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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

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S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate- [Pt. 5]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.

A/n:.... yall ready for this???? + For some reason, the link isn't working but I looked all over and found this really bitchin [😉] synth score for your guys' scene. You of course don't have to listen to it or anything but it's REALLY cool and fits the scene well I think. It's called

Sorcerer by S U R V I V E

I recommend it! I understand though, if you don't 🥰Either way, happy reading! And yay, snowball next!!

Warnings: suffocation, noticeable amount of violence, more blood. Baddassery. Edit: a slightly tweaked sad endgame quote my subconscious slipped in there

||3rd Person POV||

Steve and the four party members now sit at the entrance of the tunnel that had brought them to the hub, all canisters now completely empty. The hub reeked of gasoline that manages to sting their throats despite their masks.

"You ready?" Steve asks, glancing back at the kids.

A chorus of muffled agreements ring out, and only then does he pull the lighter from his breast pocket.

Dustin looks up at Steve, sending him a curt and reassigned nod.

"Light her up,"

Steve sighs, taking one last look at their work. The tension in the air now palpable.

"I am in such deep shit,"

He flicks the lighter open, and in one swift click, it comes to life with a sharp and threatening hiss.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The flames in the fireplace grow brighter and far more intense as it reaches and swallows the bigger pieces of firewood. Will's screams have turned to violent grunts has his grip grows tighter around his mother's neck. Jonathan is already at her aid, trying with all his might to release her but Will's grip is unnaturally strong and unwavering.

Seeing this, Nancy jumps into action and quickly maneuvers around the bed to the fireplace. She can't bring herself to leave the poor injured girl passed out against the wall without sending several silent apologies to her. I'm sorry, Y/n! She makes it to the fireplace and pulls the tong loose from the fire where it had been cooking and shook a few logs loose.

The end was a bright and glowing shade of yellow, and Nancy fought a deep breath and the hesitation creeping up, but she had to do something! Her grip around the firepoker tightens until her knuckles turn white.

Behind her, the fire begins to pop as the loosened logs begin to shift, and several embers are sent flying. Several of them land on Will, angering him further. It's almost enough to make him let go, but he does not relent. The firepoker is already in his side, burning right through his shirt with a horrible sizzle, and the boy howls in pain, Joyce now set free.

His back arches in horrible pain, the stick plunging further into his side and another screech is let loose.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

This was it. It was now or never. The dogs weren't going anywhere, and he had to get El to the gate. Hopper's eyes flutter closed, and he counts to three under his breath, the cry of each beast echoing in his skull and beating against his chest.

One...

Two...

Three...

He throws himself through the door, gun first, and his finger on the trigger.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Joyce now towers over her son, spit flying and her voice strained from injury. Nancy had helped her to her feet and was now aiding the rest in restraining Will.

Joyce takes a deep breath as strained screams bellow from her.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SON!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The lighter in Steve's gloved hand cast out into the fume soaked air, it's small but greedy flame swallows the entire room in seconds. The vines once woven into the dirt come alive in seconds, and they reach the ceilings, writhing and squealing as the flames engulf them.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A strong and booming roar erupts from deep within Will's chest, the deep voice of the Mind Flayer they had caught a glimpse of in the shed, returns at full force. His back arches once more, the back his head digging deep into the pillow. He is shaking violently now, as he had the night the lab had set the tunnels on fire.

Joyce stumbles back as his shaking grows more violent. His head arches back even further against all odds, and that's when they spot it.

"His neck!" Nancy cries, pointing feverishly as she returns to Jonathan's side. "Look at his neck!"

Several thick and dark veins began protruding through his skin as it crawled up his neck, and it looked as if they were full of dark sludge.

"The Mind Flayer's losing," Jonathan mumbles.

Will's head shoots up at the words, the veins have already spread to his face and even stretch across his arms now. They all jump back as his head whips off the bed, his eyes completely black. The Mind Flayer's grip on the boy tightens, his rage stronger than his pain at their audacity to tempt his strength with Henderson's presence.

"AND HE'LL DIE WITH ME!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The end of Hopper's gun finds its first target, but before he can pull the trigger he sees them writhe and hiss. Their slender bodies begin to shake violently in pain and for a moment he hopes...

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Go, go, go!"

The party does not hesitate, they are already on their feet and begin their sprint for the exit.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The bed begins to shake with him, every muscle in his body tensed with his fists clenched at his sides and shaking. They all watch in horror, his deep screams turn to grunts, not realizing what he is truly doing until it is too late. His left leg bursts free, the rope still dangling around his bleeding ankle and the others scramble to restrain him. His leg reels back before barreling into his mother's ribcage.

With his unnaturally given strength, she is sent flying a couple of feet, landing just in front of the bookshelf. His rage burns as hot as the fire that fuels it.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The fire in the hub spreads, already flames rain down from the ceiling as every inch is consumed.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The Demodogs shrill howls climb even higher, as they twitch. But their attention never leaves Hopper. They crawl and stalk towards him, heads bowed and hissing. They weren't weakened.

They were pissed.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jonathan rushes to his brother, pinning his one free arm back down.

"You're... gonna lose... him!" The words are spit from Will's mouth, a struggle through the growing pain.

Just as the monster had hoped, Jonathan hesitates, his tearful eyes widening and his whole jaw quivers fighting back a sob. Will's fist breaks loose from his grip and before Jonathan can catch it, it meets his nose sending the older boy flying back into the couch, knocking his breath loose.

Another painful scream erupted as the fire beneath Hawkins spread, but he fights it as much as he can. He was almost free. But most importantly, he couldn't let them win. Not with her on their side.

His black eyes meet with the one they called Nancy, who had been kneeling over Joyce on the floor. Her wide eyes locked onto Will's, and she froze. Her eyes darted to the spike she had left near the pit and she made a run for it.

But he was too quick and had been expecting it. Just as he had with the mother, his heel collided with her jaw and sent her to the floor as he let out a painful scream. Every movement was pure agony, but he knew he could take them now.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper's bullets are sent into several Demodogs, but he only manages to bring down two. The swarm was advancing on him, they had nearly crossed the glass when suddenly they stopped altogether.

In a matter of seconds, each of their screams blended into one and they began to writhe and shake, one of them even collapsed. Its body was still crying out in pain, but it was as if it could hold it's self no longer. One by one they began to mimic their sibling, their twitching growing ever violent. They were rooted in place, they couldn't walk.

That's when Hopper felt it. The ground beneath his feet had begun to rumble, the steady stream of cold air that had drifted in from the gate began to dwindle. He lowered his gun, his attention pulling him all around the room as it began to shake.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Let's go, let's go!"

Steve calls back to the group of kids, unable to run without checking behind him every few moments assuring everyone was with him.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god," Dustin pants as he runs.

A screech leaves his throat as he finds himself on the ground once more, but it was no vine or root that tripped him. Everyone felt it, a great rumble that shook their very bones. They all stop and Max helps Dustin up to his feet.

"What is that?" Lucas calls over the booming rumbles.

By now, the vibrations were so intense, the dirt was being shaken loose from the vines and rained down from above.

"I think it's an earthquake!" Mike cries.

A light breeze picks up in the tunnel from where they're headed, carrying with it a warm toasty wave of heat that answered their question.

"No, not an earthquake!" Dustin's eyes went wide from behind his goggles as he looked to others excitedly. "It's Y/n!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The Henderson child had managed to pull herself from unconsciousness, and she now stood across the bed. Her arms were stretched out before her and a blazing fire resided in her eyes, a grunt pulled from deep within her throat. Three bloody lines where his nails had caught her ran diagonally down her vein covered face. Each vein protruded from her skin as blood poured from her nose and ears.

Like a broken dam, all that raw power trapped inside her burst free. Y/n was a supernova, a sight to behold as everything inside her exploded all around her. She allowed the weight of all that she had endured to shoot to the surface and engulf her completely. It awakened every cell in her body and touched every nerve in her system.

She didn't have to close her eyes to relive the painful memories as she did on the side of the road. The vast and seemingly neverending pool of dark thoughts and feelings swallows her whole and it all washes over her in angry red flashes.

《•••》

Like her friends, she had mounted her bike ready to flee the Wheeler house and away from the bad men who had found them. She paused in fear, looking over her shoulder at the man who stood before his fleet of vans.

He had stark white hair and his slightly wrinkled face and surrounding him was an aura of menace.

It was him. Martin Brenner, the power-hungry man responsible for the threat that had reached Hawkins. And the man obsessed with Eleven. And herself as she would soon discover.

It was the same man who struck fear into her very soul only minutes ago through the window.

His cold eyes bore into El, but then he turned his attention to her. Something about him and the way his eyes were fixed on herself... it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her blood ran cold.

It was the day he had caught her scent.

•••

"Dustin? Dustin!" She shrieks.

Her brother's desperate calls for her break her heart, but it turns to fire when she hears the man's voice.

"Y/n, don't fight it. You belong with us. We are your true home. Come home to us, Nine"

•••

The intense and raw ache of her heart as she choked on every moment of silence El was in the bath. Everyone surrounds her as she floats silently amongst the saltwater, everyone including Y/n watching with bated breath. When her voice breaks the silence it is a soft whimper, a plea for life as she says the boy's name.

"Will?"

Y/n's hands grip the edge of the pool so tight she fears the skin of her knuckles will tear. Every moment of silence is devastating but the small snivel of Will over the walkie and what he says, deliver the final dagger to her heart.

"Y/n?"

《•••》

Y/n can feel the dagger even now, the devastating weight of all the strain and heartbreak flooding her lungs and escaping in an ear-piercing scream that moved the earth.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El joined Hopper's side in cautious steps as she traveled through the tremors, her hand coming to wrap around his elbow to steady herself. Her widened brown eyes were surveying the shaking world around them, and she could see rubble breaking loose and raining down from the ceilings around them. The warm burst of heat hit her face and neck, and that is when her eyes meet with Hopper when it finally clicked.

Simultaneously their attention is pulled to the gate where the entire army of Demodogs begins collapsing into the dark abyss one by one. The darkness swallows their bodies and their many lingering wails of agony as they fall.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The underground team looked at one another in astonishment as the reality settled in, their hands still clinging to the grimy walls around them for balance. Steve broke from his temporary stupor and began waving the kids out.

"Come on, team, keep it moving! Keep it movin'!"

They fell into action, clambering back into line as they tried to make a break for the exit. They were close, but still had several turns to make. Steve helped the children through, catching them as they fell and sending them on their way with his eyes above their heads watching carefully. All the while in his sprint, Dustin cries out proudly into the air, a beaming smile hidden behind his bandana.

"Yeah, that's my fucking sister!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The world bent at Y/n's will, everything not screwed to the walls or floors broke loose as the cabin moved around all inside it. It was a movement so forceful and demanding, it moved all of Hawkins. A guttural battle cry pierced the air as her powers exploded into an unstoppable force that had awakened her full potential.

《•••》

"She disappeared... Bang," El said slowly, a saddened frown forming on her face. "Gone."

"So, my mom? She's...?" Y/n took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat and El nodded.

•••

"Jane, let me put it this way. Does it not bother you that not only did your friend get a better life than us, but our lives were made worse because of it?"

•••

"This could be your home, you said it yourself, we're sisters[...] We'll look after each other. We understand each other. Y/n will never understand you. But I do. Would you like that, Jane?"

•••

"That pesky tag-along friend of hers, what about her?"

"I have no use for her. She's not to be trusted, I want her gone by morning."

《•••》

The heartbreak that fills her up inside no longer slows her down but instead fuels the fire in her chest. Not the Mind Flayer's hatred for her, but the fact it was using her best friend as a puppet. The awful things he was doing to Will, not only to hurt him but the ones he cared about.

《•••》

"Get out!" She winces, but this time she doesn't listen to him. "GO AWAY!"

"No. Not until I talk to Will."

"GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!"

"-Will," Joyce tries.

Will's small frame starts to move again, fighting as hard as he can against the restraints under the harsh light in the shed. His teeth are bared and his usual warm and kind eyes are dark and cold as they burn holes into her skull. Hopper has to pin him back again, but the hatred bottled up inside him for her is undeniable.

•••

"NO! NO! GO AWAY! NO! GET THE HELL OUT!" He screams. "GET OUT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

•••

Y/n watched tearfully as Joyce began to choke on her words at the pride of her son as she listened intently from the corner with a simultaneous swelling, and breaking of her heart. "You said she should have it because she was sad. She's sad, Mom, and I want to make that go away."

"I love you so much," Joyce tearfully coos. "So, so much."

The heartbreak evident in Joyce's voice brings a whole new level of pain to her heart, unable to imagine the position Joyce was in as his mother. The thought of watching your son endure such a horrific thing, not knowing if he'll even survive. It pissed her off even more.

•••

"...I asked you why you were being so nice to me, why you wanted me to be apart of your group,"

A small sob came out in the form of a chuckle, and she wiped a tear off her cheek.

"And you told me it was because..." her lip quivers as the words tumble out. "because that was your birthday wish."

A tear slips down Will's cheek, but his expression remains as still as stone. She can practically hear the breaking of her heart as she sees Will losing his battle before her very eyes. His body shakes violently in an attempt to regain control but the Mind Flayer quickly pulls him back down, swallowing him in darkness as he tries to silence him.

《•••》

Each of these moments are enough to send her over the edge, but the words she had yet to shake from her mind were the ones to do the trick. The words still bouncing violently around her skull, taunting her and reminding her that they were all moments away from losing Will forever.

As the storm inside her reaches its peak, swirling around her head and heart in a violent mass closing in on her, all she can hear are the last words she had heard from her best friend before he had attacked her.

"KILL HER, DAMMIT! KILL HER! KILL HER!"

The room grew from dim to blinding in a matter of astonish-filled moments.

Her s/c skin began to glow like a star, the cosmic force at work pumping hard through her veins. Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce watched in awe as she comes alive, all the while Will's small and trembling frame twisting and kicking as he is engulfed in searing pain.

His screams vibrate with his body before his small frame shrinks in on itself like a dead spider. He straightens in seconds, his head, hands, and feet now glued to the bed as he bends in one final arc, his chest rising to the heavens. Will's mouth opens in another scream and a billowing cloud of inky black smoke escapes. It twists and unravels out from between his lips like a pitch-black tornado.

It grows larger and larger, circling over the boy and looms over the entire room as it had the last few days. Will's body goes limp, falling back onto the mattress as the dark mass zips across the room and through the front door breaking it open.

Nancy quickly recovers her footing and chases it out of the door to assure it's leaving for good. Sure enough, when she reaches the porch she spots the black dust circle the trees before disappearing into the sky.

The first thing that stops is the light, all that illuminates the room now is the dim lamps they had flipped on and light of the flames. Everything in the room begins to settle, the rattling of dishes and furniture, and dust rained down from the ceiling from where it had broken loose.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

By now, their trek back to the exit is halfway through, their gloves now completely damp from grasping the walls as they navigate through the tremors. But they find themselves slowing, meeting each other's eye excitedly when the earth gradually steadies again.

They picked up speed immediately, eager not only to escape the tunnels but to see their friend - and sister - again.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A thud breaks the shocked silence as Y/n collapses to her hands and knees, coughing and panting for breath. The room is blurry and she only catches every other word. Her arms feel just as weak and strained and she allows herself to collapse against the wall nearby.

The scuffling of shoes enters her subconscious as she fights to understand what's going on. Y/n can barely register what is happening when she feels a hand lightly touch her shoulder. She nods either way and the figure scurries away.

It had been Joyce, who had pulled herself up from the ground and came to check on Y/n when she gave the all-clear. Her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds and she could feel herself falling asleep against the wall. She tried to stay awake, to know if Will was okay but again she found herself catching every few moments.

All heaters now unplugged, the door left open to let in the cold autumn air.

Jonathan had helped untie the rest of his restraints, and Joyce now sat at his bedside as he lay unconscious. His eyes were sunken, his eyelids dark. He was still awfully pale but already he looked more himself. Will's limp body shifts around as his mother lightly tries to shake him awake, her chest sore and her throat strained but she doesn't care. She just wants her baby.

"Will," she sobs. "Will. Please, Will. Will."

Through sobs of his own, Jonathan places one trembling hand onto his brother's head, brushing away the stray hairs as pleas leave his lips. "Come on, buddy. Come on."

"Please," Joyce wails. "Can you hear me?"

"Come on,"

"Will?"

With great struggle, his eyelids finally flutter open. When Will sees who is in front of him, he feels relief overwhelm him. His lips tug into a weak smile, eliciting an excited gasp from his mother.

"Mom?"

Will feels his limp and drained body being pulled into his mother's embrace, he happily welcomes it. His sobs of relief are buried in her hair and he can feel his shoulder dampening further with her own tears. His eyes are squeezed shut, and despite his lack of strength, he squeezes with all his might, never wanting to let go. He was all too afraid none of it was real, and he doesn't realize it to be possible but his happiness grows when he feels his brother join the hug. Jonathan locks his long arms around his family, like them, not ever wanting to let go.

Nancy has already returned, and when she found the Byers in a tearful embrace, she was happy to know the youngest was now okay. But worry remained and quickly she maneuvered through the now cluttered cabin floor to Y/n's side and knelt to her knees to check on the poor girl.

Y/n's head was propped up against the wall, her chest moved up and down in shallow breaths but the blood seemed to have stopped flowing. Nancy lays a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, pulling her from sleep. Y/n looks up around the room, trying to see through her foggy vision who was with her now.

Nancy whispered to her softly, her thumb subconsciously running soothing circles into her shoulder as her mother always did for her when she was unwell. "Y/n, are you okay?"

"I..."

She tries to speak, but her mouth is too dry. Her dry tongue meets her dried and cracked lips as she tries to find her voice and that is when she notes the taste of salty copper on her tongue. Her blood had mixed with tears, she hadn't even realized she had been crying. When her vision clears, it lands on Will's trembling form as he clings to his mother and brother in relief.

Her eyes begin to sting, and she looks at Nancy, trying to form words but none seem to come. It feels as if a rock sits in her throat, and she can feel more tears streak down her cheeks stinging the scratches on her face. She should be happy that Will was alright! She was, but what she had just done...

It was all too much for her at that moment, and sobs choked her airways. Y/n's limbs were growing heavier by the second and she felt herself collapse into Nancy's shoulder. Nancy pulled Y/n in, her eyebrows knitting together in a sorrowful frown. Y/n's tears and blood soaked her neck and shirt further, and like Joyce, she couldn't care less. Her arms wrapped around the girl's shaking form and began rubbing her back soothingly.

"You did it, Y/n," she whispers, eyes closed, holding back tears of her own. "You were so great..."

The words coax another sob out of the Henderson girl as all her emotions come flooding out, no longer held back. The words Nancy speaks to her are the words she hadn't known she had needed to hear.

"It's okay," she mutters. "It's over, now. You can rest."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The rest of the pack had disappeared down into the abyss, Hopper's right arm still secured tightly around El's shoulders in a protective manner. The warm wind gusting through the broken glass separating them from the abyss gingerly fades away, allowing the cold atmosphere leaking in from the gate to return.

The earth had stilled completely, leaving behind an eery silence that rose the hair on the back of their necks. They didn't have to say anything, but when their eyes met, they knew then and there that Will was safe.

Y/n had done it.

As if reading their thoughts, the walkie Hopper holsters crackle loudly disrupting the deafening silence, and Jonathan's voice booms over the other side.

"Chief, are you there? Chief, do you copy?"

Hopper hastily draws the walkie from his pocket and up to his lips, his breath shaky. "Yeah, I copy."

"..."

Both pairs of eyes land on the gate before them as Jonathan speaks, dread soaks them to the very bone and the icy chill returns to the stale air.

"Close it."

||Reader's POV||

"Close it,"

It takes about all the energy I have but I manage to peel my eyes open at the sound of Jonathan's voice. He's speaking into a ham radio attached to the wall, and his face is hardened in a frown.

The room shakes once very suddenly, or at least it feels like it does as my head throbs. I groan, my eyes screwing shut. I hear more footsteps, and the low steady creak of the bedsprings dipping as Jonathan takes a seat next to his brother.

It all washes over me again, the intensity of it all. My chest tightens and I feel more tears brimming. It hurts to breathe, to move my chest since my entire body is aching, every muscle.

But I also feel... Really good. Finally confronting all of my pain, and letting it all out... In a way, it felt like fresh air and natural light streaming in after years of living in a dark and stale room. The change felt good.

It's an intense and bizarre cocktail of emotions that barred my thinking and made it hard to function. But over it all, I know one thing for sure. I need to rest.

I'm not sure I could do anything else if I tried, but I'm just thankful it's over. And above all, that Will is safe. Still, I can't quite wrap my head around what I had just accomplished, everything that still sits on the surface.

