AUTHOR'S NOTES; Heyyyyyy. I'm back!
Consider this the second part of a slightly delayed double update. The last few chapters of this fic were unusually difficult to write because of time line crap so it took extra time, but we should be going smoothly now. I'll be updating ASW next, and hopefully it goes quickly, although I think I need to rework chapter 1 of that fic as well.
Anyway!
There are officially 8 parts to this series, so if you enjoy reading this soul's journey through the cycle of reincarnation across the multiverse, maybe check them out? Though, all fics can be read independently too!
As always, thank you guys for showing your love for my work. I hope yall enjoy and leave your thoughts down below!
Discord!
https://discord.gg/XhqUDAnbsH
XXXXXXXXXX
Logan grins ferally, cracking his knuckles as thin blades begin to slide out of them, but Bucky merely narrows his eyes and casually rolls his shoulders. In response, I summon a pile of weapons at my feet. It all came from the cashe I acquired a while ago from Deadpool so that Bucky would have everything he needs should he decide to go back to fighting at some point, although I hadn't expected him to use them so soon. While I had made sure to get plenty of deadly, explosive shit, the pile I summon is stuff made for sparring and relatively non-lethal, including some guns, blades, and rubber bullets.
I rub my eyes roughly, a manifestation of stress rather than irritation. "All right, ground rules. Any injury that would severely incapacitate you in real life will be considered a win. So, only a headshot, or spine shot, I guess, will constitute a win for Bucky on Logan. A blow that would decapitate Logan also works. Logan's win conditions are a bit different since Bucky's far more squishy." Bucky tries to protest, but I steam roll right over him. "Storm will act as an impartial referee and will decide if any blows that Logan lands constitute incapacitation on Bucky's part. For example, if Logan swipes at Bucky's throat, she'd decide if it'd be a win in a real fight or if Logan has landed enough cumulative hits to put Bucky down."
The two fighters nod, albeit with some reluctance at having rules, their eyes locked on one another as each slowly warms up, clearly trying to intimidate one another, like peacocks showing off deadly feathers. It made me kind of wanna laugh. "I'll put up some magic protections to minimize damage, so you guys don't need to worry about holding back as much. Understood?"
"Understood," both military men respond sharply as the rest of us circle up, excited chatter coming from some of the kids sneaking out to watch.
"… This feels like a bad idea," I mutter to Loki who wheels the professor over to stand by us.
"That sounds like your over protectiveness and anxiety," Loki replies.
"Or it could just be my common sense," I fire back under my breath, watching Bucky stash an absurd number of weapons on himself, already 3 guns, 10 knives, and several clips in, leaving me wondering how the fuck he's hiding so much without a pocket dimension.
"I'll be able to tell if he falls into a traumatic or dissociative state," the professor assures me, patting my arm.
"Bucky? You good with the professor stepping in if he has to?" I ask after a moment of consideration.
Bucky huffs. "Yes, for the thousandth time, if you trust him, then I do too. Besides, it's unlikely he could make anything worse up here," he snarks, patting his forehead with a finger.
"Are you both ready?" Ororo calls, taking up her position as a referee as soon as I've finished casting my spells. When both men nod, she brings her arm down in an arc, darting back out of the way. "Begin!"
The following fight is nothing short of brutal. Logan is a feral fighter, skilled for sure, but he's all instinct and aggression. Bucky, however, is ice cold calculation, face blank enough to make me wince.
"… I don't like any of this, for the record," I announce, griping Loki's arm tightly as adamantium claws scrape ominously against Bucky's Uru arm. In retaliation, Bucky swipes Logan's legs out from beneath him, but Logan merely flips backwards using the momentum in a perfect hand spring and nearly clipping Bucky's jaw with his foot on the way.
"You worry too much. They are fine," Loki insists. "Our James is a strong man."
I scowl, pinching Loki's inner elbow lightly as Bucky fires his rubber bullets repeatedly only for Logan to block only the headshots with his claws, completely unconcerned with the other shots. The two men dance around one another as Logan tries to close the distance, and Bucky does the opposite in order to capitalize on his range weapons. "I know that! But he is still injured in mind and soul!"
