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yoongi-sugaglider · 3 years

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Artemis Rising

The story of a Goddess and a Demi God, star crossed lovers whose story was lost to the complexity of history. The truth is they were wronged. All because of the jealousy of a brother. Can they escape their fate in a modern age? Can reincarnation allow her to finally reunite with the ones who loved her?

genre: angst ; reincarnation/Greek mythology au ; werewolf au

pairing: Yoongi x reader; ot7 x reader ; ft: Ateez

warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse towards reader, vengeful ot7, inaccurate description of Ateez as aggressive (they’re sweet babies I swear! But Eomma needed a bad guy), fighting, character death, of age drinking (more to be added mayhaps?)

Word count: 3197

Chapter 2

Above the moon waned, it’s glorious light barely casting a glow upon the stilled seas that would normally grace sweet Gaia’s shores.

“My child, why do you weep so?” Leto stepped from the shadows. The soothing calm that normally encased the Titan Goddess of motherhood was gone, replaced with a sense of distress and panic at the sight of her precious daughter weeping upon a piece of sea swept driftwood.

“Mother…” Artemis sobbed, reaching out to the tall figure and crumpling into her lap.

“Artemis, my darling. Speak to me. Who is the cause of your tears?”

It took the moon goddess a while to answer, so wrapped up in her grief that her entire body trembled and the moon shed a little more of its light, now barely a sliver in the sky.

“It’s O...Orion. He’s...he’s gone mother. By mine own hand…”

Leto gasped, pulling away to stare down at Artemis with wide eyes.

“The young hunter boy? The one who’d caught your eye and joined you in your hunts?”

“The very same. Oh mother what do I do?”

The night wore on as the goddess of the moon wept, seeking comfort in the arms of Leto who could only stroke her back in comfort and attempt to soothe her broken soul.

The sun began to rise, it’s golden glow muted and pale as Apollo approached.

“Son. Is this your doing?” A hint of anger leached into the benevolent Titan’s voice as she gave her only son a heated stare.

“Mother...I…”

“You knew it was him!” Artemis stood, short sword in hand as she rounded on her once beloved brother. “You knew and you challenged me anyway! All of this born of your stupid misplaced jealousy!”

“Sister, please I just…”

Artemis cut him off, lunging forward with all of the intent of driving the golden steel of the Gods through his chest.

“Artemis no!!”

***

Panic gripped me as I lunged forward, arm outstretched as if attempting to reach...something.

I shook my head in bewilderment, hoping the motion would wake me up enough to remember the dream that had left me with tear stained cheeks and a pillow soaked in my own grief. As with every other dream of mine though, it’d faded too fast. A wisp of a thing fading away in the morning light.

I sighed, finally allowing my hand to fall to the coolness of the bedsheet. A glance beside me let me know that once again Hongjoong had woken long before me...that or he’d never come to bed as the sheets beside me were as cold and empty as always.

I sighed again, letting the loneliness of the early morning caress my cheeks and dry the tears left over from the formless nightmare. Eventually I was able to get myself motivated enough to get up and start the day. It was honestly a perk working from home that I didn’t have a specific time to get up. But I preferred working on my writing early on in the day so that I could have the evenings to myself to relax and do whatever needed to be done before Hongjoong got home.

After a quick shower and change of clothes I made my way down to the kitchen in the hopes of having a quiet breakfast.

"Miss…"

I couldn't help the squeak that left my lips when Yeosang's strong, deep voice echoed through the vast expanse of the kitchen. Eyes wide I stared at his broad back, confused as to how he even knew I was standing in the doorway. Standing at the stove was Seonghwa, cooking away in a world of his own.

At Yeosang’s acknowledgement of my presence Seonghwa glanced over to me. I couldn’t help but wither under his intense stare. A frown formed between his eyebrows as he took in the bruise on my left cheek that I’d failed to cover up with several layers of concealer along with the way I shrunk away from their combined stares.

Neither of them commented though and it came as a relief that they turned back to their respective tasks after a moment more of silence.

“There’s omelet rolls on the way. Meat’s cooked and on the table.” Seonghwa’s words weren’t spoken to anyone but I knew they were aimed at me. Whispering out a quick thank you I scurried over to the dining table, head down and eyes pinned to the small pile of bacon sitting before me.

The rest of the meal was delivered quickly, the imposing men’s silence deafening as usual as they seemed to tiptoe around me. I’d come to expect and accept it at this point as it seemed that each of my bodyguards was absolutely terrified of reaching out to me in any way.

I could have used the comfort. Used some sort of touch or a soothing word to get through the monotony of my days. But I suppose that’s what Yoongi was for…

So I turned to him. Once dishes were done and put away I began texting him, checking in on his day, asking the usual best friend questions and hanging on to every time the phone would vibrate while I worked in the relative quiet of my little writing corner. Before I’d even realized it, the day had moved on without me.

I glanced up out of the window, startling myself at the abrupt darkness that had swallowed the day and cast the world into the deepest recesses of twilight. Somehow I’d missed lunch and dinner, and the hunger gnawed at my stomach in a way that made me nervous just thinking about it.

Hongjoong would be home by now, and the mere thought of facing him after last night set me on edge.

“Have you been holed up in here all day?”

I couldn’t help the squeak of fear that escaped me. Whipping around I stared wide eyed at Hongjoong who’d somehow walked into my office without me hearing and was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hongjoong...I...I didn’t hear you come in…” I pressed my hand against my chest, struggling to still the rapid beating of my heart.

He smirked, dropping his arms and pushing away from the doorframe. His movements were so smooth, so calculated. My gaze swept his figure as he stalked towards me like a predator, noting he was still in his business suit and tie though the latter was untied and hung loosely from his neck.

“Good. You weren’t supposed to.”

I shrunk down in my chair as he towered over me, shadows cast on his face making it hard to gauge his mood or what he could possibly want with me.

“Your meeting. It went well I hope?” No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shove the slight quiver in my voice down and I hated myself for it. Hated that his presence alone struck such a level of fear in me even without him having done anything.

“Hmm…” His noncommittal hum echoed through the room and some part of me screamed in disgust at the way my body sagged with relief when he turned away from me and moved back to the bedroom door.

“I met with a few social acquaintances of mine.” Ever so slowly he closed the door, as if shutting the world out of our conversation. It wasn’t really necessary, no one here would ever dare walk in on him without announcing themselves first.

“Oh?” My tongue darted out to wet my lips and his eyes followed the motion almost hungrily. I couldn’t help but suppress the shudder of fear that raced through my bloodstream.

“You’re...acquaintances with that popular boy band...yes?” I couldn’t quite tell what he was after. His tone of voice was flat, almost as if he was already bored with the conversation even though he’d been the one to initiate it.

I turned in my computer chair to face him fully, watching as he leaned heavily on the closed door and folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m friends with them, yeah. Is...there…”

The sly grin that flashed across his face set every alarm bell ringing in my head. He was planning something, and the implications could honestly mean anything but none of it was anything good.

“I want you to invite them to the party tomorrow night. Make sure they come, no exceptions.”

I blinked, head tilting to the side as I followed his every move. He pushed away from the wall, stalking over to me slowly. It took everything in me to sit still instead of retreating back into myself as the predatory threat loomed over me in the form of Hongjoong’s imposing figure.

I stared at his chest for a moment as he pressed his hands on either side of me on the desk, effectively caging me in. When I’d finally found the nerve to look him in the eyes the fire there had me instantly shrinking in on myself.

“I want them there, no exceptions. No excuses.”

“Y...yes, okay Hongjoong…”

He continued staring at me for a long moment, face morphing into various emotions from distaste to mistrust and finally settling on neutral disgust. Grabbing my chin he pulled me close, sealing his lips against mine in some form of possessive dominance that had me melting in to him despite every cell of my being wanting to pull away and protect myself from him.

“That’s my good girl.” Patting my cheek he turned and marched off, leaving me confused and irritated with myself for the display of weakness.

***

“Hyung, remind me why we agreed to this again?” Jungkook coughed, slim fingers curled into the collar of his tie as he struggled to breathe around it.

“Because y/n asked us to, that’s why.” Seokjin growled, grabbing the young boy by the arm and twirling him just enough to reposition the tie accordingly and allow Jungkook to breathe.

“Well, I mean besides that…'' Jungkook blushed, eyes darting through the entryway and into the rest of the massive mansion. It’d taken everything Yoongi had to convince them to take their one day off to support their best friend. They’d been all for it up until he mentioned it’d been to support Kim Hongjoong’s ‘important announcement’. At that point they’d just about all gotten up and walked away until he mentioned she’d begged him specifically.