I feel more tears squeeze past my eyelids as the grief washes over me in its usual steady waves. They streak down the sides of my face and disappear through my scalp, tickling my cheeks as they glide across my skin. It finally clicks that I'm no longer on the floor, but the others must have moved me to the couch where I now lay on my back, head propped against a woolen pillow. The searing hot tears diverge in many paths in a new batch and now soak into the creases of my ears.

My joints scream at me in protest as I reach limply to swipe away as many tears as I can, my eyes still closed and my lip screwed in a quiver. On instinct, my palms travel across my face as I try to rub away the tears, and the blood from my nose and ears but I surprise myself with a whimper.

I barely register a small and gentle gasp and the scuffle of footsteps heading towards me as I try to understand why my face is stinging. I feel the couch dip slightly, and a pair of soft hands touch my wrists urging me to pull away. Soft shushing captures my attention and I recognize it to be Joyce. I fight against the pain of the soft light illuminating the cabin that sears my throbbing head to look at her, and it takes a moment to adjust but for the first time since I opened my eyes I can see clearly now.

Joyce sits next to me, her eyes are swimming in tears as looks at me and her lips are stretched across her face in a beaming smile, though her bottom lip still quivers. I feel more tears escape as I try to find words, but none come and that seems to break her more.

She shakes her head with the same expression still fixed on her face and sniffles. When she speaks her voice is still hoarse and raspy but I can still make out the pride in it.

"I know, honey. I'm so, so sorry." I feel her hand intertwine with mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm so sorry,"

Through my blurry vision I make out Nancy's figure approach us from behind me, and she hands something to Joyce who mutters a thank you. Her hand releases mine as she unfolds what Nancy had brought her, and I realize now that it's a wet cloth. She bunches it up and meets my eyes with a soft motherly gaze.

"This might sting a little, but it'll help, okay?"

I nod, my eyes fluttering closed again as a shakey sigh escapes. I feel the cool cloth meet my skin, stinging the three prominent streaks across my face. I bite back a hiss, feeling soothed just ever so as I hear her muttering softly to me.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Almost done,"

The worst of the pain begins to fade and my eyes flutter back open. She pulls the cloth away to turn it over, and I spot the dark smears of blood already soaked inside. She brings it back to my face, dabbing away the dried up streaks that had tightened my skin under my nose and the streaks under my ears.

Joyce pulls away, bunching up the cloth dropping it in her lap forgotten, her eyes back on me. It hurts to swallow, so I can feel the uncomfortable build up in my mouth as more tears seem to brim. I catch Joyce's hands gently reaching for mine and I let her take it, both her calloused but soft hands sandwich my own and it forces me to meet her eyes.

"You are so, so brave," she chokes, tears spilling from her eyes. "and so strong..."

Her head shakes back and forth slightly as if trying to will the tears away but she can't. She can only try to compose herself long enough to get the words out. Her right-hand breaks free and her thumb gently wipes away one of many stray tears on my cheek and comes to stroke my chin in one gentle swipe.

"I'll never be able to thank you properly for what you just did..." her lip quivers violently now, but the large smile returns, breaking out on her face as she speaks with absolute certainty. "I am so proud of you,"

An audible sob shakes my body, and with some struggle - and help from her - I pull myself up and into Joyce's arms. She gladly pulls me in, sobs leaving her lips as well and I feel a different kind of warmth spread through my chest, all the way to my fingertips and toes. It wasn't a hostile warmth, but a comforting one, and I realize for the first time why both her and Nancy's embrace and words meant so much to me.

It was the warm motherly reassurance I hadn't realized I'd been missing. My own mother had no knowledge of my powers, my past, anything that had truly happened in the past year. And therefore knew nothing of the enormous weight the Upside Down, my powers, Will, all of it, had on me. And to have the acceptance and reassurance of Joyce - even Nancy - after going so long without it, felt almost intoxicating in the moment.

I burrowed my head in the crook of her shoulder, and as Nancy did, her palms rubbed soothing circles into my back as she let me cry into her hair. I kept hearing her mutter the words softly in my ears, assuring the words stuck inside my brain so I wouldn't ever forget it.

"I'm so proud, baby, so proud," her voice was low and soothing and she cradled me. "You did so good."

My heartbeat had already slowed significantly in her embrace, and it felt as if I had melted into her shoulder. She never broke the hug, showing me she was here for me as long as I needed her which I greatly appreciated. Finally, my eyes fluttered open and I slowly pull away.

For the first time since waking, I am getting a good look around the cabin, and my mouth parts slightly in shock. It looked as if it had been ransacked, so many things had fallen to the floor and I looked at her worriedly. She smiled, shaking her head.

"It's okay hon, it's fixable," she assured, she then picks up the bloodied cloth from her lap and sends me a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back,"

I nod silently, still fighting back a wince as I look behind me at the fallen stools at the breakfast bar and the many things littering the floor that had once been on shelves. The lamp on the table had fallen over and several shards of glass from the bulb were sprinkled across the table and floor.

My eyes wander back to the living room and my breath catches in my throat when I see Will. Jonathan and Nancy sat on either side of him talking to one another as well as him. But he was looking at me, and I felt my heartbeat spike significantly. His face was full of guilt as he had been examining my face, most likely where he must have scratched me. He didn't break away when I met his gaze, and for a moment we shared silent apologies.

I offered him a weak smile, telling him it was okay and he seemed to melt. And yet, the sight was enough to make my insides melt as well. It was such a wonderful sight to see after the past few days, knowing and seeing him okay. My stomach begins to flutter when I see a blush creep up on his cheeks. It wasn't hard to spot given his still paled skin, but I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as well.

But just as soon our attention was pulled to the lights around the cabin. It drew everyone's attention, including Joyce who paused at the kitchen sink as the lights grew brighter and brighter. The cabin grew blindingly bright for the second time that night, and halfheartedly my palms raised off my lap to silently say 'it isn't me this time.'

My brain races to connect the dots as my eyes squint through the blinding light of the bulbs when it finally clicks. Jonathan and Nancy seem to have made the same connection when I meet their wide-eyed stare, the word tumbling out of my mouth in a whisper.

"Eleven."

||3rd Person POV||

༄ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ༄

The final lock is secured with a defined click, signifying the end of Hawkins Laboratory. One of the final many guards to lock up steps away from one of many chained up entrances revealing the large signs plastered over the wall behind him.

WARNING RESTRICTED AREA

The man climbs aboard the jeep and no sooner does it take off down the main exit of the now-abandoned lot, bleeding into line with the rest of the troops.

Thanks to Nancy and Jonathan and the help of an eccentric conspiracist, Murray Bauman during the unfolding events of the prior month, the three had concocted a plan to take down Hawkins Lab. With enough proof - a secret audio tape of Sam Owens discussing the cover-up of Barb's death - were able to fabricate a smaller conspiracy big enough to take down the lab.

A conspiracy that was now being broadcasted nationwide.

"Since the release of the incendiary tape, the once quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana, has spent time in a place it never expected."

One by one the line of military troops file out of the main entrance to the lab for good. Sat comfortably in a lawn chair outside his parked van was none other than Murray Bauman, who watched the parade of troops merrily with a smug grin on his bespeckled face.

"The national spotlight."

The man giggled happily, one hand leaving his pocket and waving an exaggerated salute at the man in the jeep. Glaring as the car carried him by, he sent the smug man the finger without breaking contact from the road. Murray's giggles only grow more mischievous, and he sends a very kiddish wave to the rest, his cheeks sore from smiling.

"Under mounting pressure, several high-ranking members from the U.S Department of Energy have admitted involvement in the death and cover-up,"

Several sullen figures dressed all in black surround the polished coffin being lowered into the ground. Three of these figures, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, and Steve Harrington.

"of Hawkins resident Barbara Holland who died due to exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant, which had leaked from the grounds of the lab."

Mr. And Mrs. Holland stand in each other's embrace at their daughters grave in tears, grasping tightly to one another. The long search for their daughter over in the most devastating conclusion.

"We send our own April Kline to Hawkins to speak to residents,"

The news anchor's voice echoes throughout the Hideaway bar from the small television set sat high on the shelf. The walls and shelves are decorated with many chunky Christmas lights for the upcoming holiday. The bar is filled with small chatter that fades out over the TV and the occasional clinking of glasses.

"residents who told us they thought they lived in a safe town. A kind of town where, they say, nothing ever happens."

The entrance to the Hideaway is pulled open with little strain, the warm air trapped inside is swept out with the demanding winter breeze that quickly takes its place. Wrapped up in a thick winter coat, Hopper steps inside and takes a quick look around. It hadn't changed much since his last visit over a year ago during his investigation of the lab and Will's "death". Funny enough, he used to frequent the place often, but since El had entered his life, he had quickly lost interest.

His eyes find the man he had come here to meet across the bar, sat at one of several booths enjoying a ham and turkey sandwich. Making his way across the bar, Hopper discards his heavy jacket, folding it up against his chest and tossing it in the corner of the booth before taking a seat across from Dr. Sam Owens.

"Cheif-o," the man pipes with a smile.

"How's the leg?" Hopper questions with a small smile.

Owens nods, swallowing the last of his bite and gestures to his right leg.

"Better," he chips. "Pretty sure my football career is over."

The two men share a small chuckle. Owens picks up the half of his sandwich he had touched and pushed the plate full of chips and the rest of the sandwich across the table in offering.

"Want some of this? No way I'm gonna finish it."

A tight, polite smile plasters over Hopper's face as he waves it off and gives him a shake of the head.

"No. I'm, uh... on a diet." He admits, thinking of El.

He had done a lot of thinking, and he knew now that he wanted this kid in his life for good. And that meant taking good care of himself so she had someone looking out for her.

It was also the very reason for this visit, and why he had been so anxious to talk to Owens. He stared at the man across from him as he spoke. Not bothered to try and hide the intimidation in his eyes as he prepared to reap the threat that was sown back in Hawkins Lab all those nights ago.

"Well, you're a better man than me," Owens says, immediately perking as he turns to his discarded jacket pocket. "Hey, got a little something for you."

Hopper sighs, leaning further back in his seat a bit taken aback. He watches curiously as Owens pulls a sealed white envelope out, places it on the table, and slides it across into his hand.

With a furrowed brow, Hopper picks it up and the envelope opens with a small crinkle. A somewhat thick piece of parchment lays inside that makes his heart skip a beat, all previous intimidations he was prepared to throw at the doctor vanish completely. He tucks the ends out of the envelope to get a better look, also being cautious of any possible prying eyes but no matter how many times he reads the words it doesn't seem real.

STATE OF INDIANA Certificate of Birth

This Certifies that according to records if the State of Indiana

Name 𝙹𝙰𝙽𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙿𝙴𝚁 Was born in 𝙷𝙰𝚆𝙺𝙸𝙽𝚂 Child of 𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙰 𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂

"Congratulations, Pops," Owens smirks.

Hopper's wide eyes dart to across the table to the man watching his reaction. "I thought--"

Owens shrugged. "Sometimes I impress even myself."

Hopper slips the parchment back into the sleeve, and folds up the envelope before slipping it into his jacket pocket where he wouldn't lose it. His defenses creep back up at what the man says next, though not as bad given the progress.

"Still, I'd let things cool off for a while, if I were you."

Hopper subconsciously squares his shoulders, his long and bulky arms coming to stretch across the table in an intimidating manner. His brows bunch together in a creased frown, tilting his head.

"How long is a while?"

He tries to remain patient with the man, but it proves more difficult than anticipated considering the heavy weight of his guilt. Hopper couldn't deny he played just a big of a part in El's captivity in the cabin, even if it was out of good intentions. All the more reason he was now determined to make it right.

"Want to be safe? Give it a year," Owens answers.

Hopper's brows shoot up. "A year?"

Shit.

His chest deflates in a sigh and snatches the untouched sandwich off the plate, taking a rather large bite out of the side. He thinks for a moment, an idea forming in his head.

"What about one night out?"

"One night?"

"Yeah," he hardens, quickly attaching himself to the idea, knowing how important it was to El. "How risky would that be?"

"What's so important about one night?"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Link down below in the comments as usual, and of course, BLACK LIVES MATTER!!

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jango-fettish · 3 years

Text

The Asterian Saga: The Jedi

Chapter 1

Summary: As the daughter of a High Priestess of Asteria, Paghs Makosh was forced to live two lives: one of a Jedi and one that followed traditional Asterian ideals. After returning from a year long exploratory mission in uncharted space, Paghs discovers that her once peaceful home planet is on the brink of a civil war and those in charge, including her mother, are doing nothing to help the people. Now, Paghs must now grapple with her own beliefs and fears as her understanding of the Force and her place in the universe is tested by unforeseen forces.

Rating: R

Pairings: None yet; will be WolffeXOC

Warnings: descriptions of violence and injuries, death, talk of death/meaning of life (sorry if I forgot any, I am new at this)

Word Count: 2851

a/n: This is an OC story, so there is no use of “y/n” or second person perspective. The OC and her planet/culture are entirely my own creation: I cannot take credit for anything else. This takes place during TCW, but I have altered the timeline to fit my story, oops.

Gif by celebrate-the-clone-wars. Can be found here

They had been taken by surprise, not realizing they were being followed until it was too late. The planetary monitoring systems on The Spectator had picked up no life forms or machinery in the sector the 00 Covert Commando Platoon landed in. It was supposed to be simple and easy, they were only surveying the land.

The sound of blasters being fired was quickly followed by horrified yells and monstrous growls. The planet they landed on, Cromia P0F5 as the troopers called it, offered little options for cover, with only a few boulders and sparse trees jutting out from the barren ground granting the 36 troopers safety from the assault.

Jedi Master Paghs Makosh of Asteria crouched behind a large rock with two of her men, Clone Commander Crusher and Dent. She was as much as a shinie as Dent was, with this being her first melee since passing her Trials and being sent on this exploratory mission.

“Only took 326 days to see some sort of action,” Dent joked, as he fired at the enemy.

“What are we dealing with, Commander?” Paghs asked, ignoring Dent. She would have found his comment more amusing, had it not been for a large boulder that flew inches from her head moments before she found cover with the two.

“Ground scans say 40 beings approaching from the west,” Crusher said.

“How did our initial scans not pick this up?” Paghs asked herself.

“Pace said they looked similar to Trandoshans,” Dent commented.

Paghs cursed. She hadn’t been able to get a clear look at the creatures when they first attacked. If the creatures were similar to the cold-blooded species she was so used to seeing around the Republic, then they could surely have the ability to camouflage themselves from the scanners on The Spectator.

“I hate lizards,” Crusher mumbled.

Paghs clicked a button on her wrist communicator, opening the direct line with The Spectator. She didn’t have time to worry about scrambling their signal, “Captain, I’m going to need an immediate pick up in sector 3. I repeat, immediate pick up in sector 3.”

“General,” the ship captain’s voice responded, “Sector 3 is surrounded by mountains, it’ll be difficult to navigate.”

“Just do it!” she shouted in the communicator before ending the call.

The snarls and growls and awful hissing noises from the unseen enemy suddenly stopped. It was too quiet, the only thing Paghs could hear was her heartbeat thumping in her ears. Her grip on her lightsaber was tight enough to make the orchid-colored skin of her knuckles nearly white.

The surrounding mountains did little to hide the scorching heat of the setting sun. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead. As she wiped it away with the back of her hand, she felt a roll of uneasiness pass through her. It was like a thousand pins were being pricked into her skin, not hard enough to cause pain, but enough for her to be uncomfortable. It was a sign of danger.

“Move!” she yelled to the two clones. She tried to Force push them out of the way, but the top of the rock they were hiding behind suddenly shattered, launching Paghs forward a few feet.

Her chest hit the ground harder than expected, but it was her hands that took the brunt of the fall. Tiny rocks made a home for themselves in her palms and she could already feel the bruising begin to form. The rough landing disengaged her lightsaber, the green blade disappeared with a small hiss. Crusher landed to her right, far more gracefully than she had. He quickly positioned his weapon toward the rock. Paghs managed to roll to back, ignoring the burning ache that settled in her body.

She heard Dent’s screams before she realized what she was looking at.

“Great Goddess,” Paghs said in horror.

Hunched over the broken rock was a large lizard-like creature, it’s scaly arm outstretched and holding onto Dent’s neck. Three sharp claws dug into the clone’s helmet, puncturing the plastoid-alloy material. He was screaming, trying to get his gun at the ready, but his screams only seemed to piss the creature off more. With a single squeeze from the large claw of a hand, the scream was replaced with a sharp snap.

“Dent!” Paghs screamed, scrambling to her feet as the creature threw his lifeless body haphazardly to the side.

“Definitely uglier than Trandoshans,” Crusher commented. She didn’t say respond, afraid that if she opened her mouth, more than just words would come out.

The creature slowly began climbing down the rock, its body contorting to easily get around the jagged edges. Two black beady eyes examined her from their giant scaly sockets. It stood on all fours, its barbed tail, which was equally as sharp as its claws, whipped through the air with a crack. The creature’s large mouth curved upwards into an open smile, revealing razor sharp teeth. It was mocking them, mocking the death of their comrade. She didn’t notice two smaller creatures approaching from the sides until she felt a hand grab her arm, forcing her into a retreat.

Scrambling to her feet, Paghs ran towards the rendezvous point. The Spectator was a klick away, hovering above the ground. A few of the faster clones had made it aboard. Those that struggled to keep up were taken down from their flanks by the pack of creatures. It was a hunt for them. They were being hunted.

“Ahh!” Paghs heard from her right as one of the smaller creatures swiped at Crusher’s feet, bringing him down. She skidded to a halt, igniting her lightsaber. Crusher’s helmet was forced off his head in the fall, landing at Paghs’s feet.

The smaller creature swatted at the fallen trooper, dragging its claws down his face. Crusher screamed in pain, pulling the trigger of his blaster and unloading everything into the creature’s body. It cried out in pain and in a puff of smoke, it slumped over and fell to the side.

Paghs ran to Crusher’s side. She couldn’t look at his face, too fearful of the bloody mess that would be looking back at her. Her mind was racing as she knelt next to him. She was supposed to protect him, she was supposed to protect all of them and she was failing.

Crusher groaned in pain. His hand reached to his right ankle; it having been injured in the fall.

“General, watch out!” Crusher called.

His warning came too late.

She heard a whoosh through the air, as the creature she thought Crusher had killed, swung its formidable tail at her. She tumbled forward, the air violently escaping from her lungs for a second time. Her hands and face scarped on the gravel laden ground. There was a searing pain in her back, but she was too dazed from the fall to react. As the creature ripped its tail free from the skin of her back, a few of the spikes broke off and rooted themselves into her flesh.

This time she screamed.

The creature grabbed her ankle, pulling her closer to its mangled body. She squirmed, turning onto her back. She bit the insides of her cheeks bloody, holding in her cries as the ground pushed the spikes further into her back. The creature jumped on top of her and began swiping its claws towards her face. Paghs used her weaning strength to keep the creature at bay, holding onto its arms. It roared, the loud guttural tone drowning out the screams of troopers. It lurched its ghastly face forward, teeth bared and dripping with saliva.

“I kriffing hate lizards!” She heard Crusher yell before a red blaster shot hit the creature in its head.

The creature’s black eyes slowly lost their life and its body began to grow heavy. It dropped dead to the ground, half of it still laying on Paghs. Its open jaw just missed her face. She mustered her strength and attempted to push it off of her, the muscles in her arms throbbing with each push.

“I got you, General,” Crusher said from behind her. He looped his arms under hers and began dragging Paghs’s out from under the creature. She cried out in pain as one of the barbs in her back was pushed down, elongating the cut it had originally made.

“I know, I know…I’m sorry,” Crusher whispered.

“We are not going to die on this stupid planet,” Paghs growled when she was finally free. She tried to ignore the searing pain in her back and could feel the blood freely flowing down and seep into the leather plackart.

She wrapped her arm around Crusher, his ankle no longer able to keep him standing steadily. They were surrounded by at least six of the creatures, each growling ferociously and circling around them as animals did when they cornered their prey. Paghs looked around, trying to find a weak point in their circle.

“General,” a voice from her wrist communication device called, “Are you alright? We lost sight of you for a moment.”

“I’m fine,” she said, “Captain, move the ship to my starboard, keep her a good 40 feet from the ground, we don’t know how high these things can jump.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you have planned?” Crusher said weakly. He was pointing his gun at the largest creature, the one that killed Dent.

“You are not going to like it,” she answered.

“Paghs,” Crusher warned.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

He paused for a moment, “With my life.”

“We’re going to be okay,” she said, finally looking at Crusher. “You’re going to be okay.”

