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mysterytickingegos · 3 years

Text

Ouija Board

Pairing: Ghost!Blank x Reader (Ambiguous)

Genre: Paranormal

Word Count: 1,512

Summary: Sequel to Blank’s Winter Ficlet. After months of Blank poking at your sanity out of boredom, you bring your friends home to get their help, and someone brings a Ouija board into the mix. The day ends with you being left with more questions than answers. (There will probably be another part to this later.)

Anonymous Request: 1. Blankgameplays 2. she/her 3. Platonic/ambiguous 4. Fluff (meet cute, like Blanky Boi is 'haunting' {would you call it haunting? is he even a ghost?} reader's house) Prompt: 63 - Reader: “I don’t believe in ghosts.” Blank: *about to ruin this mans whole career* Please and thank you with extra sprinkles on top ♥ ☆ﾟ.*♥･｡ﾟ♥

Authors Note: First off, to get it out of the way, I was originally using a gif from the tumblr search option, and I removed it when asked. Even though I’ve done so, I can’t remove the reply because they blocked me before I even saw the notification. The gif you should be seeing (if it matches the image description) is one I made myself. Now, onto the important stuff- Oh my god, it is about time I got this done! I’m so sorry it took this long for me to get to it! If it helps in any way I finished this fic with idea’s on continuing it later so...you’ll probably be getting more out of your request than most!

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[Image Description: A gif of Ethan (Crankgameplays) edited to be spooky with multicolored layers. He leans towards the camera and speaks ominously.]

You’d started out with nerves of steel.

Ghosts weren’t real. You knew that.

It’s an old house, and you have an overactive imagination. That’s what you told yourself, over and over again, even once it stopped making sense. But there’s only so many times you can catch things moving on their own, or you could hear that distant voice, before you started to get a little tense. So when you finally hit your limit, you turned to your friends, bringing them to the house in the hopes that they could confirm what you’d been seeing. Or not.

“Okay, before we go in, here’s the plan. We don’t talk about it.” You started, keeping Vi and Eric on the stairs. “Because I think if it knows that I told you about it, it won’t do anything. Like, try to make me look crazy.”

“You do look a little crazy right now.” Violet quipped, nudging you further up the stairs. “Come on, we get it. Act normal, pay attention, let’s get ghost hunting.”

“Ugh, please don’t call it that.” You unlocked the front door, stepping in with your friends following right behind you.

You tossed your keys onto the counter, and the sudden noise was all it took to make Eric yelp. You and Violet both turned to look at him, seeing him cover his face with his hand. “Sorry...”

You sighed, already close to giving up on this plan. You were pretty sure the so-called ghost didn’t even have to do anything. Eric was so nervous and Violet was so excited about this whole thing that they’d probably make up their own ghost story by the time you finished painting the office.

But you trudged forward, bringing them upstairs and getting to work.

You dug your speaker out of the closet, putting some decent music on and leaving it in the corner of the room. Eric pried the paint can open and Violet started lining the room with painting tape. For the first time in a long time, you were all stuck in an uncomfortable silence. waiting for something to happen.

But the day went off without a hitch. It was late in the evening when you finished painting the walls and your friends got ready to leave. “You know, if this was your way of trying to get free labor out of us, fair play to you.” Vi joked, slinging her bag over her shoulders at the door. “But honestly, I’m kind of bummed.”

You shook your head. “I swear I wasn’t, guys. I’m sorry. God, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Eric came up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey it’s alright, you can- well I mean if you want you can stay with us for-”

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by a small thud and a clattering sound coming from the room right above you, the office. All three of you looked up at the ceiling, then at each other, before making a quick pace back upstairs. You flicked the light back on to see that the half-empty bucket of paint you’d left was now on it’s side, and the color of the floor now matched the walls.

“...Dude, this thing is an asshole.” Vi said bluntly, earning a quiet plea from Eric not to make it mad.

“I knew it! I told you! There’s no way this shit just happens, right?” Despite the fact your floor was ruined, you couldn’t help but get excited. “I mean it’s ridiculous but this happens all the time.”

“Okay, this is going to get even cooler, beeecause...” Vi grinned, pulling her bag back around and digging through it until she found what she was looking for, something wrapped in a beige cloth. “Guess what I brought.”

You watched her unwrap what turned out to be a planchette, which had been wrapped in what turned out to be a cloth Ouija board. Eric coughed nervously, taking a small step back towards the stairs, “I actually uh..I can’t stay, I sort of have a-a doctors appointment! Yeah, that. That’s what I have to get to.”

“It’s seven at night.”

“Yeah, um...it’s therapy. You know, they stay open late and...yeah.” And with that Eric excused himself from any further ‘ghost hunting,’ fleeing out the front door. Before you could also object to the idea of talking to the ghost, Vi grabbed your hand and pulled you along to the living room.

“Do you have any candles?” She asked, kneeling down on the floor and spreading out the Ouija board.

“I have a couple scented candles we could light, I guess...” You shrugged and went around collecting them. You started to say something more but stopped to rethink it. This was ridiculous. Lighting candles for a ouijia board? Acknowledging any of this ghost nonsense felt silly enough to you, just a couple months ago stuff like this was all a big joke to you. But what other explanation could there be for everything you had experienced? Maybe you should have done a bit more research, set up a camera or-

“Y/n?” Vi called out from the floor, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Swallowing your pride, you brought the candles and a matchbox over and kneeled across from her. “So since when are you interested in all this, anyway?”

“What, ghosts and stuff?” She stayed quiet for a moment as she helped you set the candles up on either side of the two of you. “I dunno, I guess I’m just starting to notice that maybe...things aren’t as they seem. Kind of like you. But I actually find it fun. So, are you ready to do this?”

You nodded. “I guess so...” Placing your fingers on the planchette, you took a deep breathe before you started. “Hello?”

“Hello? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Shush.”

“I’m just saying, maybe-” “It’s my house that’s haunted so-”

HELLO

You both fell silent again, glancing up at each other. She looked like she might explode from excitement and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Then, you kept going. “My name is Y/n, this is my friend Violet.”

I K N O W

“What’s your name?”

The planchette began to move again, but this time rather than settle on any letters or even move towards ‘No,’ it moved to a blank patch of the cloth.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you waited for any movement, but it didn’t come. “Do you have a name?”

D O N O T R E M E M B E R

‘Oh.’ You felt a pang in your heart at that.

Vi pouted a little, her head tilting to the side. She was the next to ask something. “What are you?”

G H O S T

“Alright-”

M A Y B E

“...Maybe?”

D O N O T R E M E M B E R

Chills ran down your spine. That was not a comforting thought. “Is there anything else in the house with us?”

“You’ve really been scaring my friend, you know.” Vi said, looking cautiously around the room as she spoke.

I K N O W

It took everything you had to keep your shaking hands on the planchette. “Do you want me to leave?”

Nothing happened. You waited, your heart pounding out of your chest. The sun had officially set, making the house pitch black aside from your little pocket of candlelight. You could almost make out a shadow over the board, it’s source seemingly coming from behind you. You didn’t dare mention it. “Do you want to be alone here again? Because I’d understand that.”

Even more dead silence.

Violet let out a sharp sigh, taking one hand off the planchette, despite your objection, to rub her temple. “Are you still there?”

YES

“I just want to understand why you’re doing this.” You said, much quieter than you meant.

S O R R Y

“You’re sorry?”

S T A Y

“But...what?”

You and Violet sat there for another thirty minutes, asking questions and waiting for answers that never came. The spirit was apparently done talking. “Alright, well...” Violet stood up, putting her bag back on.

“What? Wait, I don’t get any of this. What do I do?” You began to panic, not entirely sure if you should be leaving the board yet.

“You can have the board, keep trying tomorrow, I don’t know. Look-” Her tone was coming off uncharacteristically harsh now, as she avoided your eyes. “My head is splitting, think it’s all the candle fumes. I’m gonna breeze off, good luck though.”

You squinted at the door when it hit you what she said. "Breeze off?” Shaking it off, you turned your attention back to your unusual roommate. “Okay, I’m going to call it a night I guess. I have paint to clean up so,” You moved the planchette to ‘Goodbye,’ taking your hands off and being seconds away from blowing out the candles when it moved all on it’s own.

G O O D N I G H T

#blankgameplays x reader #blankgameplays fanfiction #blankgameplays x you #I wrote this in a burst in one day and if there are typos they are hiding from me

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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The Sky’s Tsunami - Chapter 13

3rd Person POV

A few hours later, the Bus lands at the Slingshot. By this point, Natasha was back to her normal self, teasing (Y/n).

The two sisters walk down the spiral staircase, Natasha walking over, sitting at the end of hangar doors her back leaning against one of the walls.

"Hey Coulson, how's LOLA?" (Y/n) asks.

"Not a scratch," Coulson answers.

"How she should be," (Y/n) says with a smile.

Skye descends the spiral staircase and walks up behind (Y/n) and Coulson.

"Not a scratch," Skye says, making (Y/n) jump a little. Skye smiles apologetically before continuing. "But you're plane's totaled. I hope SHIELD insurance covers hijackings."

"Of course, under accidentals," (Y/n) says with a grin.

Skye chuckles lightly, crossing her arms. "What exactly am I signing up for?"

(Y/n) laughs, her (E/c) eyes sparkling and Natasha looks back, smiling at her sister.

"So far, the craziest show on Earth," (Y/n) says.

"Yeah, well, I didn't think it'd get this crazy, this fast," Skye reasons, "all for an object you're just gonna destroy."

"Slingshot is protocol," Coulson tells Skye.

"A weapon like the 0-8-4 is too dangerous for any person or country to have," (Y/n) continues. "People like Reyes would always be after it."

"What happened with Reyes, anyway?" Skye asks and (Y/n) raises a ginger eyebrow.

"She's being held at a SHIELD detainment facility," Coulson tells Skye. "I expect the Peruvian government will negotiate for her release. She probably won't spend much time in jail."

"No, I mean what happened with you and Reyes?" Skye asks. "You totally did it back in the day, right?"

(Y/n) chokes back a laugh as Coulson replies, "That's classified."

Skye laughs as Coulson walks away.

"We blew up a plane," Fitz says as he walks down the stairs with a cooler of beer. He holds out the cooler and (Y/n) takes a beer out and goes to sit beside Natasha. (Y/n) hands the beer to her sister and Natasha takes it with a smile.

"Hey, come on," Fitz says, sitting down in the middle of the doors, Simmons taking up a place beside him. "So, it'll take about a hundred and eighty days to reach the Sun. Of course, if they'd used hydrogen-fueled APUs, but they're having fun."

"How man of those have you guys had?" Skye asks as Ward and May sit down on either side of FitzSimmons, taking a beer from the cooler.

Simmons laughs, "Skye, it's important when in the field to unwind from time to time."

"Yeah, yeah, especially after a hard day of everyone almost dying," Fitz pipes up.

"Which doesn't happen every day, right?" Simmons asks and the Romanoff sisters exchange looks. "It''s an anomaly - an irregularity."

(Y/n) and May meet gazes and May smirks at the former assassin.

"Not . . . the norm," Simmons says.

"Speaking of 'not the norm,' whose idea was it to blow a hole in the plane?" Coulson says and (Y/n) glances around before speaking.

"I said that the door -" (Y/n) begins, but Skye interupts her.

"May and (Y/n) said that the doors were tied to the pressurization, so I thought -"

"So we," Simmons emphasizes the word we, "thought it was the only way to release them."

"It was everyone's idea, sir," Ward says and May nods.

"Yes," Fitz adds. "Quite genius, really."

"Nice work," Coulson says and (Y/n)'s eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Fury's not gonna like this," (Y/n) says and Natasha nods. "I can't believe it took us six days to blow a hole in the side of this plane."

"Oh, time for blastoff," Fitz says and everyone looks at the rocket. Fitz pinches his nose, "Launching . . . In three . . . Two . . . One."

The rocket blasts off and (Y/n) leans into her sister and Natasha nudges her affectionately in return.

"The trajectory will take it beyond the Lagrange point so that it doesn't hit Herschel."

"And there haven't been any coronal mass injections, so it shouldn't lose telemetry."

"Guys," Ward tells FitzSimmons. "English."

"Really, Rushman? Really, Coulson?" Fury asks Coulson, (Y/n) standing to the left of the agent. "Six days? It only took you six days to take a completely renovated piece of state-of-the-art machinery and turn it into scrap?!"

"Our team acted with our authority," Coulson says and (Y/n) nods in agreement.

"Don't talk to me about authority," Fury says softly, his voice seething with anger. "Do you know how much this plane cost? It's got a bar." Fury walks over to the said bar, placing his hands on it. "A really nice one. You talking to me about authority. You know, I have the authority to downgrade your asses to a Winnebago."

"We're aware of that, sir," (Y/n) says, meeting Fury's gaze steadily with her own.

"Well, I want it fixed just like you found it," Fury says. "So don't have FitzSimmons going making modifications, like, like a damn fish tank." He turns to (Y/n) now. "Send your sister to me. I know she's here."

(Y/n) nods and jogs downstairs where she finds Natasha and Skye talking.

"Tasha?" (Y/n) says as she steps off the final step.

Natasha looks over and hums in response.

"Big Boss Man wants to see you," (Y/n) says and Natasha nods. She says good-bye to Skye and retreats upstairs. "Oh, FitzSimmons!" (Y/n) says and both scientists stick their heads out the lab doors. "We're gonna have to kill the fish tank."

Fitz pouts and Simmons nods dejectedly.

Word Count: 943 words

Taglist:

@rail-me-romanoff

@theofficialzivadavid

#Skye #skye x fem reader #skye x romanoff reader #skye x reader #Daisy Johnson #daisy johnson x fem reader #daisy johnson x romanoff reader #natasha romanoff x sister reader #honorary dad phil coulson #dad coulson x romanoff reader #mom melinda may x romanoff reader

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rinthehufflepuff · 4 years

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Agent M pt. 4

Parings: Clintasha x Reader

Summary: You’ve been on the run for four years, never staying in one place too long, until you stumble across an abandoned house that seems the perfect place to bunker down in for the winter. Just as you’re getting comfortable, however, and the seasons start to change, the homeowners appear and they are far different from anything you could have expected.

Warnings: Language, guns, blood, panic

Series Masterlist

You were on edge all day. After another night of no sleep - you had instead spent the night doing odd jobs around the house that you deemed quiet enough to not wake Clint and Natasha - you were exhausted, but the buzz of machinery kept you awake as it always did. There wasn’t anything wrong at work, you had gotten a small pay increase from Mr. Wormwood, who owned the garage, and the rest of the workers had fully accepted that you were shy but good at your job - better than the rest of them and able to fix anything they threw at you. No, what had you jumpy was the white Ford Crown Victoria with a black stripe and large red letters clearly spelling out who owned the car.

Thus far, you had managed to avoid the police. Living in the woods meant you saw them every once in a while when you came across a road, but you hadn’t come in contact with an officer in four years. You do your best to not fidget too much, but once the garage closes, you know you can’t ride home on the road. The police car is still parked just down the road. You get the distinct impression it’s waiting for you.

