#tattoos as first step towards healing

[pollyna]

au in which Ice and Mav send flowers to Bradley every time he gets a promotion or a merit because they know he won't read cards, but Carole taught him most of the meaning of the flowers and, even if he isn't going to keep it, he'll know how proud of him they are.

(Bradley doesn't keep them. Not all of them because Nat is allergic to some, he's mostly still fucking angry with them, but he always puts one of each type between the pages of books he takes with him. He writes dates in pencil and the meaning of the flower.)

((The day it's finally home, twenty years almost too late, a suicide mission and almost parentless for real this time around, for two days straight nobody sees Bradley. When he comes back from wherever he went, there's a plastic wrap around his bicep and the outline of a tattoo under that. I just want to remember that you never left, even when I did he signs, sitting on the right side of his dad's hospital bed, I chose my favourite of all the ones you sent me. It takes hours, but Bradley talks and talks about flowers and his books that are full of them, back home, and that when Tom and Pete are going to feel better, he's going to show them everything. Mav almost ends up crying, and Ice's hug lasts so long that the hours of the visit are done and then some.

Falling asleep that night felt a little easier than it had in years.))

[dumblilb]

I Could Be Enough

Vi x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)

(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)

(Requested: yes)

(Words: 1,585)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。

You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn���t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.

But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.

But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.

“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.

“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.

“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.

So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.

But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.

But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.

So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.

“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.

“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.

“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.

“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.

“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.

She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.

“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.

You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.

“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.

“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.

“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.

“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.

She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.

Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.

“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.

“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.

With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.

“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.

“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.

“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.

“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.

[fluentmoviequoter]

nothing - Simon Riley

0.3k+ words of everything you give for Simon versus what you get in return. this is my first attempt writing for him so he might be very OOC (he's a softie but that was delusional and intentional)!

You do everything for Simon Riley and expect to get nothing in return. From next door or across an ocean, you heal him, care for him, and provide a good friend. Though you never anticipated it, what you get back in return is a quiet but respectful acquaintance. Then he leaves.

Ghost returns to Task Force 141 for another assignment. The only difference is a new tattoo: your initials hidden deep within a picture that means something to him and him alone. You made a difference in his life, even if he didn’t tell you.

One night, in the middle of the desert, those hidden letters catch his eye, and he realizes. Simon Riley - not Ghost – Simon knows he can love, all because one kind neighbor took the time to care. And somewhere along the way, between when you promised him that his past didn’t ruin him and when he walked away from you, Simon started loving again. Or maybe it was for the first time.

You’re almost to your door when a gloved hand wraps around your bicep. You turn quickly, startled despite the soft touch. Under the mask you’ve grown to look forward to seeing, Simon’s breath catches when you smile at him. He’s not big on physical touch, but his hand on your arm with only a glove to separate your skin encourages you.

“I missed you,” you admit softly.

“Missed you too,” Simon replies under his mask. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a problem, Si. I just-“

“Not for watchin' my place,” he interrupts. “For ev’rythin’ else.”

You smile and lean closer to him. A darker patch of pure black amidst his sleeve catches your attention.

“New tattoo?” you murmur.

Simon nods, and you run a finger over the new ink. He inhales at your touch but doesn’t shy away; it’s new, being touched without a fight, but Simon can see himself getting used to it.

“Maybe we can celebrate your homecoming tomorrow?” you offer. “I’m sure you could use a home-cooked meal after everything you’ve done.”

“I… ‘at’d be nice, love,” he answers.

“Tomorrow, then.” You step toward your door, and Simon’s hand falls to his side. “I’m really glad you’re home.”

“Me too.”

Your door closes, and Simon speaks silently under the mask. I had to come back home to you. To be loved.

A/N2: Thanks for reading this far!! Request Rules and Info if you'd like to indulge me by sending a req and helping me practice Simon's character.

[savagewildnerness]

Oh my word, Lestat has arrived! Oh my WORD! He is ACTUAL LESTAT! His hair! His face! His poignant expression (I’m sure he’s doing existential pondering!!!!) His titled head & cut-throat choker. His JACKET! His wee lo-rise pants! 😁 He is utter perfection! Thank you so much @toriangeli 🥹💗🥀🖤

I have given him his violin so he can get acquainted & begin practising!

You can still adopt glorious Claudia by @toriangeli here -

And @toriangeli is making a Gremlin 18th Century (I think?) Armand at the moment! He’ll be magnificent too!

“…I lifted the violin to my shoulder, braced it under my chin, and lifted the bow. I closed my eyes and I remembered music, Nicki's music, the way that his body had moved with it and his fingers came down with the pressure of hammers and he let the message travel to his fingers from his soul.

  I plunged into it, the music suddenly wailing upwards and rippling down again as my fingers danced. It was a song, all right, I could make a song. The tones were pure and rich as they echoed off the close walls with a resounding volume, creating the wailing beseeching voice that only the violin can make. I went madly on with it, rocking back and forth, forgetting Nicki, forgetting everything but the feel of my fingers stabbing at the soundboard and the realization that I was making this, this was coming out of me, and it plummeted and climbed and overflowed ever louder and louder as I bore down upon it with the frantic sawing of the bow.

  I was singing with it, I was humming and then singing loudly, and all the gold of the little room was a blur. And suddenly it seemed my own voice became louder, inexplicably louder, with a pure high note which I knew that I myself could not possibly sing. Yet it was there, this beautiful note, steady and unchanging and growing even louder until it was hurting my ears. I played harder, more frantically, and I heard my own gasps coming, and I knew suddenly that I was not the one making this strange high note!

  The blood was going to come out of my ears if the note did not stop. And I wasn't making the note! Without stopping the music, without giving in to the pain that was splitting my head, I looked forward and I saw Akasha had risen and her eyes were very wide and her mouth was a perfect O. The sound was coming from her, she was making it, and she was moving off the steps of the tabernacle towards me with her arms outstretched and the note pierced my eardrums as if it were a blade of steel.”

(Lestat & I might do an improvise together to this some day! Gotta let this tattoo heal a bit more first, so maybe not for a bit! 😉🖤🥀🎶🎻)

I have to leave the house now, so I can’t even stare at Lestat all afternoon 🥺, but I can smile in my heart knowing he’ll be here, awaiting my return! 🥰💚🖤🥀

PS I adore chartreuse!

[solangelotus]

seven devils (part one)

luke castellan x reader (gender neutral)

my mind (now)

summary: capture the flag brings injuries plus shared feelings and memories between you and luke. you once loved him and try your hardest to understand where you went wrong, all while trying to change his fate. (lovers to enemies series)

word count: 4.2k

warnings: starts right before tlt, apollo!reader, lots of angst, graphic fighting, injury + healing descriptions, fluffy memories, mentions of character deaths (thalia) - also mentions alison, the new character being introduced in s2 of the show and using her as a plot point worked out well

author's note: lovers to enemies fic for luke is just too perfect 🤌 also it’s great because it’s therapeutic for me after going through my own lovers to enemies!

masterlist | series masterlist

there’s a chill in the air that makes it feel like the dead of winter instead of a friday in late may. you suppose you can blame it on the fact that your perch in which you sat during each capture the flag game was high up in the treetops. it was a perfect spot; forty feet above zeus’s fist, and you could see zephyros creek, the boundary.

the flag was wedged into the top of the rock pile, but the game had started over an hour ago and no one was to be seen yet aside from your teammates. sweat beads on your forehead from the red-plumed helmet, but you know if you take it off it will only increase the chill in your bones.

a crunch echoes across the woods, and you spy your brothers, will solace and lee fletcher, hastily grabbing their bows from opposite sides of the woods. you knew michael yew was nearby in a treetop much like you, but you had yet to spot him. he was backup for little will; the eleven-year-old was proving to be an exceptional medic, but he had not inherited great aim like most of your siblings.

you spot a pair of blue plumes by the boundary, one much shorter than the other. annabeth is the shorter one, you can tell from the careful, calculated steps. the only other person who always searches for the flag that would be so careless with his steps is chris rodriguez. but if he was with annabeth, then where was luke?

“fuck,” you mutter and start scaling down the tree as quickly as you can, pulling your bow from over your shoulder. crouching on a branch halfway down the tree, you load a sonic bow and watch the muddy ground. it had rained the day before, which attributed to the chill in the air. you spot the footprints and let the arrow fly before you can think twice.

annabeth wasn’t wearing her cap which meant someone was, and you hear a groan over the loud blast of music that affected the empty ground. will begins to run towards the area, and once you make it to the forest floor, you sprint towards the pile of rocks. will’s small legs fail to carry him as fast as yours and he yells, “y/n, what’s happening?!”

“castellan is,” you yell back and ready another arrow, trying your best to abide by the ten-yard rule. you watch carefully; lee intercepts will and tells him to find michael to distract the others, and then makes his way to your side.

“where is he?” your brother asks and you shake your head. scanning the ground where the footsteps end, you pull another arrow out of your quiver. unfortunately, even after years you still knew his body like the back of your hand. 

you had been his doctor from the day he arrived until he was seventeen, but it would be superficial to say that’s why you knew his body so well. a tattoo lay on the inside of his left ankle from when you were fifteen and took fake ids to a sketchy parlor ten miles from camp. a crooked line scarred his upper thigh from one of the first times he gave you sword fighting lessons. just above the mole you used to adore on his right forearm lays a burn mark from the time you attempted to make cookies together.

you sigh and look at a tree behind the spot to confirm the right height you need before you let the arrow fly. worse comes to worse, it just flies over his head. but you knew better, and the arrow did exactly what you planned; it knocked the hat off of his head and into the mud beside him. “always good with a bow, but never with the sword.”

you just shake your head and reach for your dagger-lined belt. lee knocks an arrow but you put your hand out to him. “it’s a diversion, lee. he’s here to distract us so annabeth and chris can swoop in. i’ll fight him off and you stay on guard.”

“still thinking highly of yourself, i see,” luke grumbles. you were both popular at camp to say the least, both for your welcoming personalities but also for your ongoing rivalry. popular for the worst reasons, seeing as you two being anywhere near each other usually leads to chaos.

“i literally heard you and chris talking about it at the campfire last night.”

“it’s kind of old news at this point,” lee shrugs, and you hate that he’s always a voice of reason, “you two always seek each other out, even if it’s not explicitly planned.”

“lee,” you plead, and gesture to the flag. he nods and you turn back to face the son of hermes, taking small strides to him.

“did you hear who’s coming back this summer?” luke asks with a smirk. you start to think throwing one of your daggers at his face might be worth the loss of dessert privileges. 

“i’m not here to talk, castellan.”

“alison’s coming back,” he informs, a boyish grin spreads across his face but doesn’t reach his hungry eyes. you gulp and suddenly you feel like you are sixteen again; a joy in the silent pain he can see in you. he knows you see him more clearly than anyone else has.

you feel the dagger in your hand start to shake. love and hate feel too similar; your pulse speeds the longer he looks at you. you hate yourself for the way he can still get under your skin after so many years. “why would i care?” you try your best to sound stern, but the tone of your voice betrays you.

“why wouldn’t you?”

“she’s not my friend.”

“we’re all well aware,” he spits out, his eyes drifting to where lee stands in earshot of you both. “you spoke so highly of her just to abandon her at a time of need. that’s why no one trusts you now.”

“i never did anything to her! you know this! the two of you lied to me, and lied to everyone about me!” you yell at him and tighten your grip on your dagger. he draws his sword and you contemplate pulling your own, but he was right about one thing: you were never good with your sword. you wished you could go back in time and relish the moment you sliced his upper thigh instead of feeling bad for it back then.

“i can’t believe it’s been three years and you’re still so delusional,” he laughs, and you throw your first dagger at the hand that holds his sword. he was caught off guard, but he was relying on the old mindset you had where you hated hurting people. the fact of the matter was you did, and you knew that was why the dagger flew just a few inches from the target. “still can’t aim for shit either.”

“shut up,” you breathe out, and pull your sword from its scabbard at your waist. the bow and daggers had been a gift from your father, and truthfully, you had extremely good aim. you never would have received two gifts from him without such a talent. deep down you were still a medic, and people were so different from bloodthirsty monsters who gave you no choice.

your attempts to deflect luke’s swings are futile, he’s always been quicker, better, and more efficient with a sword. your bow was no match in close-up combat. as a child of apollo, you were born for the outskirts of battle, not for the frontline. but you hated looking like a fool.

like other demigods, your restlessness helped you in battle. sure it helped the children of the war deities more, you had seen the flip switch in clarisse, silena, and annabeth, especially. their godly power filling them has always been fascinating, even when you’re on the receiving end. no one strategized like annabeth, her intelligence with the field and for all weapons was scary. clarisse was passionate, stronger than most, and she was a force just like her father. silena, and all of her siblings, got teased for their bright pink armor and for the vanity that people assumed of them. but you had seen the rage that filled silena’s eyes when she was challenged, the rage that came with being the daughter of the love goddess who was also a war goddess. aphrodite and her children were discounted for their skills, but there’s a reason the team that included cabin 10 usually won. you were thankful the aphrodite cabin adorned the red plumes today.

there was no switch in your siblings. predictability was a blessing and a curse; prophetic thoughts and visions could be hard to interpret. overthinking during a battle affected many of the children of apollo; there was no changing fate.

no one – not even lee who had the best intuition out of anyone – could have predicted your next move as you successfully ducked under luke’s sword as he swung it at your helmeted head. he was the greatest swordsman in 300 years, but he was playing dirty right now. who were you to make that easier?

you realize the scream you hear is luke’s as a dagger in your non-dominant hand stabs into his thigh. when did you grab the blade? when did the flip you didn’t know existed inside you switch? 

his sword fell to the ground when he clasped his thigh and you dive to grab for it. you hear lee yell your name, but for once you have the upper hand on luke and you refuse to let it go. “no!”

luke’s voice echoes in your mind as you grab his sword, and he grabs the back of your armor in an attempt to pull you away. he uses his free hand to yank off your helmet, and he pushes you back to the ground. the breath is knocked from your lungs and you roll over onto your back to look at him. the impact had released his sword from your grip and your head swam as he held his sword out towards your face. fear swims within you. how far would he go?

the conch sounds breaks through the camp and you can hear cheering, but you know it’s from your team. will and michael successfully kept chris and annabeth distracted. luke is furious, you can tell from the way his nose crinkles and the furrow between his brows. he stabs his sword into the ground right beside you and you flinch. “we would have fucking won if it wasn’t for you!”

“it’s just a game, luke,” you groan out, your chest and lungs still burning. you try to sit up but you feel so delirious, you knew your head had hit the ground but you didn’t realize you had hit it so hard. where was the adrenaline you had just a few moments ago?

“if it’s just a game, then why would you stab me?!”

“you swung your sword at my head!” you yell, wincing at your volume. you hear footsteps and silently pray that it’s lee coming to intercept after the announcement of your team’s victory.

“because you messed me up, you fucked me over! how dare you?!” he yells at you, the tears begin to well up in your eyes. his narrow at you and you notice him clench his fists; this isn’t about the game.

“how dare i? how dare fucking you?!” you scream back until you feel a hand grab yours. you swear your vision briefly goes out as you quickly turn your head to face your brother. lee is at your side and shushing you as he pushes your hair from your face.

“luke, go,” lee demands, earning himself a scoff and eye roll from the older boy. you close your eyes, trying to steady your persistent, uneven breaths. stomping fills your ears as lee helps you to your feet until your siblings find you and help get you to the infirmary.

the cabins involved on the blue team sulk at the campfire and chris notes the bandage wrapped around luke’s thigh. annabeth is pissed; her hat is muddy and her team lost. “i’m sorry, beth.”

“it’s your fault we lost,” she reminds him, using a rag to get the mud off of the gift from her mother.

“you got distracted too!”

“no,” she narrows her eyes at him, “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to act like it’s my fault too when you have this ridiculous vendetta against y/n. you need to get over whatever happened years ago with them. you suck at games, you are weaker than you used to be, and your only motivation is to get back at them. what happened to glory? to pride?”

“you don’t understand.”

“then make me,” she grits her teeth, shoving the towel and hat into his lap, “and clean my hat. you should have picked it up the second it fell.”

“they cornered me!”

“the best swordsman in centuries supposedly got cornered and failed to defend himself and retrieve his little sister’s most prized possession? if y/n is as horrible at battling as you make everyone believe then you wouldn’t have gotten your butt kicked. get over yourself, luke.”

annabeth rushes away from the fire and towards the infirmary. when the bad blood began between you and luke, annabeth told you both she would never pick sides. she and you grew close after her first night at camp when she was mean and you still showed her nothing but kindness. you filled the older sibling void that she had lost with thalia.

when she enters the infirmary, she sees you laughing while laying in a bed with lee. she smiles at the joy in your face, at the crinkles by your eyes when you laugh. she loves the wide grin the children of apollo have, and how it strikes happiness in all those who experience it. without even looking at the door, you could sense her presence; something you and lee seemed to experience was being able to sense those nearby.  you wonder if it’s a gift from your father to be able to sense someone before they can approach you. maybe it’s a gift to prevent the healer from injury in a battle.

annabeth slides into the chair at your bedside and she accepts the hand you stick out for her, “how are you?”

“i’m fine now, much better after some ambrosia and a snack.”

“what happened?”

“nothing, it’s alright.” a sinking feeling fills annabeth’s stomach with your reassurance and forced smile. something is wrong. luke was quick to blame you, to say you tricked him and hurt him without a second glance, but you were the one in the infirmary. he had a singular bandage on his thigh. his anger was getting worse, he wasn’t pulling punches with anyone as he used to. “annabeth, what’s wrong?”

“i’m worried,” her voice trembles and you practically push lee out of bed. he accepts the hint and goes to the office to finish the paperwork that comes each friday night after capture the flag. you pull annabeth’s hand and she crawls into the creaky infirmary bed. “there’s something wrong.”

you wrap your arms around the small girl and press your lips to her hairline. annabeth is strong, both physically and emotionally, but she always holds it in. she guards herself heavily, but you have always been someone she needs not to protect herself against. “i…i know.”