“Well here’s to hoping the food is at least good…” Taehyung muttered as he shoved his way into the entry hall and tossed his overly long coat at the poor overloaded coat rack in the corner.

“I swear if that fucker tries to make trouble for her tonight I’m going to tear his throat out.” Hoseok growled, eyes narrowed to slits as he’d just spotted the man in question.

Hongjoong strutted across the hall, disappearing through the large glass doors that led out to the lanai and the massive back yard where the main portion of the party was held.

“We’ll do no such thing.” Namjoon said. He placed a calming hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, giving the younger men each a piercing look that set them back to their relaxed state of alert once more.

“At least not until she’s ready to let him go and come home with us.” Yoongi huffed. He nodded for the lanai. “Let’s get out there, our girl needs us.”

The group complied, putting on their idol faces and smiling and waving to the small crowd that gathered as soon as they stepped out into the fairy light lit backyard. Finding her wasn’t hard. She flitted to and fro, handling one disaster or another while keeping a small smile plastered on her face as she played hostess to the hundreds of guests that’d been invited to witness whatever it was Hongjoong had planned to announce.

There even appeared to be several high ranking members of the press hanging around. Most hovering over the buffet style food tables while others interviewed various members of the staff along with guests in the hopes of getting an exclusive on what this party could be about.

“Vultures…” Yoongi muttered as he nursed the cup of punch he’d been handed by some faceless waiter.

“Aye, but they have their use. Keeps the eye on Hongjoong and off of me.” The soft voice that whispered beside him had him instantly grinning.

“Well hi there gorgeous.” He turned to her, eyes darting over her form to take in the sultry green dress she’d donned. The silken material hugged her in places that had him salivating, luckily though he was able to school his features quickly before she or anyone else could notice the hungry look he’d barely been able to control.

“Oh hush Yoongs. You know this is my least favorite dress.” She blushed, turning away from him to subtly fan the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Yeah, that may be. But anyone would be a fool not to appreciate what you’re flaunting.” He snickered half heartedly, hoping she’d take it as a joke and not as the truth he so desperately wanted to scream at her no matter who happened to be watching.

“Thank you for coming, Yoongi…” She whispered, eyes darting over to the grand stage Hongjoong had insisted be set up in the center of the garden.

“Anything for you little moon.” His words went unheard though as Hongjoong chose that moment to clear his throat into the microphone and interrupt any conversation that may have been taking place.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I’d like to have your attention for a moment if you don’t mind!”

“As you are all aware, my family has been a leading edge to our beautiful city for many a generation. My father swore to uphold the law to the best of his ability, and when he passed several years ago it left a void in so many people’s hearts. His father before him served as well, standing with his fellow citizens to fight against oppression and the government corruption that’d been keeping us all down up until his final breath.” Hongjoong bowed his head as the crowd applauded, cheering his forefathers and shouting various praises as to Hongjoong’s own accomplishments.

He held up a hand, shooting them all a winning smile as they quieted down to allow him to continue.

“Pompous prick…” Yoongi muttered, taking a sip of his punch to hide the movement of his lips.

“Tonight we are gathered here, not only in celebration, but in unity. To come together not as reporters and millionaires and chefs and idols. But as fellow citizens brought together by a single cause, to make this city great again! To make our neighborhoods safer and our children safer. To bring us all together under one unified cause so that we can make Seoul great again!”

The crowd roared to life, cheering Hongjoong’s name and surging forward to crowd the stage as he smiled upon them on like so many obedient children.

“And so!” He spoke over the cheers, somehow making himself heard despite the noise. “I’m officially announcing myself as being in the running for mayor. Rejoice! For change is here!”

The woman beside Yoongi squeaked, her face deathly pale as she seemed to be on the verge of either throwing up or passing out. Yoongi knew that look, knew the impending panic attack that came along with it and began ushering her towards the relative safety of the house.

“Yoongi I…”

“Hush little moon, let’s get you inside and away from this crowd.” His fingers curled around her arm and she seemed to want to lean into the touch, but just before they could reach the door she stopped and turned to him with a wide eyed stare.

“I...I was supposed to make sure we had more sauce for the shrimp cocktail… I...I can’t go in just yet…”

A throat cleared behind them and Yoongi instantly dropped his hand, turning to address the newly announced politician.

“Hongjoong..” Yoongi nodded, barely a jerk of his head in confirmation of the man’s presence really but it was just visible enough as to not seem disrespectful of the man’s status.

“Ah! The famous Min Yoongi!” The politician grinned, pulling his woman close and gripping her hip tightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard many good things about you from my precious fiancé.”

Yoongi grunted in response. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, claws growing and sharpening in response to his growing rage. At the first pinch of pain as they broke the skin he released his fists, forcing his fingers to hang limply at his side.

“Y/n, have you dealt with the catering issues my dear?”Hongjoong turned to her, eyes piercing into her own. It was him dismissing her from the conversation.

She glanced over to Yoongi, eyes filled with apology as she bowed low to the both of them, nearly bent in half as she excused herself from the conversation.

Hongjoong watched her leave, his stare predatory in nature as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

“I heard you’re running for mayor.” Yoongi spoke quietly, knowing the puffed up man would be able to hear him over the noise of the crowd of partygoers.

“Ah, you have?” Hongjoong turned back to Yoongi, that predatory glare still filling his eyes with an insanity that only those born to create chaos and destroy others could possess. “It’s a lofty goal I know. But I feel the need to change things comes with power. And this world could really use a little bit of change don’t you think?”

Yoongi knew he didn’t mean positive change of any kind. This man was far too prone to violence to mean anything more than chaos and destruction.

“How does y/n feel about all this?” Yoongi casually took a sip of his drink. He angled his body away from Hongjoong slightly, eyes darting around the garden. He spotted Jimin and Namjoon heading towards y/n and a small part of him relaxed greatly.

“Y/n? Now why would her opinion matter in the slightest?”

At that Yoongi returned the entirety of his attention to the mad man. “Why...she’s going to be your wife soon. Doesn’t the idea that she’s being thrust into the limelight bother her?”

Hongjoong shrugged, lifting his glass to take a sip of champagne. “Honestly no. She knew my goals before she said yes. If she has anything negative to say about it she’ll tell me and we can address it accordingly.”

The pure menace in his tone let Yoongi know the discussion wouldn’t be very long and would almost surely end up with her gaining a new bruise or two, if not a trip to the hospital.

“For her sake Hongjoong...I really do hope you have her best interests at heart…” Yoongi turned to the man, his drink long forgotten as he fixed the man with a fierce glare.

“Because if anything else happens to her and I find you...you’ll wish you’d stayed in whatever gutter hole you crawled out of to get here.”

#bts x reader #bts soulmate au #bts werewolf au #bts greek god au #bts mythology au #bts angst #ateez angst #ateez greek god au #bts min yoongi x reader

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everwizard · 3 years

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In the Eye of the Beholder

Chapter Two: In the Forest

Word count: 2,295

Warnings: Violence, theft

Chapter summary: Dream embarks on his journey to the Antarctic Empire.

AO3 Link

Dream's group traveled for a day and a half without incident. It would be another half day to reach the border where they had planned to meet Philza.

Dream was sat upon his horse, Spirit, listening to the sounds of the forest and the babbling of his friends, when a sudden noise caught his attention.

"Hey! Be quiet for a second," he said.

"Don't tell me what to do, Dream," Sapnap retorted.

"Seriously. Just shut up for a second."

Sapnap crossed his arms with a frown as he stopped talking. Not a moment after, an arrow whizzed past his head and stuck in a tree behind him with a thunk.

"Sapnap!" Dream cried out, "George! Get down!" Dream jumped off his horse and drew his blade. He could hear his companions dismounting behind him as another arrow flew past.

Dream stood in a fighting stance as he honed his hearing on anything out of place. He could hear birds chirping, the wind rustling the trees, the horses tails flicking, and to his left, the sound of a crossbow being loaded.

He made a dash in the direction of the noise, dodging trees and branches through the sound of their blowing leaves. George followed after, just a few paces behind Dream as Sapnap stealthily snuck through the brush.

Dream sprinted through the forest until he came to a small clearing not too far from where they left their horses. Stood in the clearing was a man holding a loaded crossbow. It was aimed at Dream.

The unknown archer released the bolt just in time to be tackled by Dream. It grazed his shoulder but Dream paid it no mind as he pinned their assailant, the crossbow clattering a short distance away. He brought his sword to the attacker's neck and rested it against his Adam's apple.

