've even fought villains, and here I am scared of some stupid movie," Jiro exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes. Kaminari walked closer to her, and enveloped her in a warm hug.

"Kyoka, it's OK. Everyone is scared of something. Even heroes have fears. There's no need to hide how you feel about anything. We're all friends here, and we would completely understand you were scared," Kaminari responded, running his hand through Jiro's soft purple hair. Jiro looked up at Kaminari, and stuffed her face into the shoulder of his shirt.

"You may be an idiot, but I'm glad that you're my idiot," Jiro mumbled into his shirt.

"Why don't we get you to your room so that you can rest? I can stay with you if you too if you want," Kaminari suggested, letting go of Jiro.

"But don't you want to see the rest of the movie? I don't want you to miss it because of me. I can manage by myself," Jiro asked.

"A good boyfriend doesn't leave their girlfriend by themselves in their time of need, no matter what. The movie will probably be on the Internet in a little while anyway," Kaminari responded with a warm smile on his face. Jiro looked at Kaminari with a completely shocked expression on her face for a moment before her face developed a warm smile of her own.

"Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?" Jiro asked before hugging Kaminari from behind.

"Not a whole lot, but it's nice to hear it every once in a while," Kaminari responded, turning around to kiss Jiro on the forehead. The two grabbed each other's hands, and started heading upstairs to Jiro's room.

Omake:

"Mei, what the hell are you doing?" Bakugo asked, seeing Hatsume hammering some nails into a piece of metal at lightning speed.

"That movie we saw last night gave me so many new ideas for babies! Once I was done being terrified of all the monsters and gory moments in the movie, I realized how many monster related inventions I can make for the public!" Hatsume responded excitedly, looking back at Bakugo with a million dollar smile on her face.

"Monsters aren't really that common, Mei. It was just a movie," Bakugo countered with his hands folded across his chest.

"So..what did you see All Might fight at the USJ again?" Hatsume countered with a smirk on her face and her hands on her hips.

"…"

"…so what does that invention of yours do?"

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 6 years

Text

Heksen af Kattegat (Ivar x OC) Halloween Oneshot

(= The Witch of Kattegat in Danish)

Synopsis: In the deepest part of the forest there dwells a creature of darkness. Everyone knows of her yet no one saw her and lived to tell about it. Like a shadow, she is and she is not. She is a lurking presence, the silence of the night, the breath in your neck. No one dares to venture out there after dusk, for there is an evil in these woods, and she is it.

Word Count: off the charts, just make sure you sit comfortably and don’t have a pressing appointment in the coming hour

A/N: This is not part of anyone’s Halloween challenge but my very own. I challenged myself to write a goddamn Halloween fanfic for once and not just ignore the general spooky mood in favor of doing my own thing like an absolute asocial. I really wanted it to be a one shot and not turn this into yet another series I have to update more or less regularly. It’s long guys. It’s a monstrosity, I’m sorry.

He grew up with this story. They all did. It was a bogeyman parents told their children about to make them behave, nothing more. It was an ancient tale someone made up and that got passed onto the next generation and so on until its origin was lost to all. A story of magic and things that go bump in the night, a warning to the young ones who were tempted to sneak out at night, or venture too far into the woods.

But Ivar has always been a smart child, sharper than any of his brothers. He was by far the less likely to believe such a tale - and judging by his mother's knowing smile she was aware of it. He listened carefully and glanced at his older brothers staring at their mother with wide eyes glimmering with wonder and barely hidden fear.

One day Ivar went to see his mother and told her he knew the truth.

“What truth are you speaking of, my sweet child?” Aslaug had asked, gently pinching his chin.

“Your story is a lie!” He accused, making her stare in surprise. “It can't be real! No one lives that old!”

A fair point, she had had to admit. Her expression softened a bit upon hearing his argument, as though she had been expecting something else.

“Some living creatures live a very long time,” Aslaug started, “to find them, all you have to do is gaze into their eyes, and you will see the weight of all their years of existence,” she countered, tapping the tip of his nose.

The action caused a childish kind of frustration to appear on his face – Ivar hated not being taken seriously because of his age. How he wished he too was as old and wise as time sometimes. How he secretly wished the tale was true, and that such state of agelessness was achievable – the things he would do!

“Now where are you brothers? It is time for dinner,” his mother told him, putting an end to their conversation before Ivar could argue further and ask more questions.

Ivar crawled away to get his brothers, a scowl on his face as he called their names. His mind was elsewhere during the whole evening. He sat through dinner but didn't say a word, barely ate as he glared ahead of him, thinking hard.

If his mother was telling the truth then he had to find out more about it. He had to listen more carefully tonight when she would once again recount a dark tale to capture their attention and put them to sleep.

For if the tales were real, it opened new horizons. Horizons that young Ivar could not see the width of yet. In hindsight these stories were hardly appropriate for children, even if his brothers begged for the scary stories, claiming they weren't afraid. But Ivar had stopped counting the number of times he caught them shooting a wary glance towards the forest and its shaded areas.

Ivar and the other children of Kattegat had grown up hearing tales of a monstrous thing lurking in the dark, waiting for a child to wander off to eat them. Sordid tales of a shape-shifting creature with no name, no face, an ageless being to stay clean of, lest they find themselves in its clutches.

Stories about the one thing even mighty warriors tried to avoid, something – someone – that fought not with weapons but with something entirely different. Stories about the witch of Kattegat.

Despite his young age, Ivar could say he faced a great number of hardships in his life. And some of those very nearly made him do the unthinkable. He remembered the first time he spoke of finding the witch, how the room fell silent, as though time came to a stop, how his brothers stared in shock and bewilderment, their spoons halfway to their mouths. Then all hell broke loose, and it was like they were children again – terrified of the scary, children eating, men mauling, life sucking witch that lived in the woods. A table full of grown men afraid of a creature that might not even exist.

Ivar had abandoned the thought – it was nothing more than that after all, a spontaneous thought he didn't plan on acting on, not really.

His eyes burned with an untamed flame but he could do nothing about it. He was the youngest son, the cripple, the last in line, the unworthy. His ambitions would forever remain unachievable because of his physical condition – or so he thought up until Ragnar came back from the dead, old, diminished, and the shadow of the legendary king he became years before.

His life sped up from this moment on, and all thoughts of witches and magic were pushed out of his minds. At least until he nearly drowned during the journey to Wessex, when his father took him to sail west with him. Though even then he remembered with great clarity the moment he went underwater and wished, hoped, prayed for a magical intervention. He didn't like to think too hard about his miraculous survival. He tried to forget the rocky beginning of his adventure. But then, when things turned sour and he was imprisoned while his father was being executed, his mind turned once again towards this witch and the powers she might have.

Oh he remembered clear as day how strongly he wished for a magical interference. If the gods didn't meddle with their mortal lives and save his father, then maybe the witch would have. Maybe if he had found her as he had considered so many times for years, he would have tamed her by now made her into his plaything, his pet.

But he hadn't. He hadn't, and his father died, and he sailed back home to gather forces and avenge that cruel death, unworthy of the king he was. He came back to Kattegat with a furnace alight behind his dark irises, a fire no disability would ever extinguish or diminish. Confident in his skills despite the lack of usage of his legs, Ivar allowed his ambitions to come alive again. Ragnar had blown on the red embers of his rage and drive.

He didn't need magic to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was greatness. A name for himself, a legend, a legacy.

He wouldn't stop before he got what he wanted, until the witch trembled at the mere mention of his name. He would bring the creature to its knees.

His mother was dead. Ivar's mind was hazy with hurt, anger, and grief. His hands ached to reach for his mother's hands, yet there was nothing to grasp. She was gone. He screamed at the void, his voice echoing around him. No one heard him, that much he was sure of, for he had wandered far from the town.

No one wanted to deal with him anyway, and he didn't want to deal with them either. Sitting on a rock in the middle of the thickest fog he had ever seen, Ivar wallowed in self-pity and cried for his departed dearly beloved mother, killed by the usurper Lagertha.

It was right then and there, on this rock, after hours of sitting unmoving in the cold humidity that Ivar came to a decision. Nothing else worked, nothing his dead father, his dead mother, or his thick brothers ever suggested, or approved of has ever shown any results. He needed to take action.

Floki always laughed when Ivar brought up the tale of the witch, as if he had been warned by every mother in Kattegat not to tell the children it was but a bogeyman. As if he was hiding something behind his maniac laugh. Ivar knew better than to ask him directly, for no one was as good as Floki to answer questions without giving a proper response.

Knowing that there was something someone withheld from him was motivation enough to Ivar. He wanted to know – no, more than that, he needed to know. He needed to see for himself. Perhaps it really was but a tale to scare the young ones, but if there was even a slight chance it had any truth to it, then he had to try.

Ivar set his mind. He would find the witch, make her use her powers on him, give him proper legs, and with them he knew he would find a way to rise above his current condition and kill his mother's murderer.

The decision ended up being an easy one – because of Lagertha's overtaking of Kattegat he was welcome no more, and while his brothers still fought her upfront, he was planning his revenge. She publicly refused his challenge when he asked to battle it out with her. She had the nerve to turn her back to her enemy, showing no more worry than if he were still a child and not a young man trained in the art of war.

Ivar seethed with rage and let it be known to all of Kattegat that he would avenge Aslaug and kill the usurper. The wretched woman ruined his life. She robbed his mother of a painless and dignified death and instead shot her in the back, like a coward would. She was defenceless and surrendered without resistance, there was no honour in killing an enemy who didn't fight back.

The thought still made his brain boil with anger, though it happened a few months ago. Ivar was on a self-exile, wondering if he would ever find his way back; if anyone had noticed his absence at all; if he was on a wild goose chase. So many questions swirled about in his head and the quiet of the woods did nothing to prevent him from over-thinking.

His arms hurt and were covered in bruises because of his crutches. He walked the woods painfully slowly, the bumpy tracks, leaf covered, muddy ground did nothing to help him navigate in the maze that was the forest. Each and every tree looked exactly like its neighbours once he reached a point he had never been before. His entire body was but ache, hunger, and cold.

Maybe he was going to die in these woods, ruminating his thoughts of vengeance until his last breath – that would surely take place under some oak during a night colder than usual. Maybe the witch would come across his lifeless body and smile – yet another foolish man who thought he would find her.

No.

Such thoughts were not allowed, he couldn't have it. His brothers would never be able to accomplish their vengeance without him, he knew it. They had legs but if the brain guiding them wasn't set on the right path it was pointless, they might as well be headless chickens. If the gods had granted Ivar legs, he would be king of the world by now.

He tripped on a root, his body hitting the hard ground in a thud muffled by the leaves and moss. He cursed out loud, having long stopped caring if there was a living soul to hear him cuss. Surely that wouldn't put off the witch if there ever was one in the first place.

But instead of getting discouraged, each passing day of nothing but trees, mist, and mud felt like a blow of wind on the red embers of his determination. The more she hid from him, the more he wanted to find her. For her existence suddenly seemed real, and not a mere story anymore. Alone in these gloomy woods, Ivar felt it in his bones that something dangerous lived here.

Its presence made his hair stand on end, his sweat run cold, his blood curl. It was madness to whip his head round every time he thought he saw movement, only to see it was a raven or an howl sitting on a branch and staring at him with big, curious eyes. He rubbed the base of his neck and stood up again, with more difficulty but more determination each time he fell. His knuckles were dry and bloody, each joint sore, every patch of skin burning from the biting cold.

He didn't care. He walked on, straining his muscles, pushing through the pain. For she was there, Ivar knew it, felt it. He has roamed these woods day and night, ignoring the sharp pain shooting up his bad leg – his worse leg – and pushing way beyond the limits of his body. Surely that couldn't be for nothing, the gods wouldn't play such a tasteless trick on him. Whatever awaited him, it had to be grand, she had to be a terrifyingly powerful creature, and he would use it.

For days now he followed a moving shadow. His guts told him she wasn't far, but his eyes kept betraying him. Shadows don't move on their own, and nothing in the surrounding stillness moved, so naturally it couldn't be that the shadow moved. No matter the wind, the trees were ancient and thick, but he could have sworn something moved behind the line of trees, something fast, something silent in the night.

After the first week he recognized a particular crooked tree and realized he had walked past it a couple times already. The shadow was leading him round and round in the hopes to tire him out or make him go mad. Loki himself could be playing with his sanity and Ivar would be none the wiser. However, the young Viking highly doubted the trickster god was the one leaning his astray.

To Ivar it was a sign he was close to his goal, for this shadow must have belonged to someone. And whose could it be but hers? Who lived this far out in the woods knowing evil lurked in its darkest corners?

It has now been three weeks since he realized he unintentionally became the sorceress' plaything. The thought was maddening, but at the same time he was sure no one had been this close to finding out who she was.

As always when dusk came and it became too difficult for Ivar to keep on moving in the dark with his crutches, he found a place to settle for the night, wrapping himself in furs and willing away the cold. Moss was not his bed in Kattegat, and he constantly had to remind himself he no longer had a bed or a home in Kattegat. The wind blew hard tonight so he had to find a sheltered corner to sit down, leaning against a twisted tree that looked like it came straight out of his nightmares. The woods' silence was slowly replaced by the noise of nocturnal animals who came out of their hiding spot, and Ivar closed his eyes.

It was a relatively harsh and restless night, as most were these days. He couldn't tell whether it was due to the setting or the circumstances, but he knew that neither the cold hard ground nor the death of both his parents helped in the matter.

Things were no longer what they were, what they were supposed to be, or what they seemed to be. Everything was either too quiet or too loud, too slow or too fast. Ivar couldn't trust his senses anymore. His eyes saw things that were not, his ears perceived sounds that couldn't be. Like the soft whispers of the wind, murmuring against his neck. If he was inclined to believe such things possible, he'd say he even felt a warm breath against his nape.

But he was undoubtedly alone. He didn't need eyes nor ears to know that, he felt it. No human presence other than himself was in these woods. Then again, perhaps the witch wasn't quite human.

He stirred and shook from the cold in his sleep, until he was rested enough that his eyes opened from themselves, though it was still night. The frightful sight before him nearly caused his heart to stop. He stopped breathing, and he would swear the forest also held its breath in this moment.

She looked at him with intent, a sharp glimmer in his glowing eyes. Ivar didn't dare move a muscle, not even to breathe. She blink and narrowed her eyes, as though she was gazing upon a curious creature she had never seen before in her life. Still and struck mute, Ivar could do nothing but stare back with equal focus – not that he had the option to look anywhere else, her eyes quite literally shone in the dark, like two crystals catching the moonlight.

Her face remained hidden in the shadow of her cloak, a clothing so dark he couldn't see where it ended and where the night began. Ivar could make out a nose and a mouth, but before he could fully study her face, she moved.

A brisk, silent movement that seemed to finally free Ivar of her spell and allowed him to take in some much needed air. She stood a mere few meters away from him but the air was already much more breathable and he could think straight again and not just stare in fascination.