“does lee know his fate?” annabeth questions. she continues to identify the distance in her brother, how he sneaks away alone at night. she used to believe it was to be with someone, but he was too good to cheat on alison; they had been together for three years. annabeth knows lee is the closest camp has to a prophet outside of the oracle.

“no,” you answer truthfully. you hope your expression stays balanced, that she will not see what you omit. that instead of lee, it’s you who sees his fate.

back at the campfire, luke eyes get lost in the flames. his hands move the towel absentmindedly against the gift from athena, and he silently prays to kronos to wish that his weakness can disappear. the warm flicker of light reminds him of sunlight, of the light that everyone sees in you. the light is his weakness, the hurt in your eyes fills him with guilt. but you are too good.

he has always known you were too good. the trust you have in the divine fills him with disgust. he hates that you convinced him to get that stupid wing tattooed on his ankle, and he hates that he convinced you to get a sun on your own. his naivete as a child was blinding. 

you fought tooth and nail to convince him of being loved, of being good, and he accepted it. he believed it too. the lord of time could never change his fate, only hasten it with the vow he has taken. 

he heard everything you told him, but maybe if he had truly listened then he could be good like you. maybe he could have ended up as kind and loving as the first night you met.

you had snuck away from the campfire when you could sense some commotion. team blue had won capture the flag, but your camp hoodie had gotten dingy – you wanted nothing more than to shower. the big house was just a short walk from the campfire, and inside were extra toiletries that you were going to need.

a commotion at the top of half-blood hill steered your attention away from the prospect of showering. you could see a few shadows in the moonlight and began sprinting towards the hill, pulling your sword from its sheath in the process. you would be the first to admit you were shit with a sword, but your bow and arrows were back in your cabin so you had to make due.

luke was leading a limping annabeth over the border when you arrived on the hill, and he couldn’t focus on anything other than your face. he didn’t care about the beaten-up sweater or the jeans caked in mud; he didn’t even care to draw his weapon when you pointed your sword at him. he saw nothing but you, your essence, and the concern firm in your eyes. there was no malice in the face threatening him with a sword; he knew you could never hurt them.

the moonlight created a soft glow around your face, bouncing off the snowflakes that began littering your hair. he saw your mouth move, but everything was quiet, everything was still. he was sure you were a child of aphrodite; no one could look so perfect and disheveled. his fourteen-year-old self was sure he would never meet anyone so beautiful ever again. “hello?”

“hi,” he breathed out as you walked closer to him. your voice was firm, but the weapon in your hand was beginning to shake. the fearlessness you tried to present yourself with was fading fast, and he was trying hard not to break down at the thought of thalia and grover not being beside him.

“are you okay?”

“did you seriously just ask that?” the small girl beside him asked as tears streamed down her face. your heart hurt for her, she couldn’t have been any older than eight you guessed. you put your sword back in its sheath while she tried her best to keep a stern expression. her stare was harsh but you could tell she was deflecting from something.

“s-sorry. i, uh, mean are you hurt? we have an infirmary.”

“no.”

“yes,” luke corrected, and you gestured toward the building beside the big house. bleating sounds fill the air, and before you can comprehend it, a young satyr runs quickly through the barrier and nearly topples into you. he’s hyperventilating and his face is covered in tears and grime.

“grover?!”

“y/n!” he exclaimed and wrapped you in a hug. he’s still deeply upset and in shock, it doesn’t take a genius to see it.

“grover, are-” you’re cut off with a deafening scream. it wasn’t until later on that you realized it had been your own. lightning struck the ground right at the barrier, and a tree slowly erupted into form and took shape. fear filled your body. you had never been at the scene of new arrivals, let alone at such an event. capture the flag was the extent of the danger you faced – this was beyond it. grover wrapped his arms around you, and you looked at him. 

the fear that filled your body was dissipating. it was useless in a time when two demigods were in need right beside you – sobs wracked both of their bodies as they held each other. the girl’s ankle was visibly swollen, and the boy had many gashes all over his body. you and lee had been training for this; this was your moment to put your parentage to use. “grover, if you’re not hurt then go find chiron. tell him what’s happened while i get these two to the infirmary.”

grover trots off in the direction of the campfire, and the boy picks the girl up as you hastily walk toward the infirmary. it was unlocked, thankfully, but you knew your sister, val, was at the campfire. until she, the main healer, came back you were on your own. you introduced yourself, and got both of them onto a bed together.

“i’m luke. luke castellan,” he told you as you inspected the small girl’s ankle. purple bruises began to litter her deep skin and she winced as you pressed lightly on the skin. you grabbed the bandage roll and started to wrap and secure it tightly on her ankle to stabilize it. she held her hand out and you placed a square of ambrosia in it. “this is annabeth chase.”

“you’re brave, annabeth. your ankle is definitely broken but it’ll heal too fast for a cast. the first few days at camp are overwhelming as it is, so i imagine you are going to be forced to take it easy anyway with this injury,” you explained to her, but she continued to glare at you.

luke was a much easier patient. he was silent, only whispering a response to your questioning here and there. you figured it was easier to stay silent while being stitched up anyway, so you gave him some slack for it. you finished stitching a deeper cut on his arm, and moved to a gash on his leg. it was so infected you nearly gagged, so you grabbed a canteen of nectar and began to flush the wound. he sighed in relief and looked down at you. “how old are you?”

“thirteen,” you answered and grabbed a new needle and more surgical thread, “how old are the both of you?”

“she’s seven, and i’m fourteen,” he grimaced as you embedded the needle into his skin. you assumed he was your age, but you were glad your guess was right for the both of them. “how do you know what to do?”

“my dad is apollo.”

“oh, mine is hermes.”

“who’s yours, annabeth?”

“thalia’s was zeus,” she said instead, and your brows furrowed at the both of them.

“who’s thalia?”

“the tree that made you scream,” annabeth huffed and rolled her eyes.

“daughter of athena?”

“how did you know?” she asked and finally her facade fell. she looked startled and like she was ready to start fighting again.

“my best friend is a daughter of athena, so your sister. she’s a lot like you. her name is alison,” she smiled at you. chiron walked in through the infirmary doors with val, lee, and grover hot on his hooves. val quickly started to inspect your work and gave you a high five once she saw how well you had done.

luke watched the smile on your face grow and he felt his heart constrict. he should have known from the second he saw you that you were the child of apollo; it explained the glow and warmth you gave off upon seeing you. he was grateful it was you who stumbled upon them; you were a great distraction from the grief that began to fill him.

“do you still love him?” you think about her words. about the little luke, you knew when you were just thirteen and fourteen, about the luke you met that first night. 

annabeth stares at your vacant, slack face with hooded eyes, the tears slowly streaming as she tries to choke back the anxieties that fill her. she’s wisdom’s daughter, yet she feels like she has no idea how to get the answer to this problem. returning your stare to her, you release yourself of the reverie you found yourself in. “i believe it’s my fate.”

↬ next

[kechiwrites]

not quite heart-shaped

simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader

synopsis: you and simon both have the 14th off, and by god you were going to make the most of it. pt. 4/?

wc: 2.3k

cw: afab + fem!reader, fluff, banter, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, very light breeding kink, femme pet name (princess), no use of y/n ever.

an: the return of medic reader, special thanks to @weebitofaslag who with a single comment reignited my love for their dynamic. babes all my knowledge of the military comes from romance novels, mw2 campaign and my fleeting contact with the canadian armed forces. so like if i get something wrong…don’t tell me. happy valentines day!

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

"Three." The tense quiet of the bedroom is disrupted by your offer. 

Ghost stands in front of you, and despite his crossed arms his posture is deceptively casual.

He scoffs at your pitch. The standoff is common for the two of you. Basically foreplay at this point. Pretending to be irritated and annoyed with each other until you're basically begging to rip each other's clothes off.

"No way." He grunts, but doesn't provide a number of his own.

You can't keep the disbelief out of your tone.

"Less than three, Simon? You're losing your touch!"

That does get a rise out of him and he stops leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"More than three. Anything less than five is a waste of both of our days off. But you knew that, didn't you, princess?"

"I don't know if I have five in me to give, honestly." You choke out, already tugging off the sweater you wore. 

"If I'm eating you out, I'm spending the day down there." He huffs. 

You're breathless when you finally respond, your cool and collected demeanour crumbling in the wake of his assertion.

"Yeah okay, that's fine, but wanting to fuck me after? I may not even be conscious." When he doesn’t respond, you gasp dramatically, like a soap opera lead discovering a villain’s plot. "Maybe that's what you want! Simon! Who knew you were so depraved?" It’s easy to be silly with him lately, even more so when you’re both free of the oppressive air of the base you’re both stationed at.

"Get on the bed or get out of my house." His shirt’s already off, and it’s oh so hard to stay on the task of mocking him when the cut muscle and little bit of fat on his torso shine under the room’s low light. With the mask still on, and the dark fabric of his pants obscuring his bottom half, he makes quite the sight. The pale, wide expanse of his chest, only broken up by tattoos and healed, pink scars and sandy, blond chest hair makes your mouth water. He steps towards you, hooking the thumb under the mask and pulling it up. It feels as though the cloth is moving in slow motion, your heart beating loud and erratic with anticipation. When he stops so it rests on his nose, you exhale, not quite disappointed, but you sure as hell aren’t relieved. 

“Sex in a bed?” You question facetiously, willing your brain to revert back to being a little shit. You know he can’t stand when you're being a brat, it reminds him of just how easily he’d lost control, just how messily he’d fucked you the first time, but around Simon you just can't seem to stop yourself, “You're spoiling me.” You lay back on the bed as ordered, contorting your arms to shimmy out of your bra, then your bottoms, tugging your underwear along with them. Not a thong this time, a fact that seems to disappoint Simon when he notices your regular boyshort panties entangled in your discarded sweatpants. 

“Yeah, don't get used to it, I'm just tired of the smell of antiseptic.” He mutters, kicking your discarded clothes off to the side.

You snort derisively, spreading your legs so he can lay between them, allowing for him to brush the petal soft skin of his lips against your hip, your thigh, just above your knee. “Ladies and gentlemen, the last true romantic.” You mumble, patting the top of his head, lamenting your inability to card your fingers through his fine blonde hair. 

Your entire body jolts when his tongue comes in contact with your clit, a full body shiver alerting Ghost to just how badly you'd needed this. He hasn't shaved and his stubble scrapes the soft skin of your inner thighs, forcing a jolt up your spine, shuddering breaths escaping your lungs as his mouth gets better acquainted with the lips of your cunt. 

He drags his tongue over you in your entirety, taking special interest in the skin just below your entrance, he stays there, skimming, sucking, licking, until you're worried he'll manage to give you a hickey there, on your fucking taint. He has you dripping with his spit and your own slick, and the sound when he returns to your clit is obscene. He brings both hands up towards your abdomen, but neither continues the course to where you want them, on top of your chest, plucking at your nipples, or even around your throat, obstructing your airway. Instead, Simon's left hand pushes down on your abdomen, and his right gently shifts the hood of your clit up so he can abuse it better. 

All the soldiers in all the world and you had to hook up with the one who eats pussy like that?

"Fuck." You wince, and you twitch away from him as best you can, which only makes him suck harder, like he’s giving you ‘two for flinching’. You groan loud and unashamed, assured by the privacy afforded by not fucking on base for once. Your toes curl and relax over and over, the periodic tremble of your hips against his mouth has him holding you down as best he can, determined to pull more sounds from your wide open mouth. Your whole body tenses and you let out a litany of curses only disrupted by stutters of his name, all while you clench around nothing. He’s mumbling into you as you come, but whatever he’s saying ultimately doesn’t fucking matter when the vibrations of his voice make you want to cry or scream or kick Simon in his stupid masked face.

There's barely any hangtime between your orgasm shuttering through you and Simon circling his arms around your thighs before he tongue fucks you mercilessly, letting the tip of the muscle broach your entrance while he drags the edge of his teeth over the still buzzing flesh of your labia. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you onto his face, until you get with the program and begin rolling your hips, pressing your clit against the bridge and tip of his nose, allowing his tongue to push deeper within you. 

Your body is already dripping its satisfaction all over his chin, and this time with breath barely in your lungs it takes longer for him to get you into a place of desperation again. But by God, does Simon Riley get you there. This time he takes a break from the constant contact between your cunt and his tongue to slip one of his thumbs into your entrance, fucking you with slow and deliberate strokes, like a promise of what he’ll do to you later when he finally fucks you. Long, greedy swipes of his tongue jar your brain like a hit to the head. You try to struggle away, levering up with your arms before he tugs you down again like a fucking ragdoll, like you trying not to lose your fucking mind is a slight inconvenience to him. He lays wet, panting, open mouth kisses over the pulsing heat of your cunt, and when you you raise your head to - fuck you don’t know - curse his entire bloodline, you can see he’s helplessly grinding his hips into the mattress, seeking some sort of friction while he tongues at your folds, while you soak him to the knuckle. It’s hot, hotter than it has any right to be and you flop back down, turning your head into his pillow to muffle your moans. Old habits and all that. Unfortunately, the pillow is steeped in Simon’s scent, and your eyelids drift closed when you inhale deeply. Your breath stalls and you ride out yet another climax on his tongue, this time very grateful for the way he fingers you through it, even if his thumb isn’t nearly big enough. The bed beneath you bears the brunt of your orgasm this time, damp sheets attesting to your fervent enjoyment. 

“What a mess you’ve made.” He speaks, once you stop huffing, voice disturbingly even, like he didn’t just factory reset your body. Which is…incredibly irritating.

“You know technically as a doctor I outrank you.” You snip, nose in the air. 

“So?” He lifts his head, but his eyes are still locked between your legs, not quite able to decide if he wants to move from where he is so clearly comfortable.

“So…” you mock him, squeezing your thighs around his neck, until his stare is redirected to your face. “you should be fucking nice to me, asshole.” He digs his thumbs into the back of your knees, until you release him. Slowly, he drags himself up, over your body until he can lay on his back next to you. 

“You know, I really should have finished inside you that first time. Knocked you up and had you taken off base.” And wouldn’t that have been a fun conversation for you to have with your CO. ‘I’m so sorry ma’am, he wears a mask and has big hands and knows my kinks. I had no choice, ma’am.’

“Stop talking or I’m gonna sit on your dick.” You whisper, shutting your eyes against the harsh beam of the light overhead. Your heart rate is finally starting to settle, and you’re grateful for the moment of reprieve, the few moments he gives for you to stitch your mind back together, to regain purposeful use of the human language. 

Shoulder to shoulder in his bed, and no longer occupied with singing Simon’s praises, your mind begins to harmlessly wander, unhelpfully cataloguing that you aren’t even halfway through what he’s planned for you. You also start to filter through your responsibilities due in the coming days. It’s automatic at this point, a system you developed during school, when papers and projects and your social life all constantly contradicted each other. You’d come, at the hands of yourself or someone else, and your orgasm cleared brain began building a calendar. Nothing today, of course, you’d cleared your schedule and no one had questioned why. Most people wouldn’t question anyone taking off Valentines.

The “holiday” never really stuck out to you in the past, for one reason or another. Work, med school, family stuff, hell sometimes you just didn’t fucking feel like it. But this year, today, you can’t help yourself. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Simon.” You puff, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, letting your brain make patterns out of the popcorn ceiling.

“Ah,” he vocalizes, voice gruff. “Right.” he shifts in his bed, and you figure you’ve got about 30 seconds before he gives you the dusty combat boot. Your face burns with embarrassment, why the fuck did you say that? When did he ever give you even the slightest inclination he gave a shit about some overblown, capitalistic, aggrandized-

“Here.” A bag of jellybeans is unceremoniously plopped onto your bare chest, right between your tits. 

“Where were you hiding these?” You gawp, struggling to string together a sentence as you examine the bag of colourful candies. It has a bow on it. You finger the pre-tied ribbon, stuck on with an adhesive pad.

“Under the bed.” He grunts, rubbing at his eyes and the bridge of his nose, like he’s fending off a headache, but you think he may just be embarrassed, if the pink tips of his ears are anything to go by. 

“This is sweet.” You choke out, and you have to sink your teeth into your already swollen lower lip to stop from giggling hysterically. “Thank you, Simon.”

“Mng.” He makes the noise in his throat, forgoing the English language for the easy comfort of grunts, watching you tear the bag open and chew on a handful of the brightly coloured beans. All at once, like some kind of animal. The flavours don’t quite go together, strawberry and buttered popcorn and root beer. Others you can’t even begin to pin down. But you're too frazzled to eat them how you usually would, your favourites first, then making combinations with whatever’s left, guided by the suggestions on the back of the bag. And ultimately, it’s not altogether too unpleasant. It works, in a fucked up, saccharine sweet kind of way. Kind of like you and-

“Alright, put it away.” He rasps, turning over to cover you with his weight once more, sliding down to get started on orgasm three. 

He plucks the bag out of your hands and drops it on the nightstand near you, devoid of any knick knacks or photographs, just a beat up 70s style alarm clock that acts as a pedestal for your candy.

“My beans!” You shout, trying in vain to secure the confection for further enjoyment. You give up your fruitless endeavour when Simon sinks his teeth into the flesh of your breast on his way back down to your pussy. 

“I didn’t get you anything.” You moan, pressing the cool palms of your hands to your overheated face, soothing the mix of embarrassment and giddiness stirring in your mind.

“I’ll live.” He grouses, bending your knees, holding your thighs up and together with both palms at the back of your knees. You can’t see his face. Have never seen the whole thing, but you’d bet all the jellybeans in the fucking world, that Simon Riley’s cheeks are pink.

the beans were soap’s idea for sure. poor guy’s definitely heard them fucking more than once. support city girls, reblog what u like. happy valentines.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

RoR x Replacement Fighter Part 2

When the reader has healed, the gods/humans and the reader decide to get to know each other better. This can take place underneath a gazebo in the Valhalla Gardens, at a festival, in a gaming room, etc. As the reader was now wearing an all-black outfit that included a short-sleeve T shirt, pants, a chain necklace, and a stylish belt, their tattoos became pretty noticeable. Some of them blushed by the way the reader looked now. Others kept fidgeting because of it.