You’re relieved that the garage sits on the edge of the woods and that you park your bike in the back. With one last look at the cruiser, you begin the long walk through the woods with your bike at your side. You had scouted the area several months ago when you first came upon the town, but with the trees and other vegetation thriving and green in the summer heat, you were having trouble picking your way towards the house. You spent hours just wandering, careful to not stray towards where you thought the road was in case there were cars patrolling for you.

You had to leave. You had to pack your bag and run as far away as you could. You shouldn’t have stayed once winter broke. You had been stupid, so very stupid. Of course, he would find you.

It’s nearly dark by the time you know where you are, the house just visible through the trees and you sigh in relief. Then the shot of a gun. A dog barking. Angry yelling. For a split second, you freeze. Then, you’re running, crashing through the trees and bushes and overgrown grass. The river. You had to make it to the river! Panic and adrenaline surge through you as they hadn’t in years, not since you were spotted in Alabama. You can’t be bothered to try and be silent as you move because the dogs could catch you anyway. They could scent you now that they had been to the house. The river would help, the moving water would help mask your smell and they might lose you.

When you finally reach the river, you throw yourself into the mud and roll, doing your best to completely cover yourself in the muck. Only when you are satisfied that every inch of you is coated in mud do you wade into the river and let yourself drift downstream, careful to keep your head above the water to watch the banks and listen for movement. You can’t gauge how long you’ve been floating, but the sun has been gone for a long time and the cool night air has fully settled. Knowing you couldn’t use the river all night, you make your way to the bank and search for a place to hunker down for the night. What you end up finding is a fallen tree. Though it’s long since dead, you know you can use the branches and the surrounding vegetation to help camouflage yourself.

You don’t sleep the whole night, terror fuelling you rather than mechanics. Every small noise makes you shrink into the grass and hold your breath. The cool night air is made worse by your wet clothes and hair and the mud caked to your skin. You can’t stand the cold, but you know you have no other choice. You couldn’t be caught.

><><><><><

Y/N wasn’t home. Clint had taken Natasha to the store to get whatever it was she needed for okroshka soup - another Russian dish she insisted on making for Y/N since you enjoyed it when she made food from her homeland. Except, Natasha hadn’t been able to find everything so they ended up getting sausages and peppers to grill since it was getting late and they were sure you were wondering where they were. When he pulled up to the house, however, you were nowhere to be seen. He searched the barn first, then your room and the roof since you liked laying on the shingles and read whatever Natasha had “accidentally” left lying around the house. The bike you took to work, his old bike he would take into town when he was going alone and didn’t want to drive, wasn’t near the porch either.

It is seven forty-five when a police cruiser pulls into the driveway and Clint can’t help but think about that first day. How you pleaded with him to not call the authorities. The panic so plane in your eyes that he would have done anything you asked at that moment. He doesn’t want to go out to investigate, but Natasha is scouring the woods nearby on the off chance you had decided to explore the property like he had suggested you do not too long ago.

“Can I help you,” Clint asks, Lucky at his side. The dog was just as antsy as he was, pawing at the ground and looking around.

“I sure hope so,” the officer smiles, but it’s tight and his eyes aren’t focussed on Clint. His hand is already resting on his gun. “I’m looking for a woman. About Y/H tall, H/C hair, E/C eyes, pretty scared up with a small tattoo on her left hand that looks like a C with two lines on the bottom curve. She’s currently wanted in connection with a gang shooting in Florida a few weeks ago.”

Lies. Even without the timing being wrong, Clint can feel the lies wash over him and it pisses him off.

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Clint shrugged. Lucky growled at his side and the officer narrows his eyes. “Haven’t seen you around here, you new?” When the officer doesn’t answer Clint glances around the area thinking you had popped out of nowhere, but he’s still alone with the officer and Lucky. “Look, I’m going to need to see your badge, man. I don’t know you and you’re awful edgy for someone just looking for some woman.”

“No.” The brisk response sets him off and he gives Lucky the command to get Natasha. In the split-second Lucky begins to move, the officer draws his gun and fires, just barely missing the retriever as he dashed to the side and begins to bark for the Russian.

“The fuck, man? Who the hell shoots a half-blind dog?” Clint can’t help but yell. You aren’t here to get scared over the noise so it doesn’t matter. If anything, yelling would just make Natasha get to him sooner.

“You’re the one harboring-”

“I suggest you leave before I have to do something you won’t have enough time to regret.” Natasha is at his side, gun drawn and her eyes trained on the officer. “Now!” It’s nothing less than an order and though the officer looks like he wants to shoot them both, he slowly backs up to his car and leaves.

“Did you find her,” Clint asked, his hand buried in Lucky’s fur for comfort. Clint knew the local police, knew they wouldn’t ever come to his property without calling ahead because they were under the impression Clint was with the Feds. Whoever that was wasn’t any of the local guys - and he was looking for you.

“Thought I saw some movement on my way over here, but you were my priority,” Natasha sighs. “We should check it out now though, especially since she isn’t answering her phone…”

Clint doesn’t like the edge in Natasha’s voice, not at all. You were quiet, eerily so at times as you crept about as if you, yourself, were also a spy, but you had grown on the agents within days. After Clint’s two weeks away, Natasha had seemed so much closer with you, more attentive and relaxed. Clint knew whatever had happened while he was gone had created a severe attachment for his girlfriend. But then there was the issue of how once he had come back you didn’t seem to sleep. Dark circles had started appearing beneath your large, E/C eyes that made Natasha shift and steal glances at you and make more coffee than she normally would - even with Clint’s caffeine habit. He could hear you in the dead of night as you shuffled and grumbled as you made your way past their room to go work on some meaningless project to keep yourself awake. Something was upsetting you and now you were missing.

“You should go check it out, just take Lucky with you. I’m going to call the station and see what was up with rent-a-cop,” Clint huffed, scanning the tree line. If Natasha had seen you, if you had tried to come back to them, you were either long gone or curled up nearby. He could only hope it was the latter option.

><><><><><

Natasha felt numb. The bike - your bike - was abandoned in a bush just a few yards into the treeline. You had been here. Leading away from the bike was a trail of broken foliage that Lucky followed, his nose pressed to the ground, leading to the river where you liked to fish. Even in the dim light, she could make out a large disruption in the bank, the muddy indent just the right size to have been created by a person. By you. Swearing, Natasha pulled out her phone and called Clint. If you had bailed into the river...well the evenings were getting cooler and Natasha’s mind still rung with your words from all those nights ago. You wouldn’t be in your right mind to begin with and the cool evening air was going to make everything worse.

If you didn’t get tired out from trying to keep afloat in the current and drown. Natasha did her best to push that line of thought out of her mind.

“Nat? You there?”

“Yeah...I’m here,” Natasha replied, making her way down the river a bit. You wouldn’t have tried to swim upstream. “I’m ninety percent sure she was nearby when the gunshot went off. It looks like she panicked and jumped into the river - she went full stealth too, I found a pretty good hole in the mud that looked like someone had rolled in it.”

“D’you think she went far?”

“Can’t have, at least not too far. Clint, she’s gotta be terrified out here, and it’s almost dark. We can’t...I can’t…”

“Stay where you are and I will meet you with flashlights and a medkit. I’ll call the garage and leave a message so they know Y/N won’t be in for the next few days. We’ll find her Nat. We’ll get Y/N home and we can talk this all out and help her.”

Natasha wanted to believe him when Clint said that they would find you - that you would come home and she could help you and that you would be alright. But she knew there was every chance that that wouldn’t happen. Over the years, Natasha had seen too much. Too much violence, too much fear and panic and hate, too much bad - and those experiences made it just that much harder to believe the man who had saved her all those years ago. Still, she would look for you - wouldn’t let her darker thoughts stop her from searching all through the night and into the next day to find you.

The pair searched for hours, Clint having swum his way across the river so that they could search both banks and the surrounding areas. Everywhere they looked, they saw you - washed up on the bank, crouched behind bushes and in the tall grass, even hidden in the branches of trees. They had been trained to track people, S.H.I.E.L.D and the Red Room had both required extensive training for just this purpose, but Natasha wasn’t an expert tracker and neither was Clint. This, unfortunately, meant that they were much slower than they wanted to be.

Clint was sure you would have gotten out of the water at some point. You would have gotten tired and needed to hunker down for the night, but Natasha was constantly watching the surface and the fallen trees with branches that were bound to cling to debris. Her stomach twisted every time she thought she saw you tangled in those branches, limp and beyond her reach.

Without warning, just as the sky began to lighten, Lucky took off into the brush, tail high and ears perked. Natasha wasn’t far behind, careful to be quiet even though the light would alert you if you were awake.

><><><><><

You couldn’t be sure when you passed out. Somewhere during the night, you had heard several male voices, and in a panic, you had tried to change hiding spots. Except they saw you. Muted gunshots echoed in your ears as you had broken into a sprint to the river, sure that if you could throw yourself into the current you would have a chance of getting away. Just at the edge, though, another shot rang out and you felt a familiar explosion of pain in your side. You didn't have time to stop and try to staunch the bleeding, to feel for an exit wound, as you flung yourself into the river and let yourself sink. Only when your lungs were about to give out did you surface and let yourself drift for a while before dragging yourself out on what you hoped was the opposite bank. As you lay in the mud, you felt your abdomen for the exit wound, sighing in relief when you found one. You didn't want to risk running around with a bullet buried in you. Forcing yourself into an upright position, you stripped off your shirt from beneath the grey jumpsuit you were still wearing from work and ripping it down the middle before tying it securely around where you hoped the wounds were. It would have to be good enough because you couldn’t see and neither could you afford to stay on the bank any longer than you already had.

Struggling to your feet, you pushed into the woods and away from the river, trying to strain your eyes in the darkness for a suitable place to hide. Except it was pitch black and you couldn’t see anything. You weren’t surprised when your ankle twisted under you and you tumbled into a small ditch. Annoyed, yes, but at least you had a chance of being a little harder to spot. Your ankle throbbed and your abdomen continued to radiate pain as you lay in near silence, straining to hear even the slightest noise, the tiniest indication of not being alone. Except when you heard nothing except the wind and crickets, the burning behind your eyes finally got to be too much and you closed them. Only for a minute, you had told yourself, just to ease the burning. Except it wasn’t just a moment because you ended up passing out.

You drifted in and out after that, not completely sure if you were awake or dreaming. In the darkness, Lucky appeared, then Natasha, her face twisted into a grimace. Then Clint was there and there were muffled sounds, maybe talking, but you couldn’t grasp anything more before you were swallowed by blackness again. Pressure on your abdomen. Stabs of pain at the slightest movement. Swaying. Nausea. Soft warmth and running water. Gentle whispers and soft fur. Something vaguely sweet and floral. Coffee.

The next time you were aware of anything beyond pain and darkness, you were warm and comfortable, though thoroughly disoriented. For a moment, you panic. They must have found you and hauled you away while you were weak from blood loss and exhaustion. But that couldn't be what had happened, you were too comfortable. The warm pressure on either side of you was relaxing, enough so that within seconds your eyes drifted closed again, any worry of having been found by the wrong people dissipating.

When you were finally lucid and fully awake, you realized where you were. The familiar light blue walls of Clint and Natasha’s room were made softer by the early morning light coming through the sheer, white curtains that you and Natasha had found at a garage sale one day when you were running errands. Shifting slightly, careful to not upset the dull throb in your abdomen and ankle, you could see Lucky sleeping at the foot of the bed with his stuffed lion between his paws and Clint curled up in a chair in the far corner, fast asleep.

Since he had gotten back, you had made a conscious effort to talk to him more outside of meals and house repairs. Clint was nice, as you had always known, but you learned it was a niceness born out of genuine kindness rather than wanting something out of you. He kept his distance most of the time, careful to not be too close or too loud even though you knew he would normally do both because you saw him do it with nearly everyone else he met. As a result, you had gotten more comfortable around Clint, not freezing up whenever he walked into a room or tried to strike up a conversation. You had made the effort partially because Natasha trusted him and you trusted Natasha, but also because you felt guilty for taking advantage of his offer to stay in his home and then avoiding him. Now the guilt was even worse.

Rule five - you were supposed to call Clint or Natasha if you ever felt unsafe.

You hadn’t ever stopped to consider calling Clint or Natasha when you were at the garage. Instead, you had taken forever to get home through the woods and then bolted at the first sign of danger instead of trusting that they would help. That was another thing...you had very likely broken rule three and unintentionally brought unwanted company to the house - and then left Natasha and Clint to deal with the situation on their own. You were supposed to trust them, but you had reverted to your old mindset at the first sign of danger. Needless to say, the realization felt about as unpleasant as the gunshot wound.

And yet here you were, in their bed, as safe as you could possibly be with Him looking for you.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard, Myshka.” You turn to see Natasha slipping into the room with a steaming mug and a paper medicine cup, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I - I’m sorry I ran,” you sniffled. “I should have called you when I was at work and then someone was here and it was probably the police and I know you don't want people here at the house but I-”

“Myshka, Y/N, it’s alright,” she soothed, sitting on her half of the bed and sipping at whatever she had brought up. “We aren’t mad at you. Worried, yeah - we were very worried when you weren’t home, and you just about gave Clint a heart attack when we realized you had been shot - but you’re here and you’re safe. That’s all that matters to us, Myshka.”

“How did you even find me? I know I wasn’t all that careful, but…”

“It’s part of our jobs,” Natasha shrugged, reaching over and gently running her fingers through your hair. You, for the first time, realize that you aren’t covered in dried mud and that you are actually very clean, not to mention not in your own clothes. You have no clue what you’re wearing in the way of pants, but you’re in a tank top - the first in many years - and your scars are exposed. You feel completely naked, but it somehow doesn’t bother you as much as it should. You could see Clint and Natasha’s scars all the time as they both had several, so you knew they wouldn’t think any different of you for having some too, but you had been so used to wearing long sleeves that it almost felt wrong to not be wearing them now. Noticing you staring down at your arms, Natasha sighs. “We had you get you clean, Y/N. We didn’t want to risk any kind of infection.”

“It’s just...I don’t think I’ve looked at them in a while. I try not to when I shower, and I’ve always got them covered with long sleeves...do - do you think they look bad?”

“Yeah,” Clint huffs, adjusting himself in the chair, “bad-ass.”

“You dork, that’s not what she meant,” Natasha scoffs, but you can see she’s a little amused. “They look fine, Y/N. Honestly, they’re better than some of Clints. There's one on his ass-”

“We are not talking about Budapest,” Clint yelped, waving his hands in front of him as if it would stop Natasha from talking about whatever happened. For what felt like the first time in a long while, you huffed out a laugh. Though, you immediately regretted it when your side aches in pain.

“Here, these’ll help,” Natasha said, handing you the medicine cup with four different pills in the bottom. “We don’t normally have to break them out at home, but we use them all the time at work.”

You felt horrible when you looked down at the small plastic cup and your stomach twisted at the sight of the pills. You knew that Natasha wouldn’t give you anything that would hurt you, having passed that stage a while ago, but you were still nervous. Natasha wasn’t Him. Clint wasn’t Him. Even still, your first instinct was to tongue the pills and spit them out the first chance you got.

Forcing down the nagging voices in the back of your head, you tip the cup back and swallow the pills dry. Natasha gave you a small smile, and even Clint looked proud that you had taken the pills after only a small moment of hesitation. You knew as well as they did that even just a few weeks ago you would have tried to avoid accepting the medication altogether.