"Who are you? Why are you shooting at us?" Dream demanded.

"We were hired to despoil anyone who comes through here. It's nothing personal, just business."

"Wait," George started, "We?"

As he spoke, a second attacker emerged from the brush and lunged for the knight. The man wielded an axe and swung it haphazardly in a desperate attempt to make contact.

George blocked the attacks with his own blade. He was a skilled swordsman and was holding his own quite well against the goon.

Dream turned his attention to the scuffle, listening for any signs that his friend may be losing. He didn't notice when the man pinned below him reached out and grabbed ahold of his crossbow. He didn't notice when the man aimed the weapon at George's head. He didn't notice when the archer pulled the trigger.

The sound of metal piercing metal rang out as a second crossbow bolt rammed into the first. Sapnap emerged from his hiding spot, wielding his own crossbow. He quickly reloaded it and aimed it at the axe-wielding assailant. "Stop or I'll shoot," he declared. The tip of his bolt glowed blue as enchanted fire danced upon it. Sapnap could feel the heat radiating from it but ignored it as he stared down George's combat partner.

The man hesitated for a moment and lowered his axe.

"Good," said Sapnap, "now drop it and we can talk about this like grown ups."

The attacker bent over in a show to gently set the axe down as Sapnap kept the crossbow trained on him. As he reached the ground, he made a swing for George's leg. George jumped out of the way as Sapnap released the bolt. The crossbow bolt embedded into the attacker's shoulder as the axe cut into George's ankle, not deep enough to cause lasting damage but still deep enough to be painful. He let out a hiss as he fell to the ground, holding his injury.

Dream looked up just in time for the attacker's shirt to burst into flames. The man cried out in pain as he desperately tried to extinguish the flames. Dream stood from where he pinned the man with the crossbow and stepped on his chest to keep him down, keeping his sword pointed at the man's neck.

"George!" he called out. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine! Can we just deal with these guys?"

"Got it!" Dream responded as he pushed his sword into his hostage's neck, just deep enough to draw blood. "Now, I'm sure you gentlemen know that attacking a member of the royal family is treason, a crime punishable by death. I can be reasonable. We can make a deal. Either you give me all your stuff and we never see you again or we kill you and take your things anyway. Your choice."

The flaming man shared a look with his accomplice and dropped his weapon. "You won't hurt us if we leave?"

Dream nodded. "That is correct. However, I want you to empty your pockets right here, right now. The only thing you may keep is the clothes on your back."

The man hastily began dumping his pockets. Out spilled gold, jewelry, miscellaneous weapons and other small assorted items.

Dream helped his captive to his feet, keeping his sword trained on the other at all times. "You too," he prompted.

Similar items cascaded from the other man's many pockets. There was a small pile of loot on the forest floor when the two had finished.

Dream lowered his weapon. "Okay. You can leave. Now go before I change my mind."

The two men made a mad dash into the forest, not daring to look back.

"I'll take care of George," Dream offered. "You can have the bolts for your crossbow if you want."

Metal rods clattered together as Sapnap gathered the man's bolts. He then collected all the valuables from the floor and put them in a pouch.

Dream fished bandages from his satchel along with a healing potion. Handing the potion to George, he began wrapping his friend's ankle.

George took a drink of the potion and felt the healing effect rush through him almost instantly. He set the bottle down with a refreshed sigh. "Thanks, Dream," he said.

Dream continued wrapping George's ankle without a word. When he was finished, he returned the remaining bandages to his satchel and helped George to his feet. Only after he was sure George could stand on his own did he say, "You're welcome, George."

"All done?" Sapnap asked.

"I think so," Dream replied. "You ready, George?"

"Whenever you are."

Dream nodded, "Lead the way then."

They returned to their trusted equines and mounted their respective horses.

"By the way," Sapnap enquired, "why did you want their stuff? You have the entire kingdom's vault at home."

"Honestly?" Dream laughed, "I thought it would be funny."

Dream spurred his horse and they continued on the path to the Antarctic Empire.

They could tell they were close to their destination due to the rapidly dropping temperature. It wouldn't be long until they reached Philza.

They had stopped a short while ago to change into warmer clothes. Dream wore a thick dark green hooded cloak that wrapped around his entire body. It was trimmed with brown fur at the hood and along the edges. He had also put on a thicker blouse and pair of trousers. George was adorned in a capelet of pastel blues. He had multiple layers of clothes underneath with varying thicknesses and shades of blue. Sapnap wore the least, depending on only a mid-length cape made of red and white fur in addition to his usual clothing and armor.

As they made their way through the chilly Surmup forest, they could hear the echoes of a shouting child.

"What do you suppose that is?" George pondered.

"I don't know," Dream said, straining his ears in the direction of the sound, "want to go check it out?"

"Couldn't hurt," George shrugged as he steered his horse off the path. "It doesn't seem that far, we should be able to help and not lose too much time."

The trio and their horses wandered in the direction of the noise. As they got closer, the shouting got louder. Soon they could hear additional voices mixed in, though it seemed like the child was leading the conversation.

Dream tried to listen to the conversation but could not understand everything with all the overlapping voices.

"I...to bring…bo," the child with the high voice complained. Dream noted how the voice sounded like drawings made of crayon and chalk.

"...just a few days," said an older voice. It was more distinguished and sounded like chestnuts and fire and all things warm and safe.

"...dy got to come!" the child retorted.

"Fundy is family," a new voice chimed in. This one--a smooth tenor--reminded Dream of hot chocolate by the fireplace, topped with marshmallows, whipped cream, and cinnamon.

"Boys!" the second voice reprimanded. Everyone stopped talking as if they'd just noticed something they hadn't previously seen. "Sorry about them," he continued, "they can get pretty heated."

It was then that Dream realized this man was talking to him. "Oh! Uh, it's fine. Did you all need any help with something? It's a bit cold to be out here this late."

It was clear that this group could see Dream but he couldn't say the same about them. He decided to continue to be courteous to them despite not knowing who they are or what they were doing out in the cold.

"Wait! Dad, are these the guys you were going on about?" the whining child from earlier asked.

"That depends who's asking," Sapnap countered.

"Sapnap, please," Dream scolded, "not right now."

"Oh it's alright," the man cut in, "I'm Emperor Philza of the Antarctic Empire and these are my boys." He made a dramatic gesture to his own group before turning back to Dream's. "You must be Prince Dream of Surmup along with Sirs George and Sapnap."

Dream quickly dismounted his horse and performed a deep bow out of respect. "I'm so sorry, your Majesty. I didn't realize--"

Philza scoffed, cutting the prince off, "You don't need to be so formal. You can just call me Phil."

"Right. Okay. Phil," Dream stammered out.

"And these young men," Phil continued, "are my family." He gestured to a group of four, starting with the oldest, a half-pig wearing a deep red cloak lined with white fur as well as a golden crown. "You've met Technoblade."

It was true. Technoblade, or Techno as he preferred, had spent time training in Surmup Techno was the only person Dream had met whose combat skills rivaled his own. He was still looking forward to their eventual rematch.

"Hello," Techno waved, a man of few words. His voice was low, steady, and firm, like a boulder standing strong against the elements.

Phil moved on to the next son. He wore a yellow sweater paired with a maroon sash and a blue winter cloak. Various potions littered his clothes for easy access. "This is Wilbur."

"How's it going?" he greeted. Dream noted that this was the man that had the hot chocolate voice.

Dream nodded in response, both to Wilbur's question and Phil's statement.

Phil then gestured to a very tall child donned in all white with the exception of a bright red cape draped over one shoulder. "This is Tommy, the problem child."

"Oi!" he retorted, "I'm not a problem child, I'm awesome." This was clearly the loud one from earlier.

"Sure," Phil smirked as he moved to an orange-haired man with fox ears. He wore a black hat and jacket with four different blues accenting. There was orange fur peeking out from under the jacket at the neck and wrists. "And this is my grandson, Fundy."

"Nice to meet you," he said in a voice that sounded like salted caramel and something else Dream couldn't quite place. It was clear from the lower pitch that this man was fully grown and definitely older than the child, Tommy. He couldn't have been much younger than Techno and Wilbur.

"How does that work?" George cut in.

Phil laughed. "Care to explain, Wil?"

Wilbur sighed. "He's my son. I accidentally spilled an aging potion on him a few months ago."

"And I wouldn't let him turn me back," Fundy finished. "So I've been nineteen for three months."

"But the dickhead has only existed for like a year and a half," Tommy whined.