“You are trespassing,” came her disembodied voice, whispering and screaming at the same time, coming from here and there, from the sky above and the earth below, from in and from out. The words echoed in his mind as though Ivar was the one who thought them. He blinked and she was gone.

Ivar was on his feet faster than ever.

“No!” He yelled when his voice was returned to him. “Don't go!”

Ivar looked around, seeing nothing in the pitch black night but the glowing eyes of small animals and birds. He still felt her. She was there, watching him, like a predator watching their prey.

“You are not welcome here.” The voice became clearer and Ivar spun around, wincing at the pain and grunting.

He nearly toppled over both in hurt and shock. The sun had set hours ago and the moon wasn't full tonight. He could barely make out her figure standing a couple meters to his left. But even at this distance her eyes in particular stood out - sharp clear eyes, holding his attention like she'd put a spell on him. Ivar felt stuck, like he had just stepped into a trap. They were entrancing and for a moment he forgot he had to say something.

The creature stared at him, slowing titling her head to the right as if studying him. Her eyes were a light colour but were painted black. Charcoal it seemed was smudged over her face from ear to ear and the stark contrast of colours didn't help Ivar's sudden muteness. There wasn't much else he could see other than her pale complexion - a ghost really. As though she had spent years avoiding the daylight. No wonder he couldn't find her during daytime, perhaps she only wandered out at night, like all the other forest creatures who want to avoid men.

“I need your services,” he finally said, the words coming out croaky and more hesitant than he would have liked.

She did not move. Her glare was strong and piercing. Ivar shuddered, either from the cold or her hard stare. It was clear that she had no intention to answer that. Even worse: she looked amused!

“You have magic. Use it to fix my legs, help me achieve my ambitions and I will cover you in more gold than you can imagine,” he continued, growing impatient.

He had been looking for her for days now, the least she could do was to speak to him. Facing such intense silence unsettled him.

Of course his first instinct was to bargain. Who could resist the thought of gold and living a life of opulence and comfort? She could apparently. She sneered, though she remained quiet, her hard unforgiving gaze stuck on him. The thought that he was a defenceless mouse in a trap struck Ivar again but he shook it away.

“Land. I can give you land if gold is of no interest to you,” he added. “Power. Servants if you want,” he kept on going, not seeing that she couldn't be swayed by earthly possessions.

“The land belongs to no mortal soul, only the gods own this land and the sky above,” the creature barked back as if Ivar had just made a blasphemy.

Her voice was smoky and low, as though she hadn't used it in some time and was only now getting back the hang of it. He recoiled when she stepped forward menacingly and cursed himself for showing a sign of weakness to an unknown creatures who could very well turn out to be an enemy.

“I have more power than you could ever give me, and I will never use it to submit another living creature,” she told him with a bit of condescension, a clear sign that she wasn't a complete stranger to the way of men after all.

“Then ask and you shall receive whatever you want, witch.”

She backed away at the last word, her eyes finally looking down and freeing Ivar from their mesmerizing sight.

“No.” It was curt, final.

“No?” Who was she to refuse his more than generous offer?

“I will not. You are king enough as it is, and vengeance is sterile act. I will play no part in this power game of yours,” she stated, giving him full sentences at long last.

Ivar was beginning to think her seclusion had driven her mad. He was no king. He was the errand son of a dead king, whose throne was currently occupied by his first wife and the killer of his dear mother. If there ever was a creature as miserable as Ivar he has not heard of it.

“The gods took your legs away, it is not my place to give them back,” she explained, her voice softer this time, as though she realized she has been bargaining with a grieving child and not a mighty Viking threatening her with an axe. “Everything has a reason to be or not to be.”

“So it means that you have the ability to. You could help me if you wanted,” Ivar pointed out, not exactly waiting for an answer. “You seem to know who I am. If so, you should know I'm not beyond using lower methods to obtain what I want.”

He couldn't be sure because of the dark but Ivar swore her figure didn't stay still. Like a cloak, shadows moved and billowed behind her, as though they were a living creature ready to strike whoever threatened their master. The shadows didn't engulf her, they surrounded her, enveloped her like a protective glove. His very being screamed at him to stay where he was and not attempt to close the space between them.

She started smiling. First timidly and than bigger and bigger until it became grotesque. Was it possible to stretch your mouth so wide open? Ivar wouldn't know but cold sweat trickled down his back while a shiver ran down his spine.

“And if you know who I am then you should know the wise thing to do is to turn around and never look back,” she replied, the threat barely veiled behind her amused tone.

Her presence grew, Ivar felt smaller, oppressed by the heavy shadows.

“Wise people never achieve anything. I deemed the reward worth the risk when I set my mind to finding you,” he told her boldly.

“You walk alongside death and treat it like a comrade but one day it will look you in the eye and you will know, it never was your friend.”

Her ominous statement took him aback, but her words burned in his memory, where they would stay for a long time, he was certain of it. He blinked one moment too long and she was gone. Laughter erupted in the air. It came from nowhere in particular yet everywhere at the same time. It felt like being surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves on the hunt, liking their chops in anticipation of the meal to come.

“Go. You are unwelcome,” she said again, this time from his right.

She stood farther away, all trace of humour gone from her features. Somehow she seemed even more hidden by the dark than before.

“I will not help you. The people of Kattegat do not deserve my help, or my mercy. I do not owe anything to anyone. Leave me be and do not come again or you will regret it.”

Her last words were spoken softly, like a whisper, like a hushed confession she spoke into his ear. But there was no mistaking the dignity of her tone, and no doubting she would carry out her threat. Before Ivar could protest, she was gone again, vanishing between the trees. They too looked like they could move and dance with the shadows. She was no longer here this time, he didn't feel her presence any longer and the noises of the sleeping forest started again, breaking the eerie quietness. Feeling he had already tested his luck enough for one day, Ivar made to return to his sleeping spot to finish his night and get some rest. He would look for her again tomorrow. He would come walk these parts as many times as he had to in order to get what he wanted.

Aslaug had told Ivar countless times that perseverance was key but he hadn't really given it much credit until now. Being in the shoes of a predator for the first time in his life made him realize just how much discipline and will it took to wait. Waiting for his target to show herself, waiting for her to acknowledge him, speak to him.

Patience was a quality he did no possess, and he cursed the gods once again for making him so. Nevertheless, he persevered and roamed the forest until his body reached its limits, until his arms were blue from the cold and the bruises, his skin dry and red from the merciless wind blowing through the tall trees.

It was a good day when he caught sight of the witch, even if she disappeared almost immediately. She hasn't tried to lure him into a trap, which he considered a small victory. She hasn't lead him astray again, but on the other hand she hasn't spoken to him again either. Ivar was desperate for a conversation, a chance to speak to her and defend his cause. She was obviously a creature of intelligence – there was no mistaking the glimmer in her eyes – only a sharp-minded person would behave the way she did.

She proceeded with caution, studied her stalker, kept her distance. He supposed that if she hasn't tried to hex him into oblivion despite her clear threat the day of their first meeting it meant that she wasn't past seeing reason. Perhaps she only waited for Ivar to make a better offer.

But what could a witch want? She lived secluded, alone, and only the gods knew what she was truly capable of. Was there anything Ivar could give her that she couldn't get herself? It was a thought worth pondering – especially since Ivar had so much time to think now that she reverted to silence.

The more he thought about it, the more inclined he was to reconsider his mother's tales and the legend surrounding the witch. Could it be that she was the owl and the raven that seemed to follow him during his first weeks of wandering? Would she answer truthfully if he asked? If it was him he wouldn't tell a soul.

Sometimes he thought she was there but didn't see anything. On other occasions he saw her, and then she walked round a tree and was there no longer. On rarer instances he thought he heard footsteps, or the rustling of leaves and branches indicating someone was coming, but nothing moved at all.

He would have burnt this forest to the ground if he thought for a second that it would get her out of her lair, but he knew better. If he disrespected her sacred land, she would forever remain out of reach and never listen to him. She made it clear that she was a being of the earth, protector of the woods and its inhabitants – perhaps she would kill him for his crimes lest he give in to his destructive urges.

No. He would keep going. He would follow her like her cloak of shadows until she couldn't ignore his presence anymore.

She sighed, and knelt to the ground. This young Viking was tenacious, she had to give him that. Her hands dug in the wet ground and ripped out the roots she needed, storing them in her basket before she rose to her feet again. A slight shiver made her hair stand on end, and she knew he wasn't far.

He was good. Very perceptive – for a man. Despite the wards she cast about her he somehow always found his way back towards her, even forcing her to use tricks to lure him away. The sun has barely risen in the foggy morning, but already she sensed he was near, the sound of his crutches tapping against the ground growing closer.

She walked on, her eyes fixed on the ground, looking for herbs and mushrooms. Would he ever give up? He was young and reckless, but she sensed no danger from him. He had an aura of darkness about him, as though his young age hid horrendous actions, and she had no difficulty imagining him do terrible things, but still he did not seem to mean harm – not towards her.

When his eyes locked with hers, she saw not fear like she usually did in the eyes of men, but profound respect, awe, and envy. Truly she pitied the poor creature. She wished her fate to no living being, not even the wretched people of Kattegat.

Having found a tree with the mushrooms she was looking for, she stopped walking again. Her mind constantly jumped back to the Viking, unable to push him out of her thoughts. So far she has been able to keep her home hidden from view, leading him in a wrong direction every time he came too close, but she knew it was but a matter of time until he slipped past her vigilant eyes and saw where she lived.

Why couldn't he give up like the others? Run away in fear? She greeted him in the worst way possible, in the middle of the night, by surprise, and let her shadows loom over him like the wide open jaws of a predator ready to rip his head clean off. Why was he still walking in her tracks?

He wouldn't last much longer, that much she knew. Each day the nights became colder and the small animals began to prepare for winter, soon the forest would become quiet as a grave, and the young man would die. The cold and hunger would take him sneakily, with no warning.

And for a reason beyond her comprehension, it didn't sit well in her stomach.

Sighing once more though there was no one near enough to hear her, she left a few mushrooms on the bark of the tree. She already had more than enough, and he needed them more than she did anyway. Momentarily breaking the silence spell she put on herself, she walked away noisily to catch his attention.

Hopefully he would follow it and find the mushrooms. His cheeks hollowed by the day.

Ivar wasn't a fool, he understood what she was trying to do, and he hated it. But one thing he came to realize was that she didn't want him to die, and that played in his favour. Why else would she leave fruits, mushrooms and edible plants in her wake? It also told him that she knew he followed her, and that she let him. So perhaps he shouldn't take too much pride in his tracking skills, perhaps she only allowed him to follow her, as opposed to Ivar hunting her down.

For a moment he thought he had the upper hand but she was a step ahead of him. What was going through her mind? If she thought he was going to get tired of pursuing her or bored, then she had another thing coming. Ivar wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted, one way or another.

It seemed like the witch saw no reason to hide while she performed dull daily tasks. Ivar saw her walk about here and there, picking fruits, gathering small wood, chopping bigger firewood, collecting moss, fetching water. All of this told him one important thing: she had a house.

Somewhere in these woods was her home. She wasn't an evanescent creature that appeared and disappeared at will and fed on unlucky children or the soul of mortal men. She ate apples, and stew, and slept in a bed.

His stomach rumbled at the sheer idea of a warm meal. Ivar hasn't had meat in a while – rabbits grew rare these days.

“By the Norns, you stubborn thing!” He heard her curse from behind him and nearly gave himself whiplash when he twisted his head around to see her.

There she stood, in the shade of a tree. Though shade implied that there was sunlight, and Ivar hadn't seen the sun in about as much time as he hasn't had meat. However the day hasn't come to an end yet, and he could see her better this time. Her face remained hidden, but her appearance was much less intimidating then during night-time.

“I told you,” he started. “I need your services. I will not go back until you listen to me.”

His voice was cautious, as to not make her flee again. He's had a lot of time to ponder what he was going to tell her once he managed to get her attention.

“Are you on a death wish?” She asked him, cocking an eyebrow under her heavy hood. “Will you hide away in a corner to die like an animal? Go back to your village and leave your mad thoughts behind. I cannot help you,” she insisted, trying to make him see reason.

Ivar's mouth twisted in a cocky grin, his confidence rising.

“You seem worried,” he pointed out, not bothering to hide his victorious smile.

“I do not want to have your rotting corpse on my territory,” she scowled. His grin wavered under her stern gaze.

“I thought the land belonged only to the gods,” Ivar said, using her own words against her.

She at least had the decency to look offended. More than offended, she became angry and stepped forward until her feet stood firmly in the ground before Ivar, his eyes no higher than her knees.

“I will not play your games, young Viking,” she uttered menacingly.

“My name is Ivar,” he told her, and this time he saw her flinch slightly, even if most her face was still unreadable what with the charcoal she painted it with.

“Very well, young Ivar...” she started, and he almost scowled when he heard her using the word young again. Young, young... Always too young to be taken seriously, even by a hermit witch. “I do not care for your play on words or your desperation. I do not care for your life, you shall live or die or do whatever you see fit.” Her eyes didn't leave him, they pinned him to the ground, silently forbade him to move or talk until she was done. “But I will not have you spoiling these parts. For the last time, go away.”

Once the last word was uttered she looked away and spun on her heels, ready to leave him in the dust with the knowledge that her point came across. But that was a mistake she would only make once, for Ivar wasn't done with her.

“I don't believe you,” he said. The sap even had the gall to snigger! “You wouldn't be here, lecturing me, if you didn't care.”

The witch stopped dead in her tracks but refused to turn around. She bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood to the surface. Her hand was already in her basket, and she was no liar.

“It's true that I do not have the prerogative of being insensitive to other creatures' suffering,” she said at long last, when the silent had stretched so that Ivar thought she wouldn't answer at all. “Perhaps it is my weakness, but it's one I gladly embrace. Here!” He turned around only to throw something at Ivar, which he caught as a reflex. “Soon there will be no small animal left to hunt. No fruits, no mushrooms. I might have some sympathy for you, but the seasons don't care if you live or die, Ivar. Go home. You don't belong here.”

This time he sensed he couldn't say anything else to change her mind – for now. Ivar watched her resume her walking when suddenly she stopped again.

“One last word if I may. Don't give your name so freely in these parts, young Viking. There is evil in this world, and not all as gracious as me.”

With those ominous words she left him alone, vanishing between the trees as per usual. Ivar supposed she didn't want him to see where she was going, and concluded that she must be going home – like she suggested he should.

But he wouldn't. Ivar looked down at his hand, still somewhat befuddled. He didn't think too long or hard though, and simply bit in the loaf of bread. He moaned in delight – it was crusty on the outside, and soft and still warm on the inside. It was dark bread mixed with all sorts of nuts and herbs.

Be that as it may, she just provided him with enough food to last another handful of days in the woods, and he would use them to carry on his stalking.