“You’ll have to keep taking them for a while,” Clint sighs, the smile slipping away. You realized almost immediately that you missed it. “That wound in your side isn’t pretty, and it’s more than likely is gonna scar pretty bad, but we’ll try to do what we can to prevent the worst of it. You did well though, Y/N, that shirt you had all tied up probably stopped you from bleeding out before we found you.”

“Well at least I managed to do something right,” you huffed. “Shouldn’t’ve been shot in the first place.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Natasha growls, and you can’t help but shrink into the bed and try to make yourself smaller. The action does not go unnoticed by either Clint or Natasha, and the redhead is quick to begin carding her fingers through your hair again. “I didn't mean it like that,” she sighed. “I’m not mad at you, Y/N, I just…”

“We worry,” Clint said, getting up and sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed near your feet. It was probably the closest you had ever been to him without flinching away. “Natasha and I can’t help you if we don’t know what you need, Y/N. Someone’s looking for you, and they were desperate enough to steal a police car and uniform to find you. Y/N,” Clint gently lay a hand on your uninjured ankle, the blankets keeping him from making actual skin contact, “please, let us help you.”

Glancing up at Natasha, the redhead gives you an encouraging smile and lightly squeezes your shoulder. You had been safe here for months and, at some point, the farm had turned into your home. You had lost home a long time ago, but you remembered that home was the people around you, not necessarily a place.

Natasha was home. Her small, reserved smiles and twinkling eyes that seemed to know so much more than she let on made you feel warm and safe. She was quiet and attentive, unobtrusive in her small gestures - food you enjoyed, an umbrella by the door when it might rain, small, barely-there touches in passing.

Clint was home, too. This was harder to admit to yourself because he looked like Him in so many ways that for a while you had jumped every time you saw him. But, somehow, Clint’s loud laugh and quirky sense of humor soothed your frayed nerves after long days of working. His stubborn attempts at getting closer to you now endearing rather than frightening. His clunky steps echoing in the house because he never remembered to take off his shoes were a distant reminder that you weren’t on your own anymore. Where Natasha sent silent encouragement, Clint always seemed to be brimming with praise over the smallest acts.

You trusted them. Everything could go so unbelievably wrong in a split second - it was a constant threat that seemed even more real now - but you weren’t as scared as before. They had followed after you - brought you home and kept you safe and warm and alive - when you had run at the sight of danger.

You didn’t want to lose this home.

You drew in a rattling breath glared at your arms.

“His name was James…”

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girlbookwrm · 5 years

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Avengers: Age of Art Movie? ART?? MOVIE

DAY ONE

the title for this chapter of the Mighty Pre-Endgame Rewatch comes from the fact that Joss Whedon apparently said, of Age of Ultron:

“I was trying to make a little art movie. Which is actually, a pretty shitty thing to do to a studio that gives you a lot of money.”

which??? ok?????

so we went into this looking for Joss Whedon’s Art Movie

It’s worth noting before we get into this that I’m a fan of a lot of things Joss Whedon has done over the years, as much as I give him crap sometimes, and actually, I don’t know that I hate this movie as much as is common. I enjoyed it more than I remember enjoying it in the past? I go back and forth. I saw it in theaters and was like “actually I like this it’s pretty ok” and then I saw it again like “OH NO THIS IS AWFUL” and then again like “OH NO IT’S EVEN WORSE THAN I REMEMBER” and now I’m watching it again like “actually......” and I think it’s that the quality is very. uneven?

it is also worth noting that it took us TWO DAYS to watch this because we kept having to pause the movie in order to GO OFF which meant that this 2 hour 22 minute movie took us like SIX HOURS to watch. at first it was just me and The Roommate @goteamwin but on Day Two the Gal Pal @pegasuschick joined us.

anyway on with the rewatch (day one)

I STILL MISS THE OLD MARVEL LOGO! SO MUCH!

So the opening shot of this movie is from the twins’ POV and this was the first point that we paused the movie to fully Go Off because goddamn

can you imagine how much better this battle scene would be from the twins’ pov?

like: there’s all these explosions and shaky cam and a monster roaring and you’re like “oh god is it aliens? it must be aliens? and these soldiers dying everywhere and the city is getting destroyed etc etc

and then you realize it’s not aliens, it’s not HYDRA, it’s not some terrible overpowered terrorists

it’s the Avengers.

now THAT would be an art film

anyway back to the rewatch

Steve Rogers: IT IS 2015, I AM NINETY SEVEN YEARS OLD AND I AM STILL FIGHTING NAZIS I AM T I R E D

this is all looking real fake it has not aged well and it wasn’t that great to start with

“they’re the avengers” he said, sounding so confused and so so tired

aaaaaand here we paused the movie AGAIN to talk for twenty minutes, mostly about how if this whole “”’”art movie”’’’’’’’ had been shot from the Twins perspective, that would have been a better set up for Civil War and also super interesting

“We are here to help” why is the Iron Legion speaking Very American English in an eastern? european? city

Old Man Dad Clint

there’s two weirdly different movies happening here and they do not sit well together: like, a dark spooky serious one and a quippy Joss Whedon action movie

and don’t get me wrong, one of my favorite things about Joss Whedon is how he uses humor to really give his sad moments Extra Punch he’s a master of that

but this is just jarring

“please be a secret door please be a secret door” followed by the world’s tiniest and most adorable “~yay~” is the most endearing thing Tony has ever done in his life I would die for him

The Problem Is Not Brucetasha.

THE PROBLEM is that the BruceTasha dynamic doesn’t just come out of left field, it comes from a different sport entirely. it comes from another planet.

I think there’s potential for an interesting dynamic here but we get ZERO buildup to it

like in the last movie, Natasha is scared of the Hulk, like, literally shaking in shock TERRIFIED of the Hulk, but we see nothing of her deciding to run directly at the thing that scares her most

and we get ZERO explanation of like -- Natasha likes Bruce AND the Hulk, and Bruce AND the Hulk both like Natasha and that’s an interesting dynamic too, but we get NONE OF THAT

it’s very frustrating

also, where does Wanda’s horror movie aesthetic go? is it the same place her accent goes?

Tony’s dream sequence is... p badly shot, given that it’s his driving motivation for THE REST OF THE SERIES

Me: this is weirdly shot, right?

The Roommate, A Professional: Yes. *in a very fancy voice:* ~From a cinematic perspective~

Me: *starts cracking up*

The Roommate: But seriously, they’ve gone for a weirdly wide angle in this very emotional moment and it would make more sense to do tight shots here, but--

Me: *still cracking up*

The Roommate: really?

Me: ~from a cinematic perspective~ trolololol

AND LITERALLY HERE IS WHERE WE GET THE TITLE CARD. THAT’S HOW LONG, SPIRITUALLY, THIS OPENING IS.

Why was Bruce NOT expecting a Code Green? like? It’s HYDRA, of COURSE they’re gonna pull out all the stops??

We get like two minutes of Thor&Steve&Tony being bros, for the purpose of exposition here, and then the party sequence, and literally the rest of the movie is them all arguing with each other

and we stopped the movie again to talk for ten minutes about how much more Impactful AVENGERS: CIVIL WAR would be if we had even one (1) movie of the Avengers actually being a team

this is exactly why it took us two days to watch this movie

“Uh, actually, he's the boss. I just pay for everything, and design everything and make everyone look cooler.”

And again, we stopped the movie (seriously, it’s our own fault this took so long to watch) because LET’S UNPACK THIS

TONY PAYS FOR EVERYTHING?

TONY MAKES ALL THEIR SHIT?

TONY DOES THEIR DESIGN WORK?

AND LET US NOT FORGET THAT SHIELD RECENTLY FELL APART

WHICH MEANS THAT THIS IS STARK INDUSTRIES PRESENTS: the avengers

and that is A L A R M I N G

legally speaking

and also morally speaking

like goddamn.

no wonder ppl freak out about it? let’s jump on THAT for CW

(also, when we recapped this for the Gal Pal’s benefit on Day Two, she pointed out that Tony puts his name on everything and he probably got that from his daddy -- like in TFA, they’re doing this experiment for the Army but LITERALLY EVERY PIECE OF EQUIPMENT has the Stark Industries tag on it

Steve probably has the SI logo tattooed on his ass

he doesn’t know it

tony knows it

and wishes he didn’t)

all that aside, this is an A+ On Point Steve and i Strongly Disagree with anyone who says that Joss Whedon doesn’t get Steve Rogers.

Like, we very clearly get three distinct Steves in this movie -- we get Captain America, Captain Rogers, and Steve, and they’re all a little different but they’re also all perfectly executed and they’re all STEVE. eg:

the look that he gives Maria, like english please and then after her explanation he says “well they’re going to show up again.” - Captain Rogers.

“Right. What kind of monster would let a German scientist experiment on them to protect their country” - Steve

“They are.” - Captain America

let’s just. let’s just acknowledge that Thanos had a stone. in his possession. and he gave it away. to L O K I.

“I'm going to live forever”

ah geeze he actually is tho

*CLINT FEELS*

They talk about AI like it’s this Great Forbidden Thing, and the Roommate looks at me with the Tiredest Eyes

Everyone is working on artificial intelligence, she says.

e v e r y o n e

seriously “the man was not meant to meddle medley” is a very impressive tongue twister that Tony definitely practiced in the mirror that morning

but it’s also nonsense

the military, corporations, academia, everyone -- everyone is working on AI.

Ultron: What is this. What is this, please.

The Roommate: Me. Every morning.

Also, it’s worth noting that when Ultron goes through all the files on the Avengers and shit, he looks at Steve AT LEAST twice.

The Roommate: To be fair, so would I.

RIGHT RHODES IS THE REAL HERO OF THIS FILM

“Where are the ladies,” said Maria Hill, a Known Lesbian.

Sam and Steve’s whole everything is A+ Great, as usual

Rhodey’s face after everyone laughs at the “Boom, you looking for this” line is just

*kissy chef fingers*

and then this happens

the “flirting”

this is the weirdest “flirting” i have ever seen

it’s like the uncanny valley of cute flirting

it’s like they’re both actors pretending to be characters who are acting out something they’ve only ever seen in film

why is it like this

“What Are Your Intentions Towards My Daughter?” - Steve Rogers

no I kid

Captain America said that

Steve said “as maybe the world’s leading authority on “waiting too long”, don’t.”

and then suddenly they’re all teens hanging out in their dad’s basement

honestly this scene is the best scene in the movie, possibly the franchise, and it’s well worth all the bullshit we’ve put up with so far.

let’s also take a moment to pour one out for both Steve and Thor’s #looks in this scene because

goddamn

Steve and that blue button down

Thor and his hoe v-neck + pop collar maroon jacket

much fashion very hnnnngh

like it takes WORK to make these two look better with their shirts ON but you did it, AoU costume department. You Did It.

Also, James Spader as Ultron is just

i love it

gurl u r LEAKING

u CHOSE this body

u could have taken any iron legion body, you probably could’ve taken a SUIT if you wanted but instead you’re here in this janky ass leaking melty faced body with wires hanging every which way and the arms and legs on backwards

you are such a drama queen

truly his father’s son

so when Tony pulls out JARVIS’ broken corpse, how were they all supposed to know this was JARVIS? do they all get to meet Jarvis at some point? like at what point was Captain America introduced to the holograph representation of JARVIS’ “body” that he just IMMEDIATELY knows that this abstract yellow humpty dumpty is JARVIS

Team Dr. Cho Was Underutilized 2k15

Tony laughing because he’s about to be in so much trouble is very much a #mood

We can bust arms dealers all the live long day, but, that up there? That's...that's the end game.

I’m just going to present this bad phone picture of my notes because I feel like it does a better job summing up how I feel about this line:

remember when Wanda had an accent?

I’d say “good times” but I’m not sure they really were

seriously the Maximoffs have a great origin story this should’ve been theirs and Clint’s movie that would’ve been better

God Bless The AoU Costume Department

I have no idea what happened in this scene because of Steve’s smedium shirt

and that said he has to compete, visually, with Cobie Smulders in a sheath dress, and he does so with effortless grace

*distinguished golf clapping*

I actually really like the set up of Wakanda and Vibranium here it’s just nice and it gives all the background we need without really feeling like exposition and it reveals character dynamic between steve and tony it’s just nice is all

SALVAGE YARD AFRICAN COAST

Andy Serkis giving 112% AS USUAL

So Ultron steps into this scene like

and tbh it is a sexy leg good work Ultron

“I’M NOT MY DAD” -Ultron, definitely in Denial

Pietro talking to Tony in this scene like Tony was personally there when the bomb blew up his family and almost killed him and his sister

he wasn’t

u r drax in this scenario, and Tony is Ronan

he doesn’t remember ur family, dude

“pretending you could live without a war”

are we just going to ignore that Ultron gets inside Steve’s head right here right now and then Wanda exacerbates that 200%

and Steve just decides “yup that sounds right”

“i guess I’ll just be at war for the rest of my unnaturally long long life”

is anyone? going to talk about that? bring it up to him maybe?

no?

coooooool coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool

i just ~love~ (and by love i mean HATE) that natasha romanoff (A SPY) decided to upgrade her suit (HER BLACK STEALTH SUIT) with glowing (GLOWING!) stripes

much stealth very in character wow

(negative 200 points costume department what the hell)

pietro don’t hit senior citizens that’s rude

these dreams are actually totally fascinating and I really like them don’t @ me they’re great

“I Am Mighty.”

“only the breakable ones. You are made of marble”

“We can go home. Imagine it”

aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“Natasha, I could really use a lullaby”

natasha isn’t here right now please leave a message after the beepbeep

this is such a fucking nightmare, could be a callback to that opening fight scene IF IT SUCKED LESS

Tony. Your green son has a special need. maybe instead of trying to turn him back into Bruce, you should try to accommodate his needs. because he’s special.

Clint MacDonald Had A Farm

“These are... Smaller agents.”

“Sorry For Barging In.”

Captain America is here from the 40s and Ready To Apologize

Thor’s Extremely Dramatic Exit

Steve: looks at the house

(very softly in the background, Peggy’s “we can go home.”)

The Roommate: nuuuuuuuuuuuuuu steve don’t think thaaaaaaaat

I honestly love Old Dad Clint. *shrug* sorry not sorry

and now we’re here. at That Scene.

YOU KNOW WHICH ONE.

it makes no FUCKING sense for EITHER OF THEM to be having THIS CONVERSATION at THIS TIME. SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK.

Honestly, the only way this makes sense is if Bruce and Nat are both ace af and think the other one is allo af

just two hopeless asexual babies, adorably in love with each other

both of them awkwardly being like “BUT. YOU WANT THE SEX. RIGHT?”

and neither of them realizing that the other one also does not want the sex

that’s the only way the scene makes any kind of sense. If Natasha is putting on a performance and Bruce is too and neither of them realize that the other is putting on a performance

BUT EVEN THAT DOES NOT EXPLAIN WHY NATASHA FEELS THE NEED TO BRING UP HER UTERUS

THERE’S NO NEED FOR IT IN THIS CONVERSATION

AND THE WAY SHE BRINGS IT UP IS B I Z A R R E

and when i saw it in theaters, I was like “oh clearly this scene is missing some important dialogue that clarifies that Nat doesn’t mean she’s a monster for not being able to have kids.