Bucky swears loudly, composure breaking for the first time when he mistakenly punches Logan with his flesh hand, the mutant's adamantium skeleton making it worse than punching a wall, and quickly dodges back from Logan's retaliatory swipe, but he only manages to evade because Logan is laughing too hard to be efficient. Loki snickers as well and drags me under his arm, leaning against me. "How does he feel to you?"
I pause, reaching for his aura as Bucky unloads a clip at Logan, but not managing to shoot any into the mutants's head and therefore only really pissing Wolverine off with the pain of the point blank rubber bullets. So, Logan slashes his shoulder, leaving bloody gashes. Yet, Bucky's aura seems to only lighten. "…He… I think he might actually be enjoying himself."
Loki smirks triumphantly and I sigh, but give in, smiling a bit myself when Bucky takes a light slash to the stomach in order to flip Logan to the ground and finally land a shot in his head.
"We got a winner!" Storm bellows to the cheers of the audience.
Logan growls as Bucky holds a hand out to him, but he takes it. "I was going easy on ya, Bub."
"Sure ya were," Bucky drawls, his Brooklyn accent thicker than I've ever heard it. Logan cusses him out even as Bucky returns to our side, smiling softly.
I reach out a hand to him and he takes it easily, letting me squeeze it as I squint up at the blurry image of his face. "You think you'll be okay here even though you won?"
Bucky remains quiet for a while, contemplating before he relaxes. "Yeah. At the very least, without holding back and using your protective spells, I think Logan can hold me off long enough for the rest."
"And there are the others who, frankly, could handle your ass without a second thought," Logan drawls. "I'm the hardest to keep down, but definitely not the strangest. There ain't much you could do against Jean, Ororo, or X."
Bucky narrows his eyes in offended denial, but I interrupt him. "Yeah, sorry Bucky, I'm with Logan on this. Unless you take them off guard, there isn't anything you can do about psychic powers."
"But I could take them off guard," Bucky points out almost stubbornly. "I'm literally Earth's oldest assassin."
"I can't tell if you're arguing because you're worried about their safety or if it's just because your ego is insulted," I say, bemused.
"I assure you, Mr. Barnes, we are more than equipped to protect you, even from yourself. We won't allow you to come to harm amongst us or bring harm to others, and we will do our best to remove the brainwashing," the professor speaks up as he rolls to a stop next to us.
Bucky remains silent for a while before nodding. "Okay. Let's do it."
I grin and gently corral Bucky into a hug that he easily accepts, his chin resting on my head, rocking us side to side before I release him. I hand him one of my warning bracelets and tell him to call me whenever and that if I didn't hear from him every other day, I'd come knocking down his door. Bucky sighs, long suffering, ignoring the snickers from the X-Men, and reaches out to pinch one of my cheeks. "Yes, mom."
Oh, it's like that? Okay. I raise an eyebrow before I beam at him, calling out to him even as Loki makes a portal and begins dragging me through it. "Don't forget to brush your teeth before bed. And I better not find any dirt behind your ears or in your nails when I come check! Oh! And listen to the professor, darling. And no fighting-"
Loki shoves me through the portal, taking pity on a spluttering Bucky, the cackling X-Men ribbing the fuck out of him. The last thing I see before the portal closes is another brawl between Bucky and Logan breaking out, laughter in the air.
XXXXXXXXXX
"Hey," I call out cheerfully, walking through the open door to the rundown home of one merc with a mouth and his blind old woman.
"Novahna!" Wade says perking up from where he is propped up against his roommate. Blind Al whips out her gun, pointing too far to the right of me, but I appreciated that she pulled on me anyway. "Relax, that's my alien friend, Al."
"Since when do you know an alien, motherfucker?" Al asks, even as Wade helps her aim her gun at me properly, useless when I promptly drop into the nearby arm chair.
"Oh, it's been a few months. What are you doing here, by the way?"
"Hm? Oh, the x-men snitched on you," I reply, bemused when Blind Al adjusts her gun again, now aiming correctly at me once more. "They said you were acting bonkers on the freeway."
"Yeah, Colossus was being a bitch. He got in the way of me hunting down Francois," Wade says pleasantly, even though I can feel his fury bubbling up under his skin.