*********

“General, are you okay? General?” a voice asked, forcing the Asterian out of her memories. It was the warm hand on her shoulder that fully pulled her back to reality. She jumped up, nearly falling out of her seat. Crusher stood next to her, his helmet was placed on the table next to her. Three jagged lines were painted into the side of it. Crusher told her it was a memorial to the people they lost, Paghs just thought it was another way to remember a terrible day.

“You sure you’re a Jedi?” Crusher jested. Though his tone was light, Paghs could see concern in his eyes. “You’ve been staring at this blasted thing for hours. ”

Paghs turned in her seat lethargically to stare at the blue toned holomap of Cromia P0F5. It had been weeks since they escaped the planet, weeks since she even thought of those creatures, of the men she lost. Her mouth felt dry.

“Sorry,” she said, clearing her throat, “Was just trying to finish the write up.”

“Thought I told you I was going to do that,” Crusher said, narrowing his eyes at her.

She looked at him, or rather looked at the scars that ran down half of his face. The three thin lines were pink and irritated, one running through the corner of his mouth giving him a permanent frown. She wondered if they hurt as much as or more than her own. The medic droid did what it could, but Bacta couldn’t fix everything.

“I’m faster at it,” she replied, trying not to catch his eyes.

“It’s been weeks,” he said flatly. She didn’t respond and looked away in shame. “Am I really that ugly to look at?”

Paghs tried to choke on her laugh, “Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry,” he said with a sigh. He pulled back an open chair next to her and sat down. “We’ll be back in Coruscant in less than six hours, which means you’ll be presenting everything to the Senate in seven.”

“Unless this ship falls apart first,” she snorted. The Spectator, while a good ship, was old and outdated.

“Go get some rest, I’ll finish this report.”

“Jeez, I thought I was the superior officer here,” she half-heartedly joked. “I’ve had enough rest, thank you very much.” It was a lie. She had barely been able to sleep through the nights, plagued by nightmares.

“You excited to be back?” she asked, wanting to change the subject. She stretched her arms up, feeling a twinge of pain in her back as the skin stretched.

“I’m excited to not be stuck on this ship anymore,” Crusher said nonchalantly.

“Is my company really that bad?”

“Not as bad as the food.”

“You wound me,” Paghs said, dramatically putting a hand to her chest. “After all I have done for you, this is how you treat me.”

“Are you excited to be back?” Crusher asked, ignoring her theatrics.

“Oh totally,” she said sarcastically, “I am so ready to face the Senate and tell them all about our little adventures. You know she’s probably going to be there. That woman is insufferable.”

“Aren’t all Senators?”

“You know what Master Plo told me before communications with the Republic cut off? That she is the leader of the damn opposition for this mission.”

“You let her affect your feelings too much.”

“Great Goddess, you sound like the Council,” she said.

“Something else bothering you?” Crusher asked. He knew the answer. Of course something else was bothering her.

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“The boys are worried about you.”

She sighed and leaned back in the chair, running her hands through her silver hair, letting her fingers tug at the knots. She looked back at the holomap of Cromia P0F5, a deep frown settling on her face.

“You’ve been thinking about it again, haven’t you?” Crusher asked, breaking the silence.

“I always think about it,” she whispered.

“There wasn’t anything you could have done.”

“I could have felt around in the Force, acted quicker. I could have saved everyone.” Paghs knew it wasn’t exactly how the Force worked, but she felt like she had to make an excuse for what happened.

“This is what we were created for, General. To die in battle...to die for the Republic is an honor for any clone.”

“It’s also an honor to see what you are fighting for survive,” Paghs countered. “You’re not just soldiers...you’re men,” she paused, “They at least deserved a proper burial.”

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la,” Crusher said softly. Paghs had heard the Mando’a words multiple times since their time on Cromia P035. One of the medic clones had told her it was the Mandalorian words for the departed: Not gone, merely marching far away.

It was her fault the clones had to say them.

The conversation had taken a turn too heavy for Paghs to handle at the moment. She looked back to Crusher. His eyes were shut, enjoying the moment of silence. He looked peaceful, the most peaceful she had seen him in awhile. She would have to remind herself to give him and the rest of the team the proper leave time when they returned to Coruscant. They deserved to be able to actually relax before being thrown into another battle.

She looked to his scar again and felt the bile raise up in her throat. She didn’t understand how he was able to be so nonchalant about what happened. Maybe it was the clones programming or maybe it was because he was experienced in the field. She remembered staying by his bedside in the Medic Wing. She nearly tore apart the medic droid for the quick, almost sloppy, work it did dressing his wounds. Even after her outburst, they still did not give the same amount of care to Crusher’s injury as they did with hers.

“Will you please get a medic to check that thing out before you finish the debriefing for me?” she asked gently.

He opened his eyes, a large grin forming, “What’s that blasted droid going to do that it hasn’t done already? Besides, I’ve been told that Coruscanti women go crazy for one of these.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Paghs said, rolling her eyes. She looked out the main window on the command deck. They would reach Coruscant soon enough.

As the hundreds of stars passed by in the cerulean haze of hyperspace, a dull ache formed into the base of Paghs’s head. It creeped up her neck and into her skull, settling just behind her eyes. It gnawed away at her mind, forcing any other thought or semblance of peace away until it was the only thing present. She had felt this only once before, just before they left the atmosphere of Coruscant all those months ago. She had tried to forget the awful feeling, believing that it was just her nerves of going on her first solo mission. But now she couldn’t ignore it; she couldn’t wish it away.

“Something wrong, General?” Crusher asked.

“We’ve been gone for over a year,” she began. “Great Goddess, we haven’t even heard from anyone outside this ship months. I’m just...maybe I’m just worried that we aren't coming back to what we left.” She said with a frown.

“I’m sure they’re worried too.”

“What do you mean?”

“We aren’t the same people that left a year ago, General,” he said. “And that should worry you as well.”

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

Text

The Witchress of Keadwen (Geralt x reader, Part 4.)

Series description: The Butcher of Blaviken has a long and famous past, thanks to his friend Jaskier. Yet, neither of those dies easily and it still lurks behind Geralt like a shadow after all those years. History, neither unfriendly relationships, doesn't die easily.

Part Summary: Your arrival to villages of Borin and Corin were more or less accepted by the folk living there. Yet with uncovering the mystery risen up around Mahakam mountains, there were more questions than aswer.

A/N: Why did I fell so hard so the Witcher politics? It was almost not mentioned in the series at all, but I am all about Temeria this and Redania that.

Tagging: @osgon-azure @davnwillcome @missdictatorme @nemodoren

Word count: 2.8K

Master list: H E R E

The party of mighty heroes was established, consisting of two witchers and one certainly attractive and legendary bard. As it was said the previous night, all of them met in front of the residence early in the morning to gather the last clues so later that day, they could set on their journey. The fog was thick and white as cow’s milk, the air was ice cold.

"I feel that I'm dying Geralt, I swear, I shall fall on this grass and never get up again." - Jaskier jested rather loudly, catching your attention. You were just feeding your horse and it appeared that you were talking to the animal. That was kinda a common thing when you were a witcher. You hadn't a better friend than your animal.

"It's only a hangover, Jaskier. You'll be fine as always." - Geralt grunted back, having a hangover himself. He shouldn't drink four ales and two wines. Yet he did and this was what he had gotten for acting dumb.

"This is the professionality you get from Geralt of Rivia himself." - You chuckled back and swung your leg over your horse to get on top of it. While Roach was a small, brown, and gentle mare, your horse was a beast. It had about two meters and it was as black as night. It was one of the expansive warhorses that weren't common for a witcher. What was common for a witcher was a werewolf head you had strapped to the saddle. Geralt has done the same and jumped on Roach’s back, only Jaskier still stood on the ground and was looking at both of you.

"Where is your horse, bard?" - You asked a bit unbelievably, your look being shot at Geralt as he was the bard's friend. - "If you ride on one horse, I don't judge. Just hop on there so we can go." - You said to Jaskier, petting your horse's neck.

"He doesn't have a horse." - Geralt said, making Roach go forward. Jaskier nodded and started walking behind Geralt. No. On your watch, the bard wasn't going on his feet. It wasn't that you liked him or anything that human, it would just be too fucking slow. And your horse was a big, strong one. Your two meters tall horse called Chamberlain stopped right next to Jaskier and you furrowed while you offered him your palm.

“You are too slow on your feet and I am not listening to your crying.” - You hissed as you helped Jaskier on the horse’s back. You almost slapped the man when you felt palms on your hips. - “If you touch me again I swear to Melitele that I will decapitate you, bard.” - You hissed and made Chamberlain go.

Jaskier wouldn’t recognize you in the morning. All the fancy diamonds were now gone, you weren’t wearing any make-up or jewelry. Jaskier could feel one of your swords poking his leg the whole ride, the second one’s hilt almost hitting his forehead.

Since he never has seen a female witcher, a witchress you would say, he was kinda wondering about your armor and the similarity it bore to Geralt’s. You had the same medallion of a wolf head, the same leather was used on your chest pieces, even the scabbard of the swords were similar. Yet you looked more charming, feminine, and gentler than Geralt could ever look, which made a lot of sense.

It could be felt that you’re going to the mountains shortly after - even if the sun got on the sky and the birds started to sing, the air was getting colder and colder. You had to cross three villages and a mountain pass to even get to the place of your contract - that could last a week if you’d be quick. Which certainly wasn’t your case since Jaskier was with you. And besides, you and Geralt had to look at the place where did all of the massacrings happened, and you had to speak with the survivors, which could be a difficulty on its own.

You had your suspicion about the monsters. It could be trolls or giants. But... This behavior wasn’t normal for either of them. Giants mostly didn’t even live on the Continent. Once you encountered one, it was on Skellige and you were glad that he didn’t notice you. And trolls... Yeah, they cooked people rather often, but they weren’t big enough to massacre a whole village and to break trees and stones apart. There was something fishy going on with this whole contract.

Most scared you were of the case that you would not have enough herbs to brew potions. Healers and herbalists could be hours, days, or weeks away and although it was just the start of fall, many rare herbs simply didn’t grow anymore.

To your surprise, you were stopping by the first village in the evening. It was getting cold, the sky was cloudy and the rain was about to break through any second. It was kind of normal when small kids started to yell and cry when they saw your pupils glow in the dark. Cows were running away, pigs shitted themselves. That was what being a witcher meant most of the time. Animals shitting themselves, usually being the first ones to notice you riding by. Then children crying and hiding behind their mother’s skirt since you were the scarecrow used when kids didn’t want to go to sleep. And at last, it meant a shit ton of disrespect and hatred from strange people.

The innkeeper was more or less quick with you.

“Are there any survivors from Makaham mountains taking refuge in this village, good man?” - You asked quietly, but at your question, the innkeeper shook his head.

“No, lady, we don’t have any folk from these poor villages ’ere. But if you’ll continue souther in the direction of Lyria and Rivia, you will surely find a village of Borin and Corin. There is the folk you search for.” - He answered, giving you two pints of ale for you and Jaskier. Geralt was sitting there with a pin of beer. As you mumbled a quiet thank you, you got back to your companion.

“Borin and Corin are the villages we need to visit next. Something tells me it will be already the territory of dwarves.” - You furrowed and sat down to the men, now waiting for the dinner you’ve ordered.

“Something about all of this doesn’t make sense.” - Geralt drank up and looked over the inn. It was calm, there was only one musician in the corner and most of the people didn’t even notice you. They surely weren’t provoking you, at least for that moment. Jaskier didn’t completely understand what you were talking about, but you hummed and nodded.

“Why would these rich Redanians hire us for a contract that is taking place in Mahakam? These mountains aren’t even in Redania, this isn’t Radovid’s concert nor theirs? And for a reason, I don’t trust that this is because they are worried that the monsters could ascend to their homeland.” - You nodded at Geralt’s suspicion, gently stroking your hair.

"Do you mean that this has something to do with the tension between Redania and Temeria?" - Jaskier asked all of a sudden, making you both interested. Geralt mentioned Jaskier to go on with his speech.

"People like you do not take interest in the normal people's problems," - Jaskier started, yet as soon as he saw Geralt raising his eyebrows and you shifting your position uncomfortably, his tone and expression changed drastically. - "Politically speaking, King Radovid is trying to take over Temeria, which is by cutting off its business and preferably killing off its king. Yet I think this has barely anything to do with this nonsense. It's just another bloody monster, killing everything that moves. You both know how these things go."

For a long moment, there was complete silence. Geralt was drinking his beer, so his furrowing face was hidden behind the bottom of the pint. His eyes were presumably closed as far as Jaskier could say. Your face was turned from the bard as well, but suddenly, after ten long minutes, you woke up from the trance. - "That makes sense. You aren't completely dumb."

"I can't be dumb when I am the biggest storyteller on the whole Continent." - The man in bright clothes jested playfully, laughing unbelievably.

"Although, I am not sure why would Skellige gave their consent to this. Honestly, I think all we are going to find will be some giants, piles of bones, old blood, and ghouls that were attracted to the place of massacre. Yet we can't just turn out horses back and drive to Redania just like that. Trying to accuse the king of buying giants, sailing them to Mahakam, and watching as they get out of your control... It is an amusing story and an impressive theory, but I don't think it would get us too far." - With that, you had Jaskier speechless, which didn't happen often.

It was rare to see witchers speak... Normally. You were talking in full-blown sentences that made some sense and told kind of a story. And it actually could be heard that you know what you're speaking about. Redania, political situation with Skellige, possibly bounded to Cintra and Temeria. One would never suspect that witchers could know so much about politics.

"But we can't be sure. Maybe the Devil sent his reign of terror to rule over Mahakam? Maybe we will find some undead, what can I know?" - You finished the speech, finishing the ale in one good swing. The truth was that witchers could not digest alcohol well, but they were good and grateful drunks. Whatever alcohol you would serve them, they would drink all of it.

As the last night, all of you went to sleep early. There was a long road ahead of you just to get to Borin and Corin and you weren't even thinking about some bad weather if a storm would meet you on the road, the journey could last additional week.

As far as you would talk about Jaskier or Geralt as your companion on the road, it wasn't exactly the best, but it wasn't the worst either. Jaskier could lift your spirits after you had enough forbearance to listen to his voice. His stories were pretty interesting, even if you were aware of how many of them were manufactured by the man. His facts about the monsters were mostly wrong, God knew what happened, but you at least smiled when his voice got the loudest and his eyes started to widen itself.

Geralt could at least hunt and prepare the fireplace when he wasn't exactly the most talkative from the bunch. He was mostly sitting there and prepared various potions and liniments. Your pouch was full of them already, yet Geralt was making some recipes you had never heard about. These recipes were unknown to you.

When the mist was settling down on the dawn of the fifth day, you were approaching the gates of Borin. Normal people were living there along with the dwarves, yet these villages couldn't be more different from the ones you would find in Redania or Kaedwen. There were mining shafts, members and ashes were flying in the air and there were only some conifers or bushes, normal flowers weren't growing where Borin was built. Some houses were built into small hills, only showing the door in the ground, some wooden cottages and houses could be seen and on the main square of the village, there was a monstrose fireplace.

For you, these villages were kind of a mystery. They never appeared as rich, neither they bounced above the abyss of poverty. Dwarves who lived in this town and who quarried inside the shafts exported their ores to Nilfgaard and the Northern Kingdoms, sometimes to Lyria or Rivia... Basically to anyone who had the best offer. Who paid the most got the best ore on the Continent.

And there were camps for the refugees who lived higher up in the Mahaken mountains. The tents were big and could fit at least ten to twelve people. A lot of fireplaces were started to the human beings and dwarves could warm themselves up.

"This is so terrible and ashaming." - A voice in your ear had woken you up from your thoughts. Jaskier was looking at the suffering people. And in his eyes were tears. Oh, you have forgotten. This man surely never saw how whole towns and cities... Sometimes even provinces or kingdoms looked after Nilfgaard raided it. There were dead bodies set on fire laid down next to roads, people hung up on the trees, buildings that were torn down, and cities that were fabricated.

That was mostly why you had to take roads that were leading through the woods. That was where elves, Cintrans, dwarves, and halflings were hiding. That was where most of the refugee camps were located. And the things there... You saw non-humans eating cooked parts of their friends because there was nothing else left to eat. Non-humans were killed, their clothes and poverties were stolen, their bones were cowardly buried in one big pit.

"They have something to drink, normal things to eat, and a place to sleep. I have seen way worse than this, bard." - You said quietly, getting off Chamberlain's back. As usual, witchers were the main interest of everyone. Yet this time, it wasn't meant to make you angry. Refugees and beings living in Borin understood that you are there to investigate.

Slowly, you walked to the refugee camp, having an emotionless expression on your face. You led Chamberlain just a few meters behind, still letting Jaskier sit on its back. - "Is there anyone who comes from the villages of Lhanbyrde or Hwen? I wish to speak to someone who saw what happened there."

Geralt was watching you with his eyes. That charm, calmness, and smile could be admirable. You politely asked the people if anyone saw what happened in the heart of Mahakam - Geralt would just randomly ask someone in his typical barbaric style, scaring them to death. Jaskier surely thought the same thing since he was already looking at Geralt with his eyebrows rose. This was the way to go.

"I, good lady, I saw what happened there." - A boy stood up immediately looked you in the eyes. The boy was about sixteen years old, he was pretty tall and too slim for his age, which could be caused by the events of the last few weeks. No matter what, he was too young to even see such horrors. A nod of your head was what made him talk about what he did see.

"It happened all of a sudden. We were sleeping, oy? And suddenly, fire and screaming filled the air. I heard bones breaking, I saw people bleeding out, I saw all of that. But these footsteps, fair lady..." - The boy gasped for air and looked away for a second.

For a second, you shot your look at Geralt, widening your eyes a bit. The giants you were talking about before. Dear lord, this was strangely exciting. - "Do tell, boy. What about these footsteps? What about them?" - You sighed and the corners of your lips curled upwards.

"I don't know what it was, lady, but the footsteps were... I have never heard anything more horrifying. It was... Like the sound... Of a gong. The land was shaking under the footsteps. Whatever it was, it was huge." - The boy told you and there were tears in his eyes. The memories sure were terrifying someone who wasn't a witcher, yet for a witcher, their memories were everything and more.

Quickly, you bowed to the boy and put up the emotionless expression once again. Chamberlain was still slowly driving behind you with Jaskier on its back. As usual, you booked a room inside the inn, ordered alcohol, and some food to eat.

Good thing was that now you were almost sure about the monster species. On the other hand, there was also the thing that you were most possibly about to die in a painful death. The other thing was... How did giants get into the middle of the Continent? As a lot of questions got answered, more of them raised from the darkness of mystery.

#the witcher #the world of the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #Geralt of rivia x female! Witchress #the female witcher #jaskier netflix #andrzej sapkowski #we stan a witchress #oh yes kween

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notyetneedcoffee · 5 years

Text

Soul Seer

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: None this Chapter, but later

Author’s Note: Takes place right after Avengers 1, with time travel elements and hints of Infinity Wars. Does NOT follow cannon after Avengers.

* * *

You stared at the locked door. The deep sinking feeling that you somehow royally screwed up made your stomach flop over. Sure, it was a nice conference room with interesting prints, comfortable leather chairs and carafes of coffee and water sitting full. You turned back to the tall dark wood door, a nice room with a nice locked door.

Staring at the lock, wondering why you’d been brought here only felt mildly less disturbing than taking in the view. From this high in Stark Tower, you could see the massive devastation from the attack. Debris from buildings and alien ships created a horrific landscape. No one knew how many bodies there were under all that concrete. No one knew how many were human and how many weren’t.

It all seemed too much. Aliens. The sky opened up and aliens poured through a portal earlier in the day. The sun’s rays were just beginning to wane, but the day already lasted a lifetime. You’d been working, thankfully, in a laboratory in the middle of the 23rd floor. Apparently, your office was completely open to sky now. One of the techs said the Hulk smashed straight through and squashed a contingent of alien intruders with your desk.

You glanced at the coffee, desperately wishing it was something stronger. You may not be much of a drinker, but a stiff whiskey would be good about now.

Instead, you stood and stretched to let go of some of the tension.

The lock clicked and you spun to the door. Tony Stark walked in. Only he didn’t look the same. It wasn’t the tiredness around his eyes or the difference in his hair. It was his aura. The normal brilliant sapphire and energetic shots of indigo looked fractured by spidery veins of painful crimson and foggy white.

He calls it your gift, you think it’s a curse sometimes. You could see auras, emotions, truth. You just saw more.

“Y/N, if I need you to do something,” Tony spoke with his jaw so tight, you barely saw it move. “something difficult, something terrible, but something that may prevent events even worse than today from happening in the future, will you do it? I can’t explain anything more, and you can’t tell anyone. Ever.”