The reader's appearance :

They were amazed to find out that the reader was pretty young (around 20) and completed their education quite early. The reader also have the ability to speak in multiple languages (English, Burmese, Japanese, Korean, Thai, Laotian, etc.), which the gods/humans noticed as the reader was talking on their phone with their friends. Probably cussing out loud too.

The reader then invites the god/human to their apartment. The entire apartment was freezing cold and had dark neon green LED lights that were all stuck neatly on the walls. There were also traditional Burmese and Thai statues that were set up as decorations. Some of them noted the masks and puppets in a glass wardrobe near the furniture. There was also a large fish tank or aquarium in their apartment filled with Koi and Arapaima fish, which a few gods and humans went straight to observe.

The details of the apartment :

Some gods/humans did get a light hearted smack on the back of their head though. Either for trying to go inside the tank, for fooling around with the masks & puppets, for accusing the reader of being affiliated with the mafia, or because someone tried to smash up the serpent sculptures due to getting flashbacks from their previous battles. (Thor 💀)

Gods: Odin, Thor, Anubis, Susanoo, Loki, Apollo and Poseidon

Humans: Sasaki, Lubu, Tesla and Leonidas

-Today was the day that (Love) and several others were going to your place for the first time, after he and other fighters in Ragnarok had been begging to get to know you more, curious about you- they wanted to know as much as possible.

-Your house was in a quiet part of Valhalla and surprisingly looked relatively normal, nothing really out of the ordinary, at least on the outside of your house.

-When you answered the door, you looked a little disheveled, as if you had only just gotten up, your hair sticking up in random angles, baggy sweatpants, and a tight black tee-shirt on top, showing off the tattoos on your arms, which seemed a bit more vibrant today.

-Several, including (Love) flushed, you looked so alluring as you yawned, “Oh- was that today?” your sleepy voice was so alluring as you opened the door, welcoming them all in, as none of them made any mention that it was past noon and you had only just gotten up.

-As soon as they stepped inside, their jaws all dropped open, seeing that the vibe of your house didn’t fit the vibe of the outside of your house.

-It was dark, with bright neon lights and light strips everywhere, giving it a strange but ethereal vibe as Loki and Anubis gasped, running over to your massive fish tank that took up a whole wall in your living room, filled with koi fish and arowana fish, complete with more lights shining from the bottom.

-You scratched the back of your head, going towards your kitchen to start the coffee maker as many of the others were exploring the rest of your home, seeing the multitude of weapons, puppets, statues, and masks, all with labels next to them, hailing from Thailand and Burma.

-Apollo was fine, but others were quickly shivering as the sun god came over to you as you leaned against your kitchen counter, “Do you always keep your apartment so cold?”

-You looked over at him, an eyebrow lifting, “It’s cold in here?” several heads snapped over to you, how could you not tell that it was freezing in your own apartment?! You didn’t seem bothered, so you were obviously used to it.

-Poseidon and Nikola were looking at several diplomas on another wall, showing them the various institutes that you had gone to when you visited earth, showing them both, as well as the others, when Nikola came over to gush at you, that you were extremely smart.

-Nikola was like a hyperactive dog, not that you minded, as he asked what kind of languages that you spoke, as he had seen diplomas from all around the world!

-You counted on your finger, like you didn’t know exactly how many yourself, “English, Burmese…uhh Japanese and Korean- what else, oh Laotian, Thai, French… I think there’s more but…” you trailed off, not able to bring the names to mind at the moment but they were stunned to see you so well rounded!

-You were like a warrior scholar- they all knew you were a fierce warrior, and Lu Bu and Thor couldn’t help but feel a little antsy, seeing the variety of weapons you had in your place- you should know how to use all of these right? They wanted to fight you!!

-With the dark lighting, strange decorations and overall intimidating feel your place had, a few had to wonder if you were actually a dangerous person, as Loki popped up in front of you, “Are you part of the mafia?!”

-Instantly you were pinching his cheek, a slight scowl on your face as you sipped your coffee as he was begging you for mercy, much to the amusement of others.

-You didn’t mind them taking the masks off the wall, or picking up the weapons, as long as they didn’t break anything- you didn’t feel like you were in the mood for breaking any of them, and as long as they put things back, you didn’t mind them exploring your place.

-Had no idea you were such a well-rounded individual, you had it all, brains, strength, and good looks- you were the perfect package!! With each new thing that he discovered, he wanted to know more and more about you, as well as get closer to you- wanting you all to himself. However, he never did get an answer from you- are you part of the mafia?! He was determined to find out, but he didn’t want to risk you pinching his cheeks.

            -Apollo, Loki, and Anubis

-His eyes were full of delight, a smile on his lips as he turned towards you, fire burning within his very soul as you finished your coffee, putting the mug down, “Fight me Y/N!!” you blinked, turning back to him, a confused look on your face, “Why?” he faltered only for a moment, “Because that’s the best way for us to get to know each other!” You motioned over your shoulder with a thumb, “I don’t feel like it- want to play a board game instead?” Why were you so difficult sometimes?!

            -Thor, Susanoo, Lu Bu, and Leonidas

-Couldn’t help but admire your home, it was so unique, he found something new each time he looked, but unlike others who were taking things off the wall, he minded himself, just looking with his eyes. As he wandered, he kept finding more and more oddball things and he couldn’t help himself going over to you, “Why is your house filled with so many odd things?” you looked confused, as you didn’t see anything wrong with the way your house was decorated, “Odd? There’s nothing odd here- except you guys.” (Love’s) eyelid twitched lightly, you were such a thickheaded ding dong sometimes, but that was part of what made you cute.

-Odin, Poseidon, Kojiro, Nikola

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Kind Of Love You Only Find Once In A Lifetime - Steve Rogers x Reader (Prologue)

A/N: This whole fic is dedicated to the wonderful @anika-ann because she was the one who reblogged the wartime footage gifs that inspired all this and I promised I'd write it 😉

Summary: Tony finds some old war footage of Steve which features someone very special to him

Word Count: 892

Warnings: Angst! Flashbacks!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist

The Kind Of Love You Only Find Once In A Lifetime

Steve took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut as he waited for the most recent flashback to leave his mind, but it just seemed permanently seared in his brain, tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. Clenching his fists he threw his first punch at the bag, the satisfying crack making his eyes snap open as he continued to throw punches. Praying that with every punch the pain would just stop.

Steve had been living in this new modern world for just under a year now, his new friends had tried to help him adjust some more than others, but settled was not the word he would use. Frankly, he didn’t think he’d ever feel settled in this new life. How could he when everything and everyone he had was back in the forties?

With his last punch, he spotted a small droplet of blood running down the leather of the bag. He paused, brows furrowing as he watched the droplet work down the bag before dropping onto the floor. Looking down at his fists he saw the wrapping around his knuckles was soaked with blood.

He needed to stop, he knew that. He could practically hear that voice in his head, the one that he simultaneously wished would stop and never go away, telling him to stop. He gave into that voice, knowing it was right, it was always right. He stepped away from the bag and began to unwrap his hands, seeing just how damaged his knuckles were. They would heal up perfectly fine and quickly on their own but that voice told him to go clean them properly so he did.

As he made his way back to his room he heard the rest of the team talking in the cinema room, as well as a voice that did not belong to this time period. Curiosity got the better of him, as he walked in he instantly recognised the footage on the screen. It was all the old footage from his time in the war.

“Where- where did you get this?” he asks, clearing his throat when he feels it begin to break.

“Dad’s old archives, it proved useful in the past,” Tony says tapping his arc reactor “So I thought I’d go through everything else see if there was anything important” he explains “found all these old reels, some said unusable on them but I asked JARVIS to compile it all together and Ta-Da” he says gesturing to the large screen.

Steve just hummed with a small nod of his head as he stared up at the screen. His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind was telling him to leave, save himself the heartbreak. But his heart kept his feet firmly planted where he stood because only it knew the connection Steve had to this footage.

The first reel with the narration ended and there were a couple of seconds of a black screen before it came back to life with more footage of him. However this time almost every clip had him looking towards the camera. To begin with, it was only for a split second but over time the gazes became longer and a smile would form on his face.

“No wonder they couldn’t use this footage, Cap keeps looking into the camera! You’re breaking the number one rule!” Nat laughs shaking her head at him.

“I wasn’t” Steve mutters.

“Yeah you are look at you” Nat argues pointing up at the screen.

“I wasn’t looking at the camera” Steve states quietly, unable to say it any louder with the lump in his throat, looking down at the floor so they wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

When the screen went black again Steve cleared his throat and went to leave, he was by the door but he froze when he heard Clint say “Who’s the girl?”

Steve didn’t even need to look at the screen to know exactly what girl it was and it was not just some girl. It was the owner of the voice in his head that he couldn't help but listen to. His body operated on autopilot as he walked back into the room and looked back up at the screen.

His breath caught and the lump in his throat doubled in size. There was no sound but Steve could hear the laughter so clearly, there was no way Steve would ever forget that laugh. He had no clue this footage even existed, his heart ached as watched as the girl on the screen laughed and tried to push the camera away.

Eventually, the screen went black and remained that way but Steve could not take his eyes off the screen praying that it would restart and he could see it all over again.

“Who was that Steve?” Nat asked her voice softer than before.

“It… it uh was someone very special to me” Steve manages to say, he quickly sniffles before glancing back at Tony “Can um… is there a way I could have a copy?” he asks.

Tony shifted in his seat “Sure, JARVIS can you get on that?”

“Already did Sir” The AI responded.

“Thank you,” Steve said quietly before quickly turning to make his way back to his room so he could go rewatch the footage of you over and over again.

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to be kept up to date!

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | eight

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, injuries, description of injuries, self harm, bad familiar relationships, PTSD

Nimue and Azriel had bid farewell to everyone else before heading towards the Spring Court.

They had left early in the morning, winnowing themselves to the forest right in front of Tamlin's mansion. There, Nimue had magically bypassed any possible guards that the High Lord or his cousins had placed in the territory, and they waited among the trees, among the bushes.

Beside her, Azriel had shed the calm demeanor the princess had known the night before. Now, with all senses alert, he was the master spy of the Night Court. Nimue, hidden from view with a simple spell, couldn't help but watch as the Shadowsinger blended into the shadows of the trees, sometimes glimpsing only his eyes.

"What's the plan?" Azriel asked. They were waiting, not knowing for what.

"I'll go in, convince them you were torturing me, play dead, and when they least expect it, I'll kill my cousins and Jurian. But first, I'll find out their plans; I'm good at listening behind walls."

Azriel frowned.

He wanted to trust her, to put all his blind faith in her plan. In his right hand, he felt the promise tattoo they made last night pulsing.

"Okay. Keep me informed; every night I'll visit you to hear what you've discovered. Even if you don't see me, rest assured I'll always be there covering your back," Azriel raised a hand from among the shadows and touched Nimue, his hand on the female's muscular shoulder. He felt a shiver run down his spine and immense heat under the glove, the princess's body radiating a warmth so familiar that it made Azriel's bones melt.

Nimue looked at him and with a quick movement, pulled him towards her, a superhuman force making Azriel almost lose his balance. She held onto him, an embrace meant to crush bones that Azriel gladly reciprocated.

They stayed like that for a couple of seconds or a couple of minutes, they weren't sure, sheltered in each other's warmth, in the calmness of the bond between them.

"Thank you for trusting me, Azriel."

Get her out of here. She's in danger, she's scared. We can't let her go with those people.

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the warnings of his own shadows, and took a step back, letting go of the female. He stayed there, hidden among the foliage shadows, and under his watchful gaze, Nimue raised a hand on which appeared a knife made of light.

What was she going to...?

Nimue grasped the handle of the knife made of her own magic, and began with her arms: from her wrists to her elbows, she made small but deep cuts from which blood soon began to flow, dripping onto the forest floor.

When the smell of her blood reached his palate, Azriel felt like he was going to vomit. All his senses focused solely on that, on the dripping blood, on how the female was cutting her own flesh. Something inside him, deep within his being, stirred.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" before he was even aware, he had already taken a step forward, grabbing Nimue's hands and pulling them apart, his gloves staining with the red fluid.

"They have to believe that you've hurt me, that you've tortured me and I've escaped. I'll say you drugged me with faebane and that in one of your oversights I managed to flee."

Nimue freed herself from Azriel's grasp, and continued with the task, this time she stabbed herself in her own thigh, staining her clothes with her own blood.

She felt her body starting to heal on its own, so with her magic she kept the wounds open and minimized the pain as much as possible to remain conscious even after losing so much blood. When she removed the knife from her thigh, she only felt a slight tingling.

Azriel felt like he was about to faint. All that blood, flowing in streams over Nimue's precious white skin, over the neat dress she wore and the undergrowth beneath her feet.

Nimue finally tore her clothes and made some final cuts on her face, and looked at Azriel.

Then she realized he was trembling, still as a statue and staring at her, his eyes wide. Around him, those shadows danced frantically from side to side, some bold enough to approach her and hover over her cuts.

"I'll be fine. Wish me luck, pretty face."

Azriel swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He had seen it all, dismembered soldiers and people torn apart. By the Mother, he had done worse things to many people.

But seeing her like this...

They exchanged one last look, and Nimue started walking away, leaving the shelter of the forest.

The sunlight blinded her and she had to squint. She had chosen the perfect moment, as she just saw her cousins cross the mansion door and start descending the stairs. Behind them, the hateful human and the High Lord.

She had to focus on the cuts, on keeping them open, on mitigating the pain. She limped, dragging her right leg, her shoes soaked with all the blood she was losing, and when she saw her cousins looking at her, she let herself fall to the ground.

She searched every small corner of her being, every bit of anger she had suppressed over the last month, and pulled and pulled. She pulled until she felt herself explode, and let herself go.

She began to cry loudly, pretending false relief, letting out sobs typical of someone truly escaping from torture. Although in reality, she was just going back to the torturers.

She feigned relief when her cousins ran towards her and crossed the distance separating them in record time. She feigned relief when she felt them kneel beside her, asking her questions, starting to heal her wounds with their magic. She feigned relief when, between sobs and fake complaints, she began to answer them.

"They tortured me," she said. She took a breath and let out another false sob, this time her gaze fixed on Tamlin and Lucien, who were approaching cautiously. "They drugged me with faebane and tortured me. They're monsters."

Her cousins comforted her and ran their hands over her body, covering the wounds with their hands and closing them with that black and rotten magic that gave Nimue chills.

They kept asking her things and she answered, with little detail and between sobs: they had skipped a dose of faebane and that's how she had managed to escape, they had asked her about the Cauldron and her father's army, they had hurt her so much...

Her cousins bought it the first time, trusting their little innocent cousin, the king's beloved jewel. What reasons would the little princess have to lie?

However, between tears, she could see that Jurian didn't quite believe her. It didn't matter; sooner or later, he would fall too. And if not, she would kill him before he opened his mouth.

When they had healed all her wounds and the tears subsided, her cousins lifted her from the grass and led her carefully into the mansion. The blind faith the twins had in her was impressive, for they had also learned to see her for what she was: the key that would lead them to win the war.

They crossed the gate of the house and reached the vestibule. Before the doors closed behind them, Nimue glanced back, towards the edges of the forest, and with some effort managed to spot him.

Azriel stood there, astonished, following every detail of the scene with his mouth open. It had been so, so easy. And Nimue was so, so good at pretending.

A small pang of suspicion made it hard for him to breathe, but he soon felt the warmth of the tattoo on his right hand, as a reminder that he should trust, that he should trust the princess.

He fixed his gaze on her, on the other side of that clearing and inside the mansion's vestibule, and even at all those meters away, Azriel glimpsed the small cruel and rotten smile that the princess directed at him.

Here Nimue's plan began. Like a slow-acting poison, she would ensure to indirectly harm her father so much that he would think twice about even looking in the direction of Prythian.

The doors finished closing, and she turned her gaze forward, to her cousins, to Tamlin and Jurian, who a few meters away from her were discussing something quietly. She looked around, at the beauty of the house that Feyre had described to her, which, although somewhat neglected, was still just as intoxicating, when she felt a presence behind him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the tan skin, the reddish hair. She didn't bother to turn around, but Lucien spoke low enough for none of those present to hear but her:

"You're not going to fool me, little princess," he whispered in her ear. Nimue turned slightly to look the male in the eyes. Amazed, she met the mechanical golden orb, while the other eye looked at her with suspicion and scrutiny. "I know no one forced you to escape from Hybern, I know what they're like in the Night Court. The others might not have noticed it, but the disgusting smell of the Shadowsinger was suffocating at the edge of the forest."

Nimue looked at him, a silly smile on her face.

"I like you, Lucien," she whispered back. She turned her gaze forward again, still feeling the male's presence behind her. "But I don't know what you're talking about."

Lucien growled and took a step back.

Nimue couldn't wipe the smile off her face. This was going to be fun.

She had spent the day testing the waters, tempting fate with innocent questions, silently observing how the relationship between the Spring Court and Hybern's people worked. She excused herself from dinner early, and under the watchful gaze of everyone present, she left the huge dining room.

As soon as she was out of sight, she ran through the hallways she had memorized all afternoon. She knew which corners to turn and which corridors to navigate, and she reached the door of what was her new room. When she entered, she closed the huge wooden door and covered all the walls with her magical guards: nothing and no one could see, hear, or feel what happened inside.

She smelled Azriel's scent in the room above the touches of roses and fruits, but still didn't feel his presence. She kept looking and inspecting the room from top to bottom, absorbing every detail, when she saw something on her bed: the same candies that Feyre had offered her in the Night Court.

Nimue felt her body vibrating with joy, feeling seen and loved. That someone, anyone, had thought of her and had managed to get those candies there.

She took the first one and brought it to her mouth, immersed in that intoxicating sensation that eating something so delicious produced in her, and didn't realize that Azriel was there, among the shadows cast by the moonlight in the room.

He simply remained silent, watching her in the midst of that raid she was carrying out on the candies he had left there, so she wouldn't forget. So she wouldn't forget that her place was in Velaris, with them.

With us.

"I'm glad you liked the surprise."

Nimue wasn't even surprised. She just kept enjoying the candies, glancing over her shoulder at Azriel.

"I knew deep down in your heart you'd end up caring for me."