BUT I WAS WRONG.

UGH ANYWAY MOVING ON.

god bless the AoU costume department for Steve in a Smedium shirt and Dad Jeans. A+ work i can almost forgive you for putting glowing neon on Nat’s stealth suit

but honestly the whole rest of this movie is worth it this one interaction:

Tony: Isn't that the mission? Isn't that the "why" we fight, so we can end the fight, so we get to go home?

Steve:

Captain America: *externally* something something end a war something something people die something something

Steve: *internally* I SWEAR TO FUCK IF ONE MORE PERSON TELLS ME THEY WANT TO GO HOME, IMMA MCFREAKING LOSE IT.

YOU WANT TO GO HOME?? Y O U WANT TO GO HOME??? B I T C H

oh hey Tony ur dad is here

“watched my friends die” ok but

a) are you and Steve friends?

b) if this has been eating at you, why wasn’t it shot better ~from a cinematic perspective~ and why don’t we get more of you being haunted by it and less of you talking about reinstating prima nocta

Actually this is a good time to talk for a hot second about Why We Don’t Hate AoU As Much As Some:

it’s very hard to judge AoU as a standalone film

because a lot of the things it does best are not standalone

it does a good job setting the stage for Civil War

it does a good job foreshadowing Infinity War and Endgame

and on that note, it’s actually hard to judge it without having seen Endgame

it does a BAD job setting up the Avengers as a cohesive unit that works well together

it does a BAD job building the BruceNat dynamic

it does a BAD job making us believe that the Avengers are actually friends and not just coworkers who tolerate each other and sometimes hang out and drunkenly try to pick up thor’s hammer

that isn’t friendship, actually. you know what friendship is? look at Steve and Sam talking about Important Things That Matter, look at Tony and Rhodes’ dynamic. those are friendships.

anyway

The Roommate says it feels like AoU skipped some steps. Like, Avengers (2012) brought us in at the ground floor of this building and then we got shoved into one of those really fast elevators and dumped directly into some game changer meeting happening on floor 44 and then it kicked us directly out the window to our deaths

i’m maybe elaborating slightly upon what she said

the point is that AoU is not a good movie because it’s not a good standalone movie

the character dynamics aren’t Bad or Wrong they’re just not properly built up to.

It feels like we missed a movie

maybe there’s an alternate universe where we got an Avengers 2 that made sense, and this is actually Avengers 3

maybe we just need to find Joss Whedon’s secret file of fanfiction and then everything that happened in this movie will make sense

ALL THAT SAID, THIS IS WHERE WE STOPPED THE MOVIE ON DAY ONE AND MY FINGERS ARE TIRED SO THIS IS WHERE I’M STOPPING TOO. AGE OF ART MOVIE DAY 2 WILL BE UP WHEN I FIND THE ENERGY TO DO THAT.

#the mighty pre endgame rewatch #age of ultron #avengers

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theonewiththefanfics · 6 years

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What We Live For (Part 1)

Synopsys: After Loki’s arrival on Earth, the Reader and the Prince of Asgard form a tight bond, that soon enough develop into mutual love, but neither will admit. Though a fatal injury during a mission might make both reevaluate their feelings.

Part 2

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Genre: fluff; angst

Warnings: minor swearing, mentions of blood

Word count: 6112

Y/N was sweaty beyond belief. It wasn’t just the fact that a sudden heat wave had decided to wash over New York. It wasn’t the fact that Tony and Bruce had blown out the AC while doing an experiment. It was because Steve seemed to be in his sadistic mood. Or so he was in Y/N’s mind. Three hours they had trained in the gym and then he had decided that they needed to go for a run. Outside. In the park. Under the scorching sun. Throwing daggers in his direction while sipping on her water bottle, Y/N thought of the tens of thousands of ways she could murder him. And turning the body into dust wouldn’t be that big of a problem. When you’re a pyrokinetic and can produce fire as hot as the star the Earth revolved around... Let’s just say she was having fun imagining him in pain. “I hate you,” Y/N grumbled for the millionth time while walking towards the common area. “What did Steve do again?” Bucky’s voice invaded her senses. Once the super soldier had officially joined the Avengers, the two quickly bonded. They both loved science and space and spent countless hours staring at the night sky. Well, the simulation that Tony had set up on one of the floors, as New York’s bright lights didn’t allow any to real ones to sparkle through. “He hates me so wanted to see me suffer.” “Nawh, doll. Steve doesn’t hate you.” “Tell that to the ten miles I just had to run. Through New York. In the heat.” “He gets intense, that’s all. You know he means well.” Bucky slung his metal arm around the girl's shoulders and Y/N instantly groaned in pleasure, clinging to the prosthetic. Somehow even through it all, the vibranium didn’t get any hotter, so Bucky had become his fellow Avenger's personal walking cooler. “Yeah, well, I’ll mean well when I set him on fire.” The ex-assassin chuckled and kissed Y/N’s temple as they made their way into the common room. The girl went to the fridge and opened up her water bottle, dropping at least a dozen ice cubes inside and put the now cold water to the nape of her neck.

“How far is Tony with the AC fixing?” “I don’t think he’s that far,” Bucky replied sounding quite distracted. “Looks like he has far more pressing issues right now.” “What is more pressing than not dying of a heat stroke?” As Y/N turned around she started to hear people talking. Loudly. And no party sounded happy. “What’s going on?” She made her way to stand next to Bucky as he observed what looked like to be Tony and Steve facing two larger figures. One was raven-haired and adorned a green, black and gold outfit while the other had sandy blond hair in a buzz cut and an eyepatch. “Who’re they?” “If I had to guess, the one Tony is scolding like a child is Thor and the one Steve looks like he wants to kill with just a glance is Loki. They’re from Asgard. I think the dark haired one tried to take over the world at some point.” “Wow,” Y/N took a sip of her water, “what don’t you miss when you’re not on Earth for like a decade.” “Or when you’re brainwashed by HYDRA.” “True dat,” and the pair fist bumped. Y/N was the only other person in the compound Bucky felt close enough to tell everything. All the little details and what was pressing on his heart, so he was more than comfortable joking about things like his time as the Winter Soldier. And seeing as she hadn’t been on Earth for almost a decade and had quite the amount of culture, music and other things to catch up on, they had bonded, forming a tight relationship and helping one another with adapting to the new society. “Fine!” Tony exclaimed. “But he’s not to be without supervision. At any point in time.” “Man of Iron, my brother has changed. He only tried to kill me twice today.” “Is that supposed to make me feel any better, Point Break? He tried to take over New York. So if even one strand on that head of his goes out of line, I will personally punch him back to space.” The one who Tony had referred to as ‘Point Break’ shrugged and nodded. “Seems fair,” and the raven-haired man rolled his eyes. Steve was still shooting daggers at the man when going to sit by the kitchen island, while Tony stomped away in annoyance. “Hey, kid,” he greeted and hugged Y/N. “Hey, dad,” she affectionately replied. Even though there was no blood relation between the two, the genius had immediately taken a liking to the girl and treated her as if she was his own. So Y/N just went along with it. Down the line, they formed a truly special relationship where she looked at Tony as a father figure. “You stink and need to take a shower.” “And you need to fix the AC, otherwise I’m gonna blame my death on you. And Steve, of course.” Stark chuckled and put his hands in his pockets. “I still don’t get how you can hate heat when you can actually control fire.” “Beats me,” Y/N shrugged and took a sip of her water. She could feel a pair of eyes intently watching her and after scanning the room it turned out to be Loki’s. The green bore into her Y/E/C and it was as if he was sizing her up, judging and observing. “Don’t get too close to that one. He’s nothing but trouble.” With a kiss to her forehead, Tony went away and back to his lab, leaving Bucky, Y/N and Steve with the two Asgardians. “I do not believe we have properly met.” It was Point Break who approached Y/N and Bucky first. “My name is Thor, Son of Odin. God of Thunder. Prince of Asgard.” “Okay,” she handed him his palm expecting a handshake, but instead he kissed the top of it as if in a movie set in the middle ages. “I’m Y/N, but some refer to me as Firebird.” “Ah, so you are like the Man of Hawk.” “You mean Hawkeye? No, I don’t use arrows. I control actual fire. Like the element.” “Impressive. Well, we should have a match against one another. To see which one is more powerful.” “I guess…?” Y/N’s eyebrows shot up in amusement and question as she side eyed Bucky who was masking a chuckle with a cough. Thor’s attention turned to the super soldier and he introduced himself once more. The girl’s attention was taken back to the raven haired man. He was a good head taller than her and had a gaze so piercing she was afraid he could burn a hole through her skull. “I’m Loki.” The voice was deep and smooth. She could imagine having endless conversations with him with hot teas in their hands and books laying in their laps. “Y/N,” he clasped her hand. It was surprisingly cold, but not unwelcome. A bit rough, but not completely callused. “And what are you the god of?” He smiled, a glint appearing in his eyes. “Well, here you refer to me as the God of Mischief and Lies.” “So that means if I want to go to the cinema and get the children’s discount you would be able to talk them into it?” “Y/N,” it was Steve’s warning tone. “Oh come on! You won’t allow me to say that you are actually a hundred years old and get the seniors one. The tickets are fucking expensive!” “Language!” The girl showed him his tongue and reverted her gaze back to Loki. “I assume you’re a prince as well.” “You assume correctly. Though we are adopted,” he looked at Thor who was now in deep conversation with Bucky and walking towards the other brooding super soldier sitting by the counter “I am still considered a royal. And if I am not mistaken you are one of the most feared warriors in all of the nine realms.” “Can’t say much about the nine realms, but I know at least three of them know my name. Well, my pseudonym, I guess.” “The bird of flame, who incinerates the sky and leaves nothing but the ash of her enemies behind.” “Yeah… something like that.” “Well, I shall make sure not to get on the wrong side of you then.” Y/N looked him up and down. Menacing, yes, you could clearly see that spark, the want to disobey authority, but Steve and Tony were making it seem like he was completely irredeemable. To her, the man standing in front didn’t seem like someone who would wish to destroy a city inhabited by millions of people. This man looked like he wanted redemption and just a chance to live life like a normal being. “So,” Y/N went to sit down onto the couch and flipped on the TV while simultaneously pulling off the sweat soaked T-Shirt she had stolen from Bucky, “why do you know who I am and Thor doesn’t? If I’m so infamous I would expect him to recognise the name as well.” “My brother is an oaf,” Loki chuckled and with a glimmer of green his own clothes changed to something more appropriate for Earth and its insanely hot weather. “And I like to pay attention to things I find magnificent.” Y/N quirked an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a smooth one.” “Just stating the facts.” She snorted right as two hands clamped down on her shoulders startling the girl. “Fucking hell, Bucky! You know I hate it when you go into stealth mode.” “Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to scare you. Steve and I are gonna go down and spar for a bit. Thor is apparently coming with.” “Ohh,” Y/N put on her best puppy dog eye look, “please kick Cap’s ass for me. Like, go really hard on him. I’d do it myself, but that would mean putting in actual effort to communicate with the guy and right now I’m pissed for what he made me do.” “Anything for you, love,” Bucky kissed the top of Y/N’s head. “You sure you’re gonna be fine with him alone?” he muttered so that only she could hear, but by the look he was giving Loki, who only smirked and looked at his clasped hands, everyone knew what he was asking. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” “Just… don’t get into too much trouble. Please. For me.” “Sarge, where would be the fun in life if I didn’t?” “You wouldn’t have spent three months in the hospital wing.” “Hey! That was a low blow!” but she was shouting into thin air, as Bucky had already left the room, his bellowing laughter the only answer she got. “You were hurt?” Y/N looked over at Loki, whose eyebrows had creased and she could detect actual worry in them. “Even people with superpowers are not invincible,” a sad smile crossed the girl’s face as the memories of pure and utter pain, of the three months, she was more dead than alive, flooded her mind. “And I guess that would be my warning to you as well." “Warning?” “We’ll probably be sharing a floor and I have very bad nightmares. Night terrors would be more appropriate. So if you hear screaming, don’t be alarmed. No one is trying to kill me. At least not yet.” With that Y/N retreated leaving Loki to his own devices. The Trickster couldn’t help but feel a pull towards the girl, he couldn’t help but want to figure out every little piece to the puzzle that she was. So he set it as his mission while he was staying on Earth. The Avengers might still see him as the person who tried to take over a city while under the influence of the Tesseract, but she didn’t seem to care. And to have at least one friend in the universe would be enough for Loki.