Some days he didn't see her at all, and while Ivar expected it to anger him, it mostly disappointed him. Even he could not ignore the loneliness of his endeavour and relished her company – although she mostly ignored him or lectured him, he found her rather endearing.

He was sure that she had grown to appreciate his presence just as he did hers. After years of living alone in the woods, surely she must seek out conversation and human company? What of her needs? Who warmed her bed? Who helped her not go insane?

He observed her and tried to follow her lead to survive in this wild environment. He tried to find the secret spots where mushrooms still grew in the increasingly cold temperatures, or spot the edible herbs. When he did he stuffed his mouth with the little brown fungi, sometimes not even bothering to rinse them in a puddle. Hunger dominated him. The witch made a very good point when she said he would starve himself to death by staying here, but Ivar would reach his limits before giving up.

If he left now he might never find her again. Perhaps it was what she wanted, but he wasn't going to take the risk. Not for a good night's sleep, not for a large serving of pork chops. Mushrooms made him sick now, but he had to keep eating anything he could. It warmed him up to have something in his stomach, and it gave him enough force to continue walking.

Some other days, he didn't even try to talk to her at all. But he kept a close eye on her, as if he waited to see what she would do if she found him spying on her again.

One day he saw her cleaning herself in a pond, swimming across, amid the fallen leaves floating on the surface. He briefly thought that it was too cold to bathe in the dark waters, but she didn't seemed bothered at all.

After a while she returned to the edge and started washing away the sweat, mud, dust and dirt. Her hair was longer than he had imagined once freed from all the knots and ornaments. It clung to her back and reached the bump of her backside. He expected its dark hue to make a stark contrast with her creamy skin but was once again stunned by what his eyes shows him. Not black hair, no, but white, pure as freshly fallen snow, blending in with the rest of her uncharacteristically pale complexion.

They say all cats are grey in the dark but Ivar could not have expected this any less. Where was the creature of darkness he was told about? And if she's not it, than who was she?

Her arms were littered in tiny scars as one would expect from someone who lives in the wilderness. But what stood out most where the many runes littering her entire body. Up and down her legs, on her stomach, on her arms and around her wrists.

From the spot Ivar was posted at he could not read them but he was fascinated all the same. They were everywhere. Her body was a book.

She lived alone out there, how could she have tattoos on her back? Where did they come from?

She was back to him, her hands trailing up and down her arms to scrub off the dirt. The water around her became muddy, so she dived down and came back to the surface a couple meters from where she stood, pushing her long hair out of her face.

This time she faced Ivar fully, and it was as though he saw her for the first time. However he couldn't bring himself to look anywhere but her face, for her eyes were locked on him. He suddenly understood with full force that she had always been aware of his presence. She let him spy on her. Probably for days.

And he didn't even care. So far all he had seen was a troubling dark creature always draped in long cloaks and engulfing dresses. He couldn't remember seeing her face once, he didn't know what she looked like at all. The memory of her piercing blue eyes still burned in his mind, like two flaming torches flickering in the night, eclipsing everything else.

She didn't move, didn't blink, didn't try to cover her naked body. Ivar was locked on her gaze, and a strong pull emanated from her. He was struck by the urge to join her. He couldn't walk, and certainly couldn't swim, trying to join her in the pond would be suicide. Yet something about her sucked him in – and as sure as the sun rose each morning, he knew that very same thing would spit him out.

Yet his body took the lead despite his better judgement, and Ivar was shocked beyond words when he felt his legs push his body up from the ground without the help of his crutches. He stood tall and without any pain or outside help for the briefest moment, and then came the darkness.

Ivar woke up in a start, sweating and heaving, his eyes darting madly around him to see where he was and what was happening. He didn't recognize his surroundings at all. It was dark, he wasn't outside, he was too hot, and laid on something soft. This was as far as his assessment of the situation went.

“Stay still you foolish boy,” a voice snapped at him.

He didn't recognize it, but he knew the sternness in it, he had heard it before. His dear mother's voice had the same ring to it whenever she addressed her wayward sons, and Ivar recognized the scolding tone of a woman who intended to be obeyed.

There was something on his chest, making it an ordeal to breathe. Each new intake of air was a gift, and Ivar struggled to get rid of whatever weighted down on him, though however much his hands fumbled around he did not find a thing.

“I said stop moving!” The voice came again. “I told you this would happen, I warned you that you weren't welcome.” A tinge of panic tainted the scolding voice, and Ivar felt someone else's hands still his own and place them back each side of his body. “The forest protects its inhabitants and chases away the foolhardy who dare trespass. I tried to tell you, I tried...”

Was she talking to herself? Ivar couldn't tell. His eyes were closed again, unable to keep open what with the blindingly bright flame dancing in the hearth. A house, he was in a house. A woman's house. Could it be... ?

“Oh young Ivar,” the voice said, and this time he knew. The witch. He felt a cold hand rest on his forehead, wiping away the sweat pearling there, combing back his damp hair. “Fight.”

There was will in this single word, determination. It wasn't a wish, it sounded more like an order, like a demand. And somehow, he wanted to obey. It instilled strength in his sore limbs, cleared his mind. The hand still stroked his head, chasing away the cold dampness and grounding him to this world.

Ivar recognized the symptoms of a fever, and he knew the first night was crucial. If he made it through the night, he would survive.

He had to fight.

The second time he woke up it was daytime and he was alone from what he could tell – but not for long. Ivar barely had the time to take in his new surroundings, and wonder if he really was inside the witch's house, if this was all it took – a little fever – to get in, when she burst through the door, letting in a gust a chilling wind.

She was rubbing her arms to warm herself and sat down on a small stool in front of the fire to warm her hands. Ivar did not budge – if she didn't notice he was awake, then it was the perfect occasion to study her from up close. Apart from the few times she wanted to intimidate him into leaving, he never saw her this clearly.

That and this one time he saw her bathe, right before his fever took a hold of him. A memory that brought red to his cheeks and made him stir despite himself. She whipped around and stood up, grabbing her basket overflowing with all kinds of herbs Ivar couldn't identify for the life of him.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice coming out huskier than he expected. How long has it been since he last used it?

“You didn't take my warning seriously is what happened,” the witch replied, her voice sharp and final.

“Tell me,” Ivar insisted, coughing a bit to set his voice right. “I don't remember anything.”

She froze, her hands crushing a few herbs in her closed fist and looked straight ahead of her. For a moment Ivar thought she wasn't going to answer, or maybe even kick him out for being such a troublesome guest.

“My guess is that you ate poisonous mushrooms,” she finally said before setting to work again, cutting up some herbs, ripping the leaves off others, crushing certain flowers and throwing it all in a pot over the fire. She let it all brew and stirred occasionally, still turning her back to Ivar. “But I can't know for sure what it was. All I can tell is that your fever wasn't due to sickness or a weakness of body.”

Ivar grumbled something under his breath when he heard 'weakness of body' but he didn't say anything more than that. He should feel lucky he got an answer out of her. She was still draped in her black cape, the hood up even inside her house – probably for his sake and not just because she was still cold from her trip outdoors.

Truth be told he felt better than the last time he was conscious, but he was still heartsick, as though he was back on the boat that took him to Wessex, when he nearly drowned. His head was a haze, his memory hazardous as well, and his throat felt dry.

“I need water,” he said.

He saw her sigh more than he heard her, but the witch fetched a pitcher of water nonetheless. She poured some in a horn and came to sit next to him, holding it up for him to drink out of. Ivar drunk sloppily, all the while staring at her face, trying to see her from under her gigantic hood.

“More?” She asked when he was finished.

“Please,” Ivar said, the word burning his throat almost as much as the thirst.

She repeated the same operation as before and came back, and when Ivar had emptied his second drink he felt better.

“I suppose you must be hungry as well,” she said, not bothering to hide the slight annoyance in her tone. It made Ivar feel like a stray cat that ventured into someone's home and that now needed feeding.

“No mushrooms,” Ivar grunted, sitting upright on the makeshift bed.

It looked like she set him in front of the hearth to keep him warm, but this room had three doors, one of them leading outside, which meant the house was bigger than what Ivar saw from where he sat. She didn't give him her bed.

“I, unlike you, know my edible mushrooms from the poisonous ones,” she sniggered, obviously finding great amusement in the thought that her threats and the harsh weather didn't make him budge but a little mushroom nearly got the best of him. “You will eat whatever I give you, these times don't allow choosiness,” she added more seriously.

“I suppose you expect a thank you,” Ivar said in a mocking tone soon as she handed him a bowl of stew. He could see carrots floating in it, and potatoes. “But we wouldn't have come to his if you had agreed to listen to me in the first place.”

He couldn't see her clench her jaw but Ivar sure as Helheim heard her teeth screeching.

“It's not too late to kick you out of my house and let the wolves finish what the mushrooms started,” she warned him. “I gave you my answer the day we met: I won't do as you ask. I didn't leave you waiting for an answer young Viking, and it is no one's fault but yours if you don't accept it.”

His anger flared again, and Ivar was tempted to throw the bowl in her face, if only to make her finally show herself. Obviously he won't get his way with her like he did with most people. Most people were afraid of him and it made it easy to drop a few veiled threats here and there to bend them to his will.

The witch wasn't an ignorant people of Kattegat who lived in fear. She was in her home, Ivar was at her mercy in the middle of an unknown, dark forest full of dangerous animals in the early winter, and she knew for a fact that the most dangerous of them all was herself.

“Eat now, before it gets cold,” she told him, with that same motherly voice she used on him before. Ivar knew not how to refuse her when she used that voice and he was hungry anyway, so he obeyed.

“I know what tales your people must have told you about me, I know what they call me,” she started talking while he spooned the stew into his mouth, closing his eyes at the delightful taste and moaning when it warmed him from inside. “I've been spending a great deal of my time wondering what drove you to this length. What on earth would make you seek out the witch of Kattegat, the monster that eats children and bathe in the blood of men?” She asked.

Ivar recognized a rhetorical question when he heard one though.

“Then I thought perhaps you were the same as me,” she suggested. “Perhaps they drove you away because you were different and it scared them. But it just doesn't line up with the gold and land you promised me, should I accept to help you in your vengeful quest.”

He took mental note of everything she said, it would become food for thoughts later.

“If they drove you away then why don't you seek vengeance yourself?” Ivar questioned her, having finished his bowl.

Without asking if he wanted more, she gave him another serving. He didn't know if she was any good at brewing potions but he had never tasted a better stew in his life.

“They haven't, not really. But they would, given the chance,” she told him laconically.

“I do not understand you,” Ivar admitted, even if it pained him to do so.

“It is better if you don't. I don't wish to elicit pity, and I know you wouldn't sympathize with me even if I told you everything about me.” Ivar was about to protest. “Soon as you are better, I will lead you back to the path leading to your village, and we will never meet again.”

“No.”

“I won't house you forever, and you have already proven yourself quite bothersome,” she replied, squinting her eyes at him. “I have better things to do than to care for a crippled young Viking who wants nothing more than enslave me for my powers.”

“If you choose to stand by my side I shall do no such thing,” Ivar told her. “Together we could rule the entire world,” he assured her.

The witch blinked and stared at him in surprise before finally bursting in laughter. She stood up, wiping away tears and went back to her basket to put away her herbs now that Ivar was sated.

“I don't want to rule the world Ivar. I don't want to rule anyone but myself,” she told him, still laughing a bit. “You and I could not be more different it appears.”

“It seems so, yes...” Ivar agreed. “But it doesn't mean we cannot help each other. What would it cost you to help me? Why do you refuse so adamantly?” He wondered, attempting to drive out her motivations while she still felt talkative.

“I don't meddle with men. I have always lived away from your kind, who are wary of me, who scorn me, spit on me as I walk by. It might seem selfish or unfair to you, but you have no idea what you ask of me, young Viking. I cannot help you.”

“Then explain. Tell me why it is too much to ask. What is the cost?” Ivar insisted.

A gust a wind coming from nowhere suddenly made the doors and windows slam shut, and extinguished the fire in the hearth as well as all the candles he had lit in the room, and Ivar felt her presence looming over him after she'd dropped her basket to the floor.

It was like they were back in the forest on their first encounter, the shadows where everywhere, and his heart froze in shock. Ivar's breath caught in is throat, stricken with fear. He suddenly understood where her reputation came from.

“The cost! You always speak about cost! Cost, cost, cost!” She screeched at him, her voice transformed into something sharp and unpleasant. The sound pierced Ivar's ears, it felt like so many nails being driven into his skull. “You think you can buy everything? You can buy land, and thralls, and slaves. You can buy armies, loyalty, even a throne. But you cannot buy me, Ivar. You cannot buy my magic, and you certainly cannot repay me for what I already gave you.”

And just like that, the light came back. The windows opened, letting in weak rays of sunlight, and the fire in the hearth was just as roaring as it was before the witch's display of power. Her voice too was back to the clear, crystalline sound Ivar knew.

“Don't forget I saved your life. You owe me,” she said before storming into the next room, leaving Ivar to his thoughts.

A quiet mutual understanding was born between them from the moment Ivar understood who exactly he was up against, and developed a new sense of respect for the witch. The witch who vehemently refused to give him her name.

Somehow he managed to bargain his stay, and she accepted for obscure reasons he intended to find out. He hadn't expected her to accept and found it very suspicious that she did, but couldn't exactly complain as it provided him with more time to convince her that he was in his birthright to wage war against the usurper who killed his mother.

It seemed to emulate some kind of an emotion when he mentioned his mother, and so Ivar tried to coax answers out of her yet again, asking her about her family.

“I live alone,” she told him as an answer, but Ivar could tell she tried to elude the question.

“Where does you family live then? Surely you can't be all on your own. Someone must have helped you get all the tattoos on your back,” he told her nonchalantly while peeling vegetables as per her request – their deal was that Ivar could stay as long as he worked for it, and help bring food on the table and wood in the hearth. It had only been three weeks so far.

The witch dropped her knife, and it stayed stuck upright in the wooden floor. She was sitting fairly far away from him, still hiding from his eyes as much as she could, therefore Ivar couldn't see the expression on her face, but he guessed it.

“How do you know about that?” She asked him.

A chill ran down his spine, and the temperature of the room dropped all of a sudden.

“Don't pretend you don't remember,” Ivar replied, taking a bite out of a carrot.

“What are you speaking of?” She asked, the cold in her voice undeniable but not as chilling as seconds before.

“I know you saw me spy on your bathe,” Ivar said, without an ounce of shame.

He mused that she didn't have any reason to deny it either, or feel shame. She was a beautiful woman. Why she kept trying to hide her face from him was a mystery because as far as he could tell, he has seen it all.

She picked up her knife and slammed it in the table. At least it got Ivar's full attention, and he stopped looking at the damned carrots instead of taking her astonishment seriously.

“Ivar,” she said his name and it sounded like it came from inside his skull. “This never happened.”