She turned completely towards him, mouth full of sweets, hands sticky, and Azriel could swear he would die right there.

How could he not care for her, when there was something inside him that melted every time he looked in her direction, when their skins brushed against each other?

"How has your day been? Are you alright, have they done anything to you?" Azriel's voice tinged with concern did not go unnoticed by Nimue, who, smiling at him again, dropped onto the bed. She patted the space next to her on the adorned quilt, but the Shadowsinger stood in front of her, looking down at her.

"They haven't done anything to me, don't worry. They wouldn't dare because they know what I'm capable of, and they've played their part well."

Azriel frantically searched for any marks of the wounds and blood he had seen on the princess's skin, but found that the only scars there were the usual ones, those covering the fingers of her hands and caused by all the hours training with weapons. He felt something inside him click again, his most primitive instinct to protect her relaxing when he saw her whole and unharmed.

"Good. I'll pass on everything you tell me to Rhysand, and if you need anything just ask."

Nimue bit her tongue. She needed something, but she wasn't going to ask for it out loud. She wasn't going to ask Azriel to stay there that night, next to her. She wasn't going to tell him that being back with her psychopathic cousins had stirred something inside her, that putting on that mask of the evil princess had brought her back to her former life, where her stay in Velaris would have been nothing but a fever dream.

They looked at each other, in silence, and it seemed that Azriel understood what Nimue wanted to say, even without her uttering a word. He held her hands, which he hadn't let go of all that time, and knelt in front of the princess.

"I'll stay guard while you sleep," he whispered. Nimue swallowed the lump forming in her throat and prayed to the Cauldron not to start crying at that moment. "I'll make sure nothing happens and you won't be alone. You rest."

Nimue nodded and quickly got into bed under Azriel's watchful gaze, and as she drifted off to sleep, she whispered to him:

"In a couple of days, we'll be back in Velaris, and I'll make sure you show me the best bakeries in the city."

Azriel smiled tenderly, watching as Nimue drifted off to sleep, and stood guard until the sun was high in the sky.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator @superspideyparker @bookwormysblog

[v1naco]

Okay hear me out

Simon Riley x reader but Venom AU.

Like Simon did go into the military but he left a couple years after when (I know this is not canon cause I love his family too much and my baby deserves happiness) his family gets attacked. They’re still alive (besides his father cause fuck that dude) but they got seriously injured.

The attack left him hurt mentally a lot and having to help them heal when he was struggling with his own things made it all worse. So when he went on a night walk he somehow comes across Venom and they bond(?I don’t know how to put it?).

Fast forward years later when his family is a lot better health wise, he uses catching bad guys and letting Venom eat most of them to blow off excess steam and as his therapy. He is out doing his regular shit eating bad guys and he comes across you getting robbed.

You just had a horrible day at work and just wanted to go home and sleep but this guy just had to choose you, a young woman a lone with her earbud(s) in and a backpack on her back walking past the opening of an alleyway at like 11pm.

You were too tired and smart to fight and decided to give the man what he wanted, money, but you only had $3.34 on you from tips and change. The man was pissed, but what is a woman in her last year of college supposed to have, a centurion card (Black Card)? You were living off of hard hours working in the restaurant industry and the scholarships you got to not go in dept after you graduate, even now. You were even an RA but tuition is still pricy.

Simon saw the squabble and knew you just needed some help, since the man just pulled a knife out, and you looked like you could just lay on the floor and sleep the next week away.

Simon (actually Venom) lands on the ground and politely, to the best of his abilities which is none, tells the man to hand back you your money and to walk away. The man argued saying he deserved it, you just wanted to walk away but as Venom took his first step out into the light the man grabs your arm and puts the knife to your neck.

Now you were not only pissed but scared, pissed that if this man slits your throat or puts you in the hospital it can ruin your chance at graduating, and after all those gruesome years of pain and suffering you did not want to redo a whole year. Scared because who wouldn’t be scared of a knife to your neck and the guy holding it looks like his off his rocker.

When you turned your head towards Simon, not only did he see the fear and anger in your eyes but he saw how beautiful you were, even as he could see the light sheen of sweat on you, your dirty hair, and the prominent eye bags you were carrying around, but he would call those bags gucci with how beautiful you looked still with no make up and the bad situation you got unlucky with.

When you saw him your eyes widened. Apparently the man had gotten more scared than you seeing the big black and dark gray mass. Shaped with a human complexion of a body but the head was obviously alien.

The man shoved the knife’s dull blade into your neck enough to draw a small line of blood. Though he didn’t get far enough to cut you deeper since Venom shot a tendril out and grabbed the mans arm. The man dropped the knife due to the pain radiating from his arm. Venom asked (really he threatened) the man to hand you back what he stole from you and he threw insults, calling you all sorts of names you wished to never be called by anyone.

Simon, and especially Venom, was in a happier mood today and would have let that man go with a very distinct warning, but those insults thrown at you slammed that “good day” door right on their faces. Simon believed that no words such as the ones he spoke, should be heard by your pretty ears, those pretty ears with all those pretty jewelry on every inch of them, dangling and reflecting the street and store lights off of the jewels.

Simon didn’t wish for you to see this next part but Venom liked your ear piercings and tattoos and was getting very cranky and wished to take a bite of that man’s head. Simon couldn’t stop Venom in time and the next thing you notice is the blood and the top part of the man’s cervical vertebrae sticking out.

You were a wide eyed doe right then and there. With your hand on your mouth not trying to breath anything around you in. Venom then turns and asks if you’re alright. He was sorry you had to see it, you just nodded and continued to look at the body, slowly and weirdly getting used to it the more you stared at it. You believe you should take a break from all those movies and shows that has a lot of gore in it, believing that your reaction to this situation is not normal.

With how you reacted, and noticing you not shaking much at all anymore, Venom strikes up a conversation with you, much to Simon’s protest. He noticed the accent and figures out that you are not originally from the area, definitely from a different country. As seconds pass, Venom and Simon like you more and more. Asking to walk you home to make sure you are okay, Venom changes back to Simon and he walks you home. You’re much too surprised and still very much so tired and don’t try to fight him on his request to walk you home. But you enjoy the silence between you both, it was calming and you didn’t need to listen to music to fill that silence for once.

When he reached your home he wished you a safe and well night. You stop him real quickly, asking if you could do anything for him to repay him for helping you. He said he didn’t need anything from you. Just as he was turning to walk away you ask to at least cook him a mean sometime, him AND Venom of course, remembering that Venom said that that man’s head was not tasty and he was still hungry.

Simon did not wish to bring you into his pain filled life, but he wished to be selfish for once for his own happiness and with that Simon agrees. He walks away with one lesser bad guy on the streets and with a new number in his contacts, ready to set up a dinner with the woman he knew would later marry.

Anyway thats my little thought of a Simon Riley Venom AU. I did’t specify an age of the reader cause people are different ages during their college/university years and some people go to school for more than the regular 2-4 years. But I was thinking Simon would be about around 25 while the reader is around 22/23 but can be older, maybe even 21 if you want her to be, but nothing under cause those specific age gaps weird me out.

I also did not specify his and her appearance or what she wears bc I don’t really care but if I did I would say more so jeans, converse, and t-shirt with maybe a zip up type style. I do love a girly with many piercings and tattoos though so I wanted to put it in there.

Anyway…sorry Im a d1 yapper😔. I just thought a simon+venom au would be perfect and he would fit the role of Eddie so well. Especially with the motorcycle ugh creaming rn😩. Ehem. Do with this how you want but I do hope that if you do use this please tag me. Maybe give me credits for this idea since I have not found anything like this anywhere if you want. But yeah if someone writes this PLEASE TAG ME. I write for shit so I definitely am not.

[pinkydevil16]

Dark! Bucky Barnes x Reader- Winter Soldier

Non-con warning, kidnapping, drugs, sexual and physical abuse as well as psychological abuse. 

The Winter Solider was HYDRA's number one priority when it came to their projects, he was their prized dog and they planned to keep him that way. 

Bucky sat in his cell, a pool of blood and a beautiful woman laid within it. He was heaving, he was angry and resentful of the life he lived. He could not remember anything else and yet his mind was disgusted by every action, every kill and every thought he possessed. Especially now as he stared at the lifeless corpse of a HYRDA agent sent to "relieve" him. It happened occasionally, when he had first been taken he had relished in the human contact, still human himself but now, now he despised it. It was all a ploy to see if they could breed a super soldier to see what would make him tick to use it against him. He didn't feel any regret or guilt as his handlers entered, his body listening to their commands as he watched two men drag the woman away. He could tell his handler was unhappy, could see the vein in his forehead threatening to pop as he spoke.

"We try Soldat, to give you everything you could desire, to keep you happy. And you repay us by ripping our presents apart. All you had to do was stick your cock in her." Bucky watched as the handler left, guards following as the cell door slammed closed and he was left once again with the pool of blood. 

"Get Prisoner 265 and bring them to the decontamination unit." The handler spoke as he looked through the log of women they held captive. 

"NO! You bastards get off me." Y/n screamed three men dragged her from cell, her clothes ratty and dirty as one of them grabbed her hair and yanked her towards the showers.

"Wash." She was dumped on the ground as a cold sponge hit her legs, her eyes glaring at the men as she spat at their feet.

"Fuck you." One of the guards went to grab her as Y/n grinned loving how easily riled they were, the other grabbing him back as he smirked at Y/n.

"You can have all the attitude you want in here because once the Soldat is released on you. You'll be begging us for help whilst he splits you in two." Y/n glared at the man before she was pelting with cold water, her body falling back against the tiles as they sprayed her down. Coughing she tried to get on all fours before the guard kicked her in the stomach and watched as she collapsed harshly into a ball, cold and wet as they laughed. 

"Whore." One of them laughed out as they continued to spray her down, the cold water making her skin go red at the pressure.

"Make her look presentable." Y/n was strapped into a chair as a woman stood across from her, scissors and other tools beside her whilst a man in a long white coat began observing her. Her naked body on display for them as she bared her teeth at the man.

"Good teeth. One molar missing, reported when found." As he spoke he forced her mouth open and nodded to himself before writing something in his book.

"Broken rib and three toes reported when found, appears to be all corrected." His pen pressed against her foot where the three toes healed slightly weird. His pen poked against her left side as he looked at the tattoo on her ribs.

"Tattoo given upon arrival." Y/n recalled the pain of the tattoo, feeling the man use a small hammer and needle to mark some symbol onto her ribs.

"No obvious scaring on face, Y/C eyes and Y/C skin, Y/C hair and approximately 25 years old." The man placed down his book as he turned to the woman.

"I will return in one hour." The woman nodded and Y/n gave her pleading eyes.

"Look you don't have to do this." Before she could continue the woman rolled her eyes and shoved a gag into her mouth, Y/n choking slightly as the woman began tidying up her hair.

Y/n despised how the guards held her arms so tight, the loose dress she wore was similar to a hospital gown. Each step felt like hell as they pulled her along, her feet barely touching the ground as she screamed at them.

"Get off of me! You fucking cunts i'll scratch your damn eyes out." Y/n's shouts fell on deaf ears as a door opened and they threw her in, her body hitting the ground loudly before she scrambled up and ran at the door as it closed. A scream coming from her as she began slamming her hands into the door. 

"Another one?" The deep voice made Y/n stop as she turned and saw a man sat behind her, a metal bed with a mattress beside him as he sat on a rusty metal chair.

"Shit." Y/n spoke under her breath as she pressed herself against the door, the man was massive, his black hair fell beside his jawline with small stubble coating it. His body dressed in combat gear and heavy boots pressed into the concrete slabs. Her eyes moved to his arms, one skin and one metal, she noticed the symbol on his arm matched the one on her ribs from what she could recall. Sucking in a breath she didn't dare look away from him as he stood, his protruding figure stalking towards her in near silence as she tried to appear larger by standing straight. That's what she had learnt to do with bears and that's all she could think to do now. 

"You must be the Soldat." Y/n's voice was low as she looked at him, he was handsome and yet the most menacing man she had ever come across. His eyes were piercing into her very soul as his metal hand came up and punched the door begin her, her body jumping as she looked at the dent in the metal as he leaned closer. 

"And you must be the whore they sent me." Y/n looked at him as she felt tears in her eyes, she refused to cry as she raised a hand and pushed her hair out her face.

"I don't know why i was sent here but i am not a whore." Y/n managed to grit out the last word, if she was going to die then she was going to die fighting. The soldat seemed to let out a half laugh half scoff as he looked her up and down, his flesh hand quickly grabbing her throat and pressing her against the door.

"Every woman who comes through these doors is a whore sent for me to fuck. You are no different, and you will die the same as they did." Y/n groaned in pain as she dug her nails into his flesh but kept her eyes on him, seeing his head tilt slightly before he stepped back, his arm pushed outwards to hold her still. 

"Soldat, if you kill this one you will be put in the chamber." A voice crackled over the speakers as Y/n began gasping for air, his hand loosening as he growled before dropping her. Y/n's legs collapsed as she grasped at her throat, eyes welling up with tears as she coughed out and spluttered trying to gain some air back to her lungs. 

"You're like a child throwing his toys out the pram." Y/n spat out as she leaned against the door, watching the Soldat as he sat back on the rusty chair and stared at her with hatred. 

"You are a whore, you do not speak to me." Y/n rubbed her neck as she watched him flex his metal arm. 

Bucky watched her closely as her hands touched the soft skin of her neck, he enjoyed her spark, he wanted to watch it burn out and see her completely give herself to him. He was between two minds, most of the women came in and tried to seduce him, most likely to save their own skin. They'd touch him and try not to show fear but he saw it the second he moved towards them. But this one was different, she was defiant and too against it all to be a HYDRA agent. Maybe that was what he liked, that she was also being controlled by them, that she wasn't wanting to do this to him like the others did. Maybe he sympathised with her. Maybe that's why he chose to do what he did. 

Standing up Bucky walked towards Y/n, her eyes never leaving his form as she scurried to her feet and stayed still, his chest touching hers as he finally stopped.

"Strip." Y/n couldn't find the words as she shook her head and held her dress.

"Strip or i will strip you." 

Bucky's handler grinned as they watched behind the one way glass, their Soldat was finally following their orders fully. They watched as Y/n glared at the Soldat for a minute her eyes shifting to behind him where the bed laid and the handler held his breath as the Soldat grabbed her dress and ripped it off her.

"Get on the bed or i will fuck you on the ground." The handler let out a laugh and watched as the scientists each noted down different things, their monitors next to them showing each of their hear signatures and heart rates. The soldat's was faster than usual but nothing compared to Y/n's beating heart. Another scientist adjusted the temperature, making the room a degree warmer as they watched the heat signature on Y/n go cooler against her feet and hands. They needed this first time to work, for him to not kill her with his hands or with his lust, then they could move onto phase 2. 

Y/n wanted to punch, kick and fight her way out but she knew she was defenceless as the Soldat grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the bed. She stood tall and proud as she walked towards it, staring at it before she was roughly forced to bend over the side. Her arms pinned behind her back as he stood behind her. 

"You must feel like such a strong man forcing me to do this." Y/n spat as she heard his belt fall to the ground, a grunt coming from him as she braced herself. 

The handler let out a laugh as he heard Y/n's scream in pain, watching as she bit the bedding to suppress the scream as the Soldat pounded into her. His hands clasping together as he watched.

"In the whole time i have been his handler i have never been prouder. I've had to deal with over 40 women being slaughtered by him and all it took was a little bit of fire to spark it." The man laughed darkly as he landed a hand on the scientist with a grin.

"Good work." His laughter echoed throughout the compound as he walked out, the guards following him whilst the scientists continued with their tests and reports. The grunts from the Soldat fading into the background.

Y/n refused to cry, as much as she wanted to be a sobbing mess and beg him to stop she refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead she bit down on the mattress and tried to hold in her cries of pain, her arms feeling at almost breaking point as he forced them closer to her shoulder blades with each thrust. The same thrust that felt like she would be torn in two, she knew she was bleeding and that he was most likely enjoying it. She stared blankly at the mattress as she felt her body jostle against the cheap fabric bedding, the friction burn against her breasts and stomach was nothing compared to the burn in her pussy as he continued his merciless pounding. She felt the blood rushing to her ears and a horrible headache pouring into her brain, every nerve on edge as her body was yanked upwards. 

"I'm going to keep you Little Dove." The Soldat whispered in her ear as he moved to hold her throat, his metal hand grasping her soft skin harshly as he forced her head back to look at him. Watching the pain in her eyes as she held back tears, his eyes boring into her as he thrust deeper at the new angle. His flesh hand kneading at her hip before he groaned and dropped his head into the crescent of her shoulder, his teeth biting down hard as she let out a small cry of pain. His metal hand contracting and cutting off her airwaves as he came deep inside her, her body beginning to shake as she tried desperately to catch her breath. She imagined this was how so many before her had died, how she would die but instead just as she saw black dots she was thrown down onto the mattress. Her body begged for air as she coughed, her throat already feeling bruised as she wheezed and tried desperately to fill her lungs but the pain in her throat made her breathing more laboured. 

Y/n laid on the mattress for what felt like hours coughing and trying to breathe normally but every intake was half hearted and only caused her to grasp at her throat and try harder. 

"Get out." Y/n glared at the Soldat as he grabbed her arm and threw her towards the door, her voice barely working as she tried to curse him out but it only came out in a hoarse whisper as the door slid open and guards pulled her out. 

"Good job 265 you've been promoted." The handler grinned as Y/n was pulled towards the infirmary, a trail of blood dripped down her legs as they forced her to walk. 

Y/n sat in her cell, she had been released from the infirmary with strict instructions she be given 24 hours before being sent back in. She was disgusted, they'd poked and prodded her, injected her with drugs she didn't even understand the name of and taken a semen sample from her abused pussy. She had tried to fight against the restraints but that had quickly been shut down when they threatened to bring the Soldat in to hold her down, she'd held her tongue and glared at them as they continued. When they pressed the needle into her arm they claimed it would help her withstand the Soldat,i to be able to move onto phase 2. She'd wanted to rip her arm out and smash the vial, tell them they could shove phase 2 up their ass but exhaustion was hitting her hard and she could barely feel her throat. 