"Dick move," I agree. I was very selective about who should be killed, often preferring to leave people alive if it was an option. Life was sacred, and I know that better than anyone else, but I also understood that some people should just get wiped out. Hell, even the gods understood this. So while I could see both sides of the argument, I was honestly with Wade on this one.
"I know right? Oh, but I did meet Negasonic Teenage Warhead!"
I hum. "She's a good girl. Names Ellie. Short for Eloise."
"No the fuck it isn't," Deadpool demands, sitting up with glee and near,y sending Al toppling.
"I swear, it's really Eloise," I disagree, smirking as I imagine Negosonic's reaction to Deadpool calling her by her goddamn government name.
"Oh my god, that's amazing. Ellie, I can kinda see, but fucking Eloise?!" Wade kicks his feet and howls while Al just cracks another beer and shoves him to the floor, his head cracking on the side of the coffee table.
I wrinkle my nose as Wade waves around his baby hand, the thing making my skin crawl again even as I feel the cells rapidly multiplying to restore the limb through my magic.
"Anyway, I just came by to tell you to call me for the final battle," I tell the mercenary as I get to my feet, wanting to get out of range of the freaky baby hand so I can stop sensing the nightmare fuel.
"Oh yeah? Cool. Now if you'll excuse me, I need some alone time. I bet it feels huge in this hand," Wade coos, wiggling the tiny fingers. I gag, take pity on Al and help her escape before getting the fuck out of there.
I really, really couldn't afford to let Wade and Loki meet.
Ever.
No one world would survive the chaos. What if Loki starts making crude sex jokes, too? He was bad enough with his subtle innuendos and endless flirting. Just last week he flirted with the protector of the New York Sanctum until Master Daniel Drumm forgave us for blowing up half the training hall. Admittedly, he probably only forgave us to get the hell away from Loki's persistence, but still.
Unfortunately, for me and the rest of this universe, my resolution to keep Loki and Wade apart is immediately foiled.
XXXXXXXXXX
I stare Odin down with a saccharine smile, Thor and Loki shuffling uncomfortably next to us. " I neglect to see the issue, All-Father. The Vanir Seiðr have properly submitted their request and filed all the necessary paperwork. On what grounds do you refuse to allow them further exploration across the galaxy?"
Odin was beginning to lose his patience, much to my delight. "I am the All-Father. I need no further basis to decline their request."
I smile saccharinely, stroking the back of Loki's hand where it's now restlessly gripping my thigh under the table, the rising worry and fear in his aura clear as the hours wanes with Odin continuing to be an asshole. Princess Freya had asked me to do my diplomatic duty, and negotiate on behalf of Vanaheim in regards to this matter. Apparently, Odin has been rebuffing the requests of the Vanir mages, the Seiðr, to go on an expedition outside the nine realms for literal years now.
"Yes, indeed you are the All-Father, ruler of the Nine Realms," I agree sweetly. "But according to section 5, subsection 8 of the treaty between Vanaheim and Asgard, you must provide a valid reason for all travel bans. Subsection 1 also provides that if a valid reason isn't given, a violation of the treaty has occurred and reparations are to be made."
I lean back almost lazily, crossing my legs, incedtially dislodging my friend's touch. When Loki, the fool, takes that as a sign that I want him to move away and begins to retract his hand, I discreetly catch it, squeeze it and return it to rest on my legs, knowing my friend needs the reassurance as Odin's rage spikes dangerously, the old man not even hiding it now.
The truth is that the Nine Realms are grouped together for practical reasons. They are the closest intelligent life-bearing planets to one another in our galaxy cluster, hence why Odin conquered them, but outside of them, Odin's influence is minuscule. And this rancid, shitstain of a fop-doodle is very, very reluctant to let any in the Nine Realms interact with those outside of them, lest they get dangerous ideas.
Like rebelling against tyranny, for example.
It is also probably the reason the bastard limited travel to Midgard, considering that out of the nine realms, it is the one that Odin has the least amount of influence over due to humanities short lifespan and rapid development, leaving his influence on Earth at practically nothing and only its ruler it in name, not practice.
It is all very clearly a matter of controlling the masses, no doubt, but calling the All-Fucker on it wouldn't be helpful.