You’d never seen such resolve from him. The weight of his request sat on your chest. It tasted like bitter coffee and tears. But underneath, buried deep, a flicker of hope pushed forth like winter crocus battling the snow to feast upon the sun. The generally driven, intelligent, yet jovial man you knew who craved instant gratification was gone. This was a different version, but Tony nonetheless, and he was asking for help.

“You know I would. I don’t know what’s happened, but ...” You stopped, not know the words to convey the depth of the sorrow you perceived. Hot tears spilled from your eyes. Tony stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you. He held on tight for a moment. You clung to him, whispering “I’m sorry.”

He jumped back, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Come on, Miss Y/LN, time for you to get to work.”

Stark led you to a section of the tower you’d never seen. You didn’t have clearance. Although Stark, and even S.H.I.E.L.D., put your talents to good use, your exposure remained limited. This was Tony’s R&D floor. Glancing sideways at him, he made an over exaggerated shushing motion and you nearly giggled.

At the end of the hall a wall of heavily armed men watched a door that looked more like the entrance to a high-tech bank vault. Likely it wasn’t too far from the truth. The men in uniform radiated aggression and fear, beating against you worse than heavy bass booming from broken speakers. Your steps moved a little closer to Stark.

“Hey there, Red Dawn, I’m taking my specialist in to see the out of town guest. Make sure room service doesn’t bust in, won’t you?” Tony wrapped the armed man nearest the door with the back of his knuckles.

“He’s in lock down.” The soldier shook his head.

“Listen,” Stark’s voice went hard. “I’ve had a really shitty day, so I don’t want to argue with you. This is my tower, you’re still on my payroll, and until Fury decides to roll up and butt his nose in, it’s still my show.” He activated the biometric lock and motioned for you to enter.

Inside a small observation room looked into another, empty except for a tall black-haired figure in green and black leather. He turned, staring at you with flaming green eyes. Your feet froze to the spot and your mouth went dry. In your sight, he shone like the terrifying fire of the sun.

“Do not worry.” A deep voice rumbled from the corner. “His shackles bind his magic.”

“I saw him on the news. He’s the one.” Your eyes still did not leave the captivating gaze of the prisoner.

“Loki.” Stark sighed.

Your head snapped around. You expected rage, fear, wrath. Instead a mournful, tired resolve poured off of him. “I don’t understand. He just attacked us.”

“My brother is not himself.” An enormous man stepped out from the corner. You’d only seen pictures, but recognized him as Thor. However, he too looked different than the news clips from earlier today. You had to avert your eyes. He radiated a crackling white light. It was like an arch welder. He must have misunderstood. “Please, I do not mean to offend. Do not doubt. He will answer for his crimes.”

“It’s not that.” You got a better hold on yourself and turned back to him. Thor’s presences reminded you of high mountain running water. Fresh and vital. “I wasn’t expecting you and it was a little blinding.”

“The mystical vision thing.” Tony waggled his fingers in the air.

“You can really see the true nature of someone? See the truth behind the lies?” Thor asked, leaning forward and taking your forearm in his giant hand. His touch felt hot.

“Yes.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

“We don’t have time for this.” Tony growled.

“You shine brighter than anyone I’ve ever met except for him,” You jerked your head towards the cell. “And the Ancient One who taught me to live with my sight.”

“Wait.” Tony cut in. “Ancient One?”

“When my brain tumor became terminal, I found her. She taught me to open up my sight, and by opening my sight somehow the tumor began to recede. It’s like I have to use that part of me, or it turns caustic.” You sighed, and gave Tony a small smile. “It sounds insane, but I always thought she was immortal or something. At least something more than human.”

“What of my brother?”

You looked, really looked, at Loki for the first time. Bright bluish silver bled to emerald in sharp spiky energy. It was not like Thor’s energy at all. It prickled like frozen fingers. Something else writhed around him, pulling at the more beautiful greens. It flowed from his head, deep violet and nearly opaque. Still, he stared at you with an unwavering glare.

“What more is he?” You asked, not looking away.

“Loki is a Prince of Asgard.” Thor began but you cut him off.

“Not that. I don’t know enough about Asgard to say for sure, but all people – all humans – have a similarity to them. He’s very different from you.” It just presented as a feeling. “He’s hiding his true face.”

“Uh, ‘cause he’s a liar.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“You can see that?” Thor breathed. “Can you see through his glamour?”

“Huh?” Tony spun to look at Loki.

“I’m not sure.” Allowing yourself to open up a little further and trying to ignore the sensations assaulting your perception from the men beside you, the sight of Loki began to shift. A bit like a double exposed photograph, there were two in the same space. The handsome, dark and dangerous man with pale skin and radiant green eyes hovered just above the exotic being with patterned blue skin and red eyes. On his angular features, it was the most alluring thing you’d seen.

“Blue.” You breathed. “Gorgeous.”

“By the Norns.” Thor smiled. “This might work.”

“Speaking of which,” Tony took your hand. “You’ve got to get busy. I’m gonna let you in on the secret.”

You listened, having trouble believing even though you knew he was telling the truth. Today marked a crossroads. One direction led to half of everyone, everywhere, disappearing into nothingness. The other was unknown, but was the one path that may avoid that fate. Tony didn’t tell you details, but long ago you learned to suppress the curiosity when answers would likely gain you nothing and cause other people pain.

“You’re not the same Tony who brought me coffee yesterday, are you?”

“That was a long time ago, kid.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath. Tried to sort it all out in your head. The last twenty-four hours changed everything. Nothing would ever be the same again. “What do you need me to do?”

“Something is influencing my brother’s mind. We need him to see clear enough to tell the Avengers what is really happening so that we may have hope to battle the true enemy.”

“Avengers?”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Us. You know, the mighty heros.”

“Alright.” You moved towards the door, but stopped when Tony grabbed your arm. “I have to go in there.”

“Then we will stay, as long as we can.” Thor nodded.

Your hands felt numb as you reached for the door. The ridiculous thought that you were thankful you’d worn jeans instead of a summer dress skipped across your mind. You felt stronger in jeans and boots. You entered the room, immediately noticing the window was one way. Loki had been staring directly at you through a mirror.

His chin rose, but his eyes trailed down your body and back up again. The corner of his mouth curved up. “Nice of them to send me such a lovely mortal to entertain me while I wait.”

“My name is Y/N.”

“I don’t care.”

Moving closer to him, cautiously, “I shouldn’t be here.” You felt his interest pique. “But I wasn’t going to let them stop me.”

He lowered himself onto the bench with slow control.

You took a step closer. “I am fascinated by what I see when I look at you.”

“What would that be, little mortal? An opportunity? Do you wish to serve your King?” He purred, deep and seductive.

“I see your brilliance, a life force like I’ve never witnessed.” A wicked grin spread across his face at your words. You now stood just of reach of his bound hands. “But there’s something unnatural clinging to you mind, dimming the shining aura you project. What can I do to rid you of this darkness?”

“Darkness!” Loki hissed viciously, leaning forward. “You know not of darkness, foolish girl.”

“It clings to your mind, flaring like an angry beast as we’ve spoken. While you stared at me through the mirror it was calmer.” You told him. “I can see it. It not you, not from you.”

“You know nothing!” He spat.

“Am I lying?” You made a calculated guess. “You’re the God of Lies. Am I?”

He stood with blinding speed. You couldn’t help the flinch, but didn’t back away. Loki leaned close, tilting his head, examining. The movements were feral, predatory. He smelled of something like cedar and leather. Up close you realized he looked equally beautiful and deadly.

“How?” Loki hissed, and you felt his breath on you cheek.

“I see energies, auras.” You whispered. “I’m an empath, and somehow at times I understand even more.”

Suddenly Loki’s mind smashed into yours. Like rough fingers digging into nerve sensitive flesh, it flashed with pain and you instinctively retreated. You heard his mental laugh. The severity of the situation wouldn’t allow you to back down, though. Knowing you could not fight, you surrendered. Breathing in the pain, you relaxed and opened up on the exhale.

He paused, thrown off guard.

Your eyes locked for a moment, before you closed your eyes and tipped your face closer to his. Again you whispered. “Am I lying?”

Loki’s intrusion felt less brutal, more cautious. He dug through your triumphs, your pain, your loves and your shame. The world as you knew it ended today. There was no point hiding. Your life was small, insignificant, in comparison to everything that happened. Everything that could happen. If Loki needed to see your mind to be convinced, then you would lay yourself bare.

You were lightheaded when he withdrew. Feeling cool fingers on yours, you opened your eyes. Loki’s face no longer held the fury from a moment ago. It’s been replaced with curiosity. “You are a very rare Midgardian. I thought all of your kind died out a thousand years ago.”

“Will you let me help you?” You clasped his fingers. His nostrils flared, the darkness failed around his aura, rabid and angry. “The fury you feel right now, that just happened, it’s not yours. Something happened to you. I just want to help.”

“I am here to subjugate your people.” A tendril of something close to shame broke the fierceness of his voice. “How many died by my hand today?”

“Don’t know. At this moment, I don’t care.” You gave him a sideways grin. “Come on, I’ve shown you mine. Show me yours.”

Loki tried to scowl, but a small genuine grin split his visage. “You’ve seen pain, Y/N. However, such agonies exist in my mind that your mortal body would never survive.”

“Please, Loki.”

“I don’t know what you think you will be able to do.” He trailed off.

“If we fight it together, I can help you identify what action it – whatever it is – takes. Let me help.”

“There are things I know.” He worked his jaw. “Secrets I have.”

“I’m not here to take your secrets. Any that come to me I will keep.” You knew Stark was probably loosing his mind over that statement, but you meant it.

“I do not have the control for what you suggest while these things are on.” Loki turned and looked at the mirror for the first time. “I could tear her mind apart without proper control. My mind is full of very strong defenses.”

The door behind you opened and Loki scowled hard. Thor walked in.

“New look.” Loki scoffed. “Doesn’t suit you.”

“If I remove your bindings, what assurance do I have that you won’t kill her and escape?” Thor frowned.

“Your army of toy soldiers in the hall are not enough?” Loki baited Stark.

“Loki.” You placed a restraining hand upon his arm.

He turned back to his brother. Many unsaid words stretched between them. Somehow, though, you knew they communicated their intentions nonetheless. Eventually, Loki’s eyes softened. “I swear on Mother’s life that I will do everything in my power not to hurt her.”

“And?” Tony rolled his eyes.

“I will not try to escape during this exercise.” Loki smiled devilishly.

“Yeah, well-“ Stark began, but stopped when Thor reached for Loki’s wrists. “Whoa, wait.”

“Loki would never swear against our mother. Never.”

As the bindings came off, Loki rubbed his wrists. “Now get out.”

“Listen, Reindeer Games…”

“Out!”

Thor pulled an anxious Stark from the room. Loki extended his hand in invitation. You accepted and allowed him to lead you back to the bench. Straddling the seat, facing one another, he pulled you close so your knees touched.

“You’re sure about this, little one?”

Every logical thought in your brain knew this was a bad idea, but your instincts knew it was imperative. “Yes.”

Loki’s long elegant fingers cupped your face, intimately as if he were about to kiss you. His skin felt cool against your flushed flesh. His eyes, now relaxed, danced with swinging emotions. You could almost see the battle raging within him.

“You may encounter a mental barrier before I consciously lower it. We may have to start again if that happens. I will do everything I can to resist the urge to lash out. Do not push if I’m fighting.” Loki instructed.

“Go slow. Stay low. Don’t be a threat. Got it.” Your lip twitched.

“Alright.” Loki sighed. “I’ll show you.”

Time lost all meaning as images, emotions, memories and primal urges blew about your mind like debris in a maelstrom. You quickly recognized that your mind saw the true Loki with sharp edges, while the other manifested in your minds-eye like dark gooey slime. The slime tried to latch onto you as you tore it free, but it was slippery and you flung it away. It vanished.

With determination, you mentally tore at the slime, wrenching it free of the pieces of Loki you contacted. Each touch making you feel fearful, disgusted, as it preyed on your own darkest instincts. Loki’s emotions and memories grew stronger as you pushed deeper into the storm. Images of worlds you’d never imagined, languages you didn’t recognize, people you’d never seen, you somehow knew through the connection.

Exhilaration and mischievous glee melded with acute curiosity and joy.

You pluck at one cluster of memory and Loki’s entire being roared. It vibrated painfully through you. The slime pulled, but you did not move, did not let go. The pain and anguish slashed out. You took it. You cried. The pain remained, but the screaming stopped. You mentally pulled the piece to your chest, wiping away the dark gunk bit by tiny bit. Each clean patch shown fresh and raw.

Loki’s voice howled through your mind. You wept and offered what soothing you could.

Horrid images flashed. Torturous burnings, painful cutting spikes, an alien purple face.

Piece by piece you continued. The agony retreated. Other memories came into focus, not all of them bad. Eventually, you could only pluck at the smallest remnants of the darkness that once covered everything. You felt Loki pull back, gently.

As you came back to yourself, you realized you felt Loki’s cool breath upon your neck. You held each other tight, your hands in his hair and his clutching at your back. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Tears, still flowing, poured from your eyes. Loki sighed almost imperceptibly.

You opened your eyes.

Standing there, staring dumbly, were most of the Avengers...including the Tony you knew from your time. The others were gone.

Moments later you were marched into a large, locked down interview room with a proper table and more chairs than it could accommodate.

“These really aren’t necessary, brother.” Loki held his hands out as Thor connected the bindings. “I promise I will sit through your interview as long as (Y/N) remains here.”

You sat in the chair beside him and fought the urge to put your head on his shoulder and nap. Bone deep exhaustion overtook you as soon as you’d pulled free of the connection. “Can we please get on with it?”

“Sure. Fine. I’ll start with the questions.” Tony threw his hands in the air. “What. The. Fuck.”

“I was sitting, seething away in my little cell, when your Soul Seer here wondered in. She said she sensed a malicious presence.” Loki grinned wickedly. “It wasn’t even me.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

“Explain.” Thor leaned closer.

“Hold on.” Natasha put a hand up. “Soul Seer?”

“I see auras, emotions, and other. . . things.” You sighed.

“Her mystical vision that Fury wants his grubby hands on.” Stark muttered.

“There was something tainting him.” You looked at Loki. “It was malignant, feeding off of every negative emotion, every bit of pain. Even when I touched it, I felt the urge to lash out. I’m not certain what it was, but it was strong and self-contained. It reminded me of a parasite.”

“Loki?” Thor dared to have the smallest glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“She’s right. I knew it was there, but - because of it - I didn’t care.” He paused for a long moment. “Thinking clearly now, I know the difference. There’s much we need to discuss.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you set loose an alien army on the city.” Steve Rogers frowned heavily.

“If Loki was under the control of an unknown entity, then-” Thor began.

“That’s according to just her.” Natasha cut in.

At the same time Tony cut off Thor, “We don’t even know what it is.”

The door opened and another man walked in. You gaped and pointed. “It was like that, just a hundred times worse.”

They all turned to Clint Barton, then slowly turned back to you.

“He has the same ‘stuff’ clinging to him. Only it’s more of a light gray not black, and there’s only traces. On Loki, it was black and invasive. It was-”

“The mind stone.”

“Very good, Banner.” Loki drawled. “I’m amazed you put it together.”

“You were the one turning everyone into meat puppets, Reindeer Games. Let’s not forget that.” Tony growled.

“Who turned the stone on you first?” Thor grabbed his brother’s arm.

Loki’s jaw clenched. He stared hard at the table, silent.

“Loki!” Thor growled.

You placed your hand on his clenched fingers. Slowly they released, instead taking your small hand in both of his. “Thanos.”

#loki x reader #loki fiction #loki fanfic

434 notes · View notes

caps-lockdown · 5 years

Text

Sweater Weather Part Four

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GUYS! If I’m being honest I fell out of love with this part pretty quick, and most of it is a filler chapter. There’s some flashbacks for the sake of plot, just FYI. Anyway I hope you all enjoy it!

Also I realize that some of the flashbacks may not completely add up to the actual timeline of films, so just ignore that. Thanks.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x PottsRelativeFem!Reader

Ratings/Warnings: R

For everything from language, crude jokes, ADULT situations/impure thoughts, booze (because it’s pretty much a staple in my fics at this point.), arguments, and an extremely overprotective Tony Stark. Very little angst, as I try to keep most of my fics light humored. But of course there are some insecurities/unsure feelings, as well as sad feels from everything with endgame/ the decimation. Also dead parents.

Also AU in the fact NO ONE DIED during Endgame/Steve didn’t go back. Also as much as I adore Morgan Stark, she isn’t around yet. I didn’t know where this would fit timeline wise, so just ignore the timeline. Kay? Cool.

Words: 5,442 (Ish)

Summary: You’ve just moved to New York after a long 3 year stint travelling the world and helping with various charities, taking a new job with Stark Industries thanks to your cousin Pepper. A trip out to surprise Tony and The Avengers for the weekend turns from good to terrible when the a/c at the compound breaks. How will you beat the heat for the record breaking weekend?

It’s in Y/N Y/L/N format, any pictures, outfits, gifs, and marvel characters just assume I don’t own them. Also no Beta, as I don’t ever have one, so the mistakes and reader are all my own. Enjoy!

Part Four

To say that dinner was awkward was the biggest understatement of the century.

Everyone sat at the table in silence, barely making eye contact with anyone else, the sound of scraping utensils and the nervous clearing of throats the only noises passing the time. You picked at your food, zoned out and trying not to acknowledge Tony’s sulking figure at the end of the table. True to your word you sat next to Steve, thankful for his large hand on your thigh and occasionally giving you a comforting squeeze. Or drawing circles on your knee to help keep you grounded, which you appreciated more than words could convey.

All of you had finished eating when Pepper decided to find her voice, setting her fork down with a large clang that made you jump.

“Alright. It’s been an hour and I’m sick of it. This silence is stupid. This whole fight between Y/N and Tony is stupid. I would kill both of you if I didn’t have so many witnesses here right now. So can we please try to find a way to get you two to freaking apologize? I didn’t keep you coming back a secret for nearly six months for nothing Y/N.” Your gaze became hazy at your cousin’s firm tone, feeling childish for how you had acted earlier.

“And you!” She glared at her husband, who already was appearing to feel two feet tall at the present, “Y/N isn’t even back for twenty four hours and you have to feel obligated to shove your way into her personal life?! She is an adult, who she decides to spend her time with is her business. Not yours. Her mother was suffocating enough when she was alive, she doesn’t need you to fill those shoes.”

“I’d pay to see Stark in heels.” Sam’s quip had you chuckling, remembering the sky scraper height of some of your mom’s footwear.

“I wouldn’t last twenty minutes in those things.” Tony’s quiet voice snapped your eyes to him, and you saw first hand how guilty he was truly feeling about the whole ordeal. “Pep’s right. Y/N I am sorry for how I acted earlier. You are an adult and even though I may not like the idea of you and…Steve” He said his teammate’s name almost painfully, swallowing a large gulp of his wine and staring at the two of you, “You’re both truly wonderful people and I won’t say I told you so if it goes down in flames. I love you short stack, I just want you to be happy.”

“Thanks Snark. I tolerate you for Pepper’s sake, and I will accept your apology only because we’re related. Also because I’m tired of seeing you look like someone burned down your lab with all of your suits locked in it.” Watching his face break into a small grin forced you to do the same, everyone clapping at the two of you morons and getting up to clear the table.

“So what’s the plan for the evening? It’s too hot to do anything strenuous.” Sam commented, the dishes cleaned and put away. Pepper had to sit on you in a chair to keep you from helping this time. Surveying the living room your mind began to work, your earlier activities with the air cooling inventions coming to mind.

“How about we move all of the fans and coolers into this room? It’s pretty much secluded and we can hang a couple tarps from outside on the doorways to help keep the air in? We can play a drinking game? Didn’t you say you had some of your mead with you Thor?” The blonde nodded as the rest of the group looked at you with astonished faces, Bucky coming to grasp your hands in admiration.

“If Rogers here is ever dumb enough to mess things up with you, know that I will make his life a living hell for losing someone so damn smart. Seriously, your amazing brain got a sister or somethin?” You giggled as Steve rolled his eyes at his friend, Sam and Thor leaving to grab the aforementioned tarps from outside.

“Watch it Barnes.” Your pulse lurched as the blonde nearly growled at his best friend, the brunette tossing a cheeky wink over his shoulder at him.

“What you gonna do Punk? Throw me into another wall?”