"Don't call your nephew a dickhead," Phil admonished.

Dream laughed at the exchange. It was a very different atmosphere from the rigid and formal structure of the castle. It reminded him of when he was a child. Before he lost his eyesight. When he, George, and Sapnap could run around without the responsibility of an entire nation on their shoulders. He smiled sadly at the thought.

"You already know who we are so it doesn't look like introductions are necessary."

"You could still introduce yourselves if you want," Phil said warmly.

Dream cleared his throat. "Right. I am Prince Dream of Surmup but you can just call me Dream."

George spoke up next. "I'm George, First Knight to the Prince of Surmup."

"And I'm Sapnap, Dark Knight to the Prince of Surmup," Sapnap concluded.

"Lovely to meet you all," Phil smiled. "Now I'm sure you're all very tired from your trip so I would like to invite you to join us at the inn we're staying in. You can rest for the night and we'll help at the border in the morning. How does that sound?"

Dream considered his options, and an inn was definitely nicer than setting up a camp in the middle of the cold forest. "That sounds great," he agreed. "Lead the way?"

"Sure."

Dream remounted his horse and followed the sound of five sets of feet in the direction of an inn.

#dream smp #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #philza minecraft #fundy #technoblade #blind character #dream is blind #fantasy au

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mrs-hyperfixed-writes · 4 years

Text

Dead Memories

The Host doesn’t like Yancy. When Yancy aims to find out why the Host takes things too far.

@thomothysdoodles

I finally got round to it. I feel like the quality of this deteriorated the further down I got but oh well.

A Heist With Markiplier had done very well, and as a result 3 new egos had been “born”. They had fit in well. Magnum was loud and boisterous and got along well with Wilford but had the common sense to hold the lunatic by the back of the shirt whenever he attempted to do anything suicidal, much to the relief of Dark. Illinois was charming and could reduce most of the egos to a blushing mess in no time with his flirting. He also had some wonderful stories that he had given the Host permission to write down. There was one problem though. Yancy. The Host didn’t like Yancy. He had been as quiet as a mouse when he had been introduced, having seemingly lost the confidence he had had in prison. When he had finally opened up he was just as loud as Magnum before he quieted down again and went back to his timid ways. These were normal characteristics, but something about the man just rubbed him the wrong way. Something about him felt dangerous. Everyone knew he had killed his mother and father, but no one seemed to be aware of that capability for violence that lurked underneath Yancy’s skin. But the Host knew. As soon as the Host had been near Yancy he’d been struck with a vision so violent that the blood had poured from his eyes, much to Yancy’s horror. As a result he tended to avoid him whenever he could, opting to just stay in his library and work. Yancy’s past reminded him of someone long dead.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t avoid him forever. And Yancy had started to notice how the Host turned on his heel whenever Yancy and him had accidentally appeared in the same room or how the Host would rush by him if they were forced to go past each other in the hallway. At first Yancy had been slightly relieved, the Host was a terrifying being and was taller than most of them. To be honest Yancy had started off avoiding all of the egos until he had been talked into socialising after an incident. It hadn’t been so bad, Wilford had just pissed everyone off when it had gotten stuck in his head. And then everyone else had gotten it stuck in their head. But everyone preferred having Yancy’s signature song memorised rather than not having Yancy here at all.

Now that Yancy was beginning to settle down properly with the rest of the egos he was beginning to take things a bit more personally.

So Yancy resolved to go down to the Host’s library and ask him what the hell his problem was.

***

Yancy had to admit, he was impressed. The library was where the basement should be, but as soon as he stepped inside he knew that some magic had to be at play. The ceiling was so high that he couldn’t see it, the shelves so tall that it would be impossible for him to reach the top of them. The carpet was red and plush and the gargantuan room was illuminated by what appeared to be bright candlelight without a single candle in sight. The smell of old books permeated the air. It was a beautiful place, and Yancy felt slightly sorry for the Host for not being able to see it.

He wandered down the aisles idly, not really knowing where he was going and what he was looking for. After a little while he had forgotten why he had originally come down and instead ran a finger over the hardback spines of the books. Some were black, some were red, some were a deep green. Golden letters in a beautiful looping scrawl adorned them. He was tempted to bring one out and look at the handwriting on the pages, but part of him remembered that everything in this library belonged to the Host. He didn’t want to risk pissing him off too bad by touching something he wasn’t supposed to.

A prison flashback came to him unbidden. A flashback that showed a young Yancy reaching out to grab an apple off another inmate s lunch tray. He wasn’t going to eat it anyway. Big mistake. Yancy had ended up with a snapped wrist for his trouble. Of course the man who had snapped his wrist had ended up in solitary, and some of the older prisoners had rallied around him to teach him how prison worked. They had taught him well. Yancy had been the leader and the Warden’s favourite right up until Dark had come to get him.

He had been fairly lost at first. The environment in the mansion had been so different to prison, but just like those old prisoners had done, some of the egos had rallied around him. Many of them were surprisingly paternal.

But not the Host. And Yancy was reminded of his purpose when he came to an enormous gap in the shelves. And he quickly discovered that the Host used this space for his office.

Across from Yancy sat a decently sized mahogany desk that was adorned with a short stack of papers, and an old-fashioned golden pen with an inkwell next to it . A cushioned brown leather chair served as the seat for when work needed to be done. Off to the right side of the clearing was a comfortable looking armchair with a small end table next to it.. But no sign of the Host.

He must be further into the library. Yancy entertained the thought of turning back, but if he didn’t do this now then he would never have the courage. So he sat in the armchair and waited. And waited. And waited.

The library was so warm and the lights were at a dim glow. Why would a blind man need light? He thought to himself as his eyelids started drooping. He had been having trouble sleeping recently in unfamiliar terrain. He fought to stay awake. In the prison if you fell asleep anyway but your bunk then you were either going to be woken with a beating or with something missing. Falling asleep was dangerous. And he didn’t want the Host to find him asleep in his library. But he couldn’t help himself as sleep dragged him down into the abyss.

***

Yancy didn’t know what time it was when he was woken up by the scratching of a pen. It could have been hours or minutes and he would have been none the wiser. He kept his eyes shut.

“The Host knows Yancy is awake,” came the delicate voice from off Yancy's right.

He uncurled himself from the couch and peeled his eyes open. The Host sat at his desk and scratched away with his golden pen at his stack of papers. Half of the stack was now off to the side. How long had Yancy slept?

The Host was just as imposing as when Yancy had first met him. He didn’t have the same kind of terrifying raw power as Dark, but something oozed out of him. Even in his chair he was tall. His head was down towards the paper he was writing on, the bandages covering his sockets beginning to go red with blood. He was muttering under his breath as he wrote, quiet enough that the scratching of the pen nearly drowned out his voice.

“Yancy needs to leave.”

Straight to the point then.

Yancy shook his head as he spoke, “No, not until youses tell me why youse been acting so weird.”

Yancy moved to stand in front of the Host’s desk, determined to stand his ground.

The pen stopped, and the Host moved his head up to seemingly stare at Yancy. Yancy felt those empty eye sockets cut right through him. He wondered if they were really pitch black inside.

The Host seemed to consider for a moment, “If Yancy wishes to know, he makes the Host uncomfortable. Now that he has his answer, Yancy needs to leave.”

Yancy was taken aback. Sure, he had made people uncomfortable before. But that was usually on purpose, throwing his weight around so that new prisoners understood the hierarchy. But he hadn’t actually done anything to the Host. Had he?

The Host went back to scratching away with his pen. That was it? He wasn’t even going to tell Yancy why? He felt his anger rising in a way that it hadn’t since he had gotten out of prison. That wasn’t good. His temper could be dangerous and make him do stupid things. But he was a slave to it. Yancy waited and waited while his anger grew. He wasn’t going to leave until the Host acknowledged him again and told him why Yancy was such a source of discomfort. Without thinking about the consequences, Yancy marched over to the Host and ripped the pen out of his hand.

He had been midway through a word, and now a line had been jerked across the page and through the paragraph that the Host had been in the middle of writing. As Yancy yanked it back the inkwell spilled over the pages that the Host had written on, effectively ruining the whole pile. Somewhere in the back of Yancy’s head that registered as being a very bad thing. He almost wanted to apologise. But his anger was still fierce.

The Host wouldn’t have accepted his apology at this point anyway.

“What the hell is youses problem?!” Yancy hissed.

The Host was silent for a minute. Then he stood up.

“How long before Yancy turns those hands on one of the other egos?”