Now she curled her knees up to her chest and tried to ignore the blinding pain between her legs and the tenderness in her neck. She felt like shit, like she'd been run over three times in a row and yet that seemed more appealing than what she had truly endured. She didn't understand why someone would ever want this to happen, would plan for this. Instead she stared at the cell door and thought and thought, and thought. And with each thought another violent act came to mind of which way she would end them all. She wanted to castrate the Soldat, cut out his tongue and watch him choke on his own blood. And the scientists, she imagined restraining them and injecting them with every experiment they ever came up with, just so they knew what it felt like to be tampered with. She savoured the image of the man who called her 265, the officer who orchestrated it all, she wanted to watch him scream and beg for his life. She imagined all sorts of ways to hurt him, from skinning him alive to tying him to a car and driving as fast as she could but none of them brought her happiness. None of the violent images helped her, they only made her worse, reminded her that she was stuck here. That it wasn't some horrible nightmare to wake up from, this was her reality. 

The handler grinned as he walked towards the Soldat, Bucky watched him closely as he approached.

"You did well Soldat. If you do well on your missions we will reward you with her." Bucky nodded as the handler grinned and leaned down so he was face to face with the Winter Soldier.

"Good job making her scream." The man laughed in Bucky's face as he stared at him, no emotion behind his eyes before they began dragging him to the electric chair for more conditioning. A reward before he was forced to comply with his next mission. 

Y/n stood on shakey legs as she tried to walk to the toilet in the far corner of her cell, the pain between her legs was burning as she bit her lip to stop from crying out. Each step was agony before she finally managed to sit on the rusty metal toilet, tears prickling her eyes as she wiped and saw the blood. Scrunching her eyes up she threw the paper in the toilet and stood, flushing it quickly and trying to walk normally back to the bed so no one would see her pain. 

"Against the wall!" A voice shouted as a loud bang sounded inside the cell, Y/n grabbed her ears and fell against the wall as she held herself up with her back. Watching as the cell door slid open and in walked three guards, two of them the same as who had thrown her into the shower and another one holding a tray with slop. Moving her hands off her ears she stood straighter although she could feel the pain shoot through her stomach as she did. Holding her head high she watched as the leader of the three approached her with a sick smile, his hand coming out and grasping her bruised throat as she gripped his arm.

"We all heard you scream for the Soldat. If you survived that you should be able to handle us three just fine." Y/n's eyes widened as she watched the man place the tray down and close the cell door. Y/n shifted her eyes back to the man holding her as she put a sweet smile on her face.

"Whatever you want Sir." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to stop it cracking from the pain as he smirked and leant closer to kiss her. Y/n took his weakness as opportunity and slammed her arm down against his elbow, forcing his hand to open and let go of her throat as she smashed her forehead against his nose hearing a sickening crack. As he stumbled back she raised her foot and slammed it between his legs watching as he crumbled to the ground whilst the other two grabbed their radios and tasers.

"You dumb whore." The man on the ground cried out as she stumbled away from the two approaching her, her hands feeling behind her for anything to defend herself. 

"Fucking shock her." He shouted as he clutched his nose, Y/n's eyes widening as one of them begin moving closer and raising the taser, her hand managing to grab the tray and throw it at him as the slop covered his face and he yelped in surprise. 

"Back off." Y/n's voice was hoarse and barely a normal tone as she tried to shout at them, but she knew she was going to lose this battle. The other man tased her as she shook and yelped out in pain falling to the ground, the other two recovered and standing over her.

"You little bitch i'm going to teach you a god damn lesson." The guard spoke as blood coated his face and teeth, Y/n convulsed on the ground as the shocks finally stopped but instead she felt numerous kicks to her stomach and legs as she protected her head. She cried out in pain as he forced her onto her back and punched her in the face, feeling her jaw crack slightly at the force, his hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing as he began unbuckling his belt.

"You pathetic whore. You think you're better than us huh? Cos you survived that monster." Y/n managed to spit some blood at the man which made him let out a grunt as he forced his trousers down and shouted orders at the guards to hold her down. Y/n was pinned by her shoulders on either side as she tried to kick out, the adrenaline pumping through her body as she squirmed like a wild animal, her hair sticking to her bloodied and sweaty face as she tried to scream but nothing came out. As she felt him forcing her legs apart she heard the cell door slam open, the guards looking towards the door before she turned her head and saw him. The Soldat. Before she could comprehend what happened he had the guard by his throat and sickening crunch echoed through the cell before his body dropped at her legs, his body turned to the two holding her down as they tried to run but he was quicker. Y/n closed her eyes as she heard the slamming of bodies and more breaking bones, her body curling into a ball as she felt every injury ache and spike in pain. 

"Little Dove." His voice was deep and not reassuring in the slightest as he gripped her arm and forced her up, a yelp coming from her as he threw her into the mattress and glared down at her. He looked her over fully before stepping back as guards all rushed in, his handler entering a moment later with an angry look as he took in the cell, Y/n barely conscious on the bed and three dead guards whilst the Soldat stood rigid in military position awaiting orders. 

The handler stood behind the one way glass, it had been two days since the Soldat had bust his way through to Prisoner 265's cell and killed the three guards. Y/n was still in the infirmary being treated for broken ribs, a cracked jaw and some internal bleeding which was very inconvenient for the Project. He wanted to begin phase 2 quickly and had made it very clear to all those on the base that if they in anyway interfered they would be punished. Now he watched as the Soldat's cell door opened and a frightened woman was pushed in, she looked similar to 265 but was more skittish and let out a cry as she noticed the Soldat. 

"Please, please let me out." The woman begged as she cried, the Handler watched carefully as the Soldat approached her. Her sobs growing louder as she curled into herself on the ground, his figure looming over her as he grunted and turned back around walking away. Sitting back in his chair and ignoring her as the handler scowled and pressed the speaker. 

"Soldat. You know what to do." Bucky raised his head and stared at the one way glass, he only saw himself reflected but he could feel his Handler watching him. Scowling he stood and approached the glass, standing exactly opposite the handler who looked at the scientists in confusion.

"Bring me Little Dove." Bucky's voice was deep and demanding as he looked back at the woman who sobbed harder and clung to her legs in fear. 

"This is not a negotiation Soldat. You will have whoever we give you." Bucky looked back at the glass and tilted his head slightly, assessing how strong it would be before turning around and stalking towards the woman. She cried and begged as he lifted her up, forcing her towards the glass before he slammed her face against the glass so hard it cracked. The handler jumped back as he watched her face crumble under the pressure and the crack of her bones breaking as he reared her head back and slammed it again, the glass breaking apart slowly and imbedding in her skin as she cried out. The scientists all cringed as he smashed her face once more against the glass and the heart monitor slowed before fully stopping, her body hitting the ground as he stared at the crack. 

"Bring. Me. Little. Dove." The handler felt his hands shake slightly before he cleared his throat and shook his head trying to find out what words would work the best to bring control back to himself. 

"This is not how it works Soldat. We own you, you follow our commands. Now sit down or i will kill your Little Dove." Bucky stared for a moment before he raised his fist and punched the glass with his metal arm, watching it shatter as everyone in the other room stepped back and tried not to get cut whilst he stared into the Handler's eyes. Bucky stared for a minute before returning to his chair and awaiting his Little Dove. 

Y/n was shoved into the cell and the door locked behind her as she caught herself, her body shaking from being forced out the infirmary and into the Soldat's cell. She raised her head as he stared at her, taking in her black eye and bruised jaw, the various bruises littering her skin that weren't caused by him. Each mark made him growl to himself before his gaze settled on her neck, his hand mark bruised the skin and settled into a deep purple mark that made him grunt in approval. Y/n stood taller as she winced at the pain in her ribs and legs, her eyes never leaving the Soldat as he approached her. Each step felt like a lifetime as he neared her, her body wanting to shrivel up and die as he brought his hand up to her chin and raised it, looking her face over before grabbing her arm in a gentle grip. One that would still bruise but not nearly as tight as he had previously held her, pulling her to the bed before he pushed her in front of him.

"Bend over." Y/n turned around quickly and glared at him, her jaw set as she felt the muscles contract and pain shoot through her nerves.

"No." Y/n didn't care if she died, she's been kidnapped, beaten and raped. She refused to bend to his will. 

"Bend over or i'll snap your back." Y/n gritted her teeth as she took a step forward her chest pressing against his as she tilted her head to continue to hold eye contact.

"If you're going to rape me then atleast have the balls to look me in the eyes as you do it. You coward." 

The handler let out a laugh from behind the bullet proof one way glass, an upgrade from the previous one as he watched the scientists continue to monitor. 

"Is the serum working?" He didn't move his eyes off the scene in front of him as one of scientists flicked through their clipboard and looked between her previous vitals and her current ones.

"Her red blood count had gone up over double since we injected her with the serum and she appears to be taking to it well." The handler nodded as he watched the Soldat glare at 265.

Y/n couldn't understand the Soldat as he spat out a word in russian she could barely register before his hand grabbed her jaw and squeezed. She felt tears prickle her eyes as she whimpered in pain, her hands instinctively grabbing at his hand feeling the flesh under her finger tips. 

"You need to learn your place." Bucky spoke lowly as he pushed her backwards, her body bouncing on the mattress twice before she was able to stop herself from moving and look up at him.

"You are nothing more than a puppet." Y/n gritted out before he gripped her legs and forced them open, his body looming over her as he kissed her harshly. A gasp coming from her as she tried to push his face off, turning her head to the side and grunting as she tried to fight against him. Every movement stung as he grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head, his thighs pushing her legs open and heavy boots sitting across her ankles to keep them open as he held both her hands in his metal hand. His other coming to his belt as he looked down at her with malice, her teeth gritted and eyes sparked with defiance as she refused to look down. She felt his combat trousers against the inside of her thighs as he lined himself up and with a malicious grin he thrust inside. Watching her closely as her face scrunched up in pain and her chest began heaving whilst she tried to breathe through the pain. Her head falling to the side as she let out a cry of pain, he felt her hands ball up and could see her nails digging into her palms.

"Little Dove, look at me whilst i ravish you." His voice was silky smooth in her ear as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. Her eyes were full of tears as he pulled back and thrust in deeper and harder than before, watching how the wind was knocked out of her and her eyes almost bulged out her head. He let out a light laugh as he let go of her chin and ran his hand along her body and between her legs, his rough fingertips making goosebumps along her body as she grit her teeth. His eyes never leaving hers as he swirled his fingers around her clit and smirked as she hiccuped in shock.

"I'm going to make your body love this. Your mind might hate you but your body will learn to follow my every command. I will own you. I will be your puppet master and i will make you sing for me whenever i please." His voice was barely audible as a faint Brooklyn accent seemed to slip into his voice, her eyes were blurred by tears as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"It doesn't mean anything. I will never enjoy this no matter what you do to me. I don't want this." Y/n mumbled to herself, fear creeping along her stomach and stilling her heart as she felt herself grow wet, she felt disgusted with herself. She didn't want this, she didn't enjoy this and yet her body was betraying her. She hated every second but some part of her was thankful as the pain began to subside, but the burning fire of hate ripped the gratefulness away as her stomach began to coil. She held her tongue so hard it bled as the Soldat thrusts became slow and deliberate, his fingers moving in tandem with the rise and fall of her chest as she kept her eyes closed. She refused to be apart of this. She tried to think of anything else, she wanted to drift away in her mind and leave her body behind to take on the burden. But instead she brutally forced back into her body as he thrust harshly into her and snarled. Her eyes popped open as her body shocked back to life under him, her mind reeling to remember how to breathe.

"You don't go anywhere. You are mine. Your mind is mine. Your body is mine Little Dove." Bucky sped his finger up as his thrusts got deeper and quicker, watching her body move with each thrust and hiccups and yelps exit her mouth. His grunts following each thrust and his eyes closing momentarily before opening to stare into hers with purpose, watching her pupils widen and body begin to shake. Y/n tried to concentrate on anything else, her eyes boring into his forehead instead of his eyes as she bit down on her already bloody tongue and tried to think of the taste. Anything to distract her from the curling of her toes or the sob in her throat that wanted to break free as her body shook. Bucky let out a loud moan as he thrust deeper before stilling, his breathing controlled as he forced a kiss on Y/n. Her eyes closing and allowing her some reprieve as she distanced herself from her body, trying not to feel his cum seeping out of her or how heavy his body was against her own. 

Y/n laid in her cell, her mind reeling and body shivering with disgust as she thought of the smirk he had given her as she was taken away. As though he had fully taken her in that moment, but she knew he didn't own her. He could say it, he could think it, he could shout it from the rooftops and put it in the papers but it didn't matter to her. He didn't own her. 

The same routine continued for almost three months, she would be brought to him, he would try to break her and she would wish he died. Each time it was like a small piece of herself was chipped away, like he was slowly unravelling her like a ball of yarn to get to the centre. He was greedy, he wanted to revel in her body coming undone from him, to see the hatred and disgust in her eyes. He enjoyed the control, when he had none else where, she reminded him of himself. His old self, before they had messed with his mind and some sick part of him wanted to break her like they did him. A nagging voice in the back of his head wanted to preserve that spark, to nurture it and make it grow bigger until she finally exploded. 

Y/n stood in the doorway to the cell, the guard unlocking her handcuffs as she stared down the Soldat. The same routine as always, she'd refuse to look away and he would drink in her attention. But this time it was different, he wasn't sat in his normal chair instead he was laid on the bed. His normal uniform gone and instead only his combat trousers covering him as he leant his head against his arms. He seemed to relaxed as he gave her a smile, one that made her body stand on edge as the guard pushed her inside. 

"Hey Doll." His voice was thick with a Brooklyn accent, one she had only heard in passing and yet it sounded so natural as he pushed his hair back and moved to let her have space on the bed. She raised an eyebrow, that nickname was not one he had ever used before. She was Little Dove. Never anything different. He seemed to give her a tentative smile as she approached, her eyes darting around the room waiting for the sick joke but instead he pat the bed and looked at her with adoring eyes.

"Didn't think i'd ever meet a dame so pretty." His voice was barely above a whisper as he looked towards the one way glass. Y/n scowled as she took him in, his whole aura had changed, he was relaxed and human. That was the only word that came to her head as she surveyed him. Human. 

"What the hell are you playing at Soldat." Y/n spat as she looked at him, his face steeling slightly before he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"My name is Bucky. Say it." Y/n's eyes widened as he looked at her expectedly. She didn't want to know his name, it made it worse. It made him seem human and normal instead of the monster she had been thrown to time and time again. 

"No." Y/n stared at him as he seemed to process her words, his eyes moving back to the glass before returning to her face.

"I'm only here for a small amount of time before they bring him back. You should do what i ask." Y/n scowled and leant forward, her hand coming to sit beside his hip as she sneered at him.

"You are the Soldat, just because you put on an accent and pretend to be normal doesn't change the fact you're a monster." She spat the last word out as his eyes darkened and breathing quickened, his flesh hand coming out to grasp her throat but she was used to it now. Her body seemed to be more resilient to the abuse, healing quicker and she felt stronger than before. 

"Listen Doll, i want to try to treat you right. Because the other guy in my head likes you a lot but he has a bad way of showing it. So whilst i'm in control i thought i'd make you happy. But you need to be a good girl for me." Y/n's mouth turned into a mocking frown as she grabbed his arm and dug her nails in until she felt blood touch her finger tips.

"And you listen to me Bucky the only way i'll be happy is once you're six feet under." She felt his hot breath against her face as he huffed, her body suddenly being thrown down onto the bed as he climbed ontop of her.

"You have a really bad mouth on you Doll. But it's okay, i'm going to make you realise how sweet i can be." Y/n squirmed as he parted her legs, his hands holding her arms by her side as his shoulders kept her legs apart. Y/n watched as his head dipped lower, his lips kissing along her inner thighs before he let out a moan, his eyes moving to hers as she grit her teeth.

"You really are the prettiest Dame, i can't wait to hear you sing for me Doll." His mouth then dropped between her thighs and licked a strip along her pussy, her legs tried to close but he let out a tut against her clit, the hot hair making her sweat as he slightly shook his head.

"Oh Doll, don't be shy now. I've seen this pussy enough times i could draw it from memory." Y/n wanted to throw up as he spoke, his tongue lapping at her pussy rhythmically as she tried to wiggle away but his hold was steady as he moaned with each movement.

"So pretty. You're all mine Doll." He praised her as he swirled his tongue around her clit, his eyes moving to watch her chest rise and fall as she stared at the ceiling. His eyebrows matted together before he landed a harsh smack to her thigh making her yelp out and come back to reality as she looked down at him.

"Do not do that again." Y/n looked away as she felt his stubble graze her inner thigh, her heart beating quickly as she closed her eyes and tried to pretend to be present. A gasp escaping her as he sucked harshly on her clit eliciting a grin from him as he continued. Bucky moaned as he felt her begin to soak his stubble, his eyes rolling back as he ran his hands down her arms and entwined their hands. Y/n shivered at the intimate act, tears prickling her eyes as she willed them away. Her stomach felt tight and the heat between her legs was burning her up as her body responded to Bucky's actions. She felt tears escape her eyes as a shuddered whimper came from her throat as she came, her eyes closing tightly as she let out a small sob as she heard Bucky moan loudly and praise her.

"Good girl Doll, doing so well for me. Give me one more." Y/n shook her head and hiccuped as he moved both her hands together on her stomach and held them with his metal hand, his flesh one coming to palm at her inner thighs as he continued his rhythm on her clit. She shuddered as she felt his hand dip lower until he slowly pressed two fingers into her pussy, a guttural groan coming from him as he thrust them in and out.

"Damn Doll you're drenched for me. This pussy is amazing." He moved his head and sucked hard on her inner thigh making her yelp in pain as his fingers continued their brutal pace in and out. Each time they slide in he curled them methodically feeling how her pussy fluttered around his fingers and her breath hitched. Turning his head back he sucked on her clit as he moved his eyes to watch her back arch, her eyes closed but he could see the tears falling as she let out a ragged moan. Her head shaking side to side as she whispered to herself.