“SO THAT’S WHY THERE’S A DENT IN MY HALLWAY?!” You burst into laughter as Tony stared at the two men, hands on his hips and looking nothing short of annoyed. Bucky and Steve had the decency to avoid his gaze, muttering ‘sorry’s as the two men returned, making short work of duct taping shut one of the entrances to the room, you giving a thumbs up in approval. It’s like they had read your mind. All of you then returned to your rooms to grab your cooler and fans, well you only replaced the ice in yours. No way were you going to drag your giant chest all the way down the hallway. It had taken all of your strength just to dump out the cold water outside your low window. Yes you could ask one of the men to help you, but if you were being honest you didn’t want them to notice, not when your room was an easy twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the compound. Screw that. They were super heroes, you could have this one thing.

“Alright so what game we playing?” Bruce questioned after you had played “musical furniture” to help block the one doorway to help cease air flow on the one side, fans and coolers surrounding the room in a circular fashion, constantly circulating air in different directions. It was already feeling better by the minute, most of you pulling chairs to avoid sitting on the warm couches and love seats.

“I figured “Never have I ever”? We haven’t played that one since the wedding. We have a few years to make up for.” You shrugged, Tony agreeing with a loud “Hell yea!” that threatened to blow your eardrums out. You all made your drinks from the copious amounts of booze Stark and Pepper had brought from their stash in their suite, making a mental note to ask them about it later. They really should invest in building a bar in this place. Taking a seat next in between Sam and Nat, you smiled at Steve and Bruce across from you. Thor threw himself into a chair next to Bruce and Nat, Pepper was gladly the buffer between Tony and Steve. Bucky finished out the circle on Sam’s left putting him next to Tony. You should have known they’d be sitting next to each other, you were gathering that they were the duo of the group. Not that it bothered you.

“Alright as it is my building I’ll start us off.” Tony jumped on the claim to go first, all of you not even putting up a fight, eager to get to drinking this hot and sticky weekend away. “Never have I ever kissed a man.”

“Low blow honey.” You smiled as Pepper jabbed her husband in the ribs while taking a drink, you and Nat following suit. Everyone’s eyebrows raised to their hairlines as Sam took a drink from his glass.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We don’t want to know. My turn?” Pepper chuckled, looking at you with a smile. “Never have I ever gotten a speeding ticket.” You drank.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you, you shrugging as he thought of something to say. “Never have I ever shaved my legs.” The chorus of laughter rang loudly at Tony taking a drink with you ladies.

“Never have I ever had a hangover.” Bruce admitted, you staring at the large man bewildered as to how he could live through one of Tony’s parties.

“Alright, ahem never have I ever flown with the help of a suit.” Thor grinned as the respective men (and Pepper) took drinks from their glasses.

The game continued on, you finding out really fast that no one was wasting time holding back punches, the hours ticked by and before you could comprehend it you were mixing your fifth drink of the evening. The alcohol was making you sway to music that wasn’t being played anywhere but in your head as you crashed back into your chair, Nat leaning herself onto you for support as she took off her shoes. The group was well on their way to being properly sloshed, Tony and Pepper laughing at nothing with Sam and Bucky while Bruce and Thor went to move to the floor. All eyes moved to you as you waved your free hand in the air, trying to stay balanced on your seat.

“Ok my turn! Never have I ever saved the world!” Your words slurred, everyone groaning as you beamed at them, watching Steve finish his third glass of mead and a very pleased looking Thor refilling it without being asked.

“Alright Y/N.” Sam began, you lazily side eyeing him as he smirked. “Never have I ever kissed Steve Rogers.” You stared blankly into his brown eyes, missing Nat sneak a drink from her glass, the mentioned blonde man starting to develop a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “Seriously? I thought for sure you guys would have been playing tonsil hockey by now!”

“No we haven’t.” You said a little too quickly, heat rising to your face. “I would definitely know if we had. I have a feeling that kissing Rogers isn’t something a girl would ever forget.” Your voice was loud and you clapped a hand over your mouth, but the damage had been done. You tried not to look at Steve, his wide smirk making you want to drink yourself into a coma.

“Oh please don’t bring that up. I don’t want that in my head…too late it’s in my head now. Fucking thanks.” Tony wiped his face with exasperation, you snorting as Bucky went on to say he’s never been skinny dipping. You took a drink at that, the guys whooping and hollering and asking for the story of how that happened.

“Highschool. Cheerleaders…dared some of us band geeks to do it during senior day. They stole our clothes while we were in the lake, so we had to call our parents. My mom lectured my ass for two hours when she showed up.” You were in a fit of giggles by the time you finished, Pepper joining in as you fell off your chair and onto the floor, Steve looking concerned for a split second until you erupted into more giggles.

“I think Y/N’s cut off for the night.” Sam mentioned, you bringing your face into a small pout before giving up within a few seconds to giggle again. Your body was buzzing from all of the liquor, and you knew you had to stop before you made a giant idiot out of yourself.

“Shaddup Sam, I’mma be fine.” Yea that was you stopping.

“Never have I ever had sex!” Tony exclaimed, the attention being taken from you to look at the obviously drunk billionaire. “I just wanted to take a drink, I’m totally lying.”

“Ya don’t say?” You cast a knowing look to Pepper that made her duck her head down, taking a rather long draw from whatever concoction Tony had made her.

“Guys…guys it’s…it’s two in the morning. Holy shit. “ Bruce looked at his wrist watch in shock. Time had flown by and though you were having an amazing time, sleep was going to start claiming victims before too much longer. You steadied your wobbly legs as you stood up from the floor, holding onto your vacant chair for dear life as the room started spinning.

“I’m going to go the bathroom.” Steve said rather loudly, jumping up to his feet and downing the contents in his cup before walking out of the room. You smiled drunkenly at all of your friends, giving them a mock salute with the hand that wasn’t still grasping the metal frame of your seat.

“I think that’s my cue to get some sleep. Night all.” You waved, confident you could make it back to your room without any incident as you stepped away from them with ease. It was going great until you managed to trip on a fan cord, thankful Thor had been nearly right behind you and managed to catch you from eating the carpet.

“Let’s get you to the safety of your bed before you hurt yourself.” His deep voice jolted you from slipping into sleep standing up, managing a lopside smile with a short nod. You allowed the god of lightning to walk you carefully to your room, letting him tuck you into your bed and placing your phone on your nightstand, making sure it was plugged into the charger. You reached out to grip one of his massive arms, a warm smile on your lips.

“Thanks….Thor. You’re the…the best.” You mumbled as he patted your head affectionately, you falling asleep as soon as he flipped the light switch.

“Y/N pass out?” Steve asked when the blonde returned to the group, everyone deciding that they would sleep in the living room where all the cool air was.

“Yes she is most certainly asleep. I’d wager she could sleep through an entire alien invasion with how much she’s consumed tonight.” Thor laughed, Steve looking happy to hear you had no trouble slipping off into dream land. “Luckily her room is like an ice box.”

“You gonna go keep her warm Agent Smolder?” Bucky joked. “Am I going to have to stay up and make sure you don’t go and sneak off into her room later?”

“LA LA LA I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” Tony interrupted Steve’s next words, covering his ears in a poor attempt to shield himself from having to take in the conversation. They watched with amusement as the man shoved one of the couch pillows over his head as he and Pepper got comfortable, Nat taking the loveseat and stretching out.

“Guess that leaves us the floor then huh Buck?” Steve sighed, eyes rolling as Sam loudly began snoring from his passed out position on the last small couch in the room. Bruce had taken the large recliner Tony had built for him, and Thor was slumped against the far wall, slowly drifting off, his stein still half full of mead.

“Looks like it Captain Cutie!”

“When will you stop with those stupid code names?”

“When you finally ask Y/N out. Or make some kind of move! You waiting on the leaves to change colors or something?” The brunette shoved at his friend’s large shoulder before laying down on the ground, reaching to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. “A dame that looks like that will have guys beating down her door once she gets settled. You better not let them get that chance, not when I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Goodnight Bucky.” Steve muttered, turning away from his friend after removing his own shirt and placing it next to the pillow Nat had thrown him.

“Goodnight Stevie.” The brunette cooed, both of them slowly succumbing to tipsy slumber.

~~~~A couple hours later~~~~

Steve’s bloodshot eyes shot open at the inescapably deafening snores that ripped through the living room in the wee hours of the morning. He sat up with a soft moan of discomfort, deciding that he would rather roast alive than have to listen to this for another moment longer. His gaze wandered to the empty loveseat, knowing full well Nat had gotten sick of the blaring assault on her ears as well. He stumbled slightly towards the hallway, remembering his shirt when he entered it. He waved it off and began his trek down the hall. He’d get it in the morning. Coming up to his room he jiggled the handle to find it wouldn’t budge.

“Friday…my door won’t open.” He went to shove at the door, the outcome the same as before.

“Captain Rogers that’s because it’s not….”

“Open my damn door Friday I want some sleep!” The blonde huffed at the AI, jiggling the handle again like a child. He was drunk, tired, and did not have time for this.

“Language Captain. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The door opened and Steve not too gracefully stumbled in, immediately noticing how much colder it was in his room when it shut. Huh, he was certain he had taken his fan Y/N made him into the living room. Maybe she had made him another one and managed to get it in there earlier in the evening. Yes that had to be it. He could hear it circulating now, the cool breeze floating through the air as he made his way deeper into the darkness.

“Damn!” The curse fell out of his lips as he stubbed his toe on what he was assuming was his dresser, which had magically shrunk in height. Weird. He ran a hand through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was right where he left it at least, in the middle of the room. His mind wandered to you, how nice you had been to make him another cooling unit for his room. You were so selfless and kind, always helping others before yourself. It was remarkable really. You had lit such a fire within him too, and he had to stop himself multiple times this weekend from doing exactly as Bucky had suggested and shoving you up against the wall and making you forget your own name. He had it bad, but then again he always had. You just weren’t someone he ever thought he deserved before.

Flashback, May 8th 2012

“Well that was a total bust.” Steve’s heart stopped temporarily as he felt you slump into the couch next to him, you taking out pins that were holding up your fancy updo with contempt.

“That bad huh?” He asked, trying to ignore the fire dancing in his veins as your arms brushed against each other in your hastened attempt at tearing your jewelry off.

“All he wanted to talk about was his ex-girlfriend! I left before dessert. I was really looking forward to that stupid cheesecake.” You muttered angrily, running your hands through your hair. The battle of New York had set you on edge, not wanting to be alone the next time the world decided to have a crisis and trying your hand at dating. Steve was silently extremely happy it hadn’t worked out. Mostly because he didn’t want to see you with anyone besides him. Just thinking about…what was his name again…made his blood boil.

“Didn’t he have a weird name?” He allowed his arm to drape behind you on the couch as you scooted closer to him, taking the remote and popcorn from the coffee table and flipping the channel. Steve hadn’t been watching it anyway, the only reason he was even awake was because of you. He hated admitting it, even to himself but the thought of you out having a good time, laughing at some other man’s jokes, or god forbid flirting with him had given the Captain a rather unhealthy case of insomnia leading up to the date. And they had just saved the world from Loki.

“Kelly. From work. This is why I don’t date coworkers.” You sighed with another shake of your head, deciding on Princess Bride that was halfway through its broadcast. His breath hitched as you snuggled into his side, the two of you laughing away your sour mood. He loved your laugh, how musical it was. Actually he didn’t think there was anything he didn’t love about you, even if he hadn’t known you a long time. You had only moved here a few months ago, your parents passing away in a car accident and leaving you extremely lost. Pepper of course took you in, and you got on with Steve like gas on a fire.

“Thanks for being here Rogers. I know you don’t have to be and I’m sure you could use the sleep since you just saved the world and all. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t mention it Doll. Glad to help. Just don’t wake me up if I fall asleep.” His heart soared as you gave him a bright smile.

“Then don’t snore.”

The two of you fell asleep together on the couch before the end credits played, you cuddling into his side and his arm draped around you.

November 2015

“I swear to god Tony you ever pull a stunt like that again and I will murder you!”

“I was just trying to help!” The brunette man snapped, Steve chuckling from the dining room table as he watched you and Pepper try to wave away the giant mushroom cloud that was emitting from the stove. The smoke detectors blared viciously as Thanksgiving was proving to be a disaster at the Tower. It hadn’t been too long ago since they had defeated Ultron, the team deciding that they would try to have a giant Thanksgiving day meal to reconnect with each other. Truth be told he had been looking forward to seeing you the most, your new article writing job taking up most of your time as of late. He didn’t mind, he was super happy for you pursuing your dreams. Your bubbly personality made you tons of friends in college, and people weren’t wrong to love you at your new job too.

“THEN STAY OUT OF THE DAMN KITCHEN!” Both of you yelled in union, pushing the older man out of the room and into the dining area, Steve shaking his head as Tony attempted to look hurt. He didn’t take long to snap out of it, helping the Captain with setting the table. Sam and Nat were soon to enter, each carrying a dish of some sort. Clint had chosen to stay with his own family for the holidays, and after everyone had met them, the blonde avenger could understand why. He wished he would one day have a family like that, especially after seeing Peggy again. You of course were being super wonderful about the whole situation, offering to get coffee with him after he would see her, just to listen to him talk about a woman who wasn’t you. You always felt just a bit jealous at how his face would light up as he recalled one of her good days, and how much it hurt to see him after one of her bad days. You couldn’t pinpoint why you felt that way, you just did. You and Steve had only grown closer as the years had gone by, but it had become pretty clear to you that he only saw you as a friend.

Friends always responded to your S.O.S texts about Tony like he did. Even now as you entered the dining area carrying the only slightly scorched turkey to the table, he was the perfect friend and immediately reached to help you. He followed that movement with pulling out a chair next to him for you and passing you a glass of your favorite white wine that not even Tony or Pepper had remembered to grab. Friends do that.

“This looks amazing Doll, you and Pepper always knock it out of the park. I’ve missed you.” You flashed him a prideful smile as he set his large hand over yours, giving it a slight squeeze. “Missed seeing that smile too.”

Yeah. Friends.

2016

Peggy Carter’s funeral had been over for nearly two hours by the time Steve finally took a moment to check his phone. His eyes were burning from the tears that had fallen during the course of the day, and for once he wasn’t sorry that he had ignored everyone’s attempts at getting a hold of him. That was, until he saw he had a text message from you. Navigating the notification window on his phone with shaking hands he brought up the communication window, pressing the download button on your conversation bubble and waiting for it to load. He was always amazed at how fast modern technology was, the large sum of words popping up within a small fraction of time, his eyes squinting slightly through the pain and reading what you had sent.

“Hey Cap. I know I can’t be there today with you, and I want you to know how much that is killing me. Nat and Tony have filled me in with everything going on, and I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. About everything.” Steve scoffed at you mentioning Stark, the terms of which he and the other avenger had left things a few days ago were less than friendly. This entire accords situation was absurd, at least in his eyes, and he couldn’t wait for your cousin in law to get his head out of his ass. He wasn’t so sure that would ever happen though.“I know you will never ask me to pick a side, and Snark has been smart enough not to ask either. I don’t know all of the details but I do know neither of you can ask me to choose one of you over the other. Not that you would. You’re one of the best people in my life, and I’ll personally be super happy when all of this blows over and I can see you again. Tony pretty much has me under lock and key here, even Pepper is getting sick of it. In case things go sideways, which it’s looking pretty damn likely with my dumb ass cousin involved, please know that I’m here should you need me. I’m and phone call away and you know where I live. If I’m not there you know about the gnome. Anytime. No questions asked. Stay safe for me Steve, Y/N” He would never take you up on that offer, things turning from bad to worse really quick for The Avengers. He never did get to tell you how sorry he was for not responding to your text, or tell you how much it meant to him.

2020

The room was noisy and filled with happy drunk people celebrating the union of Pepper and Tony Stark. You stood in your simple light blue dress, looking on at the simple affair with thankful eyes. They had gotten lucky with the Decimation, still managing to have each other after everything. Your heart ached for Clint and Steve, knowing they had lost the ones who mattered most to them, and you were exceptionally thankful you still had your cousin, well now cousins.

You hadn’t seen much of Steve since the snap, and had heard from him even less. Not that you held that over him, you knew him and Tony still weren’t on good terms, and you couldn’t blame him for staying away. Still, you had wished you would have gotten to see him before you left.

“Hey Short Stack look who made it!” You moved to look at Tony, who was holding a very stunning Natasha in his arms, your smile reaching your eyes as you went to hug her tightly. Most of the team had gone their separate ways when they failed to defeat Thanos, so you were more than elated to see your other favorite red head on your last night in town.

“Heya Nat! I’m so glad you could be here!”

“Of course Y/N. I wouldn’t miss your send off, and the free drinks. Congrats you two.” You laughed as she wasted no time taking a champagne flute off of a passing tray, taking a long sip and linking arms with you as the newlyweds were dragged away again. “Have you heard from Rogers?”

“No, should I have?” Your eyes narrowed in question while Natasha shook her head in annoyance.

“That man. I told him to reach out before you left us. I literally just told him today when I saw him at the meeting! I know he really does miss you Y/N.”

“He has a funny way of showing it Nat. Don’t sweat it, you tried.” Patting your friend on the shoulder you took your phone out of your clutch, seeing Kate had texted you to remind you about the drink plans you had made for tomorrow on the way to the airport before you caught your flight to London. Nothing from Steve. “How about a picture? You look amazing and I need some more photos on this new phone to keep me company while I’m gone!” She agreed and you quickly flipped your camera app open, capturing a few last moments with your friends and family. The rest of the night was a blur as you danced and drank, looking forward to whatever your future would bring.

The next day at the airport was hard. You were thankful you hadn’t worn an ounce of makeup, crying easily as Kate, Tony, Pepper, and Nat all said their goodbyes to you. You had watched them pull away from the drop off curb with blurred vision, your heart breaking at the acknowledgment that you were really leaving. Off to help various countries with varying charities. It was the least you could do during this awful time in the world.

“Y/N!” You turned your head slowly, your breath being sucked out of you as you recognized the familiar head of blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes moving for you in the crowd. You hoisted your backpack higher onto your shoulder, nerves getting better at you as you tried to offer a small smile. You hadn’t seen him in months and he still managed to have this effect on you. Willing yourself to pull yourself together you bit back a laugh as he almost looked winded, reaching your standing figure with slightly labored breathing. “I had to see off my best girl.”

“Please. I haven’t been your best girl in years Steve. But I appreciate it all the same.” You smiled, your heart breaking as he looked down at the pavement shyly.

“Listen about that…”

You were quick to cut him off, “Don’t worry about it Cap. You did what you had to do, and you’ve been through a lot over the years. No hard feelings.” Your voice was flat, and he grimaced at the tone of indifference. He was literally screaming at himself, internally demanding that he just man up and kiss you. Tell you how sorry he was for everything, how you were, are still the most amazing person in his life and how he wants to start over. Beg for your forgiveness and promise to take care of you. Anything to stop you from getting on that plane and disappearing from his life for who knows how long. “I should get going, customs is going to be a drag.”

“Right. Well have a good flight. Don’t stay away too long.” He’d kick himself for the rest of his days, seeing you give him one of your giant smiles, although he could tell you didn’t fully mean it, and step towards him to initiate an awkward hug. It felt rushed and forced, but he would be lying if he hadn’t wanted it to last longer than a few seconds, missing the way your body would just melt into his just like they did in days of old.

“I’ll miss you most of all.” His ears perked up at your small admission, the sentence being no louder than a careful whisper, watching you blink back tears and grip onto the shoulder of your bag tightly. He’d miss you more, knowing full well part of his heart was getting on that plane with you. But he said nothing, just smiled and gave a small wave to your retreating figure, watching you until you were completely out of his line of sight. You hadn’t looked back once, but the tears that clung to the corners of his eyes made him partially glad you hadn’t.

~~~Now~~~

The memories faded and Steve wiped at his eyes sleepily, the mead Thor had given him proving more potent than he had remembered, his body falling hard onto the side of the bed. It had made a noise that had almost sounded like a sigh, the man shaking his head in drunken disbelief. How crazy would that be? A bed can’t sound like a person. He stayed on his side, staring into the darkness as it began to swallow him.

The last thing that went through his mind before he fell asleep was how much his pillow smelled like you.

Tag List: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more @chrisevansfanfic @yesno18 @zsuzstyina @zombiepotterfour @evanstush

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #avengers #marvel fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers #fanfic #steve rogers x y/n

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minhoslut · 4 years

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♡ summary: Y/N is a fairy in a world of magic hating humans, who moves into a house with seven young men after being kicked out of her old dorm. She learns about all their secrets while hiding hers for as long as she can. Lots of parties, games, sex and maybe even love.