“What do you mean it never happened? I didn't just make it up, how else would I know of the runes on your back?” He said, now looking at her.

He didn't appreciate that she tried to make him a liar, or doubted his word. Ivar might be many things, but he had honour and pride, and he wouldn't lie about watching a woman bathe.

“You mean these?” She asked, and under Ivar's started eyes she pulled back her sleeve to show the runic tattoos swirling around her wrist.

He thought he would never get to see them again, especially not any closer than he did on the day he spied on her.

He frowned. They didn't make any sense.

“I know you cannot read them,” she said upon seeing the confusion painting on his features. “What else did you see?”

His eyebrows rose up now, and he smirked.

“Plenty,” he stated in a manner that he wanted smooth, but it only earned him a stern glare. “You were bathing, witch. What do you think I saw? And shouldn't you know it too? You caught me staring that day.”

“It never happened,” she repeated, stressing each word this time. “Whatever you saw must have been a fever induced hallucination, I would never have let you spy on me bathing, let alone let you live if I caught you doing so,” she assured him.

Ivar could tell she told the truth, there was no mistaking the dangerous glimmer in her eyes. It had nothing to do with her being a powerful witch, and everything to do with her womanly pride.

“Then it must have been a gift from the gods,” Ivar stated. “It is a sign we were bound to meet.”

“It is a sign you ate hallucinogenic mushrooms,” she corrected him dryly. She didn't want to admit it out loud but Ivar must be right in some way. He does know about something she had always kept hidden from the eyes of the world, and that was no coincidence.

“You have no need for this hood now, witch,” Ivar told her, having resumed his cutting vegetable and cleaning mushrooms.

The words were spoken lightly, Ivar didn't think she would give him any mind, as her eyes were lost in the distance. She must be thinking over what he told her, and not even listening to him anymore. But suddenly he felt her eyes on him, and when he looked up, she had dropped her hood and undid the knot tying her cape at the base of her throat, letting the material slip to the floor.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight, and he stilled. He never got a good look at her up until now, however much he tried. He began to study her more closely in the dim daylight.

Her long hair was a mess of braids and beads and tangles along with feathers and leather strips. She wore a string of leather around her neck, to which she attached little bones she found on the forest grounds. Birds, rabbits, cats, dogs, foxes, does, chicken, and many Ivar could not identify. They hang around her neck and clicked with each of her movements.

Along with her current appearance, Ivar invoked whatever memory he had of her other attires. On cold days she draped a roughly cut fox pelt on her shoulders, the colour matching her hair and making her look like a strange animal. Her fingers were dipped in black, her nails long and sharp – or so he would have sworn after their first meeting, but now, when he looked at her hands he saw normal, clean, hands.

She carved the bones she picked up and stuck them through the holes in her ear lobes. She concocted various mixtures of many different colours that she used to paint her face along with the black charcoal around her eyes. She wore leather and bird skulls around her wrists. Jewels, she liked jewels.

There was not a hint of gold, not even iron. Wood and bones and stones, sometimes flowers were her source materials and she lived in complete harmony with her surroundings. Never disfiguring the face of he earth, never leaving permanent marks of her trace. Nature ruled over her and not the other way around. She was a wild thing, untamed, untouched, unreachable.

Ivar thought she wasn't so different from him after a few months of frequently seeing her, but perhaps he was in the wrong. Perhaps he wasn't up to the task he set himself to.

A ghost. She was pale as a ghost, and Ivar's understanding of the world shattered when he was finished taking in her appearance.

“What are you?”

Soon as he asked the question he felt stupid for it. He remembered the gentleness of her touch against his hot forehead during his fever, and decided she couldn't be a ghost.

“I am a woman,” she barked at him, as if he had somehow offended her. “I thought you, out of everyone, might understand that. After all I'm sure people have put your manhood in question because of your own... defects.”

She stomped away to the bowl of clear water and splashed some on her face to get rid of the paint and charcoal, washing it all away. Her cheeks beheld an angry red hue when she was done, but Ivar saw her more clearly than ever.

Her long white hair, and pale skin glowed even in the light. No wonder he had thought her a magical being in the darkness of the forest, no wonder he thought her eyes shining in the dark. She was the colour of a freshly fallen snow, still immaculate and free of footsteps. Her clear eyes stared back at him, waiting for a reaction.

“Are you even a witch?” He asked. “Or just another poor creature forgotten by the gods?”

A sadness tainted his voice, and she guessed that thinking about her own physical defects hit very close to his own. Still, she huffed lightly.

“Do you need to ask? Have I not given you proof enough yet?” She replied.

She had. They both knew it.

“I stand by what I said. You should understand better than anyone on this earth why I need your help in avenging my parents and retrieving their kingdom. You know my pain, and my frustration, you feel it too.”

“I only wish for a quiet life, one I am denied among men, but that the forest grants me,” she explained, sitting closer to him now. “If we are as alike as you say, then why can't you understand how I feel?”

“I supposed it is not in my nature. I was born a prince.”

“I was born a nothing. I know my place, and I stick to it. I like it. I do not aspire to anything more than what I already have, and I wish you can one day find the same kind of peace I have here,” she said, letting her hand rest on his elbow.

It was the first time she touched him. Ivar didn't count the time when he was sick, he was barely conscious. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm, and she must have felt it too because she withdrew her hand abruptly and looked at it in confusion.

“I'm sorry, I don't know-” She started, but was interrupted when Ivar pulled her to him, his arm holding her waist and pressing her to him.

She was warm, and soft under his hands. He could feel the gentle slope of her curves as he moved his hand up her body. She stopped breathing when his nose brushed against her own, he could feel her holding her breath. How long would she last?

Her own hands found a place to rest. One palm open above his heart, the other one of his shoulder. She was acutely aware of his proximity and how it affected her heartbeat and her ability to think straight.

She knew he was giving her a chance to push him away, or say no, but she stayed still, and listened to the steady beat of his heart under her palm, counting in her head in a vain attempt to slow down her own. How could he stay to collected?

“I have never kissed a witch,” he told her, his lips grazing against hers.

“Because I'm the first one you meet or because they all rejected you?” She somehow managed to ask, though her head was a mess.

“I knew I'd get you from the first time I heard about the scary witch of Kattegat,” Ivar told her, his hot breath making her dizzy. She tried to keep a clear head. “The tales the elders told us when we were children sparked my interest, even then. My brothers feared you, but I knew I'd find a soul mate in you,” he continued whispering seductively until he felt her lean in slowly, parting her lips ever so slightly.

He was about to close the remaining distance between them when she pulled away and laughed. Not mockingly, not to be mean, but Ivar still felt hurt in his pride when she stood up. But standing up she needed to do, because she couldn't keep the conversation going for much longer if he held her like that.

No man had ever touched her like this. No one who stumbled in her part of the forest ever treated her like a woman. She wanted to kiss him, oh yes she wanted it so very badly. But it was a bad idea.

“The tales of the elders!” She exclaimed. “How old do you think I am, Ivar?”

He frowned a bit.

“I think you have no age. That time doesn't affect you like it does mortal men,” he said, ignoring the growing grin on her face.

“This might be a disappointment to you, but I am not an ageless magical creature. These tales spoke of my mother, and her mother before her, and so on...” she explained, and light suddenly appeared in Ivar's eyes.

She could see the question forming in his head and chose to answer before he could ask it.

“They are dead now. Killed by your own.” Now a shadow fell before his eyes and his mouth twisted in anger and disgust. “Every now and again men think the witch is vulnerable, that age is a sign of her weakness, and go hunt the elder of my family. They think they killed the witch of Kattegat, but then the next in line replaces her, and the story repeats itself with each new generation.”

“I will put an end to it once I am king,” Ivar vowed. “With your help.”

“You never give up. I understand, I suppose it is a quality – most of the time. But I do not intend to live long Ivar, rather to live well.”

“You could have both. If you come back to Kattegat with me no one will dare lay a finger on you, you will be under my protection and that of my brothers. The fool who will defy the sons of Ragnar to get to you is not yet born,” he told her with so much certainty in his voice that she dared imagine what her life would be like if she agreed.

But she didn't consider the thought seriously, not even for a moment.

“I am so sorry,” she began, and Ivar's face fell. “You must think that I settled for this life of reclusion, but it did not. I chose it. I chose to stay away from men and their violence.”

“You must let some men into your life,” Ivar's tempered flare. “You are the daughter of someone, I would wager even witches need a man to have a child.”

She stepped back a little, blushing.

“We have our ways,” she admitted, looking away with dignity and refusing to meet his burning glare.

Ivar stood up now, using the table to keep himself standing.

“What of the male children? Do you throw them into the sea? Eat them?” He now accused her of all sorts of hateful things, and she knew it came from a place of anger and frustration because she denied him a kiss, and once again refused to help him, but his words stung all the same.

“If we birth a boy we bring it to its father,” she said, as detached as she could.

She hadn't experienced any of this herself, for her mother had only given birth to one child: her. These were tales to her, as much as the scary witch of Kattegat was a tale to Ivar. The children mauling witch.

“How do you lure the men to your bed? Do you venture out of your land and hex a poor passer-by, and then leave him with a child to care for if it turns out to be a boy?”

His accusations made her feel small, and little by little she stepped back until she stood in a corner, and Ivar advanced on her, having grabbed his crutches.

“No!”

“Do you use people and throw them away? Aren't you doing the very thing you reproach me?” He barked at her. “At least I have the decency to be honest about my intentions. I came here asking for help and offered something in return! What do you offer? A night between your thighs?!”

“Stop it!” She shouted.

Her voice came out disembodied and she filled the room, her shadows flaring about her until this corner of the house was but a pitch black hole and Ivar didn't know where the ground was anymore. The dawning realizing that he overstepped an invisible line came crashing down on him, but it was too late to take back his words.

“Another word and I will rip you apart you foul man!” She threatened him. “Do not test my patience, for its limits will come much quicker than you think. I will not stand being insulted in my own home another second!”

Her eyes now glowed red and fiery like the deepest pits of Helheim, and Ivar felt the ground quake and shake as if the entire house was connected to her in some way, trembling with indignation in face of Ivar's grotesque accusations.

When she reabsorbed the shadows and the ground felt steady again, Ivar collapsed, his eyes not leaving hers as they recovered their normal ghostly colour.

“Be careful where you direct your anger, Ivar,” she told him with her usual voice now. “I am not one of your thralls, you cannot yell at me and expect no consequences, and no reaction. I will not submit.”

“I don't expect you to.”

Feeling her own tempter rising, she scoffed and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. It was a downpour outside, the cold rain hitting her at hard as small drops of metal, and she didn't take her coat. No, instead she ran to the pond and dove in it.

She didn't calm down until she was under the surface, the water cancelling out any and all noise, even the one inside her.

Ivar hadn't stopped pacing around since she left, anguishing over what could happen to her out there in the cold and wild weather. He couldn't go out like that, he wouldn't make it back, and it wouldn't help if he got lost in the woods.

Though perhaps she wished for it to happen. He knew he crossed a line, and took his frustration out on her for no reason. His ego took a severe blow and his quick temper got the best of him. She never gave him any reason to think badly of her. She fed him, cared for him, gave him shelter, and trusted him with information she had never shared with anyone, and what did he do?

He pushed her away. Because every single person who ever cared for him had left him, one way or another. His father executed, his mother murdered, his uncle Floki self-exiled, who was left?

If he allowed himself to let this young witch into his life, would he have to watch her leave too? Did he want to take the risk?

All those weeks far away from home, from his brothers and from the politics of life, showed him life under a new perspective. She was right to refuse his invitation to accompany him to Kattegat. Her life here was much sweeter. The slow and steady pace of life was comforting, even Ivar could admit that, though his Viking blood boiled for war and raids.

She had a home here, a safe, undisturbed home that he violated. And if he took so much as a second to consider things from her point of view, he could easily understand why she refused so adamantly to help him, and thus engage with men and their pointless feuds.

He was so relieved when she came back that he thought he might pick her up if he could. He quickly assessed the situation, taking note that she was soaked through and through, shaking so much her teeth rattled.

“B-bath,” she breathed out.

Ivar first thought she was asking him to draw her a bath – which he never did and didn't know how to do, even if he was willing to oblige her. But then she walked past him, grabbing his sleeve as she did and lead him into the small adjacent room. There was a basin and while Ivar still wondered what she was doing, he saw it fill up all on its own.

The witch whispered something under her breath until it was filled to her satisfaction and steaming hot. She undressed before his eyes, her clothes sliding down her body and creating a puddle on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Ivar asked, a lump in his throat. He felt hotter than a minute before.

She didn't answer before she was fully immersed in the hot water and the trembling of her limps stopped.

“I'm taking a bath, it's really cold outside,” she said as though it was nothing. “Sit.”

“Don't order me around,” Ivar told her but did what she said anyway.

“You accused me of a great many serious things, Ivar, I think you owe it to me to listen now,” she declared with unwavering resolution. He couldn't deny her that.

“I am listening,” he told her. “I'm always listening.”

“Not always no, if you were you wouldn't have said those atrocities,” she replied.

While she was outside Ivar had vowed to not let his temper speak in his stead anymore, but the moment he heard this familiar aloofness in her voice he was tempted to scream again.

“Don't do that. You're not a detached person, you take things at heart,” he pointed out.

Her white hair clung to her face and she pushed it back, then grabbed the bar of soap sitting on the edge of the basin, still ignoring Ivar. It was maddening to speak to someone who obstinately refused to look at him!

“I was wrong to let you in as much as I did,” she said. “You took me by surprise with that strange dream of yours, but it was a mistake to tell you so many things about me.”

“I will not betray your trust,” he assured her. “If you don't give any credit to my word at least trust my selfishness. What would it bring me to share what I know? Information is power, and I know the witch of Kattegat now,” he added when he saw her wrinkle her nose upon hearing him ask her to trust him.

“Oh I know how much you value information. I know you will keep my secrets. But I still regret telling you. I regret thinking for a second that you weren't like the other men. That we were the same. My mother knew what men were like and I should have listened to her instead of taking pity on you and letting you into my home, my sanctuary. This is what I get for saving your life I suppose, being accused of murdering children and raping innocent men.”

Ivar swallowed thickly but stayed silent.

“No man is innocent,” she declared, her eyes finally settling on him. “Least of all you.”

“I know. I'm the one who murders men, women, and children. I'm the monster Kattegat should fear,” he said. “And I'm on a warpath.”

“So what am I in all of that?” She asked, her eyes pleading again, pleading for the truth, for relief. “A means to an end?”

“At first yes.” Relief did come when she heard the honestly in his voice, but it had a bitter after-taste. “I expected a quick exchange of favours and to never see you again, not that you'd take me in and care for me.”

“I do not care for you,” she told her, but her eyes disagreed.

“I care for you. And it'll get you killed,” Ivar said. “Which is why I am leaving on the morrow. You'll never hear of me again unless you seek me out yourself. In which case you will be welcome in Kattegat once I take it back.”