"Please no." Y/n begged as she continued to shake her head, she hated herself for feeling good because of him. She knew it wasn't her fault but it was horrible to be so out of control of her own body. As she came again she heard Bucky let out a growl and the bed shake as he thrust into it, his hand pulling from her to wrap around her thighs as he pulled her closer and lapped her up. Y/n squirmed and let out a cry as she tried to wiggle away, her hands now free as she began slapping at his head and trying to push him away. He finally let her go with a shakey moan as she scurried back and curled in on herself like a cat, her eyes red and vengeful as she watched him suck his fingers clean. His whole body seemed more relaxed as she let out a huff and grinned as he pushed back his hair.

"Jesus Doll, you are perfect you know that right?" He crawled towards her as she kicked her legs out and almost hissed at him, her nails digging into his skin as he rolled onto his back pulling her with him. His arms caging her in as he let out a sigh and closed his eyes, her body pinned on top of him as he smiled to himself.

"Try to sleep for a bit Doll before they drag you away and the other guy comes back." Y/n shook her head and kept her eyes wide open as she looked at the wall, she prayed they'd open the cell door as quick as usual and take her out but they didn't. Maybe it was because he hadn't almost choked her to death or make her bleed. Or maybe they just wanted to prolong her torture. Instead she laid there in his arms as he breathed in deeply and rubbed his stubble against her head, humming to himself in content. It felt like hours before the cell doors opened and Bucky was forced to hand her back, his eyes now harsh and menacing as he growled at the guards who grabbed her. Y/n refused to look towards him as she walked back to her cell, the Handler raising an eyebrow as he looked at her state. 

Y/n scrubbed at her body, the guards turned around and chatting to themselves whilst the scientist lifted her arms and examined her, her eyes darting to his as she sneered. The rough scrubber cleansed her skin of his scent as she scrubbed harder at her thighs and between her legs. She knew they'd make her do a pregnancy test in the morning, the same as every day. Pregnancy test, breakfast, examination and injection and then to the Soldat or to the cell. She knew they were pumping her body with hormones and something else that burnt when they injected her, they drew blood every other day and would give her specific vitamins when needed. She felt like cattle raised to slaughter. Every pregnancy test that came back negative gave her a boost of happiness to know she wasn't carrying his child, to know she was safe a while longer from the future. She feared the day it would all change, she knew it would eventually because that's why she was there. It was inevitable. 

[littlemissaddict]

Tattoo's - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader gets her first tattoo much to Eddie's surprise.

Word Count: 1277

She didn’t hear the front door open, or Eddie announce his arrival home from work. She was in the bathroom focused on cleaning her new tattoo completely unaware of his presence until she caught sight of movement in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. “Eddie!” she smiled excitedly, spinning around to face him where he was now leaning against the door frame watching her with intrigue.

He chuckled slightly as he stepped towards her, “Now baby what’s gotten you so distracted that I didn’t get my proper welcome home” he teased, smiling down at her as she stood in front of him. He figured it must be something big as she couldn’t stand still, he could feel her excitement radiating from her as she swung her clasped hands in front of her all the while a grin spread across her face.

“Well…” she draws out, her eyes quickly glancing down, so quick that Eddie almost misses the movement but she speaks again before he can follow her gaze downwards. “You know how I’ve been wanting a tattoo for a while” is all she manages before he interrupts her.

“You didn’t” his eyes widened as she nodded at him, "Let me see, let me see" he pleaded, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his excitement rivalled her own.

Holding out her arm, she watched him as his eyes followed the black tendrils of ink spanning across her forearm. His hands reached out to twist her arm slightly so that he could see from a different angle which she allowed seeing as his hands weren't actually touching the tender skin. Although the moment his hands moved to try and trace over the lines, she was quick to slap them away. "Nope not with your dirty, greasy mechanic hands" she scolded lightly, ignoring the pout that appeared on his plush lips, "I have to keep it clean so that I don't risk it getting infected" she informed him. It was something she assumed he knew considering the assortment of tattoos that littered his body and she was quick to point that out to him, "I just want it to heal properly like yours" she reasoned when he responded with a 'but baby'

Eddie snickered at that, "Yeah considering mine were done from a friend of a friend in Rick's basement it's a wonder they healed at all" he revealed, something she hadn't known before.

"Eddie it's your body, your life but it could get really dangerous if they'd have gotten infected" she urged. She'd heard all sorts of horror stories of people who had gotten ill from an infected tattoo so much so that they almost died, she shook the thought away, not willing to think of Eddie like that and instead opting just to look at him with wide eyes while she waited for his response.

"Yeah well when you short of cash you take your chances where you can" he shrugged as if it was nothing but he didn't miss the way her eyes grew comically larger at his nonchalance of the subject, "but I promise that's in the past, my last few have been from accredited tattooists in a proper parlour so you don't have to worry your pretty little head" he assured her, sealing it with a kiss to her forehead.

It had the desired effect and she relaxed at his words, though making a promise to herself to watch him closely when he inevitably got his next one. "I hope so mister" she spoke with a pointed glare his way, playfully prodding his chest with her finger, which he wasted no time in grabbing and tugging her close to him, causing her to squeal at the unexpected movement. “But can you do me a favour and help me wrap it?” she pouted up at him once the room had stilled..

A smirk grew on Eddie’s face as he, as usual, found an innuendo in everything. “Oh we’re wrapping it up now, I thought you liked it raw?” he teased, laughing as a choked sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp passed her lips as she placed her palm flat against his chest so she could push her body away from his.

“Un-fucking-believable” she scoffed turning her back to him, not that she could fool him as he had already seen the smile tugging at her lips, well that and he could see her reflection in the mirror now that she’d turned around.

Stepping forward, until his chest was pressed against her back, he slipped his arms around her middle and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, his warm breath tickling the skin as he spoke. “I’m only kidding baby,” followed by kisses up the column of her neck to just under her ear, “of course I’ll help you wrap it” he whispered against the shell of her ear before pulling away, chuckling to himself as her body tried to follow him. “Just gotta wash these dirty mechanic hands first” he spoke, repeating her earlier words back to her as he wiggled them in her face briefly and she scrunched her face up in response.

They were quiet as he washed his hands and she turned to get the wrap for her arm. Once his hands were dry, he took what he needed from her outstretched hands, his own working expertly to cut the wrap down to size and gently place it over the tender skin with ease before he secured it with a little tape so that it wouldn’t come off during the night.

“There all done” he pulled back to let her admire his handiwork and she whispered her thanks to him as her eyes remained cast down, still focused on her arm. Eddie reached out again, hands desperate to trace over the design, only this time she let him since there was no contact with her inked skin. “It really is beautiful, don't know how you managed to keep it a secret from me though” he laughed quietly, his eyes still focused on the black ink just like her.

“It was tough, I did want you there but then I didn’t want to tell people in case I chickened out last minute” she explained, a slight pout on her face as she did so.

Eddie nodded in understanding, a tattoo was a big commitment, something you had to be one hundred percent certain with considering it was on your body for the rest of your life. “Well I’m glad you didn’t, makes you look even more metal” he joked, sending a wink her way which made her laugh.

“Well that’s easy enough to do since the only thing metal about me is you” she spoke and he gasped in response.

“T’is not you are plenty metal” he argued as she shook her head which only caused him to rattle off a list of everything he believed made her the most metal person he knew. Smothering her in praise in the cramped bathroom of their shared trailer, in their own little bubble where they could be anything they wanted to as long as they had each other, something they both hoped would never change.

Eventually they moved to the couch in front of the old tv with bowls of boxed mac n cheese in their hands with the talk of future tattoos filling the space between them, which turned into future plans, which then finally turned into them falling asleep tangled with each other awkwardly on the couch in ways that would leave them aching in the morning but their hearts full in the present.

[livelaughloveloak]

★ SURE THING . . ! 🪐

previous part

⋆ pairing :: Neteyam x Navi! Reader

⋆ summary :: back in the omatikaya clan you always dreamt about sharing tsaheylu with the Olo'eyktan's oldest son. Now that you and Neteyam are both 18 will that dream finally become reality?

⋆ word count :: 1.1k words

⋆ author's note :: pt 2 of tattoo. Since the first part was based on the girl with the tattoo this part is based on Sure Thing by Miguel 🙌🙌 Honestly this is so short because I didn't know what to write

Even when the sun don't shine

"Neteyam?"

Oh how he loved hearing you say his name again.

Neteyam stood there frozen, bright yellow eyes almost popping out of his sockets. He watched you walk closer to him with your hand covering your mouth, the same expression as he had on displayed on your face.

"Oh my eywa it is you" Your hand now gently placed itself on his cheek, your eyes scanning his face. It had been one and a half years since Neteyam officially had fled the Omatikaya clan to live in the reef. He looks different but in a good way, you never thought Neteyam could get even more beautiful but fortunately you were wrong.

Neytiri watched in the background with awe, she always liked yours and Neteyam's relationship. Even as young kids she knew you guys would grow up to be closer than ever, and it turns out that her motherly instincts were right. She soon enough looked around and hissed almost as if she had venom coming out her mouth. She pointed at the lingering group watching you and Neteyam hug. "Go! What are you looking at?!"

They all scurried away to go back to their shared marui or to do something as Neytiri scooped up her youngest Tuk and signaled her other children to follow her back home.

I got faith in you and I

Your eyes stopped at a scar right at his chest. Your eyes squinted, trying to see if you were seeing things or not. You took your hand off his cheek and placed it on top of the wound. Your eyebrows furrowed before you looked up at his eyes.

"What happened?"

Neteyam held your hand and placed it down with a light chuckle.

"Oh my girl, it looks like you need to be caught up on some stuff." With that Neteyam started walking with you beside him, still holding your hand in his. It was a silent walk, a comforting silence. You enjoyed this very much because unlike here back in the forest there always seemed to be an eerie silence surrounding you. You couldn't hear Neteyam laughing or talking to you everyday, it was like living the same nightmare over and over again.

Neteyam stopped in a quiet, secluded part inside the small forest within the island.

You looked down, noticing how he was still holding your hand. You smiled.

"Neteyam I don't think I can do it"

You huffed in frustration, dropping your bow to the ground. You were out hunting with Neteyam for the first time ever. You were only 7 years old which means you were inexperienced with this sort of thing, as you were more skilled with healing so you spent your time mostly learning that.

Neteyam on the other hand started training once he learnt how to hold a bow in his own two hands.

The young male Navi gently picked up your bow that he had made for you "Stop, don't say that." Neteyam placed it into your dominant hand. His hand reached out and held the other, caressing it. "Don't give up so easily y/n it's your first time."

You looked up, staring into his eyes that were filled with honesty.

"I'll be here with you, every step at a time."

So put your pretty little hand in mine

He indeed was there with you every step at a time. Neteyam was the sweetest and skilled boy you'd ever met, and you could proudly say that other people would agree with you.

Neteyam let go of your hand and laid down on a pile of soft leaves leaning. He got comfortable then waved towards the empty space beside him, signaling for you to come and lay down as well. Being obedient to his orders, you laid down and immediately got engulfed into a tight and needed hug.

"So mind telling me the story behind the bullet wound? I mean you didn't have it when you left."

Even when we're down to the wire, babe

Even when it's do or die

Neteyam pulled back a little and looked straight into your eyes. It had already turned into night by now which made Neteyam stare in awe at your bioluminescent freckles glowing.

You soothingly traced your finger in his X shaped ribcage as your ears twitched and moved upon hearing him tell his tale about the war and how he managed to get shot trying to save a spider.

Silence filled the air once he was done with his story. Your arm had fallen on top of his chest, your eyes still staring at one another.

"You're one mighty warrior alright."

"Yeah? Am I at least your warrior?"

We could do it baby, simple and plain

"Yes Neteyam, you can if you want to be." You and Neteyam stood face to face on a small island where it was only the two of you. You and Neteyam were covered in paint, finally passing your iknayima. Neteyam placed his hands on your hips as your hands rested on his shoulders. He moved you in closer so he can have easy access to your lips. Neteyam leaned down, dangerously close.

"Will you let me?"

"Is that even a question teyam?"

With that you crashed your lips onto his, sloppingly kissing him. This was your first kiss as you were planning to save it for the perfect time, and this was beyond perfect. If you would have told you as a little kid that the son of the Olo'eyktan just asked you to be his mate, you'd pass out.

You two pulled back to catch your breath. Loud panting was heard followed along with some chuckles.

Your eyes watched as Neteyam's hand reached behind him, bringing his queue to the front of him. You copied his movements shortly after inching yours closer to his. The pink tendrils latched onto each other.

Your pupils blown in size while you felt a wave of emotion hit you, it was the bond. You and Neteyam were now officially mated for life. Life of death, even in eywa's paradise you two would love each other as your souls were now combined as one.

No words except one could describe this moment.

"Oel ngati kameie"

Cause this love is a sure thing

🏷️: @jujudsmyst @someoneisweird @mavicbuenaflor @loopyeon @gcldtom @neteyamxlover @who-is-ej @me753 @fukingsad @kurxxmi @bigdikzaddy

[wehaveimagineshere]

Request for Admin Ren! Could I request a scenario for Halsin to react to his gender neutral crush accidentally saw him shirtless? They're very apologetic & insist on making it up to him while promising to never do it again! Please make it NSFW/explicit! Please delete the first one since I forgot to put my name - eclipse anon

I didn't mean to take so long on this! I got a tattoo last week on my left hand and that put it out of commission for about 5 days, and then I didn't feel good for about 2. But it's here!

Watching Halsin's romance scenes, he's just so sweet. His "I don't want to keep you to myself, I want others to experience being with you" was just ;A;

Also Shadowheart, if you're romancing her, being like "I'd climb Mount Halsin too if given the chance." Girl. Agree.

~*~*~

The Last Light Inn was a bastion. After crawling through all manner of locations, having a place with a nice bed and a hot bath was a godsend. With Thorm gone and the curse finally lifted, you were sure the surrounding areas, once they started to heal, would just add to the comfort of the place.

Tonight would be the last night you slept in the beds here before finally heading back home to Baldur's Gate. You'd seen the last of the tiefling band off the day before, crossing off the second to last thing on your list.

The last was what you'd come here for, standing in front of Halsin's door, bottom lip between your teeth and knuckles posed to knock. With his friend back in one piece and the land finally allowed to heal...

There was nothing to keep Halsin around. He'd done what he set out to do, to help with. The thought of him taking off back to the grove...

Taking a deep breath, you push back the uncertainty and knock. The countless conversations by the fire had to have meant something. The openness and ease of being around him had to be twofold. Right?

Hearing a muffled reply, you turn the knob and enter. "Halsin, I was hoping to--"

Arms crossed, body leaned against the wall by the window, his eyes meet yours with a smile. "Welcome. I didn't expect you so late." Pressing off the wall, his arms drop. "What can I do for you?"

You barely hear him, however, as your eyes take note of the fact that the moonlight filtering through the tempered glass is hitting bare skin, highlighting the dips and planes of his chest, his abdomen, the contrasting shadows teasing the shape of the V that leads down--

Straightening, face flaming hot, you find a very interesting divot in the floor. "I didn't realize-- I must've misheard you when you answered!" Daring a peek at his face before your eyes dart away to the small nightstand, you fear you might melt onto the floor. "I'll be more careful next time! Won't happen again!" Should you leave? Should you announce that you'll leave? Would that make things more awkward?

There's a pause, an agonizing quiet that causes anxiety to climb up your throat. Finally, when you fear you're going to say something extremely stupid to break the silence, you hear him speak. "What are you talking about? I said you could come in."

Exhaling through your nose, you debate explaining and embarrassing yourself further or just saying what you came to say. You pick the latter. "Well. Halsin." Catching his gaze and pointedly keeping yours from straying, you say, "I was wondering what your plans were."

Surprise lights his eyes. "I was wondering that myself." Taking a step toward you, he adds, "I was hoping you would give me the honor of accompanying you."

Relief makes your knees weak. You're sure it shows in your face, the way Halsin's expression softens. "Thank goodness. I was wondering how I was going to strongarm you into staying."

That familiar chuckle makes your stomach flip flop. "Sorry to disappoint." His face smooths as he looks at you, eyes darting between your own before dipping down as if outlining your features. Outlining your lips.

You unconsciously wet them in response.

His adams apple dips, eyes rising back up. "There was something else I wanted to bring to your attention."

"Anything."

That smile that can, and does, make your knees weak flashes your way. "You are extraordinary." He takes another step closer. "I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers." Your heart starts pounding. "My heart does not stir lightly." He can hear it, you're sure he can. "But it does now."

"Halsin," you say quietly, half in question.

His eyes don't stray from yours. "I want more than to fight at your side, or sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine."

Your heart is going to burst out of your chest.

"I think you feel the same way."

Gods, you're going to implode.

"But tell me I'm wrong, and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more."

"Halsin," you repeat, swallowing hard. Your answer is barely above a whisper. "It can definitely be something more."

His face lights up, hands reaching out to gently touch your arms as he draws closer. "Thank you. For giving me the chance to experience you, to be at your side."

The smile tugs free, drawing your lips up to mirror his as you slide your hands behind his neck, interlacing your fingers to hide the nervous tremor. "I should be saying the same to you." You pause, building your courage to hedge, "I need to make it up to you."

His hands sit solidly upon your hip bones, his chest brushing yours. "For what?"

"For earlier. Coming in without approval."

"But I--" Brows furrow before they rise, a slow grin playing about his lips. "How do you plan to make it right?"

It was a question with many layers. Teasing, but his eyes were watching for any hesitation, any uncertainty.

He would find none.

Rising onto your tiptoes, you hover your lips just centimeters from his, nerves morphing into a fragile courage. "I have ideas."

His fingers flex, digging not ungently into your hips as he draws you even closer. "And I have many for you," he answers, voice deeper and huskier as you notice his attention shift a moment before he bridges the gap.

His kiss is tender but demanding, obvious restraint in his actions as his tongue asks for entrance, his fingers once again flexing. You comply, opening yourself to him as he languidly explores your mouth, caressing your tongue and nibbling gently on your lips.