♡ pairing: ot7 x fem!reader, fem!reader x various idols

♡ chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | ? |

♡ series warnings: alcohol consumption, blood mention, drug use, mxm, fxf, threesome, foursome, orgy, swearing, anxiety, depression, past trauma, past abuse

♡ series genre: fluff, smut, slight angst

♡ series rating: R

♡ word count: 2041

♡ posted on: AO3

♡ chapter six: now what?

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar room, curled into the body of a man with a mop of pink hair on his head. Jin. Last nights escapades returned quickly and you sighed, looking around the room. The four-poster bed was huge, with white sheets accented with gold. In fact, that seemed to be the theme of the whole room, the side tables, the vanity, and the wardrobe were all a similar cream with gold decals . It was pretty, and it smelled just like Jin. Speaking of, he was dead asleep, and you wanted a shower. Remnants of Jins orgasm were drying on your bare body and it was less than pleasant. The issue now was finding the clothes that had been tossed who knows where and making it to the bathroom. You managed to slip out from the sheets and started looking around the room for your missing garments.

You eventually gave up on your own clothes and threw on the oversized white shirt Jin had been wearing last night. Tiptoeing out of the room and up the stairs to your own, you managed to not bump into anyone else. Probably passed out , you mused. Grabbing an oversized pink sweater, some undies, and a pair of white thigh-high socks, you headed to the bathroom and drew a bubble bath. Once it was filled and you were satisfied with the temperature you pulled off Jins shirt and lowered yourself into the tub. The warm water began to relax your sore muscles immediately, last nights activities had worn you out more than you had thought.

As you ran over everything that had happened last night, you bit your lip slightly. It really had been so sexy, Chungha was stunning and you wished you had gotten her info. Jin probably has it. Speaking of Seokjin, you really hoped that he wouldn’t act weird. The boys had started getting comfortable with you and you didn’t want that to change just because you had boned one of them. You sighed as you began to scrub your body, it’s not like you can change anything now, what’s done is done. You paid extra attention to your shoulders, the spots where your wings grew were feeling tender for some reason. Maybe I’ll mix up some pain-relieving tea.

After rinsing all the soap away, you dried off and pulled the sweater on, letting it fall to mid-thigh. Your white high waisted panties might end up exposed but you didn’t really care, you chuckled while sliding your socks up over your knees. You put your white locks up into a high ponytail with a black scrunchie and left the bathroom. Skipping down the stairs, you bounced into the kitchen and began to gather the ingredients for pancakes, aka the perfect hangover brunch. Playing your 1 of 1 album by SHINee quietly off your phone, you sang along softly as you mixed everything together. After pouring the first batch on the grill you began to cut up some fruit, then set the table. Just as you were putting the fluffy golden-brown pancakes on the plate, Jungkook walked into the kitchen.

“Morning.” He mumbled sitting down at the table and ruffling his hair sleepily. He blinked a few times before looking at you eyes wide. “You made us pancakes? Are you an angel, oh my god, marry me?” He said in a much too serious tone that had you laughing over the grill. “Maybe one day if you’re lucky~” You teased, flipping the second batch and then moving to boil some water. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jimin came down then, singing your praises as they sat at the table and began to serve themselves. You felt a hand on your waist, and turned to find Taehyung, who had also come down with Yoongi, and was being flirty as always.

Now that all the pancakes were cooked you joined the rest at the table, at the same time Jin also sat at the table. Everyone conversed happily as they ate, discussing the party and their various levels of hangover. When everyone was done, Jimin turned towards you. “Thank you for making us food all the time Y/N! You’re the best~” He cooed blinking his impossibly long lashes at you. You blew him a kiss, “Anything for my boys.” Taehyung smirked, “Your boys huh? When did that happen?” You tapped your chin and pretended to think hard, “The day I walked in here.” You settled on a bright smile on your lips, which was soon mirrored by seven others.

“It was so smart of me to suggest we get another roommate.” Jin said crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair. “Your idea? Since when?” Yoongi said laughing with the other boys at Jins claim. “Namjoon was the one who did everything, and he suggested it in the first place!” Jungkook added. “So what! It’s my house so really I have the final say, so you better be grateful.” Jin said turning up his nose. “Seokjin, we’ve all lived here for like, ever, so don’t even try that.” Hoseok snorted, standing up and clearing everyones plates. Jin, mature as he is, stuck out his tongue but joined Hoseok in cleaning up. Jungkook filled the sink and Jimin stood by with a towel ready to dry the dishes as they were washed. Taehyung settled on returning the ingredients you had pulled out to their homes.

“Ah~ Really having so many roommates is nice! At my old place, I always ended up doing the cooking and cleaning.” You said, making a face at the memory. “Your old roommates don’t sound very good.” Namjoon said, shaking his head, you grimaced, They didn’t know the half of it. “Well if they had been great, I would have never come here, so in a way, it was a good thing.” You said with a smile. The familiar anxiety that always came when you thought of your old home began to settle in your stomach, prompting you to announce that you’d be going for a walk.

You tried to ignore the slightly confused looks you received from a few of the boys, slipping on some shoes and heading out the back door.

The air outside was crisp, and the sun was peeking out from behind a few fluffy white clouds. You took a deep breath and headed down the same way you had the first time. Humming to yourself as you walked, you tried to shoo the horrible memories of your previous home out of your mind. It was frustrating that you couldn’t seem to shake them, you had tried many spells but trauma had always been quite magic resistant. The underlying gnawing in your stomach is always present but worsens at times like this when you feel pulled back into your past.

Times like this made you wonder if life was even worth it. It was tiring, hiding your true self. You often worried that you would never find someone whom you’d want to spend the remainder of your life with. If you did, would they accept you? If they were human they would die much earlier than you, so would you even try? These questions plagued your mind and clouded the future. You felt yourself start to cry and began to run farther into the woods, letting the wind whip your tears away. The world was a blur of green as you ran, your feet pounding on the moss and dirt-covered ground.

You didn’t know how long you ran, but you came to a stop when you found a huge tree with long and wide branches. Beginning to climb the tree, you tried to focus on your steps rather than your crowded thoughts. You climbed about midway up the tree, still under the cover of the forest but higher than most humans could get too. There was a breeze up here and you pulled your knees into your chest while you sat on the branch, resting your head atop them.

You wished for a different world, one that was without prejudice. Your heart had broken the day you had been told to leave your village, only to be shattered once more when your roommate had betrayed you. You had loved her so much, the two of you had always spent the most time together out of all your roommates. The five of you had been so close, yet they had thrown it all away in an instant just because you were a fairy. You curled tighter into yourself, tears returning to your eyes. Why did nobody want you for who you were?

You sat in the tree for a while longer before jumping down and making your way back to the house. When you got there you found Seokjin, Jungkook, and Taehyung messing around in the pool. “Yo Y/N! You ready for round two of the party?” Taehyung called, pushing his blue hair out of his face. “You can bet your ass I am!” You answered laughing slightly as you watched Jin shove Jungkook under the water. “Join us, the waters perfect~” Jin said a small smile dancing across his lips, “I think I will actually, be right there!”

Up in your room, you pulled out a baby blue high waisted bikini bottom and a matching rectangle top with spaghetti straps. Pulling it on and grabbing a towel, you returned to the pool and jumped right in. The water was the perfect temperature as it wrapped you in its welcoming arms, making you smile to yourself. Coming to the surface you shook the water off your face and threw yourself onto Taehyungs back. “Gotcha~” You teased, holding around his neck lightly, feeling his back muscles against your chest.

“No fair, why hug him?” Jungkook whined from the headlock Jin had him in, apparently, they hadn’t settled their play fight quite yet. “Jealous Kook? Come here and get me then!” You said with a flirty wink. “I’m wounded that you’d leave me so easy doll~” Taehyung said wiping a fake tear from his eye. “You’ll have to keep me away from him then I suppose.” You shrugged, sticking your tongue out at him cheekily.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist and you shrieked as Jungkook pulled you off of Tae. “Success!” Jungkook cheered carrying you over to the deeper end. You couldn’t stop your laughter as Taehyung chased after the two of you, faking slow motion. You saw Jin shake his head and let out a laugh of his own before joining Taehyung in his oh so slow pursuit of rescuing you back from Jungkook. Somehow you ended up in Jins arms, princess style, while Tae and Kook were having a pool noodle sword fight. “They are absolute five-year-olds I swear.” Seokjin muttered, making you nod in agreement.

“By the way Y/N, I just want you to know that what happened last night doesn’t change anything.” Seokjin said, his tone turned serious. “None of us really view sex as something that changes a relationship, other than the sex itself, and if the parties are both in agreement more closeness or flirtiness. I don’t want you to be worried, and I’m fairly certain from what I know about you so far, that you feel a similar way.” You leaned your head against his broad chest, “I do have pretty much the same view. I want all of us to stay close and comfortable, and for me, sex is just something that happens when there's mutual physical attraction. I’d love to be flirty and close with all of you like I’ve said I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable.” You felt him give you a squeeze, letting you know he heard.

It was like a huge weight had been removed from your chest, knowing that the boys felt the same way you did. “You can share the message with the others, and I don’t mind if you talk about what we did with them. I have a feeling I will end up with all of you at some point but don’t tell them that yet.” Jins laugh made your own body shake, “You really are a unique person Y/N, I’m glad it was you who joined our little group.”

#bangtanhq #bts #bts x reader #bts polyamory #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #park jimin #min yoongi #kim taehyung #everything is not what it seems

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fandom-imagines-stories · 7 years

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He Can’t Hurt You Now

Dr. Lance Sweets x Reader

Words: 3884

Parts: 1 Promise, 2 Don’t You Dare Let Her Die

Summary: Although you’ve been released from the hospital, your recovery is just starting. Scars are a constant reminder of what you’ve been through and cause you to be very self conscious. Memories of Marty and the repair shop haunt your dreams, making it nearly impossible to sleep. Lance begins to notice your unease and does his best to help you.

Note: I know I said there would only be two parts, but I simply couldn’t resist. I really want to showcase Lance and the reader’s relationship and how they are as a couple so I hope that shows through. (Also I threw in a little reference to a later plot in the show, let me know if you catch it. This is the time period when this character is in the show, but I thought it would be cool to incorporate them as an almost introduction.)

Your over stuffed duffle bag fell to the floor with a loud thud. Lance’s apartment was dark and quiet. You were having trouble deciding if it was comforting or eery. Lance flipped the light on as he entered behind you.

“Home sweet home, right?” He said, but it wasn’t hard to see that he was uncomfortable with the situation. He kissed your cheek as he shuffled passed you, turning on the lights in the kitchen and hallway. He turned around to face you, noticing that you hadn’t moved at all. “You okay?” You blinked, fixing your gaze on him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied. As you had climbed up the stairs to his apartment, you thought about the last time you were here. The feeling of the gun pressed into your neck, the sound of Booth’s shouts, the thought of never seeing Lance again. You looked down at the glittering ring on your finger to remind yourself that you were okay. You were more than okay. You were engaged to the most wonderful person you knew and you were completely in love with him. That, for now, was enough to keep yourself sane.

“Hey, are you hungry?” Your fiance called from behind to open fridge door. “I think I have some leftover pizza in here.” He pulled out a box and opened it, sniffing it’s contents before recoiling away. “Oh god nevermind!” He threw the box into the garbage and you giggled quietly.

“It’s fine. I think I just want some coffee.” You shrugged. “The hospital didn’t have the best.” He nodded in agreement.

“I know what you mean. It tasted kind of like mud didn’t it?” He started making the coffee as you walked slowly into the living room, sitting down on the sofa and checking your phone for messages. There were plenty from Booth asking if you had made it to the apartment safe, one from Dr. Brennan asking if you felt any aches and if she should come over to make sure you were alright, and one from Angela telling you to not go overboard on celebrating the engagement. You laughed and typed back. No promises.

You picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels. The first station you landed on was the news.

“It is confirmed that the notorious serial killer Martin Keller was killed in a face off with FBI Agent Seeley Booth after capturing Booth’s partner on the case newcomer Agent Y/F/N Y/L/N. Agent Y/N is in stable condition and will be returning to the bureau soon. The public can rest safely knowing that this monstrous killer is dead.” The remote left your hand and Lance turned the TV off, handing you a mug of coffee.

“Thanks.” You muttered, gripping the ceramic cup, letting it warm your hands. “I guess everyone knows what happened now.” Lance sighed, wrapping his arm around you.

“They all know that you survived a serial killer. That you have been through something awful and some may say that logically, you shouldn’t have survived. But you pulled through it.” His hand rested against your cheek, caressing your face lightly. “You are the toughest person I have ever met. You aren’t going down without a fight.”

“Have I told you how happy I am that we’re getting married?” You sighed happily, hoping to drop the subject.

“Actually, you did more than just tell me when you were really high on hospital drugs.” He snickered.

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you?” You groaned. You accidentally flash one doctor and you were marked for life.

“Nope.” He leaned towards you, but you put a finger firmly on his lips.

“I am not that easy, Dr. Sweets.”

“You didn’t say that at the hospital.” He smirked. “You were begging me to-”

“I was also in a lot of pain from being carved open like an operation game.” You sassed. “So I don’t think you should be making fun of me.” He held up his hands.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” This time you leaned in towards him until your lips locked, slipping his jacket off his shoulders. “Are you sure this is okay? Aren’t you a little, oh, I don’t know, fragile?”

“What happened to being the toughest person you know?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Just shut up.”

The room was dark except for a single light shining down on a wide table. Blood pooled around the metal legs. The body lying pale on the table was nearly unrecognizable, but somehow, you still knew who it was.

“Angela!” You screamed, as the light above her flickered off. You rushed towards it, but stumbled upon nothing but the cold air. A familiar laugh rattled through your bones, filling every corner of your mind with undeniable fear.

“Where are you, you sick son of a bitch!” You called out and to your horror another light turned on. His hands were cuffed to a chain that suspended him in the air, blood dripping down from his feet. Words were carved into his chest.

“What have you done?” Marty’s voice read and you jumped away from the feeling of hot breath on your neck. You rushed towards Booth, trying desperately to free him of the binding. He flinched away from you.

“What are you doing here, kid?” He asked, shaking his head in panic. “Run!” The chain jerked him backwards, soaring away from you.

“Booth!” You called but your voice was drowned out by someone screaming. Your heart stopped. “No…” Your heart started pounding with every running step you took. “Not him. Anyone but him.” The pained cries clawed your senses as you searched desperately for their source.

One final spotlight turned on, revealing Marty standing above Lance, who was strapped down to a table while Marty twisted a knife into his arm.

“Get away from him!” You shouted, sprinting towards them, but your ankle caught on something, yanking you to the ground. Lance continued to scream in agony. Chains slithered up your body, pulling you further away from the two men. “Lance!” You clawed at the ground, but found no hold. The chains pulled you to your feet and Marty waltzed towards you, a proud smile on his face.

“Come to admire my handywork, Agent Y/L/N?” He grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze down at Lance’s cut and trembling body. Marty’s hand wrapped around your throat, closing tightly. You gasped for breath. He sneered. “You will never be rid of me. I will always be with you, no matter where you go. You can never get rid of me.”

The warmth was such a contrast to the icy memory of your dream it was searing. Your eyes shot open, your body jerking upwards, Lance’s arm falling from around your waist to your lap. Your breathing was rapid and heavy, sweat coating your forehead. You searched the floor for the nearest piece of clothing and grabbed Lance’s shirt, buttoning it as you slowly moved his arm from around you and stood up, walking towards the kitchen.

But as you passed the mirror on the bathroom door, you paused. His dress shirt covered less than half of your thigh, leaving your abundance of new scars out in the open. The pale lines ranged from thin to thick, running up the length of your legs, separating your skin like pieces of a puzzle. You ran your hand over them, feeling every bump and crevice they created. You can never be rid of me.

You flinched, pulling your hands away from you legs and continuing to the kitchen, grabbing a coffee mug and pouring scotch in instead. You’re hands were shaking so much that the glass slipped out of your fingers, shattering on the floor.

Lance woke holding nothing but a bundle of blankets. Much like he had two weeks ago the morning you were taken. This can’t be happening. He sat up quickly, the apartment’s darkness unnerving.

“Y/N!” He called out in panic. He clawed at the blankets, crying out. “Y/N!” You rushed back to the living room, careful not to step on the broken shards. His eyes were frantically looking around the room. You put your hands on either side of his face to focus his gaze on you.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.” He threw his arms around you, hugging you so tightly it was hard to breathe.

“When I woke up, you were gone and my mind automatically-”

“I know.” You interrupted. You ran your hand up and down his back in attempts to sooth his panic as his heart rate returned to normal. “I’m sorry. I got up to get a drink and I dropped a glass. That’s what woke you up.”

“Oh.” He looked down at your shirt. “Is- isn’t that mine?” You played with the sleeves.

“It’ was the first thing I grabbed. Why, do you want it back?” He shook his head and smirked.

“Actually it’s kind of hot.” You smirked and leaned in for a kiss but he stopped you. “But it is really late and I have to get up in the morning.” He pouted. The FBI was giving you four more days to adjust to coming home before making you come back, but Lance started working again the next day.

“I forgot about that.” You sighed, laying back down on the couch next to him, his arm returning to it’s previous spot. “Should I go pick up the glass?” You could feel him shake his head.

“I’ll get in the morning.” He whispered, holding you tightly to him, as if to keep you from ever leaving his side again. “Let’s just stay like this for a while.”

And so you did. For the rest of the night, neither of you said a word and you fell asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. The moment’s peacefulness was a stark comparison to your lives for the past few days. Plus is was nice to get some sleep that wasn’t drug-induced.

Of course the moment had to end come morning, when Lance got dressed, cleaned up the glass in the kitchen, and kissed your forehead when he said goodbye. It took you nearly two more hours to finally make yourself get up and make yourself a cup of coffee. Afraid to turn on the TV again, you grabbed one of Lance’s books off of the shelves. Psychology; Book One of Thirteen. It was going to be a long day.

“Sweets!” Booth called after him before Sweets could close his office door. Booth gave him a pat on the back and followed him into the office. “So how is she feeling?”

“Better.” He replied with a nod. “A lot better. I think she’s glad to finally be able to come home.”

“Well tell her that it’s just chaos here without her.” Booth chuckled. He plopped down on the couch and Sweets sifted through the papers on his desk, noticing a new email on his computer. It was an audio file.

“Huh.” He hummed, hitting play.

“I am going to enjoy this…” The voice on the file started. “Nice and slow.” His words were followed by the most gut-wrenching screams Lance had ever heard. Y/N’s screams of pain completely took over his senses, becoming the only thing he could hear. She called out his name, apologizing and saying how much she loved him. The sound of a knife slicing skin added to the cries.

“Sweets!” Booth reached over him and slammed the laptop shut, silencing the sounds of Y/N’s torture. “How the hell did that get on your computer?” Lance just stared blankly at his desk, the screams still ringing through his mind. Booth waved his hand in front of Sweets’ blank eyes, welling with tears. “Hey.” Booth spun his chair around, leaning over the younger man, forcing him to look at him.

“I should have found her sooner.” Sweets whispered, his voice cracking. Booth knelt down in front of him.

“Hey, what happened wasn’t your fault.” He assured him. “And if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have found Y/N at all. You saved her, Sweets. Don’t you dare start telling yourself differently.” He started to unplug Sweets’ laptop. “I’m going to take this down to tech to figure out how that got to you, okay?” Sweets just nodded wordlessly. Booth sighed. “I’m serious Sweets. We’re lucky that you noticed those wound patterns. You saved your fiance’s life. You saved my partner and you helped catch a man who killed four innocent woman. You’re a hero, Sweets.” With that, he left to go find the tech guys.

Lance ran his hand over his face, wiping away the tears that had fallen. He couldn’t get the haunting sounds of the tape out of his head, no matter how much he tried to focus on Booth’s words. He may have gotten to Y/N before Marty killed her, but she had still been tortured for at least a few hours. She had nearly bled out in his arms for god’s sake. How was he supposed to just forget that?

You had spent most of the day reading, avoiding anything that might bring up the news of your kidnapping or Marty’s demise. Your whole body was itching to do something, but the doctor said that you should get plenty of rest. That, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to enter back into the world just yet.

It seemed like every time you walked past your reflection, you felt the need to tug down the sleeves of your sweatshirt, or you could see the scars through your pajama pants- which you never bothered to change out of. Every time you took a shower, or wore a dress, you would be reminded of what he did to you. Part of you feared what Lance thought. Your once smooth skin was ridden with jagged, harsh lines. Would he look at you the same way?

You leaped from your spot on the sofa as the door clicked open. Lance stepped inside.

“It’s okay, it’s just me.” His exhausted expression brightened when he saw you. He crossed the room to place a firm kiss on your lips before moving to his room, taking off his suit jacket and tie. “How was your day?”