"Reparations?!" Odin roars, shocked and enraged as he drives Gungnir down, the giant spear cracking the floor as magic sweeps across the ostentatious conference hall where all diplomatic negotiations are held.
Predictably, Loki and Thor fall to their knees, the spear's special ability forcing them to kneel. I, however, merely let the power roll over me with a flat look, hiding the strain of the action with a lazy slump, something that actually seems to freak Odin out, judging by the way he flinches back in his chair, eyes wide.
I hold back a scoff, but only just barely. I'm fairly certain that there are many people who could resist Gungnir, none have bothered in an effort to avoid Odin's wrath. I had been lucky to avoid one of his overt temper tantrums before now, but I also wasn't going to kneel to this man.
I couldn't, even for show. I had long since declared myself someone who would kneel to no one but the three primordials of creation, Magic, Death, and Fate, and even then, I didn't really kneel for Fate either. At best, I could occasionally bow or curtsy, but that's all.
I feel Loki grasp at my calf from where he's forced to the ground, insistently tugging at me, but I ignore it, staring the bag of dicks down yet again. The way Lucky's upper body is angled makes it clear to me that my Sheildbrother could probably resist Gungnir if he wanted as well, but that's a dangerous thing for Odin to find out.
"Yes, reparations," I enunciate almost mockingly as I snap my fingers, tugging both a pale- faced Thor and Loki into their chairs with my magic, completely ignoring the king's earlier temper tantrum just to further humiliate him. I conjure a copy of the treaty and place it before him.
Odin ignores the document in favor of calling servants to bring the original treaty written over a thousand years ago, glaring down at it and further fueling my suspicion that it was Queen Frigga that created it while Odin lounged on his blood covered throne.
Fuck, Frigga deserved so much more. She is the best and so beyond this small, cruel man. Maybe I should hook her up with a new partner once I murder the fuck out of Odin?
I stiffen as I feel the notification of one of my bracelets go off in my head, thus one connected to the X-Men. I grind my teeth, only half listening as Odin rants and rages trying to argue his way out of this, Thor thankfully providing a distraction by innocently asking his father if contradicting the treaty would not be dishonorable. Thinking fast, I silently cast a spell, mouthed behind a mug of ale, a telepathic spell that connects myself to Loki upon his consent.
Star?
Loki! I need you to sneak away and go help our friends on earth. The X-Men are requesting aid. It seems that I'll be unable to join you this time.
Loki doesn't even twitch, merely carding a hand through his hair. Leave it to me, darling. It's not like anyone cares much for my presence or opinion in such matters.
I pursed my lips, barely restraining myself from chastising my friend for his low self-esteem and verbally, or literally, eviscerating the moldy turd in front of me, but there really isn't any time. I care for your opinions. Go, our friends need you.
Loki gives a theatrical sigh and stands, tossing the rest of his ale back. "Well, I'm officially bored. I'll be heading to my rooms for a nap. Have fun with all this."
Loki begins to saunter off, even as his father whirls on him, mid scolding of Thor for his reasonable queries about King's keeping their word. "Loki! Can you not be a disgrace for even a single day? These are serious diplomatic matters!"
I grip the armrests of my chair until they creek, but Loki doesn't even falter in his stride, glossy hair, floating behind him as he scoffs. "Please, All-Father, the last four times I tried to say anything in this meeting, you talked over me or insisted I be silent. I have no desire to sit here for the next three hours as you try to wiggle out of a treaty signed before I was born. No, I think my time is better spent elsewhere."
"This is why you are not fit to rule!" Odin explodes, everyone freezing in place for a long moment, the room dropping several degrees in temperature until the air was practically misting. Even sweet, oblivious Thor leans back as though he has been struck. Loki, however, merely hums, turning slowly to look over his shoulder at his father, two piercing, glowing green orbs all I can see from his shadowed face at this distance.
"It's a good thing, then," he drawls as he turns back to leave. "That it is Thor who will be king, not I."
I watch breathlessly as my friend leaves the room, head held high, and stunningly unbowed. Regaining my wits, I grab Thor's mug and down the near full tankard of ale just to drown my need to howl in triumph.