“What-”

The Host interrupted him. He was angrier than Yancy now, and the impact that his words were going to have hadn’t yet reached him. “The Host sees everything. The Host sees Yancy as a teenager. He sees Yancy’s mother with her back turned staring out of the kitchen window.”

Yancy’s anger dissipated. It had been replaced with cold dread. He knew where this was going.

“Yancy’s mother feels dissapointed. Her son was expelled for getting into fights. She doesn’t know what to do. Lost in her thoughts she doesn’t hear him. Not until his hands are wrapped around her throat.”

Yancy took a step back, dropping the pen.

“She reaches up and starts clawing at his hands, desperately trying to pry him from her neck. Desperately trying to get some air in. She can’t make any noise. She can’t call out for her husband to save her. She tries to reach for a knife, but even now she can’t bring herself to hurt her son like that. He notices her reaching and yanks her away from the counter, pulling her down onto the floor. Hurting her son be damned, her brain is in survival mode and she begins to thrash. But she doesn’t realise it’s too late, only that she’s in some of the worst pain she’s ever felt. Her arteries have ripped and her blood has entered her arterial wall. She’s having a stroke.”

“Please stop,” Yancy begged.

“She’s dying. And her second to last thought before she fully slips into death’s embrace is what did I do? She feels betrayed, and yet she still can’t bring herself to hate her son. And as her soul finally leaves she thinks please God don’t let anyone hurt him.”

Yancy fell to his knees, devastated. He hugged himself as he felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. How was he supposed to react to this? He wanted to shrivel up and die. But the Host wasn’t done.

“Now how about Yancy’s father?”

Yancy shook his head. He wanted to beg the Host to stop. He would do anything.

“Yancy’s father came downstairs after ten minutes to find his son still choking the corpse of his dead wife. Yancy raised his head to look up at him. Everything happened so fast, too fast for his father to fight him off.. Yancy had reached towards the counter and ran at his father to attack. At first he had thought his son had punched him repeatedly. And he foolishly thought to himself that he could have a chance of survival if he ran. Then he felt the warmth. He felt like he was covered in hot sweat, and then he looked at his son. His son was holding a knife with a blade covered in so much red that it had coated the handle, thick red rivulets of it ran down his hand. He looked down at his chest. He couldn’t see the wounds. His white shirt had been dyed completely red and stuck to his chest. It was beginning to run down his trousers and stain the carpet. And then he felt the pain. He felt the hot searing pain in his organs. He screamed, and Yancy lunged forward to slit his throat.”

Yancy was sobbing openly now, uncaring of the Host’s presence.

“The man felt the same betrayal his wife had, and as he choked on his own blood he hoped that they wouldn’t kill his son when they found him.”

Yancy’s heart cleaved in two. Even in the end his parents had loved him. He was a monster. The Host was right, it would only be a matter of time before Yancy turned on his new family. He didn’t deserve to be here. He should be back in prison suffering alone in solitary. Without thinking, he got up and ran past the Host, going further into the library until the Host could no longer hear his cries of anguish.

***

The Host had made his way up to the Doctor’s office, his bandages heavy with blood after forcing those visions of Yancy’s parents. It had been a slightly painful process removing his bandages, the blood acting as a glue. Dr Iplier had used cotton swabs to reach into his sockets and clear out fresh blood as well as blood that had dried to the inside of his sockets. He had remained silent for the entire cleaning process, mulling over what he had said to Yancy. Maybe he had gone slightly too far, but Yancy had ruined an entire book. And he hadn’t been wrong about Yancy’s capacity for violence.

“Have you seen Yancy?” Dr Iplier asked as he cleared the last of the blood from the Host’s gaping eye sockets.

“The Host has not,” he lied, hoping the doctor wouldn’t sniff out his guilt.

The Host wasn’t good at keeping secrets, it went against the very nature of his powers. He fought to keep from narrating what had happened in the library when Dr Iplier had asked, instead focussing on narrating his surroundings.

Dr Iplier wrapped a fresh bandage around the Host’s eyes. “None of us have seen him all day. I’m afraid that he’s going to do something stupid.”

“What does Dr Iplier mean?”

“I’m honestly shocked the all-seeing Host never saw it,” Dr Iplier joked, trying to mask his obvious worry.

“The Host is not all-seeing,” the Host said as he beckoned for the doctor to continue.

Dr Iplier sighed. “You know it took him a while to adjust. Well, in the first few weeks before he came out of his shell he tried to kill himself. Broke into my office when I stepped out and tried to overdose. I’m afraid that something might tip him over the edge.”

The Host froze.

Oh no. No no no. The Host had gone too far. He knew he’d gone too far. Not even ten minutes after Yancy had ran from him, the Host had started to feel as though there were stones in his stomach, and he didn’t want to admit to himself that he was beginning to feel regret. The weight of his mistake hit him like a train, forcing the breath out of him. Dr Iplier shot him a quizzical look that the Host ignored in his panic. He hadn’t liked Yancy, but he hadn’t wished for his death. All of his thoughts crashed into him. Who was he to judge Yancy anyway? He had been a monster too at one point. And this. . . if he had pushed Yancy to the edge then it would be even more blood on his hands.

Yancy might still be in his library. He had to find him. As soon as a fresh bandage covered his eye sockets he shot out of the office and ran.

***

The Host had forced a vision. It made him bleed profusely and he would probably need to go back to the doctor fairly soon, but it had helped him find Yancy. He was deep in the library, and the Host found him curled up hugging his knees and sniffling, just like he had been in the Host’s vision. Yancy’s face was red and streaked with tears, his brown eyes bloodshot and the skin around them puffy. He was breathing hard, exhausted from the excessive sobbing. If he heard the Host’s approach then he ignored him.

“Yancy?”

Still Yancy ignored him. The Host didn’t blame him.

“Yancy, the Host is sorry.”

Still nothing. Sighing, the Host sat on the floor across from him, back leaning against the bookshelf and crossing his legs.

“Just leave me to starve,” Yancy whispered. “I’m a monster. They loved me and I killed them. All because I can’t keep my cool.”

The Host winced. He shouldn’t have told him their last thoughts. It had probably made it easier believing that his parents had hated him in those last moments. The Host had made a terrible mistake.

“Yancy isn’t a monster. The Host is a monster.”

Yancy lifted his eyes from his feet to stare at the Host, obviously curious but at the same time too afraid to ask. The Host was using his sight to look at the smaller man, blood slowly leaking through his bandages again as a result. Yancy looked so small and vulnerable curled up in the Host’s library. It made his heart twist with even more regret.

“The Host ignored Yancy. He ignored Yancy’s issues. He ignored Yancy’s pain. And the Host has no right to judge if Yancy has violent tendencies.” The Host took a deep breath, his own memories just as painful. “The Host was someone else before. Someone who did terrible things. He hurt people for fun. He would break people’s legs with his bat and watch them crawl. He would cut off slices of skin and make them swallow it. He would put out cigarettes on his victims eyes. So the Host supposes that Yancy and the Host aren’t so different after all. No amount of apologies can take away what the Host and Yancy did, but all they can do is try to move on.” The Host took another deep breath. “The Host is sorry. He truly is. And he will spend as long as is necessary to make it up to Yancy.”

Yancy stared at him, but at least his tears had stopped flowing. The same couldn’t be said for the blood still dripping out of the Host’s eye sockets.

Finally Yancy uncurled himself, wiping his eyes and face as he did so. “It’s. . . It’s alright.”

It wasn’t alright, and the Host didn’t feel any better. In fact, he felt worse. And things were beginning to grow awkward in the silence that stretched out between them. The Host looked for something, anything to say.

“Does Yancy like to read?”

Yancy looked down at his feet, almost seeming to be ashamed. “I can’t read.”

The Host cocked his head in surprise. Yancy was illiterate?

“I just. . . never did so well in school. And people in prison don’t care if you read good, ya know? One cellmate once read his book to me once when I asked, but I was too embarrassed to ask if he’d teach me.”

Yancy wanted to learn to read. And the Host had a library full of books.

“Then the Host will teach Yancy.”

“Youses don’t have-”

The Host held up his hand. “It’s the least the Host can do. He will not take no for an answer.”

Finally, Yancy nodded. And the Host was pleased to see a timid smile on his face.

The Host stood and offered the smaller man a hand. “Lets begin.”