His hands lower, finding the top of your thighs before sliding onto your behind, fingers kneading. An inhale finds yourself leaning against the wall -- curiosity of how you got there dying as quickly as sparks -- and you dare to lift your leg, hooking it around his hips and drawing him closer.

So close you can feel his arousal, the ache pressing against your own.

You swallow down the moan as he shifts, grinding against you as a hand grips your thigh around him tight to keep you in place. Another careful thrust has you hearing nothing but the blood in your ears, gasping for breath as he leaves your mouth to explore your neck. Sharp, quick bites against your skin caressed by warm licks rockets your pulse into a rhythm you fear will send you into cardiac arrest.

Somehow your fingers have ended up in his hair, gripping for dear life. When he grabs your other leg and hoists you up so your only rock is him, making you squeeze him closer to you or risk a fall, his erection rubbing in all the right places even over your clothes, you're not sure when you last took a breath.

A hand digs into your ass as another slides up and over, drawing between you two. The moment his fingers press against your aching parts is when you finally shutter out a moan.

Teasing, exploring, he prioritizes learning every touch that gets you to react, cataloguing every moan and hitch of breath. His mouth continues its journey along your chest, your shirt an irritating obstacle that you both quickly discard.

A nipple is immediately between his teeth, pressing gently but hard enough to smart, his tongue sending the pain into zings of pleasure. His hand between your legs leave just long enough to tug at your pants.

Wrestling back control of your body, you press against his shoulders. He straightens immediately, but before he can ask anything you shake your head, hand dragging down his abdomen until your fingers find their mark.

You palm him over his pants and you feel his breath hitch. Moving down then up, you watch his expression, watch as his eyes shudder and grow misty. Moving to unlatch one leg, you find instead your knee lifted in denial. Hazel eyes flare as you catch his gaze, a smile lifting his lips a moment before he crushes them against yours, a hand tossing the one against his erection aside as he instead presses hard against you, the friction of the fabric sending you both into absolute messes as grunts and groans intermingle.

It's not enough.

He lets you go just long enough to let your pants join your shirt before he hoists you up again, his cock free and pressing against your skin. With a look from him and a nod from you, he spits into a palm, pumps himself to mix the spit with his precum, and lines himself up.

He's slow, letting you adjust as he slowly sheaths himself bit by bit, your nails clawing at his shoulders and your head thrown back. By the time he's at the hilt, your legs are shaking and your hips shift, the movement sending lightning through your veins.

Another nod from you and he sets the pace.

Slow, gentle, making sure you're comfortable. Each slide in and out shredding your self control, any amount of shame as your hips demand a faster pace. Lips lock and tongues dance as you both feel that aching pressure build, his sweat making it hard to grip his skin so you fist his hair instead, his hands squeezing your ass in response.

His pace becomes erratic, sloppy, and you know he's reaching the peak. You are too, every thrust hitting that sweet spot, driving you closer and closer to that edge.

He mutters something, maybe your name, and you both come undone. Gripping you tight, he slams one last time into you as he moans, cock twitching as he fills you to the brim. You cry out as stars explode behind your eyes, tearing your body apart in the climax. All you can do is claw weakly as your body shudders.

When you fall back to earth, you're aware of his forehead pressed against your shoulder, your slick bodies pressed together in a caress. Running a hand up and down his back, you lean your own head against his.

"That was..." you find yourself trying, and failing, to articulate, breath beginning to even out.

A deep chuckle vibrates through your bones. "I know." He inhales slowly, leaning back enough to press his forehead against yours. "You are incredible."

The shy smile you respond with seems almost silly.

Wrapping his arms across your back, he steps away from the wall and toward the bed. Laying you down gently, reverently, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin revealed to him, you watch as his eyes darken once more. "We have all night."

Another invitation, another statement with questions.

Unhooking your legs from his hips, you shakily sit up, hand pushing his chest, your shy smile growing to something more sly as he allows you to press him against the bed. Letting your eyes roam over his body as you're now the one above, you watch his face as you move lower, lower. "Allow me to repay the favor," you whisper, taking his still hard cock in your hand and giving it a lick.

As he said, you have all night.

[aliea82]

Had a scene in my head, had to add context, and this is what I ended up with. Enjoy xxx

He knew he was being stupid.

That his actions at 2:38 in the morning were beyond ridiculous.

But he couldn’t help it.

‘Eddie!’ He calls as he knocks rather loudly on the front door of the house the government had gifted Eddie and his uncle after their trailer was destroyed by the rift.

He had left said house only hours before, dropping off several teens along his way home.

But nightmares had haunted his short sleep and he had to make sure, had to see that it was all lie, that Eddie hadn’t died in his arms all those months ago.

‘Eddie!’

Lights came on, and he stands back as Eddie opens the door, his wild hair even wilder, his chest bare, showing off tattoos and scars alike.

‘Bloody hell Harrington.’ He mutters, rubbing his eyes and stepping aside to let Steve in.

Stepping in, Steve let himself stare at Eddie, eyes wide as he took him in, checking his scars, making sure none had reopened, that there was no blood.

‘Hey,’ Eddie’s voice was gentle, making Steve look up. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I...I had to see.’

‘See what?’ Eddie moves through the house towards the kitchen, Steve follows, eyes still checking.

He watches Eddie open the fridge, grabbing two beers before turning back to Steve, eyes questioning.

Blinking, Steve tried to remember the question.

‘I dreamt you...you...’ the panic he had felt when he first woke washes over him again and he starts to shake, his eye going even wider as he stares at Eddie.

Eddie instantly put the beers down, moving into Steve’s space, his hands wrapping around Steve’s wrists.

‘Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m not dead, you got me out.’

Steve tries to control his breathing, to focus on Eddie’s words, on his warm hands wrapped around his wrists.

‘Your eyes...they...went out.’

‘No, look,’ Eddie’s hands move to Steve’s face, his eyes locking onto wide golden eyes.

Steve went still, his hands moving to grip the fabric of Eddie’s black plaid pyjama bottoms at his hips.

‘I’m alive, you got me out, spent hours at my bedside then even more hours helping as I healed. You saved me, remember?’

Tears fell unchecked down Steve’s face as Eddie spoke, as Eddie slowly pressed his forehead to Steve’s.

‘You saved me Sweetheart. Remember?’

Steve gasps, his arms wrapping around Eddie’s back pulling the other to him, his head burying itself against Eddie’s neck as a sob breaks free from the back of his throat.

Eddie held him, a hand going into his hair, the other across his shoulders as his face presses into the side of Steve’s head.

‘It’s okay.’

Steve cries.

He hadn’t cried in months, not since the Russians, even after everything that had happened in March.

He just hadn’t been able to.

Even as he sat at both Eddie’s and Max’s bedside, even as he was terrified he had lost them both.

But now, after one of many nightmares, he just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

So he cries, wrapped in arms he had come to trust in so many different ways.

He doesn’t know how long they stood there for, but Eddie doesn’t pull back, he keeps hold of Steve, his fingers moving softly through his hair, muttering soft words as Steve holds him tightly.

As he calms down, his breathing slowing, he finds his fingers tracing over Eddie’s bare back.

‘You died in my arms.’

‘No, you got me out.’

‘Yes but only after you died, you died, for like two minutes. Robin was taking Dustin, they didn’t know. Me and Nancy brought you back. You died Eddie, and I dream about it constantly, I fight with myself every day because I need to make sure you’re okay. Today I lost, I had to make sure, I had to see.’

His hands move back to Eddie’s hips and he pulls back to look at Eddie’s face, his eyes.

‘You died.’

‘Then in that case you brought me back,’ Eddie’s hand moves from Steve’s hair back to his face. ‘I owe you my life, Steve.’

Steve stares for a moment before leaning in.

The kiss is soft, just lips on lips lasting a second.

As he pulls back it’s to find Eddie smiling, lighting his eyes in a way Steve had never seen before and Steve couldn’t help smiling back.

[visionsofmagic]

༒ destiny ༒ odin’s sons [thor, heimdall, baldur] x reader

↷ chapter one “the first sight” | masterlist

✧ summary: visiting the place odin gave to them for bringing a goddes to the asgard, none of the brothers accepted someone like ‘you’. they wanted to accomplish the mission as soon as possible but not you who gave them a rule if they wanted you to follow them into the asgard, getting praises of their daddy.

✵ wc: 6k

✧ warnings&tags: events take place before gow 4 and ragnarok. cursing/swearing, fluff, baldur is an ass, heimdall is not that cocky (not yet) but still; heimdall is heimdall, touchy and so confident!reader, girl boss energy, using magic, original creatures, blood, violence, death, disgusting requests (by creatures), & more in the chapter! enjoy. <3

✵ notes: to what I gathered from the web, the height disturbation is like these; thor > heimdall > baldur. I hope it is correct one but there is no much differences between heimdall and baldur, so, that’s it. & I tried to make it cannon as possible but I can’t help but add some non-cannon things into the fic since it is a fanfiction, so, I hope you will like them. ^^ thanks! [comments, likes and rb appreciated!]

  “Oh, poor thing.”

Kneeling down to the level of a wolf, full of black fur around his body, you began to examine his wound on the stomach, probably because of another animal’s work which he escaped from. As your hands were standing on his wound, blood everywhere, the wolf growled in both pain and defensive ways; pain coming from its wound, and defensive because of you. He was afraid to be touched by you, not knowing your true intentions. To make it clear, you smiled to him, “Shh, I will just heal it, do not worry.” 

He looked at you for a few seconds before putting his head on the grass, taking heavy breaths. Slowly, you began to heal the wound with using magic, blue glows goes from your fingers’ tips to his wound, closing it. 

The wolf’s heavy breaths and painful moans changed into relaxed and happy ones thanks to the magic. When you finished, you smiled widely at him while cleaning the blood on his black fur with a wet cloth. “See? You are good as before!” 

The wolf howled to show he was good, finally. Then, he got up, moving his muscles to see whether the wound was gone completely or not. Turning to you, the wolf, probably old enough to acknowledge your kindness – not a wild one, allowed you to caress his head which you accepted gladly while smiling widely. “You are so cute!” 

“Oh, such a good compliment. Thank you, witch.”  

Rolling your eyes, you turned to the owner of voice, the wolf in sync. “And I was wondering when you would get tired of watching me and come out.” 

Smirking to you, he allowed for a few seconds for you to study him and his looking; different kinds of tattoos all over his body from neck to abdomen, traveling around the arms and hands, even fingers. His woad-blue tattoos of Norse runes looked good on him, you could tell from this away. You wondered if he had tattoos on invisible parts of his body, covered with clothes. He looked like the weather of any realms would not be a matter for him, not even the mystic weather of Vanaheim, the realm you were in at the moment. He was a God, clearly, looking all mischievous and egoistic. From the way he introduced himself, opening his arms widely towards you, with a smirk on his bearded face with marbles on his beard. He would look better if he hadn’t that irritating smirk on his face, looking so – bossy. His brown beard completed with his brown hair. His blue eyes were distinctive that had unmanageable sparkles, making you want to look another way. 

The wolf stood in front of you when the unknown God took a few steps towards your sitting position. As the wolf began to growl, you stopped him by caressing his head, calming him down and feeling happy to see that you gained his trust by simple healing his wound. Animals were so innocent for these realms, truly. 

“It’s okay,” He looked at you, calming down. “Let’s allow man introduce himself first.” 

Looking back at the God, you nodded for him to continue. He chuckled, “Baldur.” It was enough to introduce himself in his mind, and he was right, indeed, it was enough because how could you not know son of Odin, his best tracker as they said, Baldur. 

Being the untouchable God, he sure had gut and confidence at a high level which made you want to roll your eyes at his attitude, not feeling any fear or something like that. No, there was no man or woman that would give you fear, including Odin’s allies, the All-Father everyone was afraid of. 

“To what do I owe this visit, son of Odin?” 

He shrugged, “I do not know it either, witch.” He seemed angry for a moment, “Even though All-Father knew very well I dislike any witch, he sent me to take you the Asgard. It seems you are – special?” It was like a question he was asking to himself, disbelief of the ongoing events caused by Odin. Knowing the All-Father from your previous years, you knew he sent him to a mission in which he had to bring you to the Asgard. 

Smiling gently, you said, “Then, he sent you for nothing. I will not go to the Asgard.” Turning to the wolf that was licking your palm cutely, you added, “Therefore, it’s better for you to leave. Glad to meet.” 

Leaves’, that crashed under Baldur’s heavy steps, sounds came to your ears. Then, he stopped behind you, kneeling to the same level as you and making you to look into his blue eyes. Now, he looked demanding about the mission he had at the moment. However, there was something unfamiliar in those eyes – something you could not put a name on – maybe, he was interested in you? 

“You didn’t introduce yourself, so, I can not say ‘glad to meet too’ now, can I?” 

What a jerk. You chuckled, “Didn’t your precious father tell you about me, hm?” 

You were smart, he could give that and you knew he was more interested now thanks to your answer, not giving him any knowledge about you but he was determined. So, he looked at the wolf in your arms, looking back at him with threatening black eyes. The wolf looked like he knew you for ages. 

Then, you smiled to calm the air down, “Wanna pet him?” You asked and Baldur looked surprised for a while, then, he smirked. Straighten his posture, he shrugged, looking like he was drunk – and sounding like he was high.  

“Why would I want to pet – it?” 

Rolling your eyes, you stood up finally, giving the wolf last petting on the head, whispering his ear that he should go your home, using the magic to help him track your hidden house in the woods. He began to run, happy to be with you after you finished here. 

Turning to Baldur, you looked at his smirking face. He was irritating. 

While you were fixing the brownish cloak you had, cleaning dirt on it, you shrugged, looking confident of yourself clearly to make Baldur acknowledge that you would not go to there, not today at least. You had no intention to see Odin’s irritating face and from the look his son had on his face, they wanted you badly – not a good sign considering Odin. “I don’t know what made you think that I would come with you, but, to clear your mind, I want to say that I have no intentions to visit Asgard anytime soon.” Finally, giving him your nod, you said, friendly – not wanting to create a trouble for today. “Y/n, my name.” 

He looked you from head to toe without any shame, studying you. “I do not who you are miss but you had to be someone – important, so, you definitely will come with me – well,” He rolled his eyes at the sounds of men’s steps around you, “Us.” 

Turning to your behind, you saw two other Gods surrounded your environment. What a painful day you were having – so troublesome. 

You looked at them as Baldur’s head went out of behind, standing on your right, close to your shoulder but you didn’t move an inch, not wanting him to understand how you wanted to get out of this situation you were in without your control. He meant harm but not yet, so, you decided to be friendly. 

Baldur smirked as he pointed out the bigger man among them to you with his forefinger, “Thor, the God of Thunder, as you probably know thanks to – well, his deadly works.” The God – Thor looked so taller and bigger than you could imagine. He hadn’t any tangible cloth on his upper body except his armors on the shoulder and arms. His famous hammer was resting on his belt, looking cute from this far but you knew how many blood that hammer had on its surface. His orange and red mixed colored hair and beard was something unique to him, messy but still looking glamorous. He had tattoos on his body and blue eyes like Baldur had. They looked similar even if it was just a little. 

You knew very well Thor was bad news, worse than his brothers and sons – unlike Baldur who was the God of Light and Peace – yes, it was funny that he had these titles which were contrary to his own actions, Thor was the God of Thunder. People tend to call him as chaos bringer since the places he visited had faced with death’s itself by the hand of Thor – one of the most powerful sons of Odin as they described. 

Baldur’s breath touched your ear, giving you tickles, as he spoke again, “The other not-so-handsome one is Heimdall. Actually he only has one job, carrying that Gjallarhorn but All-Father insisted to bring him too.” 

Heimdall, the most loyal son of Odin who looked like he was having one of the worst days of his entire life with an annoying expression on his face, was the bearer of the Gjallarhorn, the mighty horn Heimdall will use to start Ragnarok – ending of the all realms. He sure had his unique features; golden hair that braided beautifully, glowing purple eyes – shinier than normal Aesir people who had Bifrost’ power in them thanks to Odin’s blessing, and cleaner armor than his half-brothers. He probably was taller than Baldur who stayed on your behind, so closely, and smaller than Thor who was standing like a stone beside Heimdall. 

Except Baldur and Heimdall who weren’t afraid of showing their own intentions and thoughts through their faces’ expressions, Thor was unreadable. He had no particular expression on his face except a little tiredness. He indeed was a man of action, not talking, unlike Baldur who took a step forward, standing in beside you while others stayed still.  

“Y/n, right?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, you see, All-Father not sent only me but my brothers as well which is,” He waved his fingers on the air, “One-thousandth event that happens. From this, I can tell you really had to come with us, but,” 

He smirked while Heimdall’s low voice heard from away that took your attention, “At least he can use his brain.” 

Thor’s deep voice heard after that, “Like even you had one.” 

Then, when Heimdall turned to say more to his half-brother, Baldur’s body stood in front of you, blocking your vision. He had more sparkles on his blue eyes. “I am not a patient one like my father. If you insist about not coming, I have to either take you with force or,” His smirk grew, “Kill you.” He winked, “Choice is up to you, miss.” 

While you were looking at him, Thor’s massive body which was built so strong, stood beside Baldur, looking down at his face. “All-Father said no killing, no hurting.” 

Heimdall took Baldur’s other side, making him look smaller between their bigger bodies. They would even look cute if they were good guys, not sons who listens their daddy without thinking twice. 

“When you begin to listen him anyway?” Heimdall asked, looking up to Thor’s face, unreadable still. 

They clearly didn’t get along that well. How you could blame though? – You asked to yourself; three powerful Gods, probably already broken because of being Odin’s – the most manipulative and cruel father out there, sons. They seemed to obey every command their father give with particular shagginess. If Odin sent them here like they claimed, he sure wanted you so – so badly and that made you happier since you were not going to there. Odin would only face his sons’ face, disappointed. 

Maybe you would go there secretly only to see that.

While they were arguing about something, you said, putting on the hood of your cloak, “I thought the Aesir Gods and Goddess, especially sons of Odin, had some stance enough to not to use any force, but, what a surprising era we are living in, don’t you think?” It was a question for Baldur but you didn’t need any response from any of them because the surprised look on their attractive and lovely faces – you had to give them that, was enough. Clearly, they didn’t except you to be that – confident and full of yourself. 