“Nothing interesting.” You shrugged. “You?”

“Nothing interesting.” He lied, memorizing the sound of your voice to replace your screams in his head. He came back into the living room and plopped down on the couch next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You laid your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his beating heart, focusing on it, making it the only thing in the world that mattered.

For a long time, neither of you said a word. You just sat there as the sun slowly drifted behind the horizon, the sky painting itself a symphony of oranges and pinks. After everything that had happened, you had feared that there was no beauty left in the world. But you felt the emotions stir in your chest as you longingly watched the sunset, wishing that it would remain like this forever.

“I’m scared.” You blurted, breaking the quiet. Lance pulled away to look at you. “Even though he’s dead and it’s over, I’m still scared.” You could feel the sobs slowly creeping up your throat as you spoke. You expected him to say something shrinky- to tell you that it was just the trauma and that it was going to take a while to get over. But he didn’t. Instead, with a shaking voice, he whispered.

“Me too.” He leaned back against the couch, his eyes distant and quickly filling with tears. “I lied. Something happened today.” You furrowed your brows in concern and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone sent me…” He took a deep breath. “Someone sent me your tape.” You closed your eyes, remembering how you screamed until your throat was sore.

“Lance…” You started, unable to think of what to say.

“Y/N, I couldn’t breathe.” He cried. “It felt like I was losing you all over again.”

“It was like I couldn’t escape.” You whispered. “He was everywhere I looked. Every time I looked in the mirror, he was in these scars. I could hear his voice every time I turned on the TV and saw the news. He’s always going to be here, Lance.” You tapped your finger against your temple. “I’ll always be trying to get away from him. My own skin is just a reminder of what happened to me. ”

“Hey,” He wrapped his arms around you as you started to sob. “He can’t hurt you anymore. No one is ever going to hurt you again so long as I’m here.” He rubbed circles on your back trying to sooth you. He wanted so desperately to make everything go away. He ran his hands over your legs, pointing out every line. “These are a reminder that you survived, Y/N. You survived and Marty’s dead. He can’t hurt you now.” You breathed deeply to calm yourself down and turned the attention back to what happened to him.

“Do you know who sent you the email?” You asked and he shook his head.

“Booth thinks it’s probably a hacker, but I don’t understand how they knew about the tapes.” He had been thinking about it all day, cancelling all of his appointments so he could focus on the hacker. Whoever it was, had to have known about the tapes before hand, and had some sort of vendetta against him or the FBI.

“I can’t think of who would be sick enough to do that.” You muttered, placing a tender kiss to the side of his head. You started to feel the silence creeping up and decided to change the subject to something light as opposed to the seriousness of the one before. “Do you know what my favorite part of going back to work is going to be?” You twisted one of his curls around your finger.

“What would that be?” He hummed, glad to be able to talk about something else. You pressed your lips to his passionately, the tension of the last conversation fading away, but not disappearing completely.

“Telling everyone that I am going to become Agent Y/F/N Sweets.” You grinned, earning a bright smile from him.

“It’s so weird to think about us getting married. But somehow, it doesn’t feel weird.” He looked at you intensely. “It feels right.”

“Did you get that from one of your shrink books.” You snorted and he laughed.

“That was all me.” He shot you a goofy grin and you threw a pillow at his face. In response, he tackled you against the couch cushions trapping your body underneath his. “We’re going to get through this.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to yours, moving them together with small smile. When you pulled away, the smile remained and you nodded.

“I know. And I couldn’t think of better person to go through hell and back with.” Your heart filled with love towards him and it took over your mouth before your mind had time to react. “Let’s get married.”

“I thought we were.” He snickered.

“That’s not what I mean.” You explained and his face morphed with understanding as he realized what you were suggesting. “I mean let’s get married now, Lance.”

“Y/N…” He began, trying to think of how to respond. He wanted more than anything to marry you, but he wasn’t sure if you were thinking clearly.

“Don’t think. Let’s just get in the car and go, Lance. I want this. You want this. Why wait? After everything that has happened, I don’t want to wait another minute to be together.” You stood up and tugged on his sleeves, urging him to come with you. He watched you, his eyes showing the thoughts going through his mind. But then, he smiled and nodded.

“Okay.” His smiled grew, filling you with a wonderful sense of just pure happiness. “Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

You had both decided that you wanted your friends to be there. It was getting late, but you knew that Angela would have your head if she didn’t get to go the wedding, so she was the one you called first. You hoped that she would bring Hodgins with her. Lance invited Booth and Dr. Brennan and you called Cam as well. Within an hour, you were all standing in front of the courthouse. Lance gave your hand a squeeze and Angela wrapped you in her arms for one of her famous bear hugs.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” She squealed, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl. From the corner of your eye you noticed Hodgins, lovingly smile at her antics. You made sure she wasn’t looking before you caught his attention.

“You’re next.” You mouthed, pointing your finger between him and Angela. His eyes went wide and you gave him a wink.

“I mean, I would have expected this from Miss Spontaneous over here,” Booth started, jutting his thumb towards you before patting Lance on the back. “But I must say, I’m surprised you agreed, Sweets.”

“Once she has her mind set to something, how am I supposed to say no?” He shrugged, leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek. “I can’t thank you guys enough for being here.”

“Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Cam gave the two of you a bright grin and you all walked up the steps of the courthouse. Your heart pounded as Booth opened the door and the crowd entered.

Lance explained everything to the woman at the desk and she was more than happy to help. She called to the justice and ushered you into the courtroom, checking both of your documents and placing them on the table. The justice entered and you took a deep breath. This was really happening.

“Oh, wait!” Angela exclaimed digging around in her purse. “I got you guys these.” She handed you a small plastic bag with two rings inside. One had the face of a penguin on it and the other had a bright, bubblegum pink unicorn. You and Lance couldn’t help but laugh.

The process wasn’t really anything elaborate. You both signed a wedding contract after the judge reviewed your papers. But you felt a childlike giddiness every time Lance looked at you. Electric sparks shot up his arm whenever your hands touched. You had requested that you have traditional vows, and the judge was more than happy to oblige. The two simple words sprung to your lips before he even had time to finish.

“I do.” Your heart lept as Lance said the same.

“I do.” You watched each other for what felt like hours when the judge said.

“I believe this is the part where you kiss the bride.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

Just another note: I have no idea what happens at an elopement, so I just wrote it in kinda vague. Sorry! (In case you didn’t catch it, the hacker was Pelant.)

#lance sweets x reader #bones imagine #bones sweets #Seeley Booth #angela montenegro #temperance brennan #dr lance sweets

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thekrazykeke · 7 years

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Title: Not That Innocent

Fandom(s): DCEU, Suicide Squad

Gif Cred: I found these gifs on Google, kudos to the original creators.

Request: And in the JokerxReaderxHarley the reader is a hired assassin(with powers like Deadpool:healing factor and all that other amazing stuff lol) who’s hired by some mob bosses to take out Harley and the Joker, so she decides to study them and ends up becoming interested in them and taking their side and they decide that they want the reader for their own and make plans to seduce her or something like that lol smut please 🙏🙏🙏❤❤❤❤

Requester: @keya168

Relationship(s): Joker x Harley. Joker x reader. Harley x reader. Joker x Harley x reader.

Summary: If the Organized Crime Syndicate wanted two clowns off the map, so be it. That’s what the reader thought…at first.

Tagging: @suckerforsmilex

Part I

The bullets started flying and you were immediately shoved in the direct line of fire. One, two, three, four, and more bullets hit you in the arm, leg, chest, throat and in your left eyeball. Limply, your body hit the floor.

“Puddin’!” With a dismayed pout, Harley glanced at her lover who had already removed his gun from the holster and opening fire on the idiots who’d invaded his club, laughing insanely all the while. “I didn’t even get to play with this one.”

“The night’s still young and I’ll find you a new toy. Now come on, honey, there’s killing to be done!” Joker barked back at his Queen, squinting as he noticed one of the Don’s most loyal lackey’s lugging a... suitcase(?) behind him. Upending the table, he broke off a leg and smacked an approaching assailant across the face. “LORENZO, SO NICE OF YOU TO SHOW UP TO THIS PARTY! WHAT’D YOU BRING ME? YOUR MOTHER’S REMAINS?” Much to his glee, just like he predicted, the man, Lorenzo’s, face clouded with anger and hurt as well as the beginnings of very real insanity. “YOU FUCKING CLOWN. YOU’RE GOING TO REGRET THAT REMARK!”

“THAT’S WHAT YOUR MOTHER SAID! HA HA HA HA HA HA!”

Side by side, the King and Queen of Gotham laid waste to anyone stupid enough to get a few feet of them, but as the fight dragged on, they gained injuries too. Joker had a small cut on his throat, that thankfully wasn’t bleeding too hard and hadn’t hit any vital areas, while Harley had a bruised cheek and black eye. Both the clowns were grinning widely, madly, and unnerving the people desperate to bring them down.

Lorenzo knew this couldn’t go on, and he was losing more guys than he could afford. So, he leaned down behind an table, undoing one latch of the suitcase, a bead of sweat dripping down his jaw as it lurched ominously, then he undid the other two latches, using his foot to kick it away from him. The suitcase flapped open and a swarm of locusts came pouring out of a single beige ceramic urn, spreading across the ceiling of the club before proceeding to attack anything that was moving. He closed his eyes and held his breath, trying to ignore the surprised cries of fear and pain from the remaining men. It would be worth it, it would. Don Falcone had cautioned him against opening the suitcase, especially if Y/N was incapacitated, he’d been warned that it’d be easier to just let her naturally regenerate from her wounds, but this was a desperate situation and once the clowns were dead, he was sure that all would be forgiven.

“Puddin’...” Harley turned her head just in time to see the swarm of locusts congregate over your fallen body. Although she had pretty much seen it all, or at least, that’s the way she felt, she couldn’t the small amount of distaste she felt when the insects became like a black, oily substance, coating your body head to toe. “Puddin’...!”

“I’m not blind! I see what’s happening.” He snapped. It wasn’t visible on his face but Joker didn’t quite know what to make of this phenomenon either.

As if guided by some otherworldly force, you stood up, still covered by the oily substance. Then after a heartbeat or two, (e/c) eyes snapped open and the black substance flaked off of you, revealing you totally healed but there was something...off about your demeanor.

“Y-You’re fed. You’re healed. Now do your job and end them. Just like Falcone said.” Lorenzo stood up from behind his hiding space, feeling triumphant and vindicated all at once.

“You think I’m full?” In a flash of darkness, you vacated the area you’d been standing to appear in front of the man, hand lashing out. “Silly little boy.” Your entire arm had gone out the back of Lorenzo and he looked down in shock. “I’m still hungry.” Teeth becoming sharp and pointed, you bit down on his throat, tearing into his vocal chords and preventing him from screaming with that single bite. Body once again transforming into a swarm of locusts, you carried the full grown man out of the club and into the night.

“...Will I get kinkshamed for thinking that was kind of sexy?” Joker grinned down at Harley.

“Definitely.” Harley snorted. ‘Even though it was kind of hot. Strange and weird but still hot.’

With a shrug, J declared, “That was sexy. We definitely need to get one of those.”

“Puddin’...”

“O’ course, there’s no one better than you, pooh.”

“Aww, puddin’! You’re such a romantic!”

So, the Jester of Homicide and his Queen put the word out that they were looking for you. You weren’t very difficult to find, especially with Falcone also on your trail, because you left corpses after every feeding. Calling it a corpse might be too polite though because not a scrap of flesh was left on the skeleton, and after the second or third time the deranged duo came across such a thing, the unease had been replaced with fascination and arousal. The royal couple wanted you, they realized, to play, murder and cause chaos with.

“What do you want?” Utterly unfazed with how the Joker and Harley burst in the seedy motel room, you continued munching on barbecue chicken. “I didn’t do the job and not only am I the laughing stock of the assassin community, but Falcone’s sending greenhorn wannabe’s to whack me off. It’s honestly annoying.”

“Don’t you think you’ve eaten enough?” Joker asked, a bit insensitively. Harley nudged him. “I mean....”

Amusement danced across your features. “I can always eat more.”

The veiled threat hang in the air, stinking up the atmosphere like a dead carcass and Harley wanted no parts of it. “Look, sweetie. Puddin’ and I, we’re grateful you didn’t decide to make lunch out of us, but there’s something else we’d like to do more with you, if you’re up for it.”

Glancing down at her hand which carefully touched your knee, you were getting the feeling of deja vu, recalling what had happened at the club before being interrupted by Lorenzo and his clumsy assassination attempt. “And if I say ‘No’, what then?”

“Then we walk away from you.” Joker butted in.

For a few second, you said nothing. Then sighed heavily, as if bothered. Opening your mouth, you were suddenly kissed by Harley and your head swam. You were caught up in her, again, but not enough where you didn’t notice as Joker started peeling hers and your clothes off.

“Say yes, Y/N.” Harley breathed. Resisting the urge to snipe, you nodded. The blonde continued to stare at you and you rolled your eyes, “Yes.” As soon as that word left your lips, both clowns grinned savagely with delight.

“Harley’s going to eat you out and then you are going to get fucked by her while I fuck her from behind. But she doesn’t get to come until I say so.” Joker said darkly and he smiled when the girls’ breathing hitched and caught from the image it produced in their head. His cock drooled a little more at the thought of Harley dominating you while he used his fingers and cock to fuck her open.

Harley’s hands worked up your knees, over your thighs and to your pussy, where she ran her fingers down the wetness just beckoning to her.

You yelped as Harley’s hot mouth latched onto your clit and sucked. You moaned hotly when the flat of her tongue pressed against your entrance. Glancing down to find the blonde watching with a sinful look in her eyes. Her tongue laved your clit and you jumped as you felt two fingers pressing into your pussy and crooking them in a come hither motion. You moaned and writhed on the bed and nearly whimpered when Joker moved off the bed to strip down to nothing. Coming back, you reached for his cock and brought your mouth to the tip, sucking slightly and pumping him fast. Joker moaned. He watched Harley slurping and sucking at you like you were the first meal she’d had for months. And your back arched beautifully as she brought you closer and closer. Your mouth around him vibrated from humming and moaning. Harley had glanced up when you let loose a particularly loud moan, only to stop for a moment to watch you sucking on J’s cock.

Harley almost couldn’t believe this was happening. To eat out the most beautiful woman, you, and watch you pleasure her man was nearly too much.

It wasn’t until you were grinding down on her face that she reached up and pinned your hips to the bed. You broke away from J’s cock and panted, your hand curling in her hair, pressing her mouth against you harder, she crooked her fingers inside you once more and you screamed, back arching off the bed and pushing your hips into her mouth harder, chasing your orgasm. Harley refused to let go of your clit and worked your pussy until you were crying from over stimulation. When she finally broke away from your dripping cunt, your body was limp on the bed and your breathing was harsh and shallow. Harley crawled up your body and kissed your sweaty skin, peppering you with affection and whispering how good you were into your skin.

Joker’s hands scrambled through the bag they’d brought with them, finding a tube of lube and a strap on. He motioned for Harley to come closer and he sat at the edge of the bed while Harley stepped in between his legs. J pressed his nose into the skin of Harley’s hips and left kisses down her chest. Harley moaned. J said sensually, “Look at you. So ready for me.” J reached between Harley’s legs and ran his fingers over his hole, which fluttered around his fingers, “Such a slut. God, Harls, you’re beautiful.” Joker was teasing and edging her closer and closer to climax and her knees nearly buckled when her puddin’s mouth enveloped her. J’s tongue was skilled enough to make anyone turn into a writhing puddle. He pulled away too soon for Harley’s liking and stood up, helping her put the toy on. Harley kissed you gently, body propped above yours by her forearms. You guided her into your body, sinking in inch by inch as she stretched you slowly. You both groaned in unison and you kissed her heatedly as she continued to fill you to the brim. “Harley.” You moaned when she was seated all the way inside. Harley didn’t hesitate at all and pulled out slowly. She thrust back in and you cried out, hands scrambling for a hold on her back. J stepped up behind Harley and watched Harley’s hips roll steadily, giving him a view of her ass. Popping the lube, he coated his fingers in slick and put a hand against Harley’s lower back. Harley slowed her movements, whimpering as J’s fingers pressed into the cleft of her ass and pushed against the rim. Harley’s mouth opened at the stretch of one finger. Bent over you with J holding her down, you pulsing around the toy, squeezing the strap on and again, she had the thought that maybe this was too much.

“Puddin’.” Harley whined. “Mistah J. Please...”

Joker smacked her ass, the sound and sensation startling her but then a small moan slipped through her mouth as his hand slipped up to her neck and held her down over you. J growled, “Shut up.” You kissed Harley roughly, all teeth and nails down her back. Joker added a finger and then curled them, making Harley jolt. “You’re going to give Y/N the best climax of her life and I’m going to fuck you open on my cock. Then when I’m finished with you, then you can cum.”

“Mistah J!” Harley pleaded, but it only ended up with another chiding smack on the ass. Joker’s hand wormed its way into her hair as his other hand popped open the lube and spread a thick coat over his cock. Pouring more on the outside of her throbbing hole, he used his fingers to slide the lube into her ass. Harley moaned and fucked back against his fingers. And if that wasn’t the hottest thing he had seen in a while. He pushed against her hole with his cock, the head just breaching the rim. Harley gasped and pushed back, her greedy little hole swallowing the head of his cock like it was born for it. They both groaned as J slid in slowly. Harley slid forward, into you which made you groan and then back out, further onto J’s cock. With his grip still in her hair, Joker yanked Harley up against him so he could be seated all the way inside. Harley groaned and arched her back, Joker’s grip on her hair keeping her head tilted to one side.

J’s mouth fell onto Harley’s shoulder and his other hand moved around to her chest and pinched her nipple. “Move,” He growled in her ear. Harley whimpered but rolled her hips anyway, back into you who pushed into her as well and then back into J, who gripped her tighter. “God, look at you, Harls. Fucking back onto my cock like you need it.” All she could do was groan and whimper at the ministrations given to her by both of them. You were quickly finding your second orgasm as you milked and pulled at Harley. Harley, finding she was being a bit selfish, broke away from J’s hold and bent over you, taking your breast into her mouth and using her other hand to play with your clit. “Oh, fuck! Fuck!” You threw her head back into the pillows, “Harder, please, harder!” Increasing her speed and sucking at you while playing with your clit sent you over the edge as you moaned, writhing beneath her and dragging out your climax. Harley kissed you gently as aftershocks wracked your body, she put a hand over your stomach and could feel the muscles under the skin pull and release. When you cried and pulled away from over stimulation, J yanked her up again, carefully taking the strap on off. She was so hot everywhere and so close to coming. Face was flushed and heart pounding, she didn’t think she was going to make it. Whining and reached behind her for J’s ass, grinding herself back against him. “I need to cum!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on a little bit longer. You’re doing so good, honey. You’re so good to us.” J’s tongue tasted the salt and sweat on her skin and she was shaking from holding out so long. He wouldn’t be surprised if she collapsed after she came. He groaned as he felt the familiar warmth and heat build in his balls, catching him off guard with how fast he was ready. He had half a mind to pace himself and keep edging until she was wrecked and crying for release. But that could come later. “Oh fuck!” Harley cried as J hit her sweet spot, making her knees shake and the spike of pleasure, with a tendril of pain, driving higher and higher. “Fuck, harder…please, please fuck me harder.” And who was he to say no? Gripping her hips and letting his head loll to the side, he thrust harder, jetting his hips. The sound of skin on skin was obscene, the wet squelch of his cock thrusting inside Harley make it all the hotter when J glimpsed down to see you, finger fucking yourself all over again to the sight of them.

J whispered, “Look at what you’ve done, Harley. Look at what you do to her.”

Harley’s eyes could barely stay open with how hard Joker was fucking her open. “You’re so beautiful, opening on my cock like such a whore.” His fingers snaking down her front, pinching her nipples and finding her clit. “Puddin’!” Harley cried out, whimpering and whining like a puppy and gritting her teeth, “Puddin’, I can’t…fuck, I’m gonna c-cum!” It was a good thing too because Joker didn’t think he could hold out much longer. Three more thrusts and he spilled his release deep inside her, and she followed after him, clamping down on his cock like a vice, milking him.