***

The Norse god and Y/N started to grow closer and closer. He felt like someone could finally see the true him and accept every flaw and crack without judgement. Slowly but surely Loki found himself falling for her. A mortal, a Midgardian, but the feelings were undoubtedly there. She had confided in him after several of her nightmares had woken Loki up. He was there, by her side, calming her racing heart and wiping the tears away. It made him furious about whatever incident or whoever had instilled such fear that at night she could not get proper sleep. Y/N didn’t tell what exactly had happened to produce such terrors, but, even though Loki wanted to dig until there was nothing more to find, he just allowed the girl to find peace within his presence. Such an uncharacteristic thing of how people felt around him. “You’re the ice to my fire,” she had said one night as her arms had a death grip on his waist. “I don’t know how you do it or what you do, but in the moments when I feel like I am about to explode, you just… pull me off of the ledge.” “Lokiiiiii!” he was brought back to the present as the girl plopped herself down and into his lap. “Whatcha reading?” “A book.” He closed the piece of literature and placed it down. Usually, he was fine with courting women, but around Y/N, Loki’s heart would beat a mile a minute. “So here’s the deal- Bucky has to go on a stupid mission and he’s leaving me alone, even though he promised he’d go with me, but alas, the world is always getting itself in trouble. That is why I wanted to ask you if you want to go with me to this book expo. And you’ve been cooped up in this place for almost three months now.” “I have been put under house arrest by Stark and Captain Rogers. You know that, Princess.” “Well as your self-appointed best friend, I lift the arrest for at least one day,” the girl ‘knighted’ him with the side of her palm. “Besides, you’ve been good, not getting in trouble. Or like nothing major.” Loki’s heart was about to leap out of his mouth. She was looking at him with such a soft gaze, the Y/E/C orbs holding so much love and care. He knew that there was no world he could possibly deserve her. “Please,” she jutted out her bottom lip and Loki wanted nothing more than kiss her, “pretty please?” He huffed in mock annoyance and hugged her waist. “How can I say no to that face?” “Yes!” she jumped up in triumph. “Be ready in twenty minutes.” Y/N dashed out and Loki was about to follow when suddenly a loud crash came from the hallway. “I’m fine, I’m okay! Go get ready!” “You’ll be the death of me, woman,” but there was no malice to the words, rather pure and unadulterated love. Sure enough in twenty minutes time, a very excited Y/N was waiting for the god by the elevator. “Come on, you snail! All the good ones are gonna be gone if you keep moving so slowly!” Right as the ding went off and the door opened, the Avenger walked straight into a muscular chest. “Shit, sorry, Steve.” “It’s okay,” strong hands gripped onto Y/N as to not let her fall, but all his attention went to the person standing behind her. “And where do you think you’re going?” “To what is called a book expo with Y/N here. As she has informed me mister Barnes and you are going on a mission, so I’ve come to the rescue and shall be accompanying her.” “No, you’re not.” “Steve,” Y/N scolded him, “come on! He’s been good, he hasn’t stepped out of line once.” The super soldier’s gaze instantly softened when looking at the young woman. She had become like a sister to him, the need to keep her safe and taken care of having become a prominent part of his life now. “I’m afraid that also involves you. We need all hands on deck for this one.” Y/N groaned in annoyance. “Seriously? I’ve been waiting months for this!” “Sorry, pumpkin. But it’s bigger than anticipated. And as much as I hate this, we need your help as well, Loki.” That took the Trickster by surprise. “Mine?” “Yes, yours. So go and get suited up.” Loki looked at Y/N whose mood had suddenly changed completely. It was like a dark cloud had settled over the usually happy girl. “Princ-“ he started, but she cut him off mid-sentence. “Loki, can I talk to Steve alone? I’ll meet you on the jet.” He didn’t want to leave, he wanted to know what had suddenly made her go so rigid, but respecting Y/N’s wishes he made the battle armour appear and went to the jet. “Steve, I’m not ready to go out in the field. Not after that. I know it’s been a while, but I can’t.” Y/N was on the verge of a panic attack and Cap could clearly see that. “Doll, you’ll be fine. You may not think you aren't well enough to go into the field, but I know you are. And you’ll be right by me, by Bucky’s and Nat’s sides every second of it. I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t necessary.” “You promise?” she squeezed his palms so tightly he could feel the fire burning through her veins and heat up his own skin. “You promise you’ll be there? Next to me?” “Every step of the way.” Her insides were trembling. Y/N wasn’t ready, but the Avengers needed her, so gathering all the nonexistent courage, she went to her room and quickly changed into the fireproof tactical gear specifically designed by Tony and Shuri. With wobbling legs, she stepped into the hangar and onto the jet which immediately disappeared between the clouds. Loki was already standing up to ask if she was alright, but it was like he didn’t exist like he was a wall. Y/N walked straight past him and sat down next to Bucky, gripping onto his metal arm. Jealousy shot through the man. Of course, there would be more going on between the two of them. How could he have been so blind? She was just trying to be nice, to make him feel welcome. The honorary Avenger scoffed at how he had allowed himself to develop feelings for a simple mortal woman, but as much as he tried to turn his mind to hate, Y/N he couldn’t. Saddened eyes glanced at the girl who had her head on the Winter Soldier’s shoulder. But what Loki didn’t see was glazed over Y/E/C orbs that were trained on one spot. He didn’t see the white-knuckled grip Y/N had on Bucky’s palm. He didn’t see the shaky lip as she relived the last mission that had almost cost her her life. Loki didn’t hear the reassuring whispers from Bucky as he tried to calm Y/N down. He didn’t hear him try and change her state of mind so that she could focus on the mission and protecting herself. He kept reminding his best friend that he would be right there with her, as would Natasha and Steve. He kept reminding how strong and irreplaceable she was to the team. Which all of it was true, but even Bucky had to admit Y/N wasn’t ready and the glare he threw to where Steve was standing and arguing with Tony about something was enough to express every word racing through his mind.

***

They arrived way too quickly for Y/N’s liking, but then again, if things had gone the way Y/N had wanted them to, she would be at a book expo with Loki. “Y/N you’re with me, Nat and Bucky. Tony, Sam I need you high in the sky wiping out the perimeter. Thor, Wanda, Vision you take up the east side, Pietro and Loki, take the west. Rhodey and Clint have the north and the Hulk will be taking care of the south. Everyone got it?” A chorus of ‘roger that’, ‘yep’ and ‘whatever’ rang through the jet before people piled out and immediately joined in the fight. “It’s gonna be easy. In and out. You just gotta melt the door. We all will have your back,” Nat put a reassuring palm on Y/N’s shoulder. “Burn bright, little star,” the redhead said and with that, she rushed out to start and clear the path to the HYDRA base. It was an act for Y/N. All of it. The bravado, the carefree attitude, the person she used to be before her last mission- it was now a completely different version compared to the broken shell of who she had become. But for the others, for the Avengers, for her little dysfunctional family, she would become whoever they needed her to be. For Loki who she had fallen for. Even when her feet stumbled and she almost tripped, when deadly fear gripped her throat so tight she couldn’t breathe, she would do it. The battle was bloody. No matter how many agents she turned into ash and no matter the number of bullets turned into pure liquid as she made walls of fire appear out of thin air and wove into scorching snakes, Y/N could see only red. And on the inside, an old wound had started to hurt. It took them a good couple of minutes before they could even get to the entrance of the base. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Loki throwing daggers and using his ice powers to herd off the enemy. She should’ve told him that she had developed a tiny, ginormous crush on the god, but now was not the time to think about that. “Do your thing, Firebird,” Bucky cheekily smiled and returned to shooting with the rifle, as Steve protected their backs with his shield. With one last glance at the trickster who had stolen her heart, Y/N turned her full attention to the metal door and placed a palm against it. For a few seconds nothing happened, but then, bit by bit the steel started to glow red and then turned white as it slid down and burned the grass creating a pool of burning silver. “You’re doing great, doll. We’re almost done,” Bucky covered Y/N’s back with his frame, deflecting bullets with the vibranium palm. “Deep breaths.” And so she took one, unleashing the fire of a thousand suns. The team themselves barely got out of the way before windows exploded from the blazing flames and bones were charred until even the lightest breeze took them to the sky. Nat stood up from her crouched down position and kissed Y/N’s cheek. “I love you more and more with every second that I know you.” The younger girl chuckled, but they had no time to savour the moment so the four set off in a sprint before the base got invaded once more. Arriving by the correct door took them pretty much no time at all and Y/N once again placed a palm against the cool metal which started to heat up. But something was off, something didn’t feel right. Yet it was already too late. The second the door slid to their waist level a click could be heard and Y/N was thrown back against the wall. She didn’t slide down, didn’t crumple to her knees, instead her eyes were wide while they beheld the large arrow that had gone through her side and impaled her to the wall. “Buck?” Y/N didn’t hear the yells of her teammates who were asking what the hell was going on. Instead, her body disintegrated the bolt and she sagged down to the floor. “No, no, no, no, no, why did you do that? You know you never remove a knife from a wound. It’s what keeps you from bleeding out. Stark!” The ex-Winter Soldier called out as Cap stood frozen and Nat couldn’t tear her gaze away from the scarlet stream slipping out of Y/N’s body. “Stark! We need immediate help! Y/N was shot!” An eerie silence filled the comms, before a quiet ‘what?’ responded. It sounded like Loki to her. Her Loki. Her friend. The person she loved most. But it could’ve been anyone else in the team, for every sound was muffled, her vision was already going hazy and she could only think of her last mission where the girl was bleeding out on the floor, just like now. Where the fiery magic that flowed through her veins was trying to patch her body up, but couldn’t the bullet that had penetrated her body had been laced with some sort of a resistant, and clearly the arrow had been coated with the same substance, turning her world into nothing but pain. Y/N’s eyes started to drip closed. Maybe it could be over, maybe she wouldn’t have to trail through the recovery process and she could just peacefully leave. Without regrets. Well one, but then again, what would a god want to do with a mortal. “Stay with me, Princess. Don’t you dare close your eyes.” Princess. That is what Loki had started to call her. “Loki?” Her speech was already starting to slur, and she could barely feel the pressure someone was keeping on the wound. Green mist surrounded them and everything went quiet. There were no more gunshots, no more yelling, apart from the fading one of her comm. The harsh midday sun had changed its glow and was now only a softly fading yellow gleam, which meant they certainly weren’t at the HYDRA base. “FRIDAY,” the prince’s voice was filled with fear, “where is doctor Cho?” “In the med wing. I have informed of your arrival and she is setting up the surgery room.” Cho? But that meant that they were back home at the tower. Her head lolled to the side, and indeed they were. There was the couch they had sat on and talked endlessly about Shakespeare, just like she had dreamed in beginning. And there was the kitchen island Y/N always laid out food for the team in the weekend mornings, sparing a pile of pancakes for Loki, fresh strawberries adorning the sweet circles. Y/N blinked and suddenly a cold and harsh surface greeted her back, white lights blinding her for an instant before black hair came back into view. “You’re not gonna die on, me. Not if I have any say in it.” It was all too much. She just wanted to let go, Y/N was so exhausted. So she closed her eyes and didn’t open them.

***

The God of Mischief was not in a good mood whatsoever. He couldn’t help the rage coursing through his freezing veins as Y/N fought for her life in the operating room. The anger was all-consuming, yelling at him to let it out, but what surprised him, even more, was that it was not addressed to any of the Avengers. But at himself. For not being able to deal with his feelings and not admitting to Y/N how much he loved her. He sat in the waiting area for what seemed like days, pale fingers pulling at the ebony hair, helplessness not being an emotion he knew how to deal with. It was around hour five of Y/N’s surgery when voices invaded the tower. “-ou she was not ready!” Loki recognised it to be Bucky and he stood up, watching as the dark-haired super soldier entered the hallway, fury written across his features. “How was I supposed to know it was going to be booby-trapped?” Captain America retorted, pain shining in his own blue eyes accompanied by guilt. “It’s not about that! It’s about the fact she can barely sleep because of the last time! She is terrified to go anywhere near the armoury in the gym! You know what that mission did to her!” Loki’s eyes moved between the two friends like ping-pong balls as things started to click. “I had no choice, Buck! We needed all hands on deck. Do you think I enjoy putting Y/N in danger? Do you think I get any satisfaction that she is in the same position right now as she was after the last mission? That she might not make it?” That was the wrong thing for Steve to say as it was the last straw for Loki. “What do you mean she might not make it?” the words came out strained. Two heads whipped to look at the god. They hadn’t noticed the quiet man through their bickering and the shock on Steve’s face was evidence of that. “Nothing,” he stammered out and then cleared the throat. “She’s gonna be fine. It’s Y/N,” the blond continued, “she always is.” “Then why,” Loki pointed at Bucky, “does he not seem to agree with you, Captain?” He was at a dead end and seemed to realise it, so with a deep sigh, Steve hung his head before plopping down onto one of the plush chairs. ”Because in the last mission she almost did die. And the arrow, which that time was a simple bullet... but it was enough… it was coated in a substance that stops any regeneration of cells. Cuts, bruises, stab-wounds- no matter how little, once that poison makes itself present in your body- any injury can become deadly. Hell, you can die from a paper-cut. Y/N…” Steve threw his head back and looked at the ceiling as his mind went back to what was now almost six months ago. “She got shot. Took a bullet for Wanda. It grazed her heart. It took Helen and Bruce twenty-six hours to get her to a state that was somewhat better than dead-and-done. She was in a coma for two months before whatever was present in her system was flushed out. What used to take her two days tops to heal, took her a month. PTSD has been a bitch ever since then… but you already knew that…” Tears slipped down the soldier’s cheeks as he remembered that horrible time. “And with it now being an arrow that went completely through her body…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t bring himself to. But Loki wasn’t listening, his eyes saw nothing but the metal doors that lead to the room where Y/N would either be saved or she’d never open her eyes again. “If she dies,” Loki sneered, flaming green gaze looking at Steve, “her blood will be on your hands. And with it the rest of the worlds. Because you can be sure, I will burn everything to the ground and leave nothing in its wake.” The god didn’t even look at Steve’s sagging shoulders before he left the two soldiers.

***

Miraculously Y/N had pulled through. Barely though. It had taken Cho and twenty other doctors eighteen hours to stabilise what could be stabilised. Now it was a waiting game. To see if the girl’s body could flush the poison out or would she succumb to it. For five months Loki sat by her side day and night. Tony, obviously had given Y/N the best room possible, which included a shower the trickster utilised. He couldn’t be bothered to go back to his apartments, to see the still lingering remnants of their last night spent together. There were still two empty teacups on the floor as well as their unfinished books from a night full of talking and laughter. He had taken Y/N’s and brought it to her hospital room. She’d want to read it when she woke up, was what Loki had said to himself when making the small distance to the med wing. The thought of ‘if she woke up’ was pushed to the furthest corner of his mind. Because if she didn’t, mercy would not exist. Not from him.

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds  Admit impediments. Love is not love  Which alters when it alteration finds,  Or bends with the remover to remove:  O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  It is the star to every wandering bark,  Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Loki’s voice was smooth as it carried the words through the air. Green orbs traced each letter with care and diligence until a soft groan invaded the stillness of the room. Immediately he was up on his feet, face hovering over Y/N’s to see if there had been even the slight change. But nothing. Not a soft flutter of her eyelashes or a small part of the lips. He shook his head, gaze returning to the poetry book. The god’s mind must have been playing tricks, making him hear what he wished to hear. But then his heart almost leapt out of his chest when a hoarse ‘turn it off’ came from Y/N. “Darling?” hope laced the little word, tears threatening to spill from his eyes if it turned out to be simply a figment of his imagination. “Please,” her mouth moved. “Turn it off.” Loki laughed, grasping her palm and feeling her warm fingers embrace his. “Welcome back, love.” A soft smile graced her face as finally, after almost twenty weeks of not seeing Y/N’s glimmering orbs, they opened up and gazed into his. “Hey, Loki,” her look was so gentle he almost kissed her then and there. “Can you please turn it off. I just want five more minutes.” “Turn what off?” The Asgardian was confused, looking around the room to find what was causing her discomfort. “That annoying beeping. It’s making my head hurt.” The answer made him chuckle and against his better judgement he pressed his lips to her forehead. “That’s your heartbeat, love. We can’t turn it off.” “Then maybe just make it a tad bit quieter,” Y/N whispered back, life having returned to the girl’s form full force. “How do you propose we do so?” “I would say you moving a bit further away would be a great start. It’s not easy to keep my heart steady when the proximity of your face is making it beat faster.” The boldness of the statement made Loki pull back and look into Y/N’s eyes. “Am I making you nervous?” He gave the woman a confident smirk, but in truth, he was breathless to the point of being dizzy. The god’s brain couldn’t comprehend the fact she was being so honest and blunt about her feelings. That she could possibly reciprocate. “You know,” her fingers squeezed his and Loki felt warmth rush through his veins, “for being the God of Lies you sure as hell are shit at spotting when people are desperately hiding their feelings, let alone acting as if they possess none.” Loki’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s out of the water. “You didn’t say anything,” was what he was able to come up with. If he could’ve, he would’ve facepalmed himself, but Y/N’s small laughter brought him back to reality right when her palm grasped around the collar of his green silken shirt and pulled him down. Her lips moved against his in lazy pace, allowing the pair to enjoy and memorise every second of the sweet kiss. Only when Y/N broke them apart, taking a deep gulp of air did Loki realise what had just happened. And it made tears spring to his eyes. “I thought I lost you,” he choked out, looking over at the woman whose joyful expression had morphed into that of a frown. “I thought I would have to go on with my life having been unable to confess, to kiss you. To show that I love you.” Y/N’s hand moved to cup Loki’s jaw as she tenderly stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Then from now on I want you to know- I love you Loki. And whatever happens, I’ll always pull through.” She smiled before pressing their lips together again. “After all, I now have one more reason to live.” A faint smirk etched itself on Loki’s face as she wiped away one last tear. “And what is that, Princess?” “You, my Prince.”