She wanted to believe him but his promises sounded empty. Her mother didn't die for this to happen. Her grandmother wasn't burned alive for her to make the mistake to trust a man's word.

“Allow me to make you one last offer before we part though,” Ivar added.

The witch closed her eyes. Of course. Of course he was only after her powers.

“What could you possibly offer me now? I already declined everything you were willing to give,” she scoffed, a bit more irritably than intended.

Would she miss bickering with him and hearing him promise her the world against the smallest favour? Yes, she would. But the longer he stayed the harder the toll on her when he would leave. In all honesty she was tempted to give him what he wanted just to get rid of him, and perhaps it was his strategy all along, to wear her out.

On the morrow. He would leave in a few hours. Why did it feel like a such a long time, and yet so short?

“Me.”

She froze.

“What are you even saying?”

“Me. I'm on the table now. You need a man, or you'll need one at some point, to have a child yourself.”

“Who says I want a child? Why would I want to bring a living being into this world only to see it suffer like I did for being different? If I had half a mind I would remain the last of my line until you fail to keep your promise and a group of angry men who blame the witch for their bad harvest come and kill me!” She exclaimed, and soon climbed out of the basin, wrapping herself in furs to keep warm.

She stomped off to her bedroom, and Ivar followed.

“You don't have half a mind, you have a whole, brilliant one. And I can tell you desire a child. Any girl your age would already have three in Kattegat.”

“You don't know my age.”

“I'll wager you are my age,” he said, crushing her weak argument. “You are lonely, and you seek connection. Otherwise you wouldn't have taken in a poor Viking cripple, let alone bear with my foul mood and mouth.”

“You do have a foul mouth,” she agreed, shooting him a serious yet somewhat amused glare that Ivar took as a positive sign.

“I came here to use you, and I regret it. If I wasn't so blinded with rage I would have seen past what the tales said. I would have seen the woman behind the witch. I do now.”

Couldn't Ivar see the impact of his words? She wore her heart on her sleeve and her face must have betrayed her emotions yet he didn't take notice of the anguish, the agony he put her into. Talking about children, about connection. What did he know about those things? He himself probably never thought about them or took them for granted. He had no idea how much it hurt to know that she might never get either.

“What do you want from me Ivar?!” She shouted at him, barely holding back the tears. “What will make you stop this sweet torture? I cannot bear it another second. Do you want me to drop a crown on your head? Make all your enemies drop dead this second? Bring back your parents? Make you an able bodied man? You seem to think I have endless power, that I can defy the gods, but I cannot!”

She sat down on the bed, still holding onto her furs, rage-wiping away the tears that fell down her cheeks.

“I told you from the moment we met that I cannot undo what the gods did. I cannot bring back the dead, or take lives without consequences. I cannot give you your legs back without sacrificing something else, I cannot- I... I cannot...” She hiccuped helplessly, slipping to the ground.

Ivar caught her before she hit the floor and lifted her back onto her bed, only now measuring the full extent of the harm his had done.

“You said it yourself, I owe you for saving my life. This way I will pay my debt to you, and if the gods see fit to give me a child, even one I will never see, then it will be compensation enough.”

“But I cannot use my magic for you,” the witch said again, as if to emphasis her powerlessness in this situation.

She drew her power from the earth, and gave back everything she took in various ways. What he asked of her- what he wanted her to do... it would require too great a sacrifice. This much power would kill her.

“The offer is on the table, I won't take it back. You decide what happens now,” he told her, still holding her against him. “Don't be afraid of what might happen if you have this child, my child. Whether you accept or not, witch hunting has come to an end, I will make sure of it. And if anything happened to my child, I would raise Hel and rain down on whoever touched her.”

“Do not talk like that.”

She couldn't listen to Ivar talk about her child, their child, as though she was already there, cradled in her arm, smiling up at her. Like they were happy parents who marvelled at their offspring and swore to kill anyone who laid a finger on her. The sheer thought tore her insides.

“Magic... is a curse, Ivar,” she managed to say in between two hiccups. “We are both cursed.”

“I know,” he said, once again wishing he could address her with her own name. “I know... But it doesn't need to be so always.”

It was snowing on Kattegat, and Ivar rose early this day. He always made sure to wake up before anyone else when the weather promised snow, because he wanted to see his kingdom covered in an immaculate blanket of untainted snow. No one had stepped out of their house yet, no one had disturbed the perfect landscape before his eyes.

Snow always reminded him of the witch. After their goodbyes he never saw her again, no matter how many times he tried to find his way back to her little house in the woods. People thought him mad.

Most thought him dead by the time he returned, and while he kept a secret where he had spent the last few weeks, his brothers guessed what he was up to.

“Did you find her?” Hvitserk had asked him elusively.

Ivar grinned and rustled his brother's hair, knowing he hated it.

“Find the witch? Do you still believe in children's tales Hvitserk?” He had said. The remark made Hvitserk grumble something and never bring up the subject again.

It all happened so many moons ago that Ivar wasn't entirely sure he could trust his memory, but on the other hand, how could he have made it all up? If he wasn't with the witch, where was he during those months he disappeared?

If he closed his eyes he could still see her smile. She hadn't done it often, but she did offer him a smile when she bid him farewell, her hands crossed over her stomach in a silent prayer, and that was the last picture Ivar had of her. He was glad it was a happy one. He wouldn't have been able to bear it if they had left things the way they were after their argument.

He had never consoled a crying woman before, and never thought he would be any good at it. Perhaps it was simply because he could never understand their sadness. But he understood the witch, as she did him. And he stayed with her until her tears ran dry.

He expected her to turn him down again, especially after she admitted – or rather after he finally understood, though she has been telling him in subtle ways all along – that she could not solve his problems with her magic, that it didn't work like that. But in the dead of night, he felt her slip under his furs, and when he turned around he saw her beautiful clear blue eyes asking him a silent question.

He answered with a kiss, and his hands found the tender flesh of her hips, relishing in her warmth and the soft feeling of her delicate skin under his rough hands. He had trailed his fingers up on down the runic tattoos on her back and those on her thighs.

This night was imprinted in his mind, and he couldn't shake it off. In the end he never knew if the night they spent together bore fruit, but he mused that he liked it this way.

He liked not knowing what his Ísdís's real name was. In the end he had to settle for a name himself, if only to think about her in another term than 'the witch', and settle on what she reminded him most of.

Yes, Ivar liked quiet winter mornings, before the usual hustle and bustle of Kattegat. Yes, sometimes he regretted having ever left the arms of his little witch, and even sought her out in the woods. But he still remembered what he told her – that she would never see him again after their night together, unless she came to him.

He liked to think that she watched him come and go, and smiled to herself. His Ísdís, his first love. He would never know what could have been. All he knew was that he wasn't brought a little boy wrapped in furs nine months after leaving her. He knew that in his old days he would once again go to the forest and seek her out. Maybe find a tomb engraved with the same runes that ornamented her body. He had memorised some of them.

But for now, she was alive, he felt it in his bones. He sensed her presence sometimes, and when he looked up and saw a raven, or an owl, or sometimes a fox lurking behind a tree, and just assumed it was her, watching over him.

He would never be entirely sure that he made the right decision when he left her, but it felt right in his heart.

She was a wonder. A mystery that should be left alone and unsolved, lest it lose its magic.

If you like my work please consider buying me a coffee <3

[Edit and moodboard by me, feel free to share/save/repost as long as you credit me]

A/N: The witch is obviously albinos. I didn’t state it explicitly because the word albinos didn’t exist before the 17th century.

Ísdís: Derived from Old Norse ís "ice" and dís "goddess".

This is indeed an ivar x Reader work, but written third person, and the name Ísdís is a name he gave her because she never revealed her name.

I tried to make it spooky but I’m not a horror writer and it shows (i think). But anyway, the goal wasn’t to make you crap your pants but to go a little off the beaten track and try something new (and something I haven’t read yet). Also it’s a 100% self indulgent work, because I’m very passionate about witchcraft and I was just waiting for the right time (and a valid excuse) to go witchy on your asses.

Spoopy Halloween everyone

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alexiela73 · 7 years

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What if reaper accidentally yelled at his s/o because he thought they got hurt and was really scared but he didn’t know that they’re really sensitive to loud noises so they end up crying?

Faster, you thought as you pushed your body as hardas you could go. The obstacle course was daunting, and most didn’t pass level 5 of the course. But you had already made it to level 9, and you were so close to finishing. If you could push your body just a bit more, you’d be able to make the jumps that few would dare to try, and most would fail to succeed

One of which included jumping off the side of a building. Below was darkness, and most thought of it as the pit of death. The jump had to be perfect if you were to land where you needed to, in the only area that would save you from breaking your legs if not dying from the fall.

You were positive you were able to calculate the landing, as you raced headlong toward the edge of the building, trying to build speed. The point of this one was to see how far you were willing to go, to see how far you could push your own limits and fears.

Despite the fact that your boyfriend had commanded you not to take part in the this training test, saying he’d make sure you passed none-the-less, you had shown up anyway against his wishes. If it couldn’t be for him, then it was to prove to yourself that you were capable.

God, you hoped you were capable.

Even as the first doubt built up in your mind, the muscles in your legs bunched up as you jumped with every bit of strength you hard. Propelling yourself, you made it perhaps seven feet from the side of the building before you felt your body start dropping.

At that moment, as the walls started rushing past you and the darkness below took over, you heard a roar. “NO!” There was no time to think about it though. It was over as fast as it had started, and instead of hitting the ground, you were caught by a net.

Heart pounding, you breathed out a sigh of relief as you bounced in the net. While you hadn’t exactly been worried initially, it was a relief not to be splattered on the ground and dead.

The net lowered and the lights came on. There net lowered further and to your surprise, the net really did only cover a small portion of that massive hole you’d jumped into. If you had jumped even two feet less then you did, you would have hit cement, you saw. Obviously most people died during this.

A wave of excitement filled you at your success, and you started to brush yourself off when rough hands pulled you around. Gasping, you looked up into the masked face of your boyfriend and immediately the color drained from you, knowing how upset he’d been before about you doing this.

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing here? I told you to skip the goddamn test!” Reaper roared, his voice loud and echoing against the stone building walls around you both.

Staring at him, stunned, you spoke slowly. “I…I didn’t want to skip it. I knew I could do it and look…I did. I passed-” you began.

Reaper shook you once, cutting you off. “I told you not to do this!” his voice doesn’t lower, and his words are like knives in your heart. “Do you not understand how close you came to dying? How stupid it was of you to do something this risky? What the hell do you think would have happened if you had missed the landing?”

Staring at him with wide eyes, you found it a bit hard to breath. Frozen, you couldn’t speak. Every time you tried to form a word, you lip would quiver and you’d have to press them tight just to hold back the tears.

This was the first time Reaper had ever yelled at you. Not once, nor had he ever sounded so harsh, not even when he was in a bad mood. It scared you, honestly, and hurt you in a way you couldn’t describe. All that pride in your accomplishment was blown to dust as you struggled not to collapse and curl into a ball crying.

Finally, you whispered, “But I did it for you.”

“I didn’t want you to,” Reaper said again, but his volume lowered this time as he stared down at you, finally noticing the way you trembled in his hands. The way you flinched as he stared down at you.

It hurt him to see you like that, but you had no idea how he felt walking in here to see which trainee Sombra had been talking about passing to the last level, only to find out it had been you. Only to see you falling, knowing that there was a 5% chance of you hitting the net in the darkness.

His heart had nearly exploded, and in that moment it was like the world had become meaningless once more. Empty. Because that’s how it would be, without you in it. No matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings, Gabriel Reyes and Reaper were one person and he loved you, more then life itself. Not even his revenge meant as much as your life.

Breathing hard, Reaper’s grip slowly loosened but he didn’t let you go. “I don’t think you understand how close I just came to losing you, y/n. As much as I deem myself a monster, I must still have a heart because it shattered when I saw you fall. I almost lost you and the last little bit of happiness I had left in the world,” Reaper said, his voice becoming quiet as he struggled to keep himself calm.

Your lips parted as you stared up at him, the tears escaping your eyes as you began to comprehend his words.

Stepping closer, Reaper felt you flinch but didn’t stop as he pulled you close in his arms. “I wish…I could make you see how important you’ve become to me. And I know I don’t say it as much as you’d like but I love you. More then words can describe,” Reaper said softly, holding you tight and reaching up.

Something fell and hit the floor, and when you looked you saw it was his mask. Lifting your head, you saw the tears in his eyes, saw the many scars that covered his face… and in his eyes, he laid himself out like an book for you, letting you read everything that he tried so hard to shield from you and others...

Cupping his face, you managed to swallow the lump in your throat before you pulled his head down, resting your forehead to his. “I...I’m sorry, Gabe. I didn’t...I didn’t mean to scare you like that. This was important to me though....but not as much as you are,” you said gently, lips curving at the edges.

How often did Reaper reveal himself like this, and indulge you in the truth of his feelings and thoughts? Even as scary as it had been to have him yelling, you had never understood how much you mattered to him until this moment.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” he said quietly, closing his eyes as his forehead remained against yours. “I shouldn’t have scared you like that either.”

Shaking your head, you brushed the softest of kisses to his lips before hugging him tightly, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Next time we’ll both be more careful,” you murmured, and the two of you stayed there for some time.

“Y/n...” Reaper said after a few minutes of silence. It was nice, holding each other, just soaking in the warmth and love you both shared, even if Reaper would likely never admit this ever happened again.

Unmoving, you just murmured, “Mhm?” This was a moment you needed to savor as long as you could, because it would be a long time before the next.

“....I’m proud of you.”

Heart beating quickly, you knew you could not love anyone as much as you loved him.

#Reaper #Reaper x Reader #Reaper Overwatch #Gabriel Reyes #Gabriel Reyes x Reader #Overwatch #Overwatch x Reader #Overwatch Imagines #Overwatch Stories #Overwatch Writings

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smokeandjollyranchers · 7 years

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This is a Drabble based on @snorlaxlovesme headcanon that Wes had weapon blood the entire time!! Sorry it took so long to post apparently there’s a max on posts now.

When Wes is seven, he accidentally cuts through all the strings on his violin.

There’s a future for him in music, and he thinks he wants to see where that leads.

There’s a thump on his door, followed by a giggle. Wes smiles to himself, hopping off his bed to open the door. Barely two, Soul comes wobbling into his room, entire fist in his mouth. Wes watches his chubby little brother crawl up in a chair and waits, pointing at the violin. “Alright little brother, but it might take me a second.”

Nah, if Wes tells anyone about his little trick, he would get sent off to that school, and he’d miss everything. He has a place to be, and it’s right where he is, teaching his little brother how to hold a bow.