#markiplier #markiplier egos #the host #yancy #yancyiplier

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seijohsfairy · 3 years

Text

𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙻𝚈 𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙴𝙳

after four long years across the world hajime is finally coming home to his puppy again. and you’ve missed him like crazy, that’s very easy to see. i chose the words pink collar for this valentines event so i’m very excited to write my first actual petgirl fic for the sewer! ✧ two in the pink masterlist ✧ please go support the amazing creators there as well!!

.wordc. 3.5k+ tw puppy!reader, hard dom!iwa, daddy kink, spanking, finger sucking, spit, hairpulling, choking/collaring, sub/dom themes, degradation, a little bit of breeding

He chuckles, looking at your pronounced pout through the screen as Mattsun gently shakes your interlaced hands back and forth. “Well,” the pink haired man grins, aiming his phone toward the exit for a few seconds, then back at you. “What are you thinking, pretty girl?”

“Hm?” is all you say, blinking your big eyes at the long, empty hallway expectantly.

Mattsun chuckles when you lean a bit more into his arm, going to stand on your toes to try and see over the line of people in front of you to no avail. He gazes down at you for a few seconds with a smile, before leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Got nothing to say?” And when you look up with your pouted lips they’ve become all too familiar with, he ducks down to press another kiss there too. Not that it soothes you much, judging by the nervous way your fingers tangle into the edge of your skirt. “Daddy’s coming home, yeah? Excited?” Mattsun tries again, and you whine at the mere mention of him.

“Daddy’s coming?” you whisper, looking back up at the tall brunet for confirmation once more, something that makes him melt a little more. Sure, the both of them hadn’t exactly planned on being a caretaker for you while your boyfriend was overseas, but it’d become plenty clear that you needed all the help you could get. And it didn’t hurt that your clinginess had perks for the both of them too, definitely with you practically living with them both in the meantime. When Mattsun nods, you let out another little whimper, now basically shaking on your legs from excitement. “Right now?”

You’re already tearing up by the time the first people make it to the terminal, no longer caring about anything but the idea that within the next few minutes you’d finally see him in person again. “Look at you,” Makki laughs behind the camera, before walking closer to your side and handing Mattsun the camera for a second. “What’s going on, hm? You’re crying because you’re happy?” It only takes a little coaching to get you to pry yourself from Mattsun’s side over to the other man, slipping under his arm easily but not yet looking away.

“Daddy’s coming. Missed daddy.” You’re trembling now, and Makki wraps his arm tight around your waist to keep you from getting too excited right here and now. Such a sweet, little thing. “He’s coming home now? Really?” As soon as Mattsun hums again, you’re grabbing onto his one hand, taking Makki’s in the other and holding onto their fingers for support. Makki takes another second to admire you, pink collar proudly on display and shining against your skin, looking so sturdy around your dainty and fragile, little neck.

They left the leash in the car, but for a second he wonders if he should’ve just taken it with him anyway. When he looks back at the hall, Hajime sticks out above some of the other travelers like a feast for sore eyes. Glowing, skin golden and warm, with his hair sticking up in tufts even more unruly than normal. He doesn’t blame you for shaking on your feet the way you do, it was more than expected. Hajime’s eyes widen with focus when flicking around at the people, before he smiles wide, spotting you between his two friends. The suitcase hobbles as he hauls it behind him, rushing the walk to get to the gates already.

And as soon as he’s through, you’re already running over, jumping and being caught in his tight embrace as he twirls you around a few times, dropping the handle of his luggage. Your soft whimpers of his name are swallowed when he pulls back to kiss you silly, hands instantly wrapping around his neck to keep him as close as humanly possible. Even for the guys standing to the side to watch, it’s heartwarming, and Mattsun quickly shuts off the video to hand the device back.

“Four years is a long ass time,” Makki starts, grinning when Hajime pulls back from you with flushed lips to give him a quick side hug, not yet able to let you go.

Not that you would anyway, basically molded to the shape of his body as you litter kisses over the exposed parts of his neck and chest. “Hey, puppy,” Iwa manages to say, watching you pull back to sniffle and rub your body up against him in happiness. He leans down a little to brush away your tears, and places another kiss on your nose. “Someone missed her daddy.”

“Missed you so much,” you sniffle, shifting your arms down to around his waist and nuzzling your face into his shirt. “Welcome back, Hajime.” He smiles as he pets your head, not wanting to make a whole scene here, but he could eat you right up with how gentle and adorable you’re being. “Never leave me that long again.” Looks like the time away didn’t lessen your adoration for him, not even close. The other brunet grabs the suitcase before motioning towards the exit of the airport.

The guys giggle when you cling to your boyfriend like he’s going off the war, his expression softening at the sight of you. Of course, there’d been trips flying back to Japan in between, but they’d been scarce and always felt too short. Iwa barely manages to get you away from him enough to look at you again, but after a few seconds of reassuring he won’t be going anywhere, you let him lift you up so you can bury your face into his neck and wrap your legs tightly around his waist.

Makki’s quick to pull your collar a little with one finger slipping into one of the metal loops to make you whimper, before leaning down to whisper in your ear as you four walk through the mess of people. “You should stop making a scene or it’ll take even longer ‘til we get you home, puppy. Behave.” Iwa only lets out an amused breath when you whine at the order, quickly burying your face back in the same spot where you kiss and lick like it’s life or death.

The guys know your antics well enough to ignore it for the most part, walking out into the fresh air. “What were they feeding you abroad?” Mattsun grins after a second, “you look about twice the size.”

“I’ve just actually been hitting the gym some and haven’t been sitting still at my boring job all day like you.” He does look bigger, both more grown into his features and taller, able to dwarf you over more than he already did when he left four painfully long years ago, with the promise to return as soon as possible. He grins though, deserved pride radiating off of him and an air of confidence his years in Cali must have nurtured, before giving Makki a look. “Well, one of you—”

And when Mattsun ruffles Hajime’s hair as a friendly welcome back with a few less words, Makki just scrunches his nose up, before giving a jab into his arm. “Low fuckin’ blow, dude.”

As soon as the guys drop you off at home, Hajime has to hold you away from him while climbing the stairs, quick to jam the keys into lock and haul the luggage into the house. They promised to swing by later, already knowing it’d be impossible to pry you away from Hajime for at least a few hours.

The door is shut quickly, your hands roaming the planes of his chest and stomach and quickly slipping under the fabric to feel his warm skin under your hands, pussy already slicking at the mere thought of him. But you don’t even get the chance to pull him towards you when Iwa crowds you into the door, reaching up to pull your head back by your hair and watch you as your eyes fill with tears. “Daddy, daddy, want you, w-want you so bad.” You squeak when he presses you into the cold door more, shifting your legs apart to allow him more access.

“My needy, little bitch,” he grunts, dragging his lips down the exposed part of your throat and leaving open mouthed kisses there, making the bell on your collar ring. He kisses and bites until your legs shake and your grip on his shoulders grows tighter, knowing your signs too well still.

The way you’re rocking your waist back and forth like an animal in heat, head all the way thrown back. He leans in more to drag his tongue down the free part of your neck, before biting down hard. And the effect is instant, because your legs give out as your high pitched moans grow louder, needy begs making his cock twitch.

“Daddy, wanna feel your cock inside me already, please. Please pleaseplease. N-need you t’ fill me up, oh- f-fuck, need your cum in me.” You’re so much smaller under him, he almost forgot just how easy it is to make you submit to him by sheer presence. But you’re so desperate, rolling your hips against his thigh and blinking through wet, glistening lashes when he gives you a little grin.

You lean up to drag your mouth along his neck and collarbones too, whimpering each time you rub your covered clit over his jeans, wetness seeping through the fabric. Your hand under his shirt pushes it up, revealing his muscular chest and abs and making you moan. He tightens his grip in your hair and on your thigh when rocking his hips against you. “The guys better have taken real good care of you.”

“They tried their -hng- best, but—” you whimper, pushing your body up against him more and feeling the heat build between the two of you until it becomes unbearable, “not as good as daddy. Missed daddy, always miss daddy so, oh, m-much!” For a second you pull away to claw at his arms, so he lifts the tank top over his head and tosses it aside, then crushing you back to the door and pressing his muscular thigh higher. Rubbing up against your slick cunt through too much fabric.

“Ah, ahng, Hajime,” you whisper, cupping his face and pulling his close to melt your tongue to his. Licking into his mouth and sucking on the pink muscle until you go breathless, pulling back with your eyes glazed over. “Daddy tastes so good. Can I please have more?”

The pretty greens find yours, narrowing slightly. But you look so cute that he can’t fault you for your greediness. “Tastes good, yeah? Stupid puppy. Need a reminder of who you belong to?” You’re already unbuttoning your own top and letting it drop aside, your pointed nipples bare. He groans. “Fuck, I missed wrecking your cute, little body. Missed sucking those tits and fucking your tight cunt.”