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jakey-beefed-it · 5 years

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What attracted you the race, class, background, alignment etc of your d&d character? I.e. What was the draw?

Gonna answer this for Altanin, my chaotic good tiefling barbarian, since he’s the one I play the most.

Race: Tieflings are neat! I’m always interested in half-breeds and ‘monstrous’ races who face judgment and discrimination because of my own mixed-race issues. Half-orc is the obvious choice for that, and particularly for a barbarian, but honestly I think horns are cooler than tusks. It’s... not deep or complicated, really- half-orcs are cool but tieflings are Cool(TM). Also, I love the shit out of the anti-antichrist angle, the ‘Hellboy just wants to pet cats and eat pancakes and you can fuck off with the whole Right Hand of Doom bullshit.’ So my poor boy grew up in a mongolian-type steppe nomad society where everyone was like ‘oh, yeah, that Altanin’s a pretty good dude for a DEMONIC BEING LABORING UNDER A BLOOD CURSE, WHY DID WE TAKE HIM INTO OUR TRIBE?! WE’RE CURSED!’ until he was eventually exiled- though not for tiefling stuff, sadly, but because he went into a barbarian rage and one-punch killed his fiancee’s asshole brother in what was supposed to be just an ordinary ‘fuck you though’ brawl.

Class: I’ve never played a barbarian before! I’ve played lots of paladins, I’ve played a wizard (abjurer with a high STR/CON who was prone to casting silence/antimagic field on enemy wizards and then just... just beating them senseless with his fists), I’ve played a fighter/rogue and a bard... I wanted to do something that was fairly straightforward combat-wise but would allow some shenanigans. Thought hard about going berserker but we kinda needed something tankier and we already had a rogue and a ranger who do P L E N T Y of damage, so, bear totem looked neat and I gave it a shot. Holy damn is it awesome. So now I’ve got a level seven slab of mongolian beef with 102 hp who, when raging, takes half damage from everything but psychic damage, and so effectively has like 204 hp unless a saucy bard insults his fashion sense (which is, admittedly, devastating). Not to mention the ‘double lifting and carrying capacity’ thing you get. So Altanin, a bit drunk at a party with aristocratic ladies and no idea how to impress them, was being 100% honest when he stammered ‘I can lift a horse you wanna see?’

Background: I knew I wanted to go for a ‘peripheral,’ less settled people for inspiration for my barbarian rather than someone from anyplace that considered itself ‘civilization.’ Vikings are rad as hell for that but it feels like it’s been done kind of a lot. So instead I went for ‘steppe nomad’ since they spent most of human history riding around making life extremely difficult for everyone bordering the entire fuckening eurasian steppe. In narrowing it down a bit I decided I liked the Mongols best. Not a strike against Scythians, Turks, Huns, etc., because they’re pretty rad, too. But Mongols, man. Mongols. Anyhow then I ended up dumping Wisdom so I was absolute shit at animal handling and decided Altanin was just like... the Worst Mongol(TM) and growing up he was never able to really ride around and herd sheep or whatever very effectively because he was so tall and awkward (most of his tribe were like, average-to-somewhat small stature, he is 7 feet fuckening tall) and the stubby horses were like ‘oh fuck no’ when he’d try to ride them. So instead he started literally pushing and then carrying the sheep back where they needed to be. And he got progressively stronger and stronger and built preposterous levels of stamina hauling full sized fucking animals around by foot fast enough to keep up even a little with the other kids assigned to round up the animals. Anyhow I had to give him a Tragic Backstory (well-adjusted people rarely take up adventuring) so I decided he’d been a foundling who grew up resented and largely outcast and who was eventually Banished For Life from the only people he’d ever known. As one does.

Alignment: I am a big softie and literally always play a good alignment. My paladins were all lawful good (back in MY day you HAD to be lawful good to be a paladin! kids these days and their more accepting deities who want paladins with matching ethoi *shakes fist*), my wizard was neutral good, my rogue/fighter and bard were chaotic good. Good because they all genuinely cared about helping other people. The law/chaos axis just describes how they thought one should go about it. My lawful good paladins always tried to be Just and Fair and once they got high level they did their best to be Reasonable Authority Figures. By and large they took a larger-view of trying to help society. The needs of the many and all that. My neutral good mage was a bit more flexible on bending the ‘rules’ if the results were good; he didn’t chafe at rules or structure so much but sometimes they could get in the way and so he’d... fudge, a bit. Look, sometimes you just gotta skip the paperwork and Do Good. Most of my chaotic good characters have been... vaguely criminal, or Living A Lie, or some other major reason to justify their alignment- valuing their individual freedom over boring ‘rules’ so long as nobody got hurt. Well, nobody innocent. Altanin has some of that attitude, but mostly he’s just got a narrower view on ‘doing good’ than my paladins- he doesn’t understand how to help Society, but by god he can help this person, here and now, if the damn cops will just shut up and let him do his thing and stop whining about ‘taking the law into his own hands’ or ‘frightening the local merchants by growling about capitalism’ or ‘destabilizing the local economy by giving wads of coin to everyone who looked like they needed a little help.’

Also frankly he’s just a lot more impulsive than my other characters tend to be, and that doesn’t work out so well with lawful good alignments, thematically, in my opinion. I mean, you absolutely COULD do a really compelling lawful good heart-on-sleeve recklessly kind character who would be really neat, it just didn’t feel right for Altanin, and that’s borne out well with his character development.

Thanks for the ask! I love talking about my enormous fiendish dire mongol son. Altanin, to paraphrase a meme, ‘looks like he could kill you, could actually kill you, but mostly just wants to help you unless you’re bad, and then he will yeet you into the next life.’

#Anonymous

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theearlymorningmist · 6 years

Text

Domestic Fluff #10: Camping

TONY STARK X READER

Summary: one-shot series of domestic fluff, can read separately or together.

Word count: 2.5K

A/N- I almost want to turn this into a series, with all the Avengers.

MASTERLIST HERE

If you knew one thing about Tony Stark, it was that he loved technology. Not just his suits, but any kind of tech. If it could be tinkered, Tony was tinkering with it. You found this to be an amusing trait, but its endearment hit its limit when you noticed that Tony’s tinkering had morphed from work/hobby to obsession.

You finally couldn’t stand by and watch Tony slowly transform your shared living space into a robot’s wet dream after sleepily picking up your toothbrush only to find it had been replaced with a shiny new toothbrush made of nano-tech.

“STARK!” You called from the washroom.

“(Y/N)?” A confused, and sheepish Tony called back. He knew that tone in your voice. It meant run.

You stepped into the bedroom to look at the suspect in question, who was rubbing the back of his head with a proud little smirk on his face. “Did you seriously replace my toothbrush with some nano-version?” You asked, still in disbelief.

“I improved it!” Tony argued, with an not-so-apologetic shrug.

“But I liked that toothbrush. I’d even go as far as ‘loved that toothbrush’!” You huffed.

Tony bit his lip for a moment, trying to think of a way to make it up to you. “What if I tinkered around and made it play your favourite song? Then it would be better than your old one, hm?” He asked, excitedly.

You gave the man a dead-pan look, trying not to snap and laugh at the same time. “Tony…sweetie… If I wanted a singing toothbrush I could have bought one at the pharmacy.” You explained.

Tony’s expression fell. “Someone beat me to toothbrushes with songs? Damn.”

“Yeah, like 10 years ago, Tony. Tooth-Tunes, look it up.” You explained, stifling a grin. Dammit why did the man have to be so cute when you were supposed to be mad at him.

The beautiful idiot let out a soft sigh, and then moved on. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, smiling sweetly. “Maybe I can make it up to you, hm? What do you say (Y/N)? We can test out some of the other tech I’ve been working on…”

“I don’t want to test the next SI product Tony I’m---“ You began, but you were silenced by Tony’s lips on yours. “This is more of a….private experiment…” He winked, suggestively.

“Oh. Ohhh…. Well I—wait no! I’m mad!” You caught yourself, pulling away from the man and standing with your arms akimbo. “This has gone too far! I bet you couldn’t go two days without using any technology!”

Instead of arguing, Tony’s eyes lit up. You had, so it seemed, said the magic words. Tony Stark was never one to step down from a challenge. “Is that so?” The man purred, excitedly. “What do I get if I win this proposed challenge?”

You narrowed your eyes. “IF you can go for 2 days without using any technology… I won’t bother you about your obsessive tinkering anymore.” You stipulated.

Tony smiled to himself, glancing down and taking a step closer to you. “That’s nice and all but how about…” He leaned in and whispered something that if said aloud would have been censored by the author.

You giggled, despite yourself. “That sounds…agreeable.” You smiled briefly, but then resumed your seriousness. “But! If you lose, you must dedicate one day a week to being tinker-free. And you will spend that time with your loved ones. Do we have a deal?” You asked, holding out your hand.

Tony eyed you for a moment, thinking it over, before finally clasping your hand. “Deal. But you have to purge all things techy too.” He said, resolutely.

“Fine, it’s only fair I suppose.” You agreed.

“So, I guess I should start shutting down JARVIS for the next 48 hours, and—“

“—Oh no no no.” You interrupted, with a smirk. “You don’t get to spend 48 hours in your nice accommodating home. I know juust where this bet will be taking place.” You explained, knowingly.

A few hours later, you were turning off a bumpy off the ‘off the beaten path’ kind of road into a clearing between some trees. You turned off the engine, and glanced at your watch. “Okay, checking this watch to set a timer for 48 hours will be both of our last interactions with any kind of technology. Any last words?” You asked Tony, with a teasing smirk.

“You have to deal with Dum-E and his abandonment issues when we get home.” The man huffed.

“Duly noted.” You nodded, pressing the button, and then putting the watch away.

The two of you got out the car and began exploring the camp site. Tony kicked a branch, hands shoved in his pockets petulantly. “This’ll be a piece of cake.” He announced.

“Great. Then how about you go collect and cut up some fire wood? And I’ll start building the tent.” You challenged.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Sounds good to me. Oh and uh, at the store I switched out the pop-up tent for one with the good old pegs and wires.” The man added, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Couldn’t have it too easy now could we?” He hummed, trying to get a rise out of you.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You replied, through pursed lips.

While you struggled with the tent, Tony went off somewhere to look for usable kindling for the fire. Tony, as it seemed, had chosen the world’s most complicated tent. You looked at the instructions for what felt like the millionth time before letting out a frustrated groan and kicking some dirt.

“That doesn’t make any sense!!” You shouted into the void.

“Having trouble are we?” Tony’s voice came from behind you, startling you. You whipped around, attempting to compose yourself.

“No! No…of course not. I’m just you know…mad that life doesn’t make sense…in general. You know…wacky world we live in…injustices…and all that…” You cleared your throat, awkwardly. Now that you were looking at the man, you noticed that he had scrapes along his arms and a small cut on his forehead.

“What happened to you? Get in a fist fight with a tree?” You asked, amused.

“Something like that…” Tony muttered, dumping the wood by the fire pit. “So just out of curiosity, we don’t have to hunt down our dinner do we?” Tony asked. “Because I don’t know how I’d feel about BBQ Bugs Bunny.”

You made a face of horror. “Of course not. Bugs is safe. And so is Bambi’s mom for the record.” You nodded over to a cooler. “There’s your dinner. Premium hot dogs and smores.”

“At least tell me you brought coffee?” The man asked, desperation in his voice.

“There’s a kettle and some instant coffee. But you’d need to build the fire for that and we should do that later.” You grinned, enjoying the mans suffering a little too much.

“I’m going for a walk.” Tony finally said, heading out into the trees while muttering “Instant coffee…instant coffee…my taste buds will never forgive me… This is a hellscape…”

“What was that darling?” You called.

“Nothing! Love you (Y/N).” Tony called back, and then disappeared in the woods.

While the man was gone, you finished setting up the tent and even blew up the air mattress inside. But because of the no technology rule, you couldn’t use the cars battery for the pump. Instead, you had to blow it up using your own breath.

“I think I have asthma now.” You wheezed, plopping down into a lawn chair. Tony sat down next to you, seemingly appearing from no where.

“That’s great, honey.” He mumbled, sinking down into the chair. “Did you happen to pack any alcohol for this wilderness excursion? A boy scout must always be prepared, you know.”

“In fact, I did!” You chimed, grabbing two bottles of beer from the cooler. You handed one to Tony and he looked about the same way someone looks when you hand them a cup of worms. A mixture of disgusted, offended, and confused.

“(Y/N), sweetie. I meant real alcohol.”

You shrugged and cracked open your beer taking a long sip. “Sorry.” You said, trying to hide a smirk. Tony sighed, and submitted to his fate.

A little while later, you were both hungry, so Tony started getting things ready for the fire. “Do you need the fire starter, or do you think you can get that thing going on your own?” You asked, handing the man a pack of matches.

“I don’t need that. Or those. I can start a fire the old fashioned way.” Tony declared. “It’s basic mechanics.”

Ten minutes later you returned to Tony desperately rubbing two sticks together and angrily muttering to himself. “I’m Tony fucking Stark. I can start a stupid little fire! I will start a stupid little fire even if it kills me!” He grunted, finally getting enough friction to start the fire. “I did it! Look whose surviving without technology now, huh (Y/N)?!” Tony grinned, satisfied.

“Still a long way to go. We’ll see who comes out on top.” You countered, getting the food ready to cook.

“Yep. And then whoever comes out on top….will decide who comes out on top.” Tony smirked.

“You’re disgusting.” You laughed, tossing a prong at Tony and then handing him the bag of hot dogs.

The two of you ate, and played with the fire, forgetting all about the bet for the moment and just enjoying the time away together. No jobs or teams distracting you, or interrupting.

As the night grew darker and colder, you found yourself cuddled in Tony’s lap. The only source of light was the soft orange glow of the fire. You put a marshmallow on the end of the metal prong and handed it to Tony to cook. The man immediately shoved the marshmallow into the top of the flames, and you rolled your eyes, confiscating the prong from him.

“Of course you don’t know how to roast a marshmallow properly.” You sighed in amusement. “Let me show you how its done.” You reached forward, putting the fluffy treat underneath the logs, where the embers of the fire were glowing.

“If you put them up in the flames, they’ll cook faster but it’ll burn and it’ll just melt the outside. If you put it down in the embers, it gets golden and perfectly gooey all the way through.” You explained.

But when you looked back at Tony, he wasn’t watching the marshmallow, he was watching your face and how the soft fire light made it glow. Before you could say anything, the man kissed you softly, pulling you closer as he slowly deepened the kiss.

After a few moments you pulled away slightly. “The marshmallows ganna burn…” You mumbled, kissing the man again.

“Let it.” Tony breathed, tossing the prong aside and picking you up. He carried you into the tent, lips never parting. You briefly wondered how he made it to tent in the dark without tripping, but you ceased thinking about anything else except Tony very quickly…

The next morning you woke up the sound of birds instead of a blaring alarm clock, and it was one of the most serene things you’d ever experienced. You stretched and slowly made your way out of the tent.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” Tony greeted, in a chipper voice.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and opened them to see Tony stood there- fully dressed, axe in one hand, coffee mug in the other, smiling happily.

“I’ve been up since dawn. There’s some coffee left for you. Cereal is on top of the cooler. I was just about to head out and get some more firewood for tonight.”