The house is tense, and it has been for at least two years. Soul ran into his preteens dripping with social anxiety and an inferiority complex Wes’ very existence flames, even if he has no part in it. Soul found himself sitting at the piano when he was three. His mother spends the next year teaching her son everything she knew about the keys, and melodies, and sound and passion. Soul runs with it, he creates symphonies that sound real, he effortlessly creates emotions in the resonance of the sounds against the wall.

It’s terrifying and it makes Wes feel alive. It completely lacks structure and rules and it’s wild, it’s original, it’s everything a musician could beg the Gods for, and he has to watch as his father’s misguided attempts at helping Soul are quickly crushing that gift. His little brother is barely eleven, and he’s already got such a heavy frown. Wes passes the living room once, hearing his brother’s music for the first time in a while. The notes are unsure, as if they’re treading a cliff with weak spots. Each step they take could mean doom, but each step that doesn’t kill them is exhilarating, the danger as intoxicating as the fear. Soul stops much too soon, and Wes can just barely hear him hiss But it’s not enough like Wes.

Wes wants to bust in there like Superman, kicking down the door with a gust of wind to push back the cape he isn’t wearing, but a clang of notes, then Soul’s very clear FUCK echo in the room, and suddenly Wes is inside and he’s staring at cracked keys and the blade that replaces Soul’d arm. They meet eyes, both of them speaking at once.

“HOLY SHIT I DIDN'T MEAN TO-“

“HOLY SHIT ARE YOU OKAY-“

Unlike Wes, they can already hear their mother’s heels approaching them at inhuman speeds, and his brother meets his eyes, fear glazing them over. “They’re gonna be pissed.”

Wes shakes his head, standing in front of his brother as their mother’s screeching gets closer. “I won’t let them be.”

It was a hobby when he was younger, before he had a sibling and there were just adults over all the time. He’s tried to break the habit, after all, he’s off to college in a year and he really shouldn’t be hiding in the laundry room which just so happens to have a vent that’s connected to the kitchen where his parents are talking about his brother.

“I don’t like it.” His father repeats, the sound of ice clinking against his glass as he drains his drink punctures his words. “It’s dangerous.”

“So is being unable to control when a blade pops out of your skin!” His mother counters, pouring them fresh drinks. “He needs to know how to control it. And I don’t think even you could teach him that. They have teachers there who are trained for this.”

“I wouldn’t say teachers, more like generals. Our son isn’t even twelve. I’m not handing him over to the military.”

“What if that’s what he wants?”

“He doesn’t know what he wants!”

Wes blinks at that, suddenly feeling like an idiot. What does Soul want? He figures he might have a hell of a time up against him, trying to get his little brother to talk about his feelings.

He’s never been more wrong before.

Soul is babbling before he even answers his door. His thoughts fly out of his mouth a thousand miles a second, and he’s left retaining more information from his brother than he had in the last eleven years.

Holy shit what if I go and I die but what if I stay and I stab someone what if I’m on stage when it happens what if I go and no one wants me what if I stay and no one wants me I’m a freak why do I have to be the freak.

Wes wants to tell him, he wants to smack his hand across the little dude’s mouth and tell him that he’s not a freak. Or maybe they’re freaks together, but he wants to tell him so badly. But then his brother looks up and him and whispers. “I think I need to get out of here tho.”

Wes pauses, and considers his options. He could tell Soul he isn’t a freak, and that he can stay and they can hide it just like he hides his and it’ll all be okay, because they can look out for each other but...but he doesn’t tell him that. He’s going off to school soon, and that just leaves Soul here, alone and hiding the one escape the universe has offered the kid. He can’t take that away from his brother, as much as he really wants to.

“Then we’ll get you there.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” Wes promises, ignoring the uneasiness that’s pulsing through his veins. He wants to take it back, honestly. Maybe it’s not too late to call this whole thing off and hide the damn scythe in his brother. Wes isn’t going to lose Soul, not to something like that. He goes to wrap an arm around his brother and Soul flinches, pulling into himself.

“No...I...I don’t wanna accidentally hurt you or something.” Soul whispers, not meeting his brother’s eyes. Wes frowns, hugging him anyways.

No, Soul needs to go the school, and as much as Wes wishes that it could be him to help his brother through this, he knows he gave up that honor when he decided that he wasn’t going to show anyone the blade in him, and this was the path they still have.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

Wes is twenty one when he gets a call in the middle of the night.

He’s not sleeping, of course, he’s too busy doing body shots off random girls and making out with at least three of the boys on the Defensive Line at his school. The social science major he’s currently taking a shot off of points at his pocket, where he hopes she’s referring to the outline of his phone screen lit up, and not the half hard cock he’s had trouble controlling. He excuses himself, and stumbles into the cool air outside the bar. “‘Llo?”

“Weston! Soul’s been hurt!” His mother’s voice is loud, and her words don’t land as fast as he would like.

“Fuck, where?! Where do I go?!”

Three hours after that, he’s sobering up on a plane towards Nevada. He uses three air sickness bags.

When he’s finally in Death City, it’s the middle of the night again.

He’s a little surprised they just let him in, but none of the doctors care to stop the white haired man jogging through the hospital. He finds Soul’s room what feels like hours later, and lets himself in.

His mother has been there. There’s white orchids in a vase, which she swore promoted healing, and he can still smell her perfume around them. She hasn’t been gone long, and that makes Wes feel a little better about Soul having been left alone.

His brother is taller, his hair falls in his face and he’s almost got stubble on his face. He’s also covered in wires, and though the majority of the wound is covered by bandages and tubes, Wes can just tell how horrible it was, and how much pain he has to be in. His hands come to rest on Soul’s face and he sighs. “Little man, hey, Soul? You there? Come on man. Solomon, please.”

His brother grimaces at his full name, and he cracks an eye open. The red is cloudy, no doubt from shock and morphine, but Soul still places him, a confused smile on his face. “Wes? What’re’ya doin’ here?”

“I came to see you. Thought we could catch a movie, pick up some chicks? Maybe dudes? What are you into lately?”

Soul chuckles, letting his eyes close again. “Really?”

“I also heard you almost d-died so-“ Wes tries, he really tries not to let his voice crack or let Soul see how scared he is, but he can’t help it and suddenly he’s crying. Soul’s hand finds his brother’s face and he lightly taps his cheek.

‘M okay. M’ka was gonn’ just die. I coul’n let her.” His brother whispers to him. “Sh’s m’ Meister. Don’ cry ‘round her. She feels bad.”

“I won’t.” Wes promises, getting himself together. “You can rest okay? I’ll be here.”

“Nah, go get som’ actual rest. ‘M fine.” Soul insisted before sleep claimed him again. Wes scoffs, heading straight for the bench by the window. He sits in silence for a half hour, until he’s sure Soul is out, and he brings his hands to his face.

For the first time in years, Wes pulls the metal from his skin. His reflection looks back at him from the blade, and he looks bad. Soul almost died. His little brother was almost dead before he could grow an actual goddamn beard and he was almost dead. How could anyone want this life?! How was this better than growing up at home!? He should’ve stayed and protected his brother. They should’ve hidden his blade like Wes had, then he could’ve spared Soul this pain-

He did this. Why did he let Soul come here?! There was nothing but death for him here. And Wes had lead the fucking parade to get him here. Tears flooded from his eyes, but he didn’t make a sound. He sits there for another hour, crying that he wasn’t able to protect his little brother. And he’s just supposed to leave him in this room now? Sore and broken and alone? Wes clenches his jaw until it pops, and he shakes his blade from his hand. He pulls the threadbare blanket over himself and closes his eyes.

No, he’ll be right here.

He wakes up before dawn, the sound of the door alerting him to what could possibly be his mother.

Instead, he’s caught in a staring contest with a little blonde, her green eyes frozen in shock when she stares at him. He probably looks just as confused, and they stare at each other for a few moments. “Who…” she speaks first, eyes darting over to Soul. “Who are you?” She tries again, voice a little braver.

“Wes, I’m his brother.” He explains. Her face goes pale in real time and she tries to stutter out a sentence. For the life of him, he isn’t able to translate her words and he holds up his hands. “Whoa, okay. Hold on now, it’s okay, what’s wrong?”

“I...I’m...I’m so sorry.” Her eyes fill up with tears and suddenly she’s sobbing, hands covering her face. “I am so sorry! This is all my fault! He told me not to go in there and I didn’t listen an—“ Her sobbing got worse and Wes felt himself begin to panic too. “And then I tried to hide from his family what is wrong with me! I’m so-“

Wes is up and hugging her, mostly because he has no idea what to do next. The girl slumps into his hug and she sobs. “I’m a terrible Meister.”

Meister. “You’re Maka.”

The girl nods, her sobs quieting a little. He lets her go, and she wipes at her tears. “I’m—I’m sorry about that.”

“He’s told me a lot about you.” Wes starts, unsure what else to say. “Says you’re the smartest person he’s ever met. Except when you’re not.”

She laughs then, a fond smile on her face. It fades when she looks back over at him, and the mess of his body. “God I almost killed him.”

“I know my brother pretty well.” Wes smiles at her. “If he got hurt protecting you, that was his choice. Unfortunately it’s hard to talk Soul out of a stupid decision.”

“Yeah.” Maka agrees, going over to Soul. She pushes some of his hair off of his face and she smiles. “Before we left for this mission, I yelled at him for clogging the drain with all his hair. He’s like a cat, it gets over everything. I am such an asshole.”

“Nah,” Wes waves her off, getting settled on the bench again. “That shit is annoying. And if I know him, the first thing he’ll do when he gets home is clog it right back up.”

That made Maka giggle again, and Wes closes his eyes. “I’ll be here if you need something, but stay. I’m sure my family would love to meet you.”

She nods, looking at him again. It feels different this time, like she’s seeing through him. “...Does he know? That you’re a weapon too?”

Wes’ eyes pop back open, and he looks over at her “He’s the only weapon in the family.”

PMaka nods, turning her attention back to Soul. “I’ll leave that to you, then.”

The year Wes graduates with his Masters, the moon turns black.

It’s Arma-fucking-geddon and he mostly laments he spends his entire life in higher education if this is where the planet was going. It was thought to be a natural phenomenon until news crews release the news that it is fact the work of the Kishin, the evil creature Soul has been after for the last few years. He’s horrified when he makes that connection.

He’s goddamn distraught when the news crews show that his brother is up there.

God he thought the injury had him scared. He and his family watch the news faithfully. Wes is almost positive his father doesn’t sleep the entire time, instead he sits in his office with the small tv going, and they wait. All they can do is watch and wait and pray that somehow Soul survives this. Wes makes mistakes weekly, he forgets appointments and never calls back when he says he will and he can’t remember the last conversation he had with Soul. He’s sure it was about something normal, maybe it was about that new CD, or it might’ve been Soul asking him about girls, and why he isn’t able to talk to them.

Wes watches the monster shove his hand through Maka’s chest when the news feed cuts out. His mother is screaming and Wes can hear himself cry no before the screen goes back.

Wes gets a phone call from Soul exactly 14 minutes before the news was able to let the world know they survived.

The phone doesn’t even ring once before Wes has it shoved against his ear. Soul barely says Hi before Wes is sobbing again. I thought you were dead! Is Maka okay?!

Soul sounds dazed when he answers, but he confirms that he’s alive. Maka is alive, his friends are alive. He...did lose a friend up there, but they wanted to save everyone. It isn’t long before Soul is sobbing into the phone too, and Wes is already booking tickets to Death City in his tablet while he cries with his brother on the phone.

I never thought I’d make it.

“I knew you would.” Wes sniffs, wiping his tears from his eyes. “You’re a superhero, little man.”

“I’m really not.”

“You really are! You and Maka both! You saved the world.”

He can hear his brother crying, but for the first time Wes can remember, it’s out of happiness, not pain. He sounds lighter than he has in years when he blubbers out if Wes is gonna come see him.

Wes is actually going to be there in 15 hours, but he’s gonna let that be a surprise.

It’s six months after the Moon went Black when Soul realizes who he is to his brother.

He and Maka are sprawled on the couch, their limbs tied together. They’ve been on hold for missions for now, until the DWMA determines their mental health stable enough again. The rest is tedious at first, but eventually they settle into a routine of therapy and training. Getting muscles awakened before they went back to work.

They spend most their nights on the couch, watching trashy tv and trying to let their souls work through the darkness they brought home with them. Maka finds Wes’ latest concert on a channel she didn’t even realize they had, and they watch the tail end of his concert.

After, he sits at a big table, microphones in his face as he’s asked all sorts of questions in all sorts of languages. Soul translates what he can for Maka, and they relax, poking fun at the way Wes is constantly pushing his bangs from his face.

A reporter stands up next, her hair a mess of pens and pencils. “Is it true that your little brother is Soul Evans? The last Death Scythe who helped seal the Kishin in the moon?”

Wes beams, sitting up straighter. “Yes! That’s absolutely my little brother! Isn’t he amazing?!”

Maka “awhs”, then stops when she realizes Soul’s pretty much stopped breathing. His eyes are lined with tears, and there’s a funny smile on his face.

“You know, my whole life, people have been asking me about Wes. About what it’s like to have a genius for a brother, a true talent, greatest musician of our age. And every time I said ‘I love it’, because I did. He was the coolest person I knew and...and I always thought….I was always second...and….” They watch Wes again, still going on about how amazing his brother was.

“He took something that the majority of the world still falsely see as stigmatized, and he saved them all. I know how weapons are treated on the whole, and the way a majority of people look down on them, but I honestly don’t know how they could ever do that. Soul helped save us all, even the ones who were perfectly content to treat him and the others just as brave as him like trash. Definitely makes you think, huh. But instead, he owned the piece of him that made him so special in the first place, and I am damn proud of him.”

Soul let the tears fall now, a smile on his face. “I’ve got the best brother, you know?”

Maka smiles, resting her head on his chest again. “I know.”

#soul eater #evans brothers #soul evans #wes evans #maka albarn #smokey writes

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burgeonmeraki · 4 years

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20 Random Things You Don’t Know About Me

Hi guys! I thought I would do something a little fun, humiliating (LOL), and different on my blog today and share 20 things you might not know about me. I get it. As a reader, I, too, love learning a bit more about the people I read. So here goes!

1. I have this weird habit where I want my feet warm especially at night before I go to sleep. I usually put some lotion on it and then put my socks on. And if there are no socks, I put a pillow under my feet, like I'm a mermaid LOL. Weird, I know! But it prevents me from having leg cramps in the morning.

That is my trophy for the singing contest. This picture was taken 2010, and I couldn’t find my trophy anymore so deal with that picture. Just kiddin’

2. I won first place at a singing contest at a talent show back when I was in kindergarten. I sang this 90s hit song My Heart Will Go On By Celine Dion. And I believe that if my parents put me or enrolled me in a voice lesson, girl, I could've been a singer today, and I might be joining singing contest like The Voice. But I only do the singing thing at the shower and karaoke. Hahaha

Left Pic: My oldest brother wasn’t there because he was working abroad Right Pic: My oldest sister is living in Canada, and my older brother is living in South Korea. My mom was holding her phone because that's them on the videocall.