You don’t really respond before his large hand comes to squeeze one breast, then the other, sucking your nipple with a soft tongue rolling over it again and again. Breath heavy and belly glowing as you lean into him. All while your hands rub over his biceps and pecs and down his stomach. Until you get to his pants, nimble fingers slipping under the waistband and down further, but he grabs your wrist hard.

“Nope.” He smiles when you tear up at the loss of his thick thigh rubbing against you, your little moans and whimpers being the thing that would get him off the quickest any time he had to fuck his own hand. But he still can’t go easy on you. “Get to begging like a good puppy, on your fucking knees,” he pushes your shoulder until your knees buckle and you drop down between his legs, glossy eyes aimed up at him and bottom lip jutting out. “Fuck- missed that pretty mouth of yours so much too,” he mumbles, rubbing his fingers over the seam of your lips but pulling away when you stick your tongue out.

You frown though, whimpering at the denial and wrapping your two little hands around his to yank the long digits back to your mouth, stuffing them inside your warm mouth yourself. Your tits shining with his spit in the low light, cheeks hot and already looking totally fucked. It never takes long when Hajime pulls your hair or bites your sensitive skin, slipping into the blissed, dazed state you’re in too easily.

You moan as you suckle on the thick, long fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and pushing his fingers deeper into the back of your mouth so quickly it probably hurts. You don’t mind though, not even when he pushes them down onto the back of your tongue to make you choke on them. His lips curl up at the ends when watching you, his cock growing even harder at your noises and the spit spilling past your lips and down your chin. “Gonna suck my fingers, good girl? Take it all the way into your throat and drool all over daddy’s hand?”

‘Mhm, mhm-ddy,’ your muffled calls soft and needy, gagging again when he grabs your face to stuff your face all the way with his two fingers. Your little throat is tighter than he remembers, though it could also be because of the tight, leather collar so pretty around your neck. When you stop struggling against the invasion of your throat, drool slipping all down his hand and your face each time he pulls back only to stuff them back in to hear you struggle, he grunts.

He finally pulls back out of your mouth to yank his pants down his thighs, along with his boxers, kicking them off. “Ah,” you instantly open your mouth again, dropping your tongue out for him like a good pet.

But instead of the cock you want to taste more than anything, he leans down a little to grab your throat and squeezes, spitting straight onto your tongue with no warning. The press of his fingers in the sides of your neck is enough to have your fingers twitch in your lap, wanting nothing more than your pussy filled while your head pounds. “Did you suck Makki and Mattsun’s cocks this easy too?” Iwa asks though, putting on a frown as he rubs your spit along the bottom of his cock. He swirls his wet fingers back up to the flushed tip though, wrapping around the head and squeezing more glistening precum out. “Hm?”

You’re quiet for a second when you regard him, eyes blown out and dark and mouth set in a tight line, the exact expression that both scares you and makes your pussy clench. “I- I just,” you sniffle, “you said it was okay to. Daddy, you promised— mh-that you wouldn’t be m-mad.” The smell makes you whimper more, rubbing your covered, slick pussy on your own foot as you fist your hands into your skirt, your big eyes blinking up at him so prettily.

“Not— mad,” he hisses when you reach up to cup his balls, whimpering and begging so pretty, “I know your little slutty cunt wouldn’t be able to go without being pumped full of cum so long. Just don’t like it.” His cock still growing and twitching in his hand, turning the glazed head a deep, dark red and twitching at the sight of you. He rubs the warm tip over your tongue for just a second before pulling back, only leaving you more needy.

“My little puppy slut needs cock and cum in here, huh?” He softly starts moving his hand up and down his shaft in front of you, and you can’t help the tears that cling to your lashes at the blatant temptation. You blink up at him with your best pout, leaning forward to arch your back. But he’s not done, pushing his cock to your cheek and rubbing it there while you whimper and whine at it, teary eyes flicking between his drooling cock and the sharp look on his face. “Can’t even go to sleep without having your tummy full and warm. Let daddy’s friends fuck that whore cunt, yeah? My greedy, bad puppy slut.”

The degradation paired with the wait is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut, sniffling for a few moments at the cruel treatment. But when he clears his throat again, brushing up the glazed head of his cock to your lips, making you taste the precum and finally letting you have a sliver of what you had to miss for so long your body aches. “Beg,” he growls, grabbing onto your hair and pulling your face back a little to look at you. “I know you can do it really well, so do it already. Be good, c’mon.”

You’re so blissed out even being near him again, that it’s hard to think straight. Let alone listen to what he needs you to do. The pounding between your ears is so loud. But before you can think about it you turn over to drop your face to the floor, grabbing onto your panties and getting on your knees how you know Hajime likes having you. Presenting yourself like a bitch in heat, face wet and sloppy and lips swollen.

It’s hardly begging, but you’re so far past begging by now. You want your gushing pussy filled now. Back curved and wet slit on display, you arch your back as you press your cheek to the cold wood. “Daddy, please. Please give me your cock, please use me. Punish me or breed me, I don’t care, just touch me please. Mhm -ah, need you, only daddy can make me feel so good, plea—se.”

You spread your legs apart more, and bring one arm under your body between your legs to spread the wetness around your hole and over your clit, hissing at the touch. “God, Hajime, hurry. I’ll cum without you if you don’t.”

Whatever trance you put him in is broken when you rub your clit without him, tearing up and just needing to get off so bad it’ll drive you crazy. But he’s quick to get behind you and grab onto one of the rings of your collar, pulling it tight and arching your back more as he delivers a sharp spank to each cheek. You cry out as you reach for him, but with a growl he evades your touch and spanks down again, leaving your needy cunt fluttering around nothing.

“Don’t fucking think so.” He spanks between each word, making your skin glow and tingle from the painful surges of pleasure, as you shift under him, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. “You cum when I say you can cum.” Luckily for you, he’s too impatient tonight to punish you as you deserve, getting up behind you and pushing the warm head of his cock against your drooling pussy, just as eager and needy as you are. “Take it like a good cumhungry bitch.”

He pushes in too quickly, pushing you forward with the sudden motion and filling you up entirely. His fat cock stretching you open so much you claw at the floor, even more when he pulls out and glides back inside the wet hole with a roll of his hips that hits just right. “Ah- ahh!” Your eyes press closed, body aching and everything hazy, Hajime sets a pace that’s just short of punishing. Hips drilling into yours with each fast, frantic pump, his skin slapping into you and pants and grunts filling the apartment. There’s no room for romance, not while he’s fucking into you and holding onto your neck like an animal.

Your whimpers and muffled begs of ‘daddy’ are interrupted by slurred moans and swears as he changes positions a little to fuck you even harder, deeper and battering your insides relentlessly. None of that matters when he leans over your body onto his strong arms, caging you in even more and not slowing the speed at which he destroys you, only to bite at the side of your neck with a growl. “My cockslut. No one else can do it like me. Don’t forget it.”

“Daddy!” you squeak, squirming at the pleasure. “Hmm-ngh, wan’cum!” Hajime looks between your bodies to watch the ring of white at the base of his cock, your entire body shaking from the strain, before he pushes himself back up to let go of your collar and grab onto your hips instead, pulling you back into his thrusts and making you bounce. Each motion is too deep, too good, nothing that enters your brain is comprehensible anymore. There’s only Hajime fucking you, and the beautiful way you know he looks while fucking you stupid.

“Gonna fuck my cum into you,” he rasps, throwing his head back, “gon’ give you my babies. Over and over and over.” His fingers in your skin painfully tight, skin slamming against yours and balls against your clit, and you reach your arms back to grab onto his thighs. “Until you’re so full with cum your belly hurts.”

“Yes, yesyesyes— hng, da- ahng- daddy, fuck your cum into me please,” he grabs onto your hair to pull you back onto his thick cock even more, lifting your thigh for more access, before your belly tightens and your vision goes white. Your toes curl as you clench around him, squeezing his cock deeper inside you as you cry out his name, gasping for air and shaking.

Hajime blows out a growled cry through his teeth as his thrusts go bruising and sloppy. “Fuckin’ vice, ah! H-holy shit, puppy.” He cums deep inside your spasming cunt, hot, white ropes of seed pumped into you. You collapse when your legs give out, having Hajime on top of you with deep, almost frantic breaths and his fingertips still pushing white ovals into the skin to keep himself up, before slowly pulls out of you to scoop you up from the floor. “Good girl,” he kisses your face, along your neck as you try to calm your raging heart, “such a good girl. You took that so well, pup.”