Then, with a wink to Baldur, you said, “And I am afraid there is no way you can kill me either. So, out of any options, you can give me – nothing.” Turning away from them, you waved a goodbye. “Glad to meet you. Have a good day.” – Oh they definitely weren’t having a good day – at all, and this made your day better. You could not tease one but three sons of Odin in one day after all. 

“Woman.“ Thor’s deep and dangerous voice gave you chills, making you stop walking into the forest just to go home. “All-Father has a request.” 

“Which I do not care about,” You said finally. Yes, indeed these men took your attention with their different and unique features – also, personalities. However, even they could not make you go whatever you didn’t want. “Look,” you said, turning to them, hands on the chest in a defensive manner. “Turning to daddy with an empty hand will do no good but it is dumb to think that I will follow three strangers into there.” 

“Strangers?” Heimdall asked, disbelief in his voice. All three of them had different type of speaking and voices but each of them was – special. “How could you not know the God of Foresight – the one who is Herald of the Ragnarok?” He was the most egoistic one – not so surprising. However, it was both annoying and – attractive. 

Smiling, you shrugged, “Titles means nothing. I had to know – you to know you.” 

Thor looked confused while Baldur smirked, “I told ya that she has a way with words.” 

Heimdall rolled his eyes, “Not impressed.” 

Indeed, he was impressed. You could tell that from the way his body moved; his glowing eyes on you – the most magical thing you witnessed in all realms, he took a few steps towards you, starting a new conversation, “Who are you?” He asked and now, you were the confused one. 

“What?” You looked each of them from left to right, slowly. When you saw their faces, you began to chuckle, “You say Odin sent you – for me but he didn’t tell you who I am?” Putting a finger on your chin, you said in a low tone, mostly to yourself, “Interesting.” What Odin was thinking about? What were his true intentions on this mission – bring you to his wings or another thing? He sure had goals about taking benefits from you but what were they – you wondered because the last time you used your real powers was long ago. He couldn’t remember you entirely – could he? 

“So?” Heimdall said again, “I can’t wait for another hour in this realm. My armor gets dirty.” 

“Don’t worry, daddy will get you a new one you brat.” Baldur mocked Heimdall, having real fun while teasing his half-brother. It was clear that Baldur’s relationship with Heimdall was different than the one he had with Thor who started talking when Heimdall was about to say another annoying comment. 

“It’s enough.” Thor looked bossy once again. Looking at you, he walked ‘till he reached you, leaving a certain gap between your opposite bodies. You had to look up to so him more. “Heimdall give her the letter.” 

Heimdall looked annoyed, saying, “Don’t give me order. I am not Baldur.” 

“Should be this an insult?” He sure was having his fun. 

Heimdall then gave you the letter, making your fingers touch each other in a closer way than before. The touch gave you jolt in an unexpected way. What was this? – It wasn’t anything like you had with other men who touched you with a simple reason like buying something from you or simply, greeting. It was different than that but you couldn’t think any further about it since they were waiting for you to open the letter, reading it and taking a decision. 

Possibly, even they didn’t know what was written in the letter, so, you opened it while covering words from their eyes. 

Dear L/N, I hope my sons do not give you any hard time since they are given a request from me; bringing you to here, a realm which you will face kindness and peace. 

Let’s have a chat in here. So, listen my sons, they will help you to come here. 

Waiting for your arrival soon. 

After finishing reading, the letter burned suddenly. Odin who even didn’t write his own name on the letter didn’t want you to hold it. He didn’t want anyone have something from him, possibly, because he had so many enemies and you could be one of them even if he was trying to see you as a new ally. 

Looking back to his sons, you studied their expressions. Except Heimdall, they looked calm and a little curious. Baldur’s focus was on you, and Thor looked like he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Vanaheim was a realm Odin could not enter, so, they had enemies in here. After Freya’s sad fate, Vanaheim felt betray coming from Aesir people and Odin’s himself. Therefore, Aesir people weren’t welcome in here – understandable. You weren’t a Vanir. You just found a safe home in here and you knew very well if you would not allow them to bring you into the Asgard, they would find your home – hidden in the woods after tracking you down, mostly Baldur. 

Sighing, you looked at them one by one and when you were about to say something, you saw how Heimdall looked so – shocked; a confused face, furrowing, looking both surprised and angry about something you didn’t know yet. When he caught your gazes on him, he made an angry sound, turning from your face to Baldur who was smirking. “Well,” He said, closing the gap between your bodies – a bold and confident one as hell. “What is your choice? Do not think that my brothers will not use any physical support to complete mission.” 

“Fighting is not my style,” Heimdall said, annoyed more than ever. “I outnumber them, unlike your wild acts Baldur.” 

Baldur rolled his eyes, not paying attention to Heimdall who was still angry but not showing any of it towards you but you knew something wasn’t right in his mind about you. 

Baldur stood in front of you once again, hands on his waist, looking at you to get an answer. 

Sighing, you nodded in defeat. They wouldn’t let you leave their sides if you said ‘no, they were too loyal to Odin for that to happen. Indeed, you were powerful but not dumb – trying to fight with all three sons of Odin who had great power; an invulnerable one, master of foresight, and meaning of strength, no, you couldn’t win a fight including three of them. Therefore, you said to them, “I will but,” You raised a forefinger to Baldur’s face, making him look at your finger to your face and he was – impressed? Clearly, no man or woman was this bold in his life. “I have one rule.” 

“Who do you think you are to give me a rule?” Heimdall scoffed, ready to give another roll of eyes.

You shrugged, “I am Y/n,” coming to his side you smiled, raising a hand on the air to greet him properly. He was only a naughty boy of his daddy who needed meet with someone other than Aesir people. “Heimdall, right?” 

He looked at your hand to get the gesture, then, finally – he took your hand on his, greeting you like the way he had taught – gentle. It was a funny tickle on your hand which you could not avoid because even though you wanted to deny it, it was clear that you had an interest on him. A knowledge Vanir Goddess told you about Heimdall, the most loyal one to All-Father, had a gift of reading minds and intentions of others. You wondered if he was reading your mind right now but even he was reading it, you couldn’t hide that you were curios about him when the Goddess gave you information about him. You imagined his purple glowing eyes and from this close, you already realized how he could take people under control with only his lovely eyes. 

Leaving his hand, you went for Thor next, giving him your smaller hand which he looked for a moment but didn’t greet. He was closed than others. He wasn’t talkative and open to strangers, you could see that but you wanted to give an expression that Heimdall didn’t take your focus. You could not trust them, not yet at least. 

“Nice to meet you too, Thor. I am Y/n, again.” 

“Cut the friendly attitude woman,” Thor said, sounding calm, not that hostile contrary to what he said. “Even if I do not like him,” He was referring to Heimdall behind you whose piercing gazes were on your face, studying you shamelessly. Neither Baldur nor Heimdall had any shame. They were bold ones. Thor continued, “You can’t give us any rule. We are not child.” 

“I didn’t say you were but if you want to be appreciated by your precious daddy, you have to bring me back with you. So, I give you a chance to do that.” You shrugged, still fearless. You turned to Baldur, smirking, “Choice is up to you, mister.”  

Baldur shrugged, looking not interested in the boring conversation. He just looked at his half-brothers, gathering their answers from the expressions. However, their faces were straight that you decided to start walking outside the wild forest of Vanaheim; beauty in the wildness, the realm always impressed you. You wished Odin never existed, bringing sorrow to realms. 

“So about my rule,” You said after a while, hearing their steps’ heavy sounds behind you. They were following you like three puppies. Chuckling inside your head, you wondered how Heimdall didn’t say a thing about the way you were thinking. Maybe he wasn’t reading your simple mind at all at the moment. “I can’t know whether you will prison me in the Asgard or not –“ 

“We would do it until now.” Baldur interrupted your speech, making you chuckle and looking behind for a moment to see his cocky face. 

“You could try.” Then, you continued to speak about the rule. “Anyway, if you want to make me come, you should wait ‘till I accomplish mine.” 

“Yours?” It was surprisingly Thor, asking this. “What’s your mission? Do you serve any God?” 

You shook your head in a negative way, “No. I bow to no one, including Odin. My mission is for the sakes of innocent people who need help.” 

“You want me to help lower lives? Do you think that my time is insignificant to do that? I am protector of the Asgard –“ 

“Blah blah blah,” Baldur said, mocking Heimdall, “Just go back to your daddy and leave it us.” He pointed at himself and Thor who was looking bothered from their half-brothers’ endless teasing. 

“You?” Heimdall laughed, “To make it clear, if All-Father thought you two would be enough, he wouldn’t insist me to come with you. Apperantely, you need me.” 

You wanted to say it was same either way; Baldur and Thor needed Heimdall and he needed them but you kept silent, not wanting to take any hostile behavior from them. You liked them. They looked – innocent. Not too innocent but not menace. 

“Talking talking talking. It’s all you got brat.” Baldur took a few steps. 

“And what you have except a mindless brain you dummy.” Heimdall returned his steps with his. They were close, dangerously. 

While they were talking nonsense, just to tease each other, Thor happened to be beside you, standing so tall and like a stone, covering your smaller physic with his massive one. Unreadable sparkles were on his blue eyes, looking so good with his red-orange colored hair and beard. Gifts, abilities and titles were not only things Odin gave them. They all had attractiveness uniquely, you had to accept. 

“What’s your mission?” He asked, sounding not interested but wanting to know. 

“Every realm has a magnificent magical stone – each one in all realms, contains imprisoned souls on them who need my help to reach their peace. I promised myself to do that. Now, I have an opportunity;” You showed them, “Three favorite Gods of Odin who can enter any realm they want.” It was true, you wanted to travel across realms to get free these souls but also, you needed something for your own as an addition which you would keep as a secret ‘till they gain your trusts, one by one, seeming impossible though. At least, it was impossible for now. Unlike Vanir people, you had no hostile feeling for Aesir people, especially them, but you were smart enough to not be their ally so soon. “I will come with you but in return, I have a rule; you should help me to visit the realms.” 

Lookin up, you saw how Thor was having a hard time to think about your offer. His face was confused for a while before turning a determined one. 

“It’s enough!” Thor’s deep and dominant voice heard through the forest, taking Baldur’s and Heimdall’s attention back to you. You could say that Thor’s power on them was high even if they would deny it – Baldur clearly had respect for him and you were impressed. You would tell Thor that if he wasn’t a bad God like people said. “It’s decided. We are going with her, then, she will come with us.” 

Heimdall didn’t like the idea of it in a bit but he kept his silence rather than speaking harshly like you expected. What he talked with Baldur back there – you were curious but your attention changed from Heimdall to Baldur who stood, once again, in front of you with his smirk. “About time to have some fun.” 

Rolling your eyes, you gestured for them to follow you. “First, we need to do one more thing,” You turned to Heimdall, catching him looking at you intensely and when he saw you looking, he turned to other side immediately. Was he blushing? – Oh, what a cute boy he was, not like that Vanir Goddess spoke. To make him feel ease, you added, “Don’t worry, it will not take long.” 

Here you were; standing at the tip of a hill that happened to be taken from a mortal man who had a wife and little son by a group of predatory; the group didn’t hesitate to kill the man, take his wife for their own disgusting objects, and after that, killing her too, including the little boy – a disaster told by another mortal man who saw the event from away, running like his life depended on it, coming to your side to seek justice. 

There were some belongings of the group; little chairs to sit on, swords blunt but enough to kill mortals, half-eaten food, a foul stench, and dirty clothes. There were also bloods of animals which were their food. 

As you were standing there, Odin’s sons behind you, minding their own business but losing patient, the leader of the group who had different color of cloak screamed, his crew standing behind, disgusting looks on their faces. They weren’t mortal. They were some creatures looked like humans. However, you knew them very well; wildness filled their heart, no empathy, no guilt. They only wanted see pain of mortals – kill them and get their benefits from them. They made your stomach crumble in pure disgust. They needed to be punished. 

“Hey!” The leader screamed, “What the hell you think you are doing?” 

Removing the cloak’s hood, revealing your face to them, you left one of their blades on ground. You could see how Thor and Baldur were ready to fight from right and left sides of you while Heimdall was sitting on a stone, looking at the group, showing how he felt same about them as you did – disgusting creatures. 

With glowing new weapons from red to blue – mixed with magic they found in the realm, the group had enough courage to attack you anytime they wanted. It was a fact that they killed some Vanir people who could use magic for these weapons. They could not afford it, material and spiritual. They were not worthy. 

Taking a few steps forward, you asked to twelve men, avoiding their leader’s gaze who gave command to these mindless creatures. Even if they looked like mortals from outside, only their leader had a brain as functional and indeed, he choose it to be a support for his sins – killing innocent without thinking twice. So, they were the leader’s mindless tools. They just had instincts to survive, nothing more. Knowing this, you said, “I give you 10 seconds to leave. I will not punish those who choose to live.” 

From corner of your eyes, you could see Heimdall’s and Baldur’s gazes, looking at you. Thor didn’t move an inch but you knew he was listening and watching you carefully too. 

The leader laughed, and the group followed it – still mindless. 

“I didn’t know the man had a beautiful daughter like you. Only if I knew –“ The leader’s eyes traveled from head to toe of your body, judging it from the cloak you were wearing. “Ohh, how I could use that body of your after a good killing.” He laughed manically, “But don’t worry, I will do it now! Right?!” He turned to the group, “And you will have a taste too my brothers!” 

Their disgusting gazes began to travel on your body and you could feel how Baldur took a defensive manner as well as Thor who was ready to throw his hammer to them as soon as you finished. 

To prevent it, you touched Thor’s left arm, gently but he jumped a bit in surprise while his half-brothers were watching your interaction, possibly shocked about how easily you touched Thor – closely, without any fear. 

“It’s something I should do.” You smiled, “But thanks.” 

The leader’s face was confused, “Who do you talking to you bitch? Are you fucking out of your mind, huh?” 

Thor could never be more surprised, including others, freezing for a moment before Heimdall asked, “What is he talking about?” 

You waved your hand on the air, “I will tell later,” Then, you knotted the cloak's cord, causing it to fall slowly to the ground, showing off a black body clinging top with windows showing the sleeves and part of the chest, clinging black trousers, feathered boots in the same color and a warm jacket on your upper body. All black and red colors of them mixed with little brownish, holding you warm and well. “Now, I have to deal with them.” 

The leader and his group’s eyes began to shine in lust, making you want to vomit, but thinking about what they would face now, it looked funny. 

As their gazes were giving you ache in the stomach, other three Gods’ gazes who were around you were enough to make you feel hotness. You could sense their eyes upon you, traveling from head to toe as they acknowledge this look on you; how clothes were covering your body, giving some hints what was lying beneath. 

Turning back to the group, you smiled; ready to strike first attack as your hands began to move on the air, using magic to create two useful blades that appeared on the air and fell into your palms. “So, you wanted to play with magic?” You asked, slowly but dangerously walking towards them, leaving black mixed red colors on the ground you were walking on which were vanished after a few seconds only to be replaced by others. “I will show you what the real magic is.” 

And then, all of it started and you couldn’t tell which one of them screaming louder since your blades were passing through their mortal bodies, cutting them into lots of pieces, not leaving anytime for them to understand where attacks were coming from. They only saw you flying on the air, jumping into the middle with a hard pump sound – breaking the ground slightly. Then, it was all blades’ sounds and their own blood within the screams. 

Thanks to your ability's on speed, it took you only 10 seconds to kill them all, except their leader who was damaged heavy, losing his legs and one arm.

Standing in the middle of the group, now lying on the ground with slices of their bodies, so much blood and death flowing from them into the place, you looked back at the leader, crawling towards the useless blades he had on the camp as they called. 

As one of the blades vanished, you held the remaining one on your right hand. It began to glow in red from tip to the end while you were walking slowly to him. With each step you took, the leader’s effort to reach the blades grew bigger but he wasn’t fast enough. When his one hand tried to take the nearest weapon, your strong left foot found its place on his hand’s back, pushing it into the ground more and gaining another scream from him, coming like a melody to your ears, feeling some comfort to see his pain which he gave to that innocent family. 

“Look at me!” Poison were flowing within your voice, alerting Gods around you who were silent, and watching you completely. As he looked up to your face with his blood covered one, you put the edge of the sword on his neck. 

Man’s fear strengthened its effect when he saw your eyes as the innocent family’s each pain began to flow into his mere soul and heart, if he even had one, and bodies, making him feel a sudden shock because of facing a great pain at once. When his body was about to die on its own due to not being able to take all these pain, you started to count in your mind, and when he was the edge of dying, you moved your hand, cutting his head off with a single movement. 

As the bloods were pouring on the blade, you looked at the mess you made. Spelling a magic, they were all gone in a moment, leaving the soul of the mortal man appearing from a bottle. Apparently, the leader knew more magic than you thought, prisoning the man’s soul in a bottle which had a rune on it. 

“I don’t’ know who you are,” The man spoke, sounding like he finally found some relief. “But thank you! With seeing this, I can finally feel some comfort. They slaughtered us like we didn’t mean anything – like we were animals. My wife, my son –“  

He couldn’t finish his sentence, beginning to cry. You wished to give him more than this but you couldn’t. 

“I hope you will find much more where you will go, with your family beside.” 

He nodded, cleaning his tears away from his weary face. “I'm grateful. Have a good life my child.” 

Then, he vanished, reaching his freedom and hopely, his family once he lost on here. 

Sighing, you said, “Now, we can go.” 

They all stayed silent for a while before Heimdall’s nod, saying, “Hugin!” 

After his call, ravens started to fly around four of you, and you asked Heimdall gently while your bodies were close to each other than others, “Svartalfheim, please?” 

He rolled his eyes when you smiled, arms crossed over his chest, “As if I am your caretaker.” He was annoyed and he really looked cute like that. 

Baldur chuckled, “But you could make a good maid.” 

When Heimdall looked irritated by it, Baldur chuckled more and even Thor had a little nasty smile on his face. 

You were going to have your own fun, definitely! 

to be continued. 🍰

taglist it open! if you wanna get into it (special for this one) you can write as comment or message, thanks. <3