3. I was supposed to have six siblings so that would make us a total of seven. I had an oldest sister, supposed to be the second child, who died because of some complications in her heart when she was still a newborn. Next is my Ate Jaz, which makes her my oldest sister alive. Then after Ate Jaz, my mom had a miscarriage. Basically, my Ate was in between two dead babies. And if ever my two siblings were alive today, I might not be here or I probably don't exist. I have such a huge age gap with my siblings because my mom had me at the age of 38, and she said that I was her only child who made her pregnancy and giving birth so hard. I was born via C-Section and the rest of my siblings were all delivered normal. So, lucky me for being here! LOL

My collection of Candy Magazine back in High School.

4. Back in High School, I used to collect Candy Magazine until first-year college. This magazine helped me with all my teenage issues like self-esteem, body image, peer pressure, beauty, fashion, dating, friendship, career, etc. They have a bunch of articles there that I enjoyed reading. And I've always wanted to be one of their models, but I was an ugly duckling, and I'm not the confident type of girl back then. I still kept these magazines inside my sentimental box.

This is my box full of photos, letters, diaries, and other stuff.

5. Speaking of the sentimental box, I'm a very sentimental person. I have boxes of stuff from my friends, family, and ex-boyfriends. I kept this stuff for good memories purposes because I like reminiscing good memories. It reminds me of these real moments that I was once shared with these people, and it's like my return ticket to that memories, whether it's funny, romantic, or sad. Plus good times need to be remembered. They need to celebrate and felt. You know, we're not getting any younger anymore, time will come that a part of our brain might forget those memories. So keeping pictures, letters, and diaries is one way to keep those memories alive.

These are my IDs from the Youth Camp Fellowship.

6. I used to be active in Church back when I was in High School. I even joined the Music Ministry and tried to learn how to play the piano. I went to a few Youth Camp Fellowship and met a lot of people, and it was fun. The reason why I became so active in Church because I had a crush on our drummer guy (he’s my first kiss). Yuck! LOL

vimeo

Love Me Like You Do By Ellie Goulding (Short Clip) / Stay By Rihanna (Cover)

7. As I was saying on number 6, I used to play the piano before. They made us choose a musical instrument that we want to play, and I was supposedly gonna go for drums because it's cool, plus I used to listen to a lot of rock bands back then, but I didn't choose it because my crush is going to be the one who's going to teach us, and I was shy, so I end up with piano. I actually tried learning how to play the guitar but you got to have callouses on your fingers in order to play it well because it freaking hurts girl! Hehe

8. Okay, let's talk about Puppy Love. When I was in grade school, I have a crush on this guy who's like 3 years older than me, and he's our neighbor. When I got into 6th grade, he started noticing me, and we became, I don't know, together? Like boyfriend and girlfriend? Haha. But since I'm a shy type kind of girl, I was having a hard time talking to him without blushing, I couldn't even let him hold my hands, or hug me, or kiss me. None of that happened. So we write letters to each other (cellphone is not a thing at that time). I know it's all cheesy and mushy and all, but anyways. I asked my niece to be our messenger haha. So I will give the letter to her, and she will give it to him, and then vice versa. Okay, so this is the funny part!! My niece left my goddamn letter for him at our dining table! And my sister and brother read the whole thing. I was so annoyed at my niece. My siblings were like mad at me for having a boyfriend at such a young age because you know, I'm their little sister, and little sissy is not allowed to have a boyfriend LOL. And then they threatened me that they're going to tell it to my mom, so I broke up with him after a week using a letter haha. We kept in touch til I got into High School. I think we went out before, we watch a movie but I brought a chaperone with me. HAHA we didn’t end up together because he’s such a playboy. FYI: I don't count him as my ex-boyfriend. LOL

youtube

9. I had a puppy named Mocha because she’s dark brown and it suits her. She’s a shih tzu and she’s the cutest puppy in the world but she died because she got sick. I miss her so much! :(

Snorkeling at Coron, Palawan.

10. I love going to the beach. I love swimming! My mom’s sister owns a beach resort and it was just an hour away from our place. We always go there every summer, and that’s where I learned how to swim, not in the swimming pool, but in the ocean. I was supposedly going to be a swimmer. My 4th grade teacher trained me, and he trained other students in other sports like badminton and volleyball, and they joined sports competition, and they win medals. So I got very interested because I want to win medals too. So I did my training but I was having a hard time to dive. I know I'm doing it wrong because the water kept going inside my nose and it freaking hurts. So I stopped and quit the training because I couldn't do it properly. Haha

I think I was in 3rd Grade in here. Lol

11. I joined Girl Scout back in grade school. I can't remember why I joined. All I know is I am going to have a lot of fun in here. And that was my first camping experience. We camped out at our school, and yeah, it was fun and scary at the same time because there are lots of ghost stories in our school. Our motto: "Girl Scouts are always ready and prepared.”

I also joined Drum & Bugle. I was a Majorette, the one who throws the baton in the air and twirls it. I just love to dance back then, and nope, I'm not a professional dancer. It's just that life is better when you dance! :)

Junior Year High School. Cheer Dance Competition during our Intramurals Day.

12. When I got into High School, I've always wanted to join Cheer Dance Competition since I was in my freshman year. But most of the girls in my school back then were all pretty and mean. I only joined when I was in my junior year, and we won 2nd place. I'm really not a good dancer, but I know I've got moves. I just don't know what happened today LOL. I'm one of those girls who they always lift and toss because obviously in the picture I'm thin as a rake haha. Then I tried joining again in College, and I got into an accident. I freaking fell flat on my back while we're doing our pyramid stunt and no one's there to catch me. Ouchie! I'm on the second level, standing on my right leg at this guy's shoulder, and then my left leg was angled and lifted because on the third level, a girl's going to stand on my left thigh. She was scared and not keeping her balance well so she dragged me backward with her. Someone caught her and none for me because the way I go down the pyramid is by jumping in front. Our coach didn't see that coming and I thought I am gonna go home with broken hips.

Left to Right: Elementary Graduation Day; Sophomore Year in College; Junior Year - wearing retainer; Retainer and Braces Free

13. I first had my braces when I was in 6th grade because my sister got one, so I want one too LOL. I had it for a very long time. Since I got it at such a young age, my teeth were not complete yet. And based on my x-ray, I've got several impacted wisdom tooth that's going to come out so my doctor waited for it. I only got it removed when I was in my 3rd-year college. So I had my braces for 7 years. HAHA

14. I can’t whistle. I tried. I don’t know how to. I can’t do it. PERIOD

Cupcake Nail Art, Cheetah Print Nail Art, Polka Dots Nail Art

15. I love doing my nail art from when I was in High School to College. I don't like my nails plain and simple back then, so I put a design on it and make it fun. I'm always into art and being creative. Creativity is inventing, experimenting, growing, taking risks, breaking rules, making mistakes, and having fun. So my parents saw that potential in me, and they made me choose Architecture as my profession.

These are my high school arts that I saw on my facebook LOL.

Circa 2015. Photographed By: Iks Virina

16. I'm not a morning person. I hate waking up so early. I only wake up so early if I have important errands to run or if I have to go to work. I love sleeping during the day and staying up during the night. I'm a night owl. There's something about being up at night that makes it more peaceful to work and think. Most of my creative juices come out during the night. And I've read that night owls have better mental alertness than early risers. I don't need caffeine to keep me up at night. LOL

Circa 2015. Photographed By: Iks Virina

17. I'm not a coffee person. Don't get me wrong, I love the smell of coffee. It's just that the coffee doesn't like me at all. Every time I drink coffee, especially those with high caffeine like espresso, I end up palpitating and having heartburn. I can drink it but not too much, and sometimes I preferred Frappuccino. I'm more of a tea person. I love chamomile and red berries flavors.

FEU I.D. vs BPSU I.D.

18. I went to two schools back in College. When I was in my senior year in High School, I didn't really plan my college life. I have no idea what school I am going to attend. I only know was my mom wants me to take up Architecture even though I don't want to. So yeah, I end up going to Far Eastern University for 2 years. Then, my Dad, he was working abroad in Libya, and there was a war at that time in the Middle East. So they had to go home and stopped working. We have no income, we had financial issues, and that's when I decided to return home and study in my hometown, get a scholarship because I have no choice. I was in college for 6 years, supposedly 5 years only but I had to retake some of my subjects that I already took up in my previous school because the school didn't credit it.

Back in 2015, I tried to dress up like Blair Waldorf. She loves wearing headband hehe

19. My favorite show of all time is Gossip Girl. It's like the first rated r tv shows that I really got hooked up and fall in love with. It's the reason why I've always wanted to go to New York. I have watched this already a few times, and it doesn't get old. I love Serena Van Der Woodsen (Blake Lively), her style, and the way she carries her clothes. She's this free-spirited, charming, nice, laidback IT GIRL. And then Blair Waldorf (Leighton Meester) aside from her classy, preppy style, I like her domineering and loyal personality. Plus her romantic on and off love affair with Chuck Bass (Ed Westwick). But my biggest crush on this show is Nate Archibald (Chace Crawford), oh god I love his eyes, it's so sexy! HAHA

Sandbox Adventure at Pampanga; Bike Trailing and Wakeboarding at Nuvali, Laguna; and Skimboarding at Boracay

20. I love some good adventure. I have this bucket list of things to do before I die, and I want to fulfill that. Like traveling the whole world, plus I want to go skydiving or bungee jumping. Aside from that, you're just not creating memories, you're also trying new things. And I'm always up for trying new things, and I like challenging myself sometimes. Life is boring if you don't at least try or go out of your comfort zone. Just try new things once in a while, and don't be afraid to soar high.

What’s something random about you? And if you make a post, share it below. Thank you so much for dropping by!

Love Lots, Jamie

#lifestyle

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buckyscrystalqueen · 7 years

Text

A Puppy For Bucky

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy, fluff, angst.

Word Count: 4,782

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Driving a motorcycle was scary in and of itself. Driving a motorcycle in New York City was down right terrifying. But driving a motorcycle, in New York City, on Black Friday when it was snowing was down right suicidal.

You zipped through traffic as fast as you could while still being safe, cursing yourself for being late to work. You spent half of your drive swearing at ignorant tourists that ran into the middle of the road without looking and the other half laying on your horn as you raced through Midtown Manhattan. You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t notice the cab that jumped the line at the red light as you bobbed around a group of people more concerned with their cell phones than traffic. You careened into the side of it and flew over your handle bars. With a loud yelp, you slammed into the unforgiving pavement and rolled a few feet before coming to a stop on the ground.

“Goddamn son of a bitch.” You grumbled as you reached up slowly and unbuckled your helmet as passersby raced to your aid. “Mother fucking, good for nothing, cock sucking scumbag piece of shit.” You pulled off your helmet and slowly sat up as a man rushed to your side.

“Go slow, doll. That was a pretty nasty spill.” You nodded in agreement as everything started to spin violently.

“I think… I…” You reached out and grabbed his arm for balance as you swallowed down some bile in your throat. You looked up into piercing blue eyes… three spinning sets of them. “Can you stop moving?” You asked before your vision tunneled and everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything hurt. You felt like you had been… well, hit by a car. With a groan, you slowly forced your eyes open.

“Fuck, man.” You groaned as you were blasted by a blinding white light. You groaned again and swung your arm up to cover your eyes and you yelped as something hard whacked you in the face. “Jesus Christ!”

“Hey, easy doll.” You heard a man’s voice say.

“Turn off the lights, dude.” You growled as you gently laid your arm back across your eyes. You heard him chuckle slightly before the sound of his boots crossed the floor followed by the flick of the light switch. You raised your arm and opened one of your eyes. You blinked a couple times to bring the room into focus. You saw a long haired, handsome man standing at the end of the bed and your brow furrowed.

“Why do I know you?” His eyebrows shot to his hair line as he shook his head. Your eyes quickly ran up and down his body as you tried to place the man as he walked over and sat down on the bed by your ankles.

“Umm… I don’t…” The memory clicked as you caught a glimpse of metal at his wrist.

“You’re James Barnes. I was actually going to call you today.” He stood up slowly and took a step back.

“How do you know my number?” You shook your head, groaning at the pain that ricocheted through your skull.

“Hey, wait. Sorry. I don’t mean to scare you. You applied for a service dog a while back. I work for the VA’s service dog program…” His face almost instantly softened and he let out a breath he was holding.

“Sorry. I just…” You nodded in understanding as you pat the bed by your knees.

“I don’t really think sometimes before I talk. I could blame it on the concussion I apparently have but… it’s just me.” He smiled and you felt your heart almost instantly melt.

“So that would explain why you have a file about me in your bag.” You nodded and chuckled.

“Yep that would… wait, you went through my backpack?” You looked up at him curiously and smirked as a blush raced to his cheeks.

“I… uhh… I was looking for an emergency contact for the cops. Then I had to figure out who you were…” You nodded slowly, taking note that the slow motion didn’t bother your head so much. “I’m gunna grab the doc, then we’ll talk.” You gave him a thumbs up, scowling at the cast on your arm.

“Sounds good to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you have your choice of dogs." You told Bucky as you flipped through your documents on your iPad, that had somehow managed to survive you landing on it in the accident. “Personally, I suggest the puppies. They tend to be slightly easier to train over a rescue dog. One way or another, though, this is a real commitment. You will be doing a lot of the training yourself with my help, obviously. But it takes a year or two of hard work and continued slightly easier work after that.” Bucky nodded as you quickly refreshed your memory on his file before pulling up the dogs you currently had available that were good for psych cases.

“How do you train them?” You glanced up at him as you spun your tablet around toward him on the bedside table.

“Practice.” You teased with a smile. “It’s a process. Lots of repetition. Now you applied for a dog to help with a psychological condition?” He nodded slowly as he scrolled through the pictures of the dogs.

“I get nightmares… panic some times.” You nodded as you pulled yourself up in the hospital bed you were confined to for 24 hours to monitor your concussion.

“And we are going to help you with that. Your PTSD dog will be specifically trained to help you before you have those moments of panic. The dog will also be trained to wake you up at the first signs of a nightmare before it gets bad. He or she will also comfort you through those times, giving hugs and kisses to bring you back to the present.” You reached out and gently touched his arm with your good hand and smiled when he finally looked up at you. “You’re gunna be alright, Sargent Barnes. I can’t make the promise that I will get you back to what you were all those years ago, but I can promise that we will find you a comfortable ‘normal’ for your life now.” He gave you a small smile and nodded with the slightest hint of tears in his eyes.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

“Don’t thank me just yet. We have a lot of work to do before we get to the thankin’ part.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There are so many of them.” Bucky said as you walked him through the kennels.