You blinked, slowly taking in the mans words. “O…K…” You nodded, still out of it.

“See you later, honey.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek before heading out in the woods, purposefully.

Oh no… You thought. You were so sure this bet was in the bag, that you hadn’t accounted for the fact that underneath all the tech and pageantry, Tony Stark really was a domestic little thing. He’d talked about getting a farm like Barton’s later on, but you thought he was surely joking. But seeing Tony pull a full Joe Lumberjack was eye opening...

You let Tony choose the activities for the rest of the day, seeing as his entire mood about being tech free seemed to change in an instant. He seemed happy, and more carefree than you had seen him in ages. The man took you for a hike through the woods. You went for a quick swim the lake. And on the way back to the campsite the two of you even saw a deer grazing peacefully.

When you got back to camp, it was late in the afternoon, and you decided that you had better start working on blowing up the air mattress again or you’d forget and end up sleeping on the ground. You emerged from the tent about 20 minutes later, breathless again.

“I think we poked a hole in that thing last ni—“ You cut yourself off when you saw that Tony was dead asleep in a hammock he had made, a peaceful expression on his face.

The sight almost made you tear up. You knew firsthand how difficult it was for Tony to get to sleep, let alone to get restful sleep. And there was the man you loved, looking so incredibly relaxed and happy, you couldn’t just let the moment disappear.

Quietly you snuck over to the car and grabbed your phone. You crept back over to the hammock, and ever so carefully took a picture to remember the moment. You smiled to yourself as you looked down at the image, already thinking about where you could hang it up back home.

“You lose.”

You jumped about a foot in the air. “What?” You questioned, holding your chest to keep your heart inside.

“You lose.” Tony repeated, with a grin. “Or is that not a cellular device in your hands?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but instead you just smiled, putting the device away. “Yeah. I lost.” You conceded, climbing into the hammock with the man. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, and the two of you settled down comfortably.

“You know, I think we should stay a little longer.” You suggested.

“Really?” Tony questioned, nuzzling his face into your neck. “How much longer?”

You closed your eyes, sighing contently.

“Forever.”

*Any Questions About My Writing After ‘The End’? Here’s a prompt list! Ask away! :) –> After ‘The End’

@captainsherlockwinchester110283 @lilylovelyxo @not-reptilian @thevanishedillusion @kilamanjiro @xxcxrolinexx @txnystarkimagines @broadwayandnetflix @mythrealfan @sophiatomlinson23 @tonystarkxreader

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lukeysgirl · 7 years

Text

The Note Tree ❋ L.H. Pt.10

Part T E N

Summary: A cherry blossom tree, residing at the farthest part of the schools courtyard. Nobody dwelled there, and you didn’t care much for it. Until you kept hearing one song played over and over, with lyrics changed to touch at your curiosity. They knew you were listening, and one day you gave in and made your way to the pink tree. Waiting for you, a series of notes tied to a single strand of string.

Word Count: 5.5k+

AN: blAH here’s part 10 for you guys! im making this finally a bit more eventful as it was going slow. but here you guys go and i really hope you enjoy it very much! remember, 100 notes pls and thank you :) xx

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

I M A G I N E

Wednesday

“We are taking the seniors to a trip in the woods!” The principal announces into the black entity worth of a microphone.

Everyone was told to file into the auditorium immediately when the doors were opens and the morning announcements echoed through the corridors. More specifically, the seniors were requested. So, you trotted into the large room with ease, your friends easily finding you in the crowd as you chose seats towards the very back, left corner of the theatre.

It was an extraordinarily large theatre, might you admit. The cozy, cushion red chairs were ornate in rows of three, each horizontal row owning about 12 seats before going down to the next ones. Overhead was another floor of chairs, just for the sake of using more space and having a cooler, higher sight to see kids reenact the horrid tragedies of Shakespeare. Because, honestly, what other play writers do people actually know that deserve to be mainstream?

“Y/N, are you okay?” Alexis hummed beside you, nudging your shoulder gently in pure concern.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you croaked, your elbow planted upon the arm rest as you leaned your cheek against your fist. You lied; you were actually sleep-deprived and starved. After the tutoring with Luke, you were too stuck in thought due to Luke’s damned words and shameless stripping as his way to learn. It bothered you so much so that you couldn’t capture one wink of sleep. You were up all night, wondering in the dark about this blonde, blue-eyed dolt.

“You don’t look too well,” Des hummed, bringing her gentle hand to plant it upon your forehead. The coolness of her fingers sent goosebumps around your body, but you ignored it with ease. “Your forehead is a little warm…”

“I doubt I have a fever, or any sort of sickness for that matter,” you said in a hush tone, your eyes focused on the principal, who (in your head) started to sound like a character from Charlie Brown. Des relieved her hand from your forehead, exchanging worried glances with Alexis as Des turned to pat Savannah to inform her.

“A few of your professors are currently handing out permission slips, regardless to those who are already 18 or above,” Principal Michaels spoke, having you chuckle from the way he held the wooden podium. The pale-white, brown mustached, green-eyed authority stood at the podium all high and mighty like he was some sort of god. “I apologize for such short notice, but it’ll be for this coming Friday and we should come back by Sunday…”

You sounded him out, unable to keep up with his annoying, raspy voice. With not even a hint of sleep, you couldn’t be asked with a monotonous lectured about a trip that only needed 2 basic sentences: “we’re going camping” and “here’s what you need by Friday.” You understood that nobody could religiously follow you in your energy conservation belief, but you knew as fact that your fellow classmates were bored out of their asses.

“Nice sweater,” chimed a male, pretty familiar voice, behind you. The girls turned, with the Principals’s voice acting as background to find Nathan right behind you. Sweater? How uncultured. But nonetheless, you looked down at the new Linkin Park sweatshirt with ease and released a curt smile.

“Thanks,” you spewed simply, slowly focusing yourself on getting a few minutes of sleep as your eyelids began to sink down. So sleepy… if only I could just doze off for a few minutes…

“Y/N.” Nathan’s voice spoke right into your ear, having you snap your neck away and open your eyelids. You divert your eyes over to your right shoulder, where Des sat and Nathan’s face appeared at your outer periphery. “Are you tired?”

“Just a bit,” you spat simply. “But keep in mind it’s morning and I’m in school, forced to study and interact with the likings of you, Nathan.”

“Yeesh, cold,” Nathan hummed in offense. You saw a bit of his fluffy chestnut hair bounce to the front of his forehead, having you smirk. You recalled how Luke said he had ‘stolen’ Ashton’s haircut, and he was very true on his similar it was. But then Nathan’s eyes met with yours and an influx of Luke’s ocean eyes came into your mind. “You must be real tired if you’re this crabby. Want a supplement?”

As Nathan dug into his pocket in search of his offer, Des brought her hand up and slapped him on the back of his head.

“Fuck, Odessa,” Nathan groaned, using his free hand to rub the future bruise. “The fuck was that for?”

“If you drug Y/N, I’ll literally rip out your eyes with my nails,” Savannah hissed, flashing up her pastel nails with fake diamonds encrusted upon it in a rather adorable form. Des quickly grabbed the blonde girls wrists, muttering ‘down girl’ as though she were a dog.

“Relax,” Nathan spoke quietly, throwing his hands up in defense. “I’d never drug sweet little Y/N here. Besides, I know she isn’t gonna take it anyways. I just decided to offer for the slight chance that she should.”

Already annoyed, you pull on the hood of the sweatshirt over your head. You ensured every spec of hair left out was tucked it kindly before folding your arms over your chest. Alexis did you the favor of gently placing her hand on the side of your head and tugging you over to lean on her shoulder. You emit a yawn, feeling tears well up in your eye sockets as you studied the several shadows of heads in front of you, blocking the view of the Principal.

Your mind suddenly began to wander over the whereabouts of Luke R. Hemmings. You hated yourself for a brief moment, but succumbed to the reality of things: Luke is now someone kinda important. You couldn’t really explain to anyone, moreover yourself, but Luke is so persistent that he’s managed to put himself in your small circle of people. Fuck me, you thought. This is so annoying. I never asked for this.

“Now, for those who have attended this school since middle school know how this very trip works,” Principal Michaels hummed, having you roll your eyes as you forced yourself awake for his blabbering. It might be important. “But this year we have decided to… revamp a few traditional customs.”

The camping trip, though annoying, was an infamous tradition in the school. It was a 3 day trip to hell in which you ‘become one with the woods’ and ‘get closer together with your fellow campers.’ But basically it was a trip full of boring activities that included getting splinters when climbing trees, doing a safer version of sky lining, and getting wet in some lake. There are groups of 4 with teachers as the leaders and each team tries to rack up enough points in order to get some ‘cool prize.’

Your guess was an sharpened pencil that said ‘College Bound!’ or some corny shit like that.

“This should be shit,” you muttered under your breath, feeling Alexis snort from your response.

“A few e-mails showed up in my inbox with a more fun suggestion for the trip,” Principal Michaels hummed excitedly, reminding yourself of an old grandma content to receive several rolls of yarn. “So we’ve decided to allow students to be the camp leaders instead of our staff.”

Several quiet chatters and murmurs ensued as you allowed your eyes to droop shut.

“Maybe I can be a leader,” Nathan hummed, leaning once again on your chair as you felt his eyes on yours. “Would you like to be on my team, Y/N?”

“I’d rather choke on acorns,” you replied bluntly, your eyes still shut while nuzzling nicely onto Alexis’ shoulder. Des snorted, having Savannah, reach over to rub your shoulder in praise.

“You never fail to break my heart, Y/N,” Nathan coos, having you snort quietly as you resumed paying attention to what the superior had to say.

“Unfortunately for those who wanted to be leaders,” Principal Michaels says with little to no sympathy. “The leaders have already been chosen.”

Annoyed banter ensues as several students begin to chant their ‘boos’ and idiotic complains. Nathan shouted ‘that’s not fair!’ right behind you, having you hiss at him for producing such ear cancer from his mouth. You sat up, relieving Alexis’ shoulder as you decided to see the leaders step up and pretend like they’re the shit. But your eyes widened in great surprise to see the 4 alphas of your class to walk across the large stage before everyone.

Front and guiding the other 3 was Luke Hemmings, which honestly didn’t surprise you all that much. Luke was always off doing something to get the attention, even if he wasn’t trying. But there he stood, as lanky and covered in black as usual. His curly hair was even more messy than before, seeing it more damp that it should be. Probably didn’t bother trying to dry it and add the disgusting chemicals the businesses call ‘hair care products.’

Oh, and following them was the deliciously tan Maori boy Calum, the pale party-monster Michael, and the sweet, and only mature one of the quad, Ashton.

And, of courses, while the other male seniors groaned in annoyance, the rest of the girls broke their voices in cheers. The most you heard was the chanting of Luke, obviously the favorite for being the lead dog and audacious man who was anything but tame. You heard girls squeal, ‘I hope I’m in Luke’s team!’ and other very explicit terms you wanted to ignore. Your eyes scanned the area to see the red-headed, blue-eyed monster stand excitedly, waving desperately to get Luke’s attention.

But even Nadia couldn’t capture the attention of the pair of ocean orbs. He looked around, his rouge lips stretched to form a lovely smile as he looked around the auditorium. You watched as he slowly made his way to your row, having you being to sling down to avoid contact. But the blonde asshole was too quick and spotted you, his pearly whites coincidentally shining as he shot you a wink. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you saw a student dash from his seat in the front row to go to the stage. He offered his hand up for a slap, in which Luke stretched his arms in pleasant surprise before bending down to slap his hand. You looked away, closing your eyes in hopes to fall into some sort of deep, 10-minute nap.

“Simmer down, all of you!” Principal Michaels scolded, forcing your eyelids up to see his old, wrinkly hands wave the flood of students down. They’re already riled up, you thought. How the fuck are you gonna explain this? “They suggested the idea– it was only fair for them to be the leaders of the camping trip!”

“Do they even know how to be leaders?” A boy hollered towards the middle-center of the bottom influx of students. Several of his mates agreed, having them stomp their feet on the floor in protest. Waste of energy, you thought.

“God, look how good Calum looks,” Des swooned, having you chuckle as she waved her hand to produce air for the crook of her neck. You had to admit: Calum was looking pretty good. Super loose tank top, skinny jeans hugging his thick thighs nicely, tan hands ornate with small, but evident tattoos. Calum was just eye-candy to all.

“Okay, but look at Michael– he changed his hair color!” Savannah squealed, bringing her petite hands up to cup her mouth. You emit a small burp, indicating that you required food and immediately. Your eyes divert to the forest green-eyed boy, seeing as his hair was no longer a fiery red. It was a blonde– maybe not as natural and strong like Luke’s, but a blonde with brown wisps coming from the roots at his scalp. It also seemed much longer than before, though you couldn’t make that assumption as you barely looked at the light-skinned boy.

“Not gonna lose your ovaries about Ashton?” You hummed over to Alexis, who was gnawing on her bottom lip kindly.

“I don’t need to highlight how amazing he looks,” Alexis muttered simply, her eyes stuck on the brown-haired man who smiled widely at everyone. “That’s a given.”

“Point taken,” you said with a quiet giggle. Principal Michaels continued to emit details over the trip, in which you deemed mutable. Then, the student in front of you turned around and eyed you, having you furrow your eyebrows curiously. He dragged his upper arm over the back of his seat, with his forearm bent up.

“Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” The boy hummed, his voice rather high and evidently suffering slow puberty. You blinked a few times before nodding skeptically, having the boy reach over to offer you a small, folded note between his index and middle fingers.

“Uh, thanks,” you emit quietly, taking the note from the boy as he turned around and became just another figure again. You sit up more properly, allowing the hood on your head to droop off as you felt the paper substance in your fingers. You saw the infamous ‘-H’ on the very top before opening it.

“Secret admirer?” Alexis whispered beside you as the three girls began crowding you. You nodded, your eyes finally focusing to see the words scribbled on the paper.

‘Every time I go camping, I always getting so terrified because I’m really scared of the dark. Keep that between us though! Oh, btw, no tree 2day, sry :(’

You giggled, quickly closing the note before lifting yourself up a bit to stuff it in the back pocket of your jeans. The girls eyed you, obviously slow readers who didn’t get passed the first 3 words. You remained silent, allowing Principal Michaels words to flow through as you grinned to yourself. Afraid of the dark, stalker? You’re just narrowing it down for me, you thought to yourself. It was an easy situation see: go on the trip, see what night activities occur and stare at those who seem the most terrified. Easy.

“The boys will choose who they’d like on their team,” Principal Michaels. “You can try and plead them to choose you, but nonetheless it’s their decision. As for the boys,” he resumed, glancing over at the tall boy band before him, “you’ll have to choose 24 students each as the senior class, excluding you boys, is 96.”

“Fucking yikes,” you huffed, calculating the numbers in your head. 6 cabins, 4 people in each one, gender mixture being a possibility. “I sorta don’t want to go anymore.”

“You’re going,” Des insisted as she slapped a permission slip on your lap before passing the small stack along to Alexis. You groaned, having Des roll her eyes before placing her hands on your shoulders. “It’s only 2 nights and you always want nothing more than to be out of the house.”