In this moment, Loki, my Lucky, my shieldbrother and best friend, no longer seeks his father's approval. He no longer feels shame and pain when he fails to measure up to Odin's impossible standards. Loki's self worth isn't tied to Odin's opinion on him anymore. Best of all, Loki doesn't feel the need to rule just to have a place to belong because now he knows he already does belongs with those that honestly care for him. And that, I know, is something I tangibly contributed to.
It was moments like this, where I can intrinsically know that my interference made an actual positive difference, that all the stress, suffering, and grief I experience in my adventures as a reincarnator feel so utterly worth it.
With great restraint, I managed to wipe my face blank again. "So, your highness, shall we discuss reparations?"
And with that, Odin's attention and indignation is back on me, and Loki is safely escaping through a portal.
XXXXXXXXXX
The next morning, I awake with a grunt when a weight settles on top of me. I blink blearily, no feeling of danger brushing my senses and alarming me as I stick the top of my head up over the blankets only to meet jeweled eyes.
Of course it's Loki. Who else could get through my wards without me freaking out? I hum, freeing one hand to shove my mass of hair up higher on the pillow and then curling it around him where he is slumped over me, grinning like the sun. I hum, voice rasping out. "Lucky? Hurt?"
Loki's lips part as he stares for a moment, caught off guard by something before his smile becomes feather soft, letting me pull him closer and shifting until his head is settled on the pillow next to mine, half on top of my pile of hair. "… There is not a scratch on me, darling. And our Midgardian friends are doing just fine as well."
I hum again, deep in my chest and more a pur then anything else. "Then are you here for cuddles?" With some wiggling, I free my other hand in preparation, wrapping it around him as well, running it through his hair as my eyes fall shut again.
Loki goes a bit wide eyed. "I- Wait a moment, are you telling me that if I were to randomly wake you in the morning by crawling into your bed, you would merely accept, no questions asked?"
I open my eyes to glare at him, but soon resort to only cracking one eye to conserve energy and hoping it properly conveys my displeasure. "Of course. Why would I deny you cuddles?"
Loki gapes and I grunt, manhandling him to a more comfortable position and removing his elbow from my diaphragm. I roll us onto our sides more, tucking my face into his sternum as I curl against him, arms, still embracing him. I nearly drift off again only to come back to attention when his hand strokes over my spine.
I squint up only to catch him smiling a little at me, like shy blooms at the dawn of spring. "If it's alright with you, I would very much like to cuddle, both today and in the future, but I actually came to inform you that it was not the X-Men that required our help, but a friend of theirs, and yours apparently." The near manic gleam of excitement in his eyes is alarming enough to wake me up instantly. " I was most disheartened to hear you kept such an interesting creature from me."
Ah shit, I know what that tone of voice means. I stil bolt upright, Loki tumbling into my lap and rolling onto my legs from the abrupt movement.
Slowly, an almost inhumanly wide smile manifests across the god's face, a cold spike of fear shooting through me at the sight. "I have found the son of Will to be most delightful, though I confess to being baffled that you had not introduced us before. I am also 75% sure he's some kind of avatar or perhaps a demigod of chaos."
I blanch in horror as Loki recounts his meeting of Deadpool and their rescue of the man's girl, Vanessa, already trying to calculate the measures I'll have to take in order to subvert all the potentially world ending shenanigans the two will get into.
It seems that when Wade went to get help from Colossus and Negasonic, he remembered to call me. Sinceche was already at the mansion recruiting help, the X-men called me instead.
As Loki babbles on and on, I internally weep at the amount of time I'm going to have to dedicate to seeing the future in order to make sure the two don't accidentally, or purposely, start an apocalypse.
XXXXXXXXXX
"Yo," I chime merrily, once more sitting in Nick Fury's chair and eating his stash of cookies, only this time, I was thousands of feet in the air on the SHIELD helicarrier.
"Motherfucker! How do you keep doing this?!"
I snicker, amused. "The little sciencey force field thingy you got going on isn't bad at all, I must admit. But your scientists are gonna need a couple more tries before they make anything that'll even be a blimp on my radar. Nice try, though. 'A' for effort."
Nick Fury glares, and while Maria Hill eyes me with remarkable flatness, I can feel the amusement curling inside her. I grin, chomping another cookie before offering Fury the tray, rolling my eyes when he snatches the whole thing back.