“That there are. And all of them will go to veterans in need of…” Your words stopped when you realized Bucky was no longer walking right behind you. You turned to see him stopped in front of a cage, looking at the dog inside. You walked back over and smiled as you quickly checked the clipboard on the kennel. “She’s one that you could potentially work with." You told him as he crouched down in front of the cage to look at the golden lab puppy who had come over to say hi. Bucky chuckled softly as he stuck his fingers through the cage to pet her; receiving kisses instead.

“What’s her name?” You shrugged as you pulled the lead from around your neck.

“We call her Lily but you can change that if you want.” He nodded as you popped the latch on the cage and pushed the door into the kennel. “Try call…” You didn’t even have a chance to finish your sentence before Lily trotted over and nudged Bucky’s metal hand in his glove. “And then there’s that.” You handed him the leash as he scratched her head.

“I take it that doesn’t always happen?” He asked as he clipped the lead to her collar. You shook your head as you stood up.

“Not usually. You know what we gotta do next.” He nodded as he stood up with the leash in his hand. You gestured him to keep following you to the ‘placement room’; the room used to figure out if a dogs personality would fit the veteran. Lily, still the puppy she was jumped playfully as Bucky lead her down the hall. She came from a long line of service dogs and you expected big things from her but you expected the playfulness from the untrained puppy.

You pushed open the door to the room that was painted to look like a small park with faux turf on the floor. It was covered in dog toys. You told Bucky to take Lily off the lead and let her get used to the room. Lily immediately ran over and grabbed a rope and carried the length back over to Bucky. She seemed to be enthralled with him as he crouched down in front of her. She tossed the rope across his knee and looked up at him pleadingly as her tail wagged hopefully. You stood back in the corner, letting Bucky take control.

“What, you wanna play?” He asked her as he took the end of the rope in his hand. She waited until he tugged it lightly before breaking out into a full blown game of tug of war. He laughed at her vicious little growls as she pulled with all her might. She stayed interested for a while until Bucky moved his left arm. The whirls of the motors and the slight clack of the plates caught her attention and the rope was instantly forgotten. Very cautiously, she took a few steps over toward the noise. She sniffed at his jacket as she waited to see if the noise would come back.

“Are you comfortable showing her?” You asked softly. He sort of nodded as he pulled off his glove. You didn’t let the metal hand phase you as he held his fingers out so Lily could smell them. She looked at them curiously, her ears perked in her curiosity as she touched her nose to them. You and Lily both watched as Bucky pulled his arm out of his jacket and sat down on the floor.

Lily jumped back a bit as he moved his arm a bit back and forth so it would make the noises again. You watched as she cocked her head to the side, watching it carefully. You could almost sense Bucky’s fear that he would scare her away because of it; something he had told you was a concern of his. As if she could sense it, Lily looked up at him in concern at his sudden mood shift. You smiled to yourself as she followed her natural instinct to sooth. She walked over, glancing only briefly at his arm before crawling into his lap. She let out a tiny whine as she laid her head on his metal arm gently as if she knew that was the source of his pain.

“She's your dog.” You said softly as Bucky scratched her head. He nodded as he tilted his head to look at her a little better with a giant smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is your home?” You asked as you followed him and his shadow, Lily through the living quarters of Stark Towers.

“For now until Lily is older.” You nodded as you followed him toward the living room. You had been working with both of them for almost four months and you had never seen a better match out of the ten vets you had worked with in your career. And Lily was picking up on commands faster than any dog you had seen as well.

“Alright, so let’s see what you two have been working on here.” You said as you sat down on the couch and pulled out your iPad to take notes. This was always your favorite part. It was one thing to teach a dog commands in a controlled environment. It was entirely different to see them follow the commands at home.

Bucky snapped to get Lily’s attention and you could almost see in her eyes the switch from pet to worker. Bucky tapped his forehead, suggesting a head pain and Lilly got up. She ran to what you assumed was his room and brought back his med bag containing anxiety meds one of the doctors wanted to try on him in extreme situations. Without even needing to be commanded, the second she dropped the strap in his hand she ran to get a bottle of water from the fridge.

You watched Bucky lead her through a whole string of tasks; from bringing Bucky a house phone from his room so he could call Steve for help in case of a break down, to hitting the speed dial for his cell phone and calling him, to going as far as retrieving him from his room; pushing him toward the living room with her head so he could assist where she couldn’t.

She wasn’t deterred when you played loud music or called her name in attempt to purposely distract her. She didn’t pay any mind to Natasha and Sam tossing a tennis ball back and forth right in front of her. The only thing she focused on was following the commands Bucky had given her. She had a few commands that she was still obviously working on and Tony got her attention for only a moment with a slice of bacon before Bucky got her back but from what you saw, she was making progress unlike anything you had seen.

“He always gets her with the bacon.” Bucky said as he let Lily out of worker mode by giving her a treat and scratching behind her ear. “And we are still working on the lights and the TV out here. This place is still even too technologically advanced for me but my room is a little simpler and she's got it down in there.” You nodded as you finished typing your notes in his file.

“Now how is she doing with public stimuli?” You asked as you crossed your legs and looked up at him. He nodded slowly as he signaled Lily to lay down.

“We’re getting better. The people that don’t pay attention to the ‘working dog do not pet’ vest still distract her sometimes.” You nodded as you switched to a different part of his file and took a note as he cleared his throat. “Would you… um… like to see her in action? Get a cup of coffee with me?” Your head shot up and a slight blush crept to your cheeks. You had a rule about dating your clients but there was something about Bucky that had you breaking all your rules.

It started out with telling him a few personal stories. Sure, you told your clients a little about you but you never scraped below the surface like you did with Bucky. You told him about your family and told him the real reason you got into training service dogs. Your little brother had severe autism and he was given a service dog to help calm his uncontrollable tantrums. You vowed that one day you would help make other peoples lives better the same way.

You found yourself spending more time than was necessary with Bucky and Lily, wanting to get to know the man you were helping out. It took almost two months before he started slowly opening up to you and you really thought Lily had something to do with it. Now he was a completely different man than the man you had sat with you at the hospital; still guarded but much less tense. You wanted to tell him no, wanted to tell him it was a bad idea to mix business with pleasure but that’s now what came out of your mouth.

“I… um…” You nodded your head as your smile and your blush grew on your face. “I’d actually really like that.” He smiled as stood up from the couch. You collected your things as Bucky told Lily to help him get her ready to go. She happily trotted in front of him to his room to get her harness and service dog vest on. Neither of you said much as you rode the elevator down and walked through the lobby of Stark Towers but as you headed out the main doors toward the coffee shop a couple blocks away, Bucky glanced over at you.

“Are you gunna get in trouble for this?” He asked and you huffed a laugh.

“Typically, yea but seeing as though I am one of the owners of my company…” You shrugged. “It’s a grey area.” He nodded as you both let Lily guide you through the people; monitoring for potential threats that could trigger an anxiety attack. You notice in the last week that Bucky had stopped wearing his glove out in public but he did keep it in his pocket. You were honestly proud of the progress he had been making as well.

“Can I confess something?” You asked as you came up on the coffee house. He glanced over at you and nodded as he paused outside the door. “You’re the first man I’ve met, in my business or otherwise that I would want to grab coffee with.” You watch a slight blush creep up under his short scruff of a beard and he smiled at you.

“Confession of my own? You're the first woman in my life that I actually look forward to seeing everyday.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was three months to the day after your first coffee date when you really saw Lily in action for the first time.

You and Bucky lasted a week after your date before you slept together for the first time. After Tony had walked in on the two of you mid action twice; swearing up and down it was a total accident, you decided to bring him to your place instead. He stayed over at your place once or twice a week, which turned into a few times a week and eventually, he practically moved in.

You were laying in bed on your stomach, using Bucky’s arm as a pillow when it suddenly jerked under your head. You gasped and lurched back onto your knees, trying to wrap your sleep fogged brain around what was happening.

“No!” Bucky snapped as he whipped his head to the side. You could hear the panic and fear in that one simple word… and so did Lily. She leapt onto the bed and let out two loud barks, ripping Bucky from his nightmare. You watched her keep her distance for a moment, making sure she was getting Bucky and not the Winter Soldier. Once she was sure, she walked forward, laid her head on his shoulder and put her paw across his chest in a hug. She whined to let him know she was there and kissed his jaw as he fought to catch his breath. You let her do her job as you kneeled at the end of your bed and watched. He pinched his eyes and rubbed his hand down her back until his breathing finally leveled out.

“You OK?” You asked softly after a minute as you moved your legs to sit on the bed. He uncovered his face and looked down at you, almost as if he was just realizing he woke you up.

“Shit, doll. I’m sorry…” You shook your head as Lily, got up and moved to the end of the bed until she was told what to do so you could be the comforter.

“You're fine, hun. I was just trying to figure out why my pillow moved.” He gave you a weak smile as you laid back down next to him with your head on his chest. “You wanna talk about it?” He shook his head as he pat the bed with his metal hand to call Lily to his other side. You nodded against his chest as he scratched the top of Lily’s head.

“She’s a good dog.” You said as you reached across his body and scratched behind her ear. He nodded as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to his side.

“And I can never thank you enough for her.” You smiled and kissed his muscular chest before shifting your head into a comfortable spot to fall back asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“See how he's pulling like that?” You asked your new client, Sam. He nodded as he wiggled his fingers under yours on the harness next to his wheelchair. He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye, the only way he could see you with his version of blindness. You gave him a small smile and nodded your head.

“A dog’s natural instinct is to go and play with other dogs. To explore and be a dog and do doggie things like bark at squirrels and sniff each others butts and shit.” Sam chuckled a bit at your training methods. “So when he does that, what do you do?” You felt him pull back on the harness under your hand. You nodded as the dog took a step back like he was supposed to. Scout was a well trained service dog that was pre trained for people with physical needs. Now it was just a matter of getting Sam and Scout to learn each other.

“So now that he’s calm and at attention…” Your words were cut off by the distinct sound of metal sliding across metal before a whined metallic crunch filled the air. You glanced over toward the noise and smiled at Bucky. Your smile almost instantly dropped at the look of pure fury in his eyes. “Hey Sam. Why don’t you run through some basic commands real fast. I’ll be right back.” He glanced over at you and nodded as you stood up and walked across the dog park.

“Lily down!” Bucky snapped as she tried to do her job to calm him down from an episode.

“Hey!" You shouted as you ran over to him shaking your head. “You don’t yell at her. She’s doing her job.” You said with a level tone once you got close to him so people didn’t overhear. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on but you can’t…”

“Keep the dog.” He snapped as he threw the leash at you. Your jaw dropped as he turned on his heel and stormed off.

“Bucky.” You called as you quickly grabbed the leash so Lily wouldn’t run off. He looked back long enough to tell her stay before running from the park without another word. You shook your head, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. “Lily, come.” You commanded as you opened the fence to let her in the park as you fought back tears. You let her off her lead and pulled out your phone to call Steve to let him know what was going on. Lily sat down at the gate, stared in the direction Bucky went, and whined; wanting her daddy to come back. With a heavy heart, and a promise from Steve that he would let you know the moment he found Bucky, you headed back over to Sam to finish your training session.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It took Steve six hours to find Bucky. You and Lily were both sitting on your couch, looking up at the door at every little noise you heard when the text that he was OK and at the Tower finally came through. Tears filled your eyes as you thanked the Avenger before tossing your phone on the table. You forced yourself off the couch and Lily followed after you to the bedroom. You both climbed into bed, and laid there wide awake the whole night.

It was three days of forcing yourself and Lily to eat and function before Bucky finally came home. You were sitting on the couch, watching the rain fall out your apartment window when the lock finally turned on your front door. Lily jumped onto the back of the couch with her tail wagging a mile a minute as you nervously chewed your thumb nail. The moment he stepped into the room, Lily lurched over the couch and ran as fast as she could. You wanted to stand up and go to him; wanted to wrap him in your arms and tell him it was all going to be OK but you couldn’t move.

“Hey Lil.” He said softly as he shut the door and crouched down to say hello. She instantly attacked his face with kisses; giving him all the love she had in her heart. You crossed your arms over your chest and chewed your bottom lip as he finally looked up at you. “Doll…” You shook your head as tears poured from your eyes. You got up with a shake of your head and headed into the bedroom; not ready to hear him out just yet. He let you have a minute as you crawled onto your bed and leaned back against the headboard with tears streaming down your cheeks. You ran your hands through your hair and looked up at him as he headed back to the bedroom with Lily right on his heels.

“I got jealous.” He said as he leaned against the door frame with his eyes trained on the ground. “You were holding his hand and I just…”

“I was working, James.” He nodded as he shoved his hands in his jacket pocket in shame.

“I know. Baby, I’m so sorry.” You looked away and watched the rain fall outside your bedroom window as you tried to collect your thoughts.

“You could have cost me my job; my company.” You said softly as you looked back over at him. He didn’t say a word as he sat down on the end of the bed. “Buck, you abandoned Lily. Do you understand what kinda position that puts me in? I usually have to report this.” He nodded as he pat the bed for Lily to come up.

“Doll, please.” With a heavy sigh, you ran your hands through your hair again and looked at Lily. She was pressed up against Bucky’s side, her tail thumping away on the bed. She was peacefully content just licking his hand; happy her daddy had finally come home. You shook your head and looked back up at him.

“Pull a stunt like that again where you just leave her and I have to report it. You get mad at me, you take it out on me, you understand. I’m a person, I understand. She doesn’t.” You pointed at Lily and he nodded. “And you need to understand, I work with mostly men. I’m not holding their hands because I want to. The man you saw me with is legally blind so me putting my hand on his is to let him know where I am since he can only see one thing at a time out of his peripheral vision.” He nodded again and carefully rested his hand on your shin. When you didn’t move your leg away, he shifted so he was right in front of you.

“I love you. The thought of losing you was just…” You nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arm around your knees. You put your hand reassuringly on his arm as his tear filled eyes searched yours.

“I love you too. You don’t have to worry about me going anywhere. I’m right where I wanna be.” He nodded and you reached up and wiped away his tears with your thumb. You moved your fingers to his chin and held his face so he would keep looking at you. “You leave me abandoned in a park somewhere again for any reason other than a Avengers related thing and I’ll kick your ass.” You watched his mouth twitch up into a small smile and he nodded.

“Yes ma’am.” You pulled him toward you and gave him a chaste kiss before pulling back.

“Glad we got that covered. Now, she needs to go out and then I’d like to go to bed early. Haven’t slept well in a few days.” With a small shake of his head, he pat your thigh.

“Me neither.” You smirked as he got up to take Lily out for a short run like he always did before dinner.

“Wonder who’s fault that is.” He looked back at you as he pulled a pair of sweatpants out of the closet.

“Mine.” You nodded and bobbed your eyebrow.

“Run fast. I’ll make us something to eat, baby.”

#Bucky x Reader #A Puppy For Bucky #A Puppy For Bucky One Shot

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