“Well sure,” you began with a grumble. “But 2 nights with pure strangers being idiotic and attempting to scare each other with Brothers Grimm stories isn’t exactly what I like.”

“How do you know you’ll be with pure strangers?” Hissed Savannah, leering over at you with her blue orbs worth of eyes.

“Knowing the situation, I know as fact you’re going to be in Michael’s team,” you commented, receiving silence from Savannah as you snorted. “And then Calum is gonna take Des and Ashton is definitely taking Alexis so I mean… I’m not a genius but surely I’m good at reading the situation.”

“…Except you actually are a genius and can read anything and anyone like a book,” Alexis points out, having you smile at her response. 3.9 Gee Pee Aye, just like Luke said. Oh fuck, I’m thinking about Luke.

“Whatever man,” you croaked, taking the permission slip to fold into a small square. You stuffed it in the sweatshirt pocket, keeping your hands in there to gather some warmth.

“Whatever my ass,” Des huffed, playfully hitting your forearm. “You’re going anyways and you’re going to have a great time in Luke’s team.”

“Oh-ho, I’m not on his team,” you spat. The girls all leaned forward to stare at you, having you scoff at them as you tugged on the hoodie in reassurance. “I don’t care if he chooses me. I’m in Ashton’s and that’s settled.”

“You baby, you don’t get to choose,” Alexis cooed with a gentle shove on the shoulder. “Besides, it’ll be fun– Luke likes you and you get along with him best.”

“That’s because I see nothing in him and he’s super persistent,” you growled. “He doesn’t know when to let up. So I don’t care– I’m not in his team. That’s final.”

“Okay then, Princess,” Nathan said suavely from behind. You let out a heavy sigh, feeling a headache collect in your head as his head peeped once again beside you. “Want to join my team?”

“Die,” you spewed quietly.

“I wanna be on your team!”

“Pick me, please!”

“Yay, I’m in Calum’s team!”

This sudden, abrupt camping trip has completely punched the little desire to be in the institution. You dropped your head in your arms in defeat, attempting to mute the chatter with the MP3 you gladly stole from Des without any complaints. Blasting Tyler the Creator in your head, your mind wandered in the pitch black darkness to see if you could sleep for just 5 minutes.

You allowed yourself to peek up to see a big crowd of seniors surrounding the table of the infamous quad by the name of 5 Seconds of Summer. They looked somewhat stressed out, seeing as several students were hollering their names and pleads to join their teams. Dumbasses, you thought to yourself. So desperate for attention, then when you finally get it, you’re stressed out. You shook your head as Alexis joined the table with a tray full of food. Des brought lunch, and Savannah accordingly ate a big breakfast. You didn’t have the energy to start walking through crowds for food. Especially not with the weakness you own.

“They have pizza today, you know,” Alexis teased, flaunting the cheesy slice of life on her tray. You blinked a few times before hiding your face back in your arms.

“I’m not really hungry,” you lied, your head vexing you as a headache was ensuing and brewing quickly. You hoped the lie would have placed a believable facade around you, but knowing your friends, one of them would take a hint and stuff something in you. But before any of them could chime, a loudness entered the lunchroom that was incomparable to the noise that was already blasting. So you plugged the earbuds back in.

Forcing yourself to sit up, your eyes darted to notice the infamous blonde monster enter the lunchroom. Crowds of students (mainly women) tailed after Luke as he walked in. Smug smile and all, you wanted nothing more than to punch it off his face. Luke’s presence quickly drew his other friends as Calum, Ashton, and Michael escaped their table and dashed over to Luke. They were really testing your boundaries it seems.

You increased the sound of the MP3, practically breaking your ears with rap as you watched the boys stroll around the lunchroom. Their combined crowds made them look like they were going on a school trip, seeing as they guided them around. But as you did, a sudden dizziness began striking, having you drop your head into your arms once more. Your vision was now tilted, having your eyes divert every which way to notice the girls looking at you with wide eyes. You pulled off the earphones and stared at them with wonder.

“Y/N, you alright?” Des began worriedly, her hand coming to plant itself gently at the bend of your elbow. You nodded, your eyes struggling to stay open. Fucking fuck, you thought to yourself. This sudden weakness from sleep deprivation and starvation was really getting to you, and you didn’t know whether to be pissed at Luke or yourself or both.

“Y/N, you seriously don’t look well,” Savannah chimed, moving from across you to stand behind you. You let her hold your chin to tilt your head a bit up. Her free hand resided on your forehead, listening to her silver bracelets clink against one another as she moved her hand. “You seem a little warm.”

“I don’t have a fever,” you groaned, attempting to swat her away. But you were too weak to even dare wave your hand any sort of high velocity. You loved your friends– you do, but they sometimes fretted over you far too much for you to actually handle. “Seriously, I’m fine. I’m just tired, like I usually am.”

“Yeah, but you’re incredibly groggy and you’re not jolting away,” Alexis points out. Right as she said that, a fairly loud growl emitted from your stomach, feeling a painful twist as you let out a hungry burp. “Y/N, are you hungry?”

“I just told you I wasn’t,” you huffed. “What part of ‘I’m not really hungry’ do you guys not get?” The girls watched you as your eyes lightened up at the sight of Alexis’ pizza. You really wanted at least a bite, just to relieve yourself of this excruciating pain before you could get home. “I’m fine, really.”

“Okay then,” Des hummed, her brown eyes looking down at her phone before looking at you. “Stand up then. Lunch is almost over.” Your eyes darted towards the large clock in the lunch room, seeing her words ring true as you saw there was only just 3 minutes. Reluctantly, you forced your legs straight to rise from the cold, circular table. Throwing your legs one by one over the seat, your bend down to grab your bag. But mistakes were very much made when you quickly rose again and found yourself go far too lightheaded.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered, bringing a hand up to your forehead. The periphery of your eyesight was suddenly splotching black as you took one step away from the table. But then a jolt of pain hit your head and you found yourself going limp. Slowly, you saw your vision going sideways again while you were close to colliding to the ground. The last thing you saw was a black figure wearing a Cage The Elephant dashing to you, your name being yelled loudly in a masculine, accented tone before everything went mute and you drowned in the black.

“Nnn…”

Emitting a croaky groan, your brain was finally regaining consciousness. Slowly, you allowing your eyes to flutter open. Your eyelids felt heavy, but you nonetheless forced them up to get shot by a very brightly lit ceiling lamp above. Feeling your mouth going very dry, you moved your tongue around and licked your lips, providing the moisture of saliva all around. Realizing that you just awoke from a slumber, you jolted yourself up to sit up and take in your surroundings. “The fuck am I…”

“The nurse.” Oh, of fucking course. You turned to your right to see Luke Robert Hemmings sitting beside you, his elbows on his knees with his back slouched. His ocean eyes were no longer beautiful, and more dim and sunken. His hair was a little messy, probably from tampering with it anxiously. His rouge lips were normal, though his bottom lip was much more crimson due to the lip biting he’s probably been doing.

Great, you thought to yourself. There goes my heart.

“Why am I here?” You asked softly, slouching yourself to lean against your hand. That’s when you finally noticed. On your right arm, the sleeve of your hoodie was pulled up with your forearm exposed and being punctured by a needle. Your eyes dragged up the wire connected to it to see it connected to a big pouch of liquid. Artificial nutrients, you guessed.

“You passed out in the lunchroom,” Luke replied, his stern face not faltered a single bit as you distantly stared at the needle in your vein. Luke sound a bit mad, like you did something to actually get him pissed. Not that you were an angel, but you doubted to have done a thing to get the blonde, pompous idiot mad. “Because you apparently were sleep, water, and food deprived.”

“How’re school nurses accurate?” You wondered quietly, attempting to escape Luke’s information. You wanted to avoid being scolded, especially by Luke. You’d actually feel bad, and that would be very annoying, considering how tired and weak you still were.

“Y/N, what the fuck were you doing with no sleep and no food or water in your body?” Luke growled, anger present on his tongue. You gulped, goosebumps suddenly crawling as you made sure to look away from the boy. You didn’t understand why you felt bad– it’s fucking Luke. Not even Sav, Des, or Alex. It’s fucking Luke Hemmings, Mr. I-Am-Too-Popular-To-Try-In-School. “Answer me.”

“Cool down, blondie,” you hummed quietly, weakly raising your arm to wave him gently with your hand. You couldn’t move it too much, seeing as that was the punctured arm. You rose the other hand to cup your mouth to emit a yawn before crinkling your nose a bit. “I’m not dead and you’re not my guardian. I don’t see why you’re acting like some sort of worry warrior.”

Suddenly, Luke abandoned his chair, the plastic dragged upon the white tiles as it was violently sent back. You looked over and flinched, seeing Luke look down at you with vexed eyes. His jawline was clenching, with veins dancing up and down his neck and temples. He then went and slammed his hands down on the bit of bed that you weren’t occupying, his face just a few inches from yours.

“Stop being so fucking careless!” Luke exclaimed, practically barking as you stared at him blankly. The scruff ornate on his chin was collecting very small dews of his spit, you noticed. “You have to be more self-aware and give a shit about yourself because it’s not just you that cares about you. I fucking care about you, and you damn well know this because I’ve told you this before and I’ll say it again: I. Love. You. So stop acting like your damn choices don’t affect anyone else because my heart fucking stopped when you fell right before me.”

You stared, somewhat stunned by Luke’s aggressive take. His blue eyes were so dark, the azure not sitting well with you. You noticed his under eyes seeming a bit pink– had he been crying? His lips were in a pout, not entertained and very unlike his usual smiley self. You suddenly took in his words and allowed your eyes to fall down to see his shirt. Cage the Elephant.

“You were the one rushing to me,” you connected the dots, looking away to take this in. You wanted the silence, but Luke was obviously not going to give it to you. He moved and ended up in your view again, still quite aggravated. “Luke–.”

“Also stop shutting down my feelings just because you believe I’m wrong about them,” Luke barked, having you blink a few times as he huffed. “I flipped my shit. I threw myself on the floor so your head didn’t hit the damn floor. I was not gonna let you get a concussion.”

“You cushioned my fall?” You asked quietly, seeing Luke’s eyes soften as he revealed a curt smile. He stood up straight and turned around, clinging his thumbs into his jeans. Before you dragged your hands up to your eyes, Luke looked back at you with a sympathetic gaze.

“Before you start, I’m not gonna moon you again,” Luke spoke softly, having you hesitantly put your hands down as Luke dragged his pants that resided towards the left down and showed his upper buttcheek to you. Your eyes widened a bit.

A large, black splotch was evident in the very pale skin. The outskirts of the bruise was red, the flesh obviously agitated from the fall. There were licks of purple and blue in there, resembling a night sky in a hilarious way. But you couldn’t help and feel genuinely bad. You were a burden to someone you didn’t ask to take your burden-causing ass.

“Luke, thank you for catching me and whatnot,” you began quietly, having Luke pull his pants up as he turned to face you once again. “I’m also sorry that you did but… you didn’t have to. I know, you care about me and love me or whatever, but I didn’t ask for you to do that. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt and I wouldn’t feel bad and have to apologize if you just let me fall completely.”

Luke just stared at you for a brief moment, before bringing his hand up to your forehead and flicking it.

“Oi, the fuck was that for, Hemmings?” You spat, bringing your left hand up to your forehead to rub it.

“You sound stupid when you rant invalid reasoning,” Luke said quietly, sauntering over to grab the chair back and sit himself back down. He winces. He folded one leg over the other, studying you wistfully. “Even as strangers, I wouldn’t want to see someone fall down, knowing damn well I could go over and prevent a way bigger damage that the bruise on my ass.”

Your palm was tickled by the wool sheets of the gurney as you distantly studied your black leggings. Luke bothered you, but not only because he was a persistent pest. He bothered you because even when he was like this, he was only doing it out of genuine care and kindness. He spoke words of sentiment to you, about you, without any hint of embarrassment. His heart is real and soft and full of warmth and completely saccharine. It bothered you because if you weren’t so stubborn, this would be taken, with ease, as the first time someone has given you romantic love.

“Where’s Sav, Des, and Alex?” You hummed, refusing to respond to his banter as you looked around to see the nurse vacant. It was just the two of you, it seemed.

“In class,” Luke hummed. “There’s about 15 more minutes before school is over, so just regain your energy before you could go home. I can take you if you’d–.”

“I’m good,” you quickly dismissed before letting out a sigh. You stomach grumbled, annoyed that you were still hungry. Your left hand subconsciously held your tummy, having you plot a plan to grab a sandwich before returning home. But it seems Luke was ahead of you on that.

“Someone left you food, by the way,” Luke hummed, having you turn to watch as Luke grabbed a brown paper back from the floor and offered it to you. You grabbed it weakly, placing it on your thighs as you opened it curiously. “I didn’t look in it, I swear.”

You snorted, digging through the bag to fish out a packed sandwich. You noticed it was from Five Guys, humoring you as you put it beside you before checking more of the bags contents. There was a Pure Leaf ice tea, lemon flavored and fairly cold. Putting that aside as well, you noticed a note at the very bottom. Picking it up, you tossed the brown bag away to your lower legs as you opened the note up.

‘I heard what happened– please eat up! I almost had a heart attack tbh. Anyways, this place makes my favorite sandwiches so I hope you like it. Nobody knows this, but I used to be extremely fat. Like, really fat. But puberty did me good and I still eat about 2 boxes of pizza to this day -H’

“What a loser,” you muttered under your breath, rising a bit to stuff the note into your back pocket with the other as you took the sandwich and dropped it on your thighs. You opened it quickly to reveal a nice sandwich before you. Your mouth was practically watering, super excited to eat the delicious food. But before you could, you felt two large, calloused hands wrap around the one being pumped with nutrients. You look over and see Luke stare at you, his eyes warm and soft with a curt smile playing at his lips.

“If I may, I’m going to use your invalid reasoning right now,” Luke hummed quietly. “You’re going to be in my team for the camping trip, and it’ll be my responsibility to take care of you. Don’t quote-unquote ‘burden me’ by being careless during that time, okay? But on a serious level, please don’t worry me. I’d hate for something to happen to you, especially when I’d be watching you.”

“Luke…” you began softly but he was quick to let go of your hand. He rose from the chair and stretched a bit, emitting a loud yawn. He cracked his knuckles a bit, adjusting his hair as he continued to look down wistfully at you. He bent down again, his hands down on the bed as his nose was just a few inches from yours.

“Get that permission slip signed, okay?” Luke requested calmly, giving you a blush-inducing wink. “A little birdie said you weren’t going, and I think that’s what you could do to pay back my services.”

You groaned, realizing he was the reason you weren’t currently suffering a concussion and potential brain damage.

“Okay, now shut up,” you growled, smashing the half sandwich again Luke’s lips. Luke chuckled, taking a bite before rising up again to make his way out of the nurse’s office. “Where are you off to?” You asked curiously, somewhat upset that he was leaving.

“I’m off to tell Ms. Lee that you’re okay as well as to get your work for the day,” Luke chimed, walking over to the doorway. He then halted, turned around to lean against the right side of it. “Nice sweatshirt by the way.”

With that, Luke Hemmings left you in the nurse, with food on your legs and your heart racing.

ooo look at me, productive and quick update wow. if you liked this chapter, pls lmk right ovah here, and ill see you at pt 11 xx

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