#dc #joker #dc imagine #joker x harley #black reader #joker x reader #the joker #harley #the joker imagine #harley quinn #harley x reader #harley quinn imagine #jared leto joker #joker x harley x reader #suicide squad #harley quinn x joker x reader #suicide squad imagine #harley quinn x reader #thekrazykeke

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smolpocketmonstercoffee · 7 years

Text

HoA 10

H E A R T _ O F _ A R S O N

Ulfric has faced many years since the Great War but there is a face that has hung in silence in his mind since then. All those years later, finding that face again would draw new memories to be made in the wake of the war he waged against the claws of the Empire. And the matter of other claws that would sink into the very flesh of Skyrim itself brought its own problems, along with a mysterious stranger. The path of the future was not certain. But the fresh return of that face in his mind brought questions. Ones he felt needed to be answered.

START, PREVIOUS, NEXT

TW: Dragon Destruction and Mayhem

Galmar was personally glad that Loriel was off adventuring again and he commented on it multiple times over the following four days after Ulfric had seen the bard out of the city.

“Galmar. Enough,” Ulfric finally barked at him, personally exhausted with his housecarl’s reminders that he was supposedly more productive as a Jarl and leader of the rebellion when the bard was absent. It was starting to set his teeth on edge. And the only person who seemed to think that he was less productive when Loriel was in the city just so happened to be Galmar as well. And frankly, Ulfric was starting to consider joining another patrol just to get away from the man who once stood at his side during the Great War.

He was glad though to hold some secrets from Galmar.

If the man knew that Loriel was the brother to Elenwen’s aid, there was a high chance that Galmar would have taken it upon himself to have Loriel arrested just for that fact. It was about as intelligent as putting Galmar in a jail cell because his brother was still getting drunk and harassing the Dunmer, although occurrences of that were becoming less frequent with Elda beginning to refuse to serve Rolff.

Ulfric sighed and rubbed his face.

Four days and he was missing Loriel already.

He wondered about the Mer’s adventures. And what was this thing that he had gotten himself tied up into this time?

It made him incredibly curious, and worried all at once. He wondered what Loriel did when he was away from Windhelm. He knew that there were times when he would travel north to Winterhold or south to Riften, but the long stretches that went without the Mer being seen at all were troubling to the Jarl.

He lifted his eyes to his housecarl, “For what reasons do you hate that elf so much?”

Galmar scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Those who are unwilling to fight the Empire do not belong in Skyrim.”

“So would you condemn the many others who also do not fight in our name, even those who also do not fight against us, just as you are condemning him?”

The housecarl barked out, “They’re Nords! Men! True people of Skyrim! The elves have brought us nothing but trouble! And that elf has brought nothing but trouble to Windhelm and he has conned you out of valuable resources that could have been used for the war and turned those resources towards those worthless greyskins! They won’t fight for our cause and neither will he-”

“Skyrim is home to more than Nords,” Ulfric interrupted, “Just as Windhelm is home to more than just Nords. That elf reminded me that I have a duty to the people of my city, just as much as I have a duty to the rest of Eastmarch as well. I do not travel about my hold, personally seeing to the affairs and troubles of the land I am responsible for just to neglect a single piece right under my very nose! Simply because they are elves! How can I be a leader to the people of Skyrim if I am unable to take care of the responsibility I already have?”

Galmar looked affronted.

And for a long time, the two of them stared across the war table at each other, the air thick with hostility.

And Ulfric breathes in deeply.

“This discussion is over. Go see where today’s report is.”

And the discussion was over.

Ulfric thought no more of it, and that was how he preferred it until a very worrisome thing started to catch Ulfric’s attention increasingly through the two weeks that followed.

It was two things, really.

The first was that Loriel was late.

And the second was that there were reports of kidnappings, some even happening in broad daylight, of Altmer men going missing from the roads of Eastmarch and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Thalmor were pulling a dangerous stunt by sneaking about in Ulfric’s territory, trying to find Loriel.

Why was Loriel so late?

Where was he?

It wasn’t safe!

All rumors of the bard that passed through the lips of Stormcloak guards were absent, meaning that Loriel had pulled another disappearing act, and in good timing too. Just four days after Loriel left, word rose from Riften that agents of the Thalmor had gone down into the Ratway, although none returned.

Those thieves down there seemed to be becoming more efficient, even with the trouble they caused in the wake of regaining their footholds in Skyrim over the last ten years. There might be honor among thieves yet, protecting their own meager bit of territory under the city.

Ulfric rubbed his mouth.

He needed to get out of the Palace.

Breathe some fresh air.

Maybe he could join a patrol.

What patrols were going out today?

As Ulfric found out, there was a replacement patrol going to relieve the ones in Kynesgrove.

It would be good to see how the Malachite mining was doing as well since Oengul War-Anvil had discovered a method to reinforce the chainmail of the Stormcloak cuirasses by curing the metal in a bath of Malachite before heating it one final time. The discovery would help save the lives of his soldiers, be it under dragonfire or Imperial armed forces.

Kynesgrove had made improvements, fortifications for its people if the small town fell under the attack of dragonfire again, and Ulfric felt that it was about time to inspect those improvements as well.

Divines only know that Ulfric’s duties to his people came before the war, and at the moment, Tullius seemed to be recovering from another dragon attack that happened in Solitude itself, which gave the Stormcloaks some breathing room if only for a little while.

And so Ulfric went with the replacement patrol.

The town was close enough that he did not feel it was necessary to bring his horse from the comfort of its stable for the meager adventure and he was able to enjoy the talk of the guards among themselves once they were beyond the idea that joking around Ulfric was not a huge offense.

The guards who were glad to return home were surprised to see Ulfric, although the head of the town was pleased by the unexpected visit. Part for business, part for pleasure. It would give him something for his snide son to brag about and Ulfric was very content with the idea of putting the boy in his place if he opened his mouth about the Dunmer who worked in the town, a fact Ulfric had heard from one of the guards. Braidwood Inn was a hearty place and the guards that were leaving were settling in for one last good meal while Ulfric spoke with Iddra.

The woman poured him a good tankard of handsome dark ale and the taste was incredibly full-bodied and sweet. He would always be a mead man but it was damn good ale, Ulfric would admit to that.

He pondered over if he should ask for a barrel of the stuff to bring back. Find out from Loriel if it was as good as the vintage brandy he had been gushing to the Dunmer about.

Ulfric had to stop a wonder of if he might ever get to have a taste of Vintage Brandy off the lips of that bard.

When the war was over, perhaps.

It was an enjoyable thought, one that he would have to entertain later.

A fair amount of time later as Ulfric noticed the dark liquid in his tankard tremble at the same time as a high, distant sound echoed from outside. It sounded like a whisper from within the Inn, but Ulfric would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not recognize it.

Dragon.

Soldiers who also recognized the sound were on their feet not long after Ulfric had bolted from his chair, all of them filing outside to see where the source of the sound was, just as another impossibly loud scream ripped into the air.

It was from the south.

Not as far as Windhelm was from Kynesgrove, which meant it was far too close for comfort, but as he gazed in the direction that the sound came from, he recognized the next Thu’um and his heart seized in his chest.

“KRII LUN AUS!”

It was a mortal shout that retched that Thu’um into life.

The Dragonborn.

Arson!

Ulfric bolted away from the soldiers, his ears roaring with the sound of his blood, ignoring the shouts behind him as he hurried down the south road and followed the sounds of the dragon’s pissed off roars.

He saw wings, brittle and spindly and on the edge of a slope, on the edge of a rock face, he saw the back of Arson’s patchwork armor, a sword of bone clutched in his hand, the other free as it came up towards his face.

“FUS RO DAH!”

The sound was like thunder, snapping just as hard as the impact that slammed into the dragon and its wings faltered, making it drop lower below the slope and Arson jumped.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the soldiers gathering with him to watch, seeing Arson clinging to the dragon’s skull as the beast tried to throw him off, wings flapping in angry gusts before the Dragonborn let go and was swung up into the air, adjusting his grip on his sword and impaling it through the dragon’s head as he fell back towards the earth.

The creature let out a pained scream and Arson shoved himself off the beast, flipping backwards in his jump and disappearing below the slope.

The loud crash from the impact of the beast’s body made the ground tremble beneath Ulfric’s feet and he found himself moving down the slope, catching a glimpse of Arson staggering to his feet and then taking a few steps back from the body, his sword still lingering in the dragon’s skull.

What happened next was beyond words.

It was like watching the man get hit with an arrow, a sharp gasp and his legs failed him, forcing him to his knees, a hand bracing himself on the ground before the body of the dragon began to crumble to fire and Ulfric felt the warmth of that dragon’s soul as it rose and rushed for Arson.

It disappeared after enclosing the man in its warmth.

For some reason, the color, the wavering shades of gold and flames, it made him think of a dream.

Of a dragon swathed in shimmering, shifting tones of gold and fire.

And it left only a dragon’s skeleton, its hord, and a Dragonborn in its wake.

Letting out a soft breath, Ulfric drew close to the man and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Arso-”

“Don’t touch me!” the Dragonborn hissed, wincing away from Ulfric’s hand and the Jarl took a step back from the sound of sheer wrath in his voice.

There was nothing but silence between them as the dust settled and Arson puffed behind his mask, his shoulders drooping.

“I- I’m sorry… Just… just give me a minute. Please,” Arson finally said, his hand coming to cover his face after a while and he eventually shifted his legs to sit, elbows on his knees and resting his head on his hands, trying to take deep breaths.

Under all that armor, under the scorch of dragonfire and the beating rays of the sun and all that Arson had done, Ulfric wondered if the Dragonborn might suffer from heatstroke as a result.

He knew he would in Arson’s situation.

Gazing to the soldiers, he frowned deeply. “Someone give the Dragonborn some water.”

No doubt he desperately needed it.

A few offered their water skins and Ulfric took one that looked full, presenting it to Arson.

He looked up and took the offering. Lifting the wrap about his shoulders until it was about his face and under the secure covering, he heard the unmuffled breaths of the Dragonborn and the eager gulps, only lowering the wrap after everything had been resituated and he gave back the empty waterskin.

“Thank you, Ulfric.”

Ulfric nodded wordlessly.

“That was impressive,” Ulfric stated.

“What? Bringing it a mortal death or taking its mortality for my own strength?”

There’s a difference?

“Yes?”

The Dragonborn let out an irritated huff at the response.

“Killing dragons is a pain in the ass. Wanting to fight them is to want to have a glorified death. Suicide. I don’t want to fight them but I have a duty to. As for their souls… I struggle with my own as it is. I don’t need theirs helping with the chaos,” he stated, shaking his head before staggering to his feet. He stepped over to the skeleton and pried his sword from its skull with his foot on the bone, almost falling back before he righted himself on his feet and picked up what horde it had dropped.

Bones and skin and coins and gems and some poor dead fool’s boots. He shoved the boots into the mouth of the dragon’s skull in disgust before he looked around.

“I need a river…”

After a moment, he approached the cliff edge and rolled his shoulders upon resting his eyes upon the White River below. Then he turned around.

“Make sure this doesn’t run off, will you?” he stated, slipping the straps of the scroll from his back and tossing the ornate object directly to the Jarl. Then, he turned back to the cliff and he jumped.

There was the sound of feet hitting wood and then then the sound of a Sabercat’s snarl.

“Fuck me.”

Well that served Arson right.

Ulfric couldn’t remember the last time anyone treated him so nonchalantly, like a servant almost, and the soldiers seemed just as offended. The Jarl huffed, one hand on his hip as the other gripped the scroll, as he approached the cliff edge and observed Arson as he pulled his blade free from the shoulder of the beast he had disturbed, dropped his excess on the ground, and waded into the river to soak himself free of the heat.

The Jarl looked back to the soldiers and they all went around the edge of the cliff to the river, finding a decrepit looking shack that Arson had landed on, and upon further inspection, discovered that the original owner had met his demise at the teeth of the animal Arson had just killed.

“Put him to rest,” Ulfric told his men and one of them found a shovel by the neglected garden to start digging a hole.

“Poor sod.”

He turned around to see Arson sludging out of the water, probably feeling about twenty pounds heavier from the water weight in his armor, every heavy breath blowing water from the mask in a fine mist which without a doubt made it more difficult to breathe. Arson picked up the length of fabric he had dropped and then draped it about his head again and after a bit of effort, pulled the mask free from his face.

Beneath that wrap, Ulfric realized, Arson had exposed himself.

And it felt incredibly startling.

“That feels a lot better,” the Dragonborn breathed in relief.

“Perhaps you should invest in more breathable armor,” Ulfric suggested.

“Perhaps dragons should stop giving me a reason to kill them,” Arson shot back.

He sighed.

Well neither of them had control over that…

He offered the scroll back to Arson and he stated his thanks, resituating it before stepping into the shack and around the remains, hanging his mask over the bars of the cooking spit so that it might dry by the dying fire. A couple logs were tossed into it and a few pokes and it was back to a roaring hearth.

Watching as Arson seemingly made himself at home, he wrapped his arms around himself, a thought wandering across his mind. “I got your message.”

“I know.”

“How could you?”

“That Mer was on an errand this week that paralleled with my own,” he said, giving a tap to the scroll he wore.

Arson had seen Loriel.

“How was he when you saw him?”

“Well considering we were in Blackreach…” Arson trailed off, looking through the food barrels and giving a laugh before he reached in and extracted a couple bottles of mead. “Jumpy. He almost took the nose off my face when I stumbled onto him.”

Blackreach.

Ulfric drew in a startled breath.

“The Blackreach?” he asked.

“Yes, the Blackreach. Amazingly gorgeous, never seen so many giant mushrooms in my life. Or Red Nirnroot. I don’t think water should glow though… Then there’s the hordes of Falmer. The Mer was good help with them.”

“Was he safe?”

Arson paused and looked back at Ulfric slowly.

“You worry about him?”

He offered Ulfric a bottle of mead and the Jarl took it only because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. He needed something to occupy his hands, to give him a reason to hold onto his silence. “He has made himself good company to the people of Windhelm.”

“But you worry about him.”

Yes, you daft fool, I worry about him!

He pulled the cork and took a swallow, keeping his silence, gazing out the door to the river as the soldiers came to put the corpse in the grave.

Arson stepped outside after the soldiers, tugging along his wet armor until he lifted a spot and pulled out a coin purse from a hidden pocket. Opening the bag, he instead pulled out a single Stalhrim medallion. Once the body was in the grave, he leaned down and pushed the scale between the dead man’s teeth. And then he stepped back, allowing him to be buried.

“Do you pay all corpses that respect?” Ulfric found himself asking.

“Just the people I’ve been made familiar with. This man though… I knew him. Back before this dragon business happened. Back before the world even cared about who Arson was. Back when I was only known as a traveler and a scavenger. This man was a good man, if a little unhinged.

That might have explained what he was going all the way out here…

“In your note, you said you wanted to talk to me about something.”

It had been so long that Ulfric had almost forgotten actually, and he wracked his brain to remember before drawing a breath to speak. “It’s about what you mentioned during your visit to Windhelm. About how the deaths of men only made your problem stronger. I’ve made arrangements with my men to keep them safer under dragonfire but Tullius is losing men by the handful.”

Arson sighed. “You certainly will make a good king,” he murmured before sharply rolling his shoulders and Ulfric heard his back crunch. And he sighed again. That sounded like it felt better.

It was a statement that Ulfric felt incredibly proud to hear, especially coming from the Dragonborn.

“I made the suggestion to do the same as you to Tullius, but he’s…” and he shook his head, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead and massaged a spot that bothered him. And he drew another breath. “If Tullius is stupid enough not to heed my advice in what to do with his men, their deaths rest on his shoulders alone. He can either follow in your example or the stupid s’wit can explain to the Emperor why he is losing men by the legion to overgrown fire-breathing flying lizards.”

The way he said it made laughter bubble up from the Jarl’s stomach and he smiled, watching as the Dragonborn leaned against the wall of the shack and uncorked his bottle of mead.

Tilting his head beneath the shroud of fabric, he drank. “There’s something I need to share with you, Ulfric. A concern of mine,” he said, his voice calm and low.

And Ulfric continued to lean against the open doorway. “I’m listening.”

Arson took a deep breath and lowered his bottle.

“I have a contact within the Thalmor. While I have undeniable faith in his abilities, I worry that one of these days his betrayal will be found out. I am asking of you to be willing to take him under your wing should that happen.”

He took a breath and a swallow of mead, thinking.

The dossier had likely been lifted from the Thalmor Embassy, either passed on by hand from this contact or during the dragon attack. An ally on the inside was incredibly valuable, especially with Arson’s hatred of the Thalmor.

“Who is this contact?”

“It would be safer to not say, for both his sake and yours. But when he comes to you, I have instructed him to give you a riddle. That's how you’ll know.”

“A riddle?”

There was a small laugh of amusement and Arson lifted his face towards the sun. “This thing all things devours: birds, beasts, trees, flowers; gnaws iron, bites steel; grinds hard stones to meal; slays kings, ruins towns, and beats high mountains down.”

Ulric looked at him quizzically.

What a riddle…

He wondered the answer.

“I will commit it to memory. And puzzle over it when I have time. Are you on your way somewhere?”

“Off to face off against my destiny.”

He let out a nervous breath and pushed himself away from the wall, leaving a wet impression of himself against the wood before going inside and snatching up his dry mask to put it on beneath the cover of his mask.

“Everyone has faith in your ability to win.”

“I don’t think anyone should have that much faith in one man, let alone everyone…”

He was worried. Scared even.

And Ulfric watched that tense back as he unwrapped the fabric from his shoulders and face. And then frowned.

There was something.

A loose lock of hair, peeking out from the edge of the mask that extended down his neck.

It was fine and pale, blond although the exact shade couldn’t be told in the poor light.

“A moment,” Ulfric murmured, stepping close and he slipped his fingers under the edge of that mask.

A simple swipe along the Dragonborn’s shoulders, his back going tense under the touch, and Ulfric withdrew, Arson immediately reaching to the spot Ulfric had touched as he turned and looked at him.

Ulfric knew at least one fact about the man now.

Arson’s hair was long and blond.

Only one, but it gave him a narrow idea of the man.

Even if Arson had a Nord’s accent, he could be almost any of the humanoid races, be it elf or man, anyone who had lived in Skyrim long enough to lose any pre-existing accent with the exception of maybe an Orc, but to have blond hair as an Orc, a Dunmer, or a Redguard was ranged from rare to generally impossible. Even among Bosmer brawlers, Ulfric had never seen one with Arson’s bulk or height, which put the chances of the Dragonborn being either an incredibly tall Breton, a tall Nord or Imperial, or a short Altmer were the highest of all the races. One elven race and three races of men. And all the past Dragonborns had been Men as well, the most recent being Martin Septim himself, an Imperial.

No, Ulfric doubted Arson was a Mer. Altmers were long and lean. Like Loriel. Arson was not of the lean sort.

But it was hard to tell if that bulk was his or his armor.

“You will win, I am sure of it,” Ulfric said, not willing to speak of what he had seen both out of respect for Arson as well as not wishing to alert his soldiers that anything that could have identified the Dragonborn had been noticed.

The man huffed behind his mask and relaxed.

“You forget I am still just a man.”

“Akatosh chose you for a reason. If you do not have faith in yourself, have faith in him. He at least has faith in you.”

It made Arson stop and his chest rose exaggeratedly in a few breaths before he shifted uncomfortably.

“I wish he didn’t.”

He didn’t want this fate. This responsibility.

Ulfric didn’t blame him.

And he sighed. “I once had this sort of discussion with the very Mer you had deliver your message. Loriel,” he stated, gazing out the open door of the shack out to the river. He wondered if his fondness had leeched into his voice, saying that name. “We spoke of the hiding of your identity, and he made me understand why. To protect the people who care about you. Who know you as you really are. You are a valuable commodity and too many less than honest people would try to wring any method to take advantage of you. The burden you bare is incomparable. But if you do not have faith that you can accomplish this task, at least have hope that you might be able to live as a free man when you succeed. To return to the people you love and live whatever quiet life it is you wish to live.”

He thought back to the very bard who spoke those words.

Loriel didn’t have the same luxury that Arson did.

He would forever be hunted by the Thalmor until his last breath.

And possibly even beyond that.

Arson took a slow, deep breath.

“He… sounds very thoughtful.”

Ulfric smiled, something soft and small but fond.

“I trust his advice more than my housecarl thinks I should.”

“To be fair, your housecarl is an ass.”

The reply dragged a laugh out of both of them and the seriousness of the air diminished.

“Thank you, Ulfric. For your words. And your company. I think it was just what I was looking for before I have to go do… well, what I have to do.”

“Talos protect you, Arson.”

“May the Divines guide you always.”

And Ulfric watched the Dragonborn as he made his way towards that great mountain, to face his destiny as Akatosh willed it.

And he prayed that Arson would succeed.

He had faith in Arson even if he did not.

Akatosh chose him for a reason.

#Heart of Arson #HoA #Skyrim #Dragonborn Arson #Ulfric Stormcloak #Loriel Elsinlock

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