"Rude, but whatever. By the way, I found these in your office." I slide some miniature bugs and cameras, now broken, over the top of his desk. Last time I had been in here, the place hadn't been bugged, something I found rather interesting. "Looks like someone's noticed your snooping, Director Eye-Patch."
Fury glowers harshly at me, but passes the pieces to Hill, teeth grinding. "What do you want? We saw your little publicity stunt with Stark."
I snort, kicking my feet up on his desk, hands resting behind my neck as I ignore the pang in my chest at the mention of my… friend? Ex-friend? "If you're asking why I didn't hide my status as an alien, I have my reasons. More than anything, it's for credibility, but that's not what I'm here to discuss with you today." Fury looks like he wants to protest, but I don't give him the chance to. "You need to pass on Howard Stark's research to Tony, the stuff about synthesizing a new element if you haven't already."
"And why the hell should we do that?" Fury barks, and I narrow my eyes, wondering why he was being contrary since he'd end up doing it eventually regardless of my interference. The pirate and his merry band of fuckheads we're starting to actually piss me off.
" Look, I get that you like to be in control and I scare you because you can't do that around me, but I have yet to prove myself anything but an asset, so mind your fucking tone," I say coldly, letting my eyes glow, both of the agents in front of me stiffening as my magic settles around us. "Secondly, that research rightfully belongs to Tony since I'm assuming it was research done by his father for Stark industries. Legally, you don't have a claim to it. And even if it was done for SHEILD and therefore your organization's property, Tony it's probably the only one who can finish what Howard started. On top of that, he needs it or he dies, and we both know you're not going to let Tony Fucking Stark die because of your own pride, are you? Or have I made a misestimation about the kind of a man you are, Director Nick Fury?"
There's a long silence in the room, both agents remaining still, their hands notably closer to their weapons than at the start of this meeting. However, after several tense moments, I summon the director's cookies back with a somewhat ironic snap of my fingers, ignoring the way Fury and Hill flinch at the display. The man sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. We'll make sure that he gets the research as soon as possible."
"You better not try some manipulation bullshit either," I reply flatly before jumping to my feet. " I have exactly 1 hour. Do you want my help sniffing out your traitors?"
Both agents don't make any overt movements, but their auras give away their surprise. "What kind of help?"
I shrug. "You can bring them in here and I'll be able to tell if they're HYDRA based on how they react to you asking questions. I can read auras."
Nick stares. "You're not lying."
I raise an eyebrow, curious. "I could be. I'm a pretty good liar when I wanna be."
The director scoffs. "I'm one of the best spies on this planet. Do you think you could deceive me?"
I hesitate. " I'm not actually sure."
The truth is, I am a pretty good liar, but I preferred to deceive rather than outright lie to people, twisting half truths until they fit like perfect puzzle pieces and misdirecting attention with careful probes that usually went unnoticed. Helheim, I am doing it this very second by not informing Fury that I'll also do some mind reading on top of checking auras to ensure his agents' loyalties. Still, I had never, in all my lives, been trained by a professional how to lie, although I have been taught by nobles and politicians how to hide my intentions to some degree, so I honestly have no clue if a professional spy would be able to read me.
Fury looks dubious but also like he can't be bothered to prove me wrong right now. "Regardless, you are right about something. You have yet to give us any indication that you were being anything, but honest, and frankly, trying to root out all the rot in my organization is getting dicier by the day. I'm choosing to trust you on this. Don't make me regret it, Miss Novahna."
"Likewise," I reply, smiling a bit. Hill leaves to bring in the first batch of agents. "Still, you should really go and ask for help from the X-Men, like I told your ass. I don't have time to do this for you again. They are good people, so don't be stubborn about involving them."
Fury looks suspicious and skeltical as fuck, but after a little bit of arguing, he does seem more open to it. By the time Maria returns with a group of agents, he concedes to at least thinking about it, which is honestly more than I thought I would get from the stubborn bastard. While the director grills his SHIELD underlings, it's easy to tell from the spikes in their emotions who's guilty and who's innocent. Within an hour, the director has captured over 30 agents and the helicarrier is free of all rats.
XXXXXXXXXX
AN: Yo! Thoughts? Feeling? Opinions?