“Thank you, daddy,” you breathe back, and cling to his sweaty chest for a moment, feeling both your heart beats too loud. Hajime smiles, his cheeks flushed and hairline beaded with sweat but to you, though your puffy eyes and wet lashes, he’s never looked more beautiful. He leans over to grab his bag, digging though it for some water.

“Here, drink up.” His large, heavy palm coming to rest on your head with slow motions, he stares at you too. Then he dips his head again to kiss your nose, squeezing you even closer to his heart. “Missed you so much. You belong to me, hm?” You nod.

And after a few sips of water, you rub away some of the drying tears, before pouting up at him. “Can we go again?” Which makes Hajime snort, his face splitting with a wide grin as he bobs his head.

“Yeah, we can go as many times as you want.”

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itsblissfuloblivion · 4 years

Text

Torch - Chapter 11: July

you asked for it, we give it to you, don’t be mad...

Ao3//FFnet

Harry thought he’d been through quite a series of unfortunate events throughout his relatively short life, some that’ve left him feeling embarrassed and in need to crawl into a hole and possibly die, and others that have left him a heartbeat away from turning rogue and going after Voldemort guns ablazing. But this, Harry comes to accept, is the worst so far.

Not only did six other people suddenly become acquainted with his most...intimate parts, but two of them happened to be Fred and George. Judging by the grins they’re both sporting, Harry’s in for a hellish summer - or however long he’d be spending at the Burrow before jumping recklessly into what probably will be his death.

Later, when the firewhiskey’s numbed his heart, when he’s too tired and tipsy to scream at everyone and claw at himself to grip the pain and throw it out, Harry lets the images of Hedwig and Mad-Eye wash over him like muddy waters clashing against the shore. The two first soldiers of the war - and Harry wonders how many more there’ll be until a skinny, averagely skilled, not-special almost seventeen year old serves justice and catches the bad guy for good.

A bitter laugh rolls down his throat and Harry shakes his head in self-loath, marveling at how impossibly stupid everyone has to be to put all their trust in him.

Harry starts as he feels a small hand on his shoulder - Ginny’s. As she’d done earlier, instead of saying something or asking him what’s wrong, Ginny takes his hand as she sits down next to him on the front steps. And, like earlier, her touch has a calming effect on him, steering his thoughts away from self-destruction and towards the blissful, golden days they’ve spent together.

But most of all he remembers her as she’d been on their last shared moment, her sad eyes and her bare chest, giving herself entirely to him. And just like then, his heart battles his mind, takes it to a savage war where what he wants to do and what he must do almost blend in, blurred around the edges.

He remembers her standing before him, waiting for him to touch, to feel, to melt into her and he remembers that he couldn’t do it then. He can’t do it now either.

It’s as if Ginny reads his mind because she squeezes his hand tighter and, looking bravely into his eyes as her bottom lip quivers, she says, “You know, I’d really wanted...that to happen then.”

Harry’s breath catches and he nearly crashes his lips to hers, nearly loves her right there, on her parents’ front porch. But instead he mumbles, his voice too shallow to meet the unwavering courage etched in hers, “Ginny, I - ah. Please know that putting an end to this,” he gestures between the two of them, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows, “is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“An end?” Ginny lifts her brow, her brown eyes blazing.

“Yes. It’s how it has to be,” Harry retorts, his voice a little higher and he immediately hates himself for it.

“Why?”

“Because it must. Because you’re not safe if you’re with me. Because I couldn’t live knowing that they’ve hurt you because of me.”

Although he’s careful to keep his voice low, the words erupt like barks from his mouth, clipped and loaded with ill concealed anger. And when she starts protesting that she doesn’t care for her life, that she can take care of herself, Harry loses his mind for a moment and his vision darkens suddenly, he’s out of breath.

He’s astonished to discover that he’d gripped her shoulders sharply and had probably shaken her, the anger boiling in his chest taking over his actions. Ginny stares back at him for a moment, pained and shocked, then smashes her mouth onto his with such force it hurts them both. Harry’s arms immediately let go of her, falling limply at his sides.

She ends the kiss just as quickly and shoots him a look that Harry can’t entirely describe - a little wounded, a little cross, and most of all a steel resolve that sends him into a panicked frenzy because he doesn’t know if she’ll run after him, or fight her own battle or, the most terrifying of them all...if she’ll just forget him.

Ginny smacks the door behind her before he can get a chance to apologise for being a crass prick or ask her what she’d just decided. Sighing deeply, Harry admits he really does deserve the door smacking. Why did he ever think that this, whatever this was, could’ve possibly been better than admitting that he loves her, so much that he feels a big part of him is missing when she’s not there, so much that his heart is broken beyond repair.

Because he’s a stupid prat with a hero complex, that’s why.

“What’s with the face, Medium Sized?” Fred grins at him when Harry finally drags his feet back inside.

Harry simply flips him and starts climbing the stairs all the way to Ron’s room. He’s fairly certain there’ll be enough other occasions for Fred and George to take the mickey out of him on accounts of his physique, but today he’s just not up to it.

An unsettling thought crosses his mind before he drifts to what he has no doubt would be an unrestful sleep: being split into seven, even if by means of Polyjuice, appears to him not so different than what Voldermort’s attempted to do. It’s truly a thought that weighs tangibly on the self-hate load for many reasons, but most of all it’s the fact that Harry keeps finding similarities between him and Riddle every time he stops to think about it. And that makes him retch right there, near the camp bed he’d been sleeping on summer after summer since someone had seen enough good in him to have him rescued from the Dursleys - and, quite truthfully, from himself.

Somehow there’s not much opportunity for wallowing when he wakes up as Mrs Weasley seems to have devised the cleaning schedule from hell to keep them occupied and leave no room for mysterious plots to be cooked up between Ron, Hermione and himself. And honestly? Harry’s a little grateful for that.

The blazing sun overhead casts an orange glow behind Harry’s eyelids at the end of the day, warms the metal rims of his glasses where they press against his flushed cheeks. For a minute, while Ron and Ginny’s mingled laughter still colors the air and Harry’s breaths are still calming, it’s almost like he’s got a normal life again. Like the world isn’t silently waiting for him to take out a maniac they haven’t managed in two decades.

And for a minute, maybe more, Harry thinks he can let himself have it and forget about yesterday, forget about all the bad days he’d ever had. He’s already given up so much, is preparing to give up more when he heads out alone to finish what Dumbledore started, he lets himself be selfish. Only a little longer.

“Alright over there, old man?” Ginny’s voice calls out.

Harry cracks one eye open and finds Ginny smirking at him, hair wild around her face, braid half undone. “I’m just a year older.”

“A year is a long time,” Ginny shrugs and winks, “Grandpa.”

“Whatever happened to respecting your elders, then?”

Hermione returns from the house with lemonade in hand and a smile on her lips, “Are we back to this again?”

“Yes. Harry is an old man and I proved it by totally kicking his bum three games in a row.”

Harry pushes up onto his elbows and blinks slowly. “First, you’re a trained Chaser and I’m not. Second, Hermione was my Keeper. And we all know what that means.”

“Don’t be mean,” Ron puts in as he gulps at his lemonade, stray droplets falling over his cheeks. Hermione gives him an approving nod and that probably genetic Weasley smirk slides across Ron’s face, “Hermione can’t help being allergic to the Quaffle.”

“Oh bugger off, Ronald,” Hermione grunts, kicking Ron’s thigh as she claims a place in the grass.

Comfortable quiet falls over them, the trees in the grove swaying with the wind as it carries the scent of wildflowers over the yard. With the sweet tang of lemonade on his tongue, Harry truly feels a sense of relaxation, of contentment that people tend to associate with summer. It’s borrowed time he can't bring himself to give up.

As if Ginny can read his mind, as if she knows his overthinking, overworked mind is settling on its usual dark track, she nudges his side with the toe of her trainer. “So all I’ve heard so far is a lot of excuses, and I’m nothing if not an excuse eliminator.”

“That’s one thing to call it,” Ron snorts.

“Anyway,” Ginny says with a roll of her eyes, “How about we have a go with the Snitch. Although we’ve seen I’m no slouch as a Seeker either.”

Her eyes catch his and he knows they’re both thrown back to that day, the sunlit weeks that followed, the stolen time. And her smile is a little dimmed when she stands and offers him a hand up, “Let’s put you to the test, eh?”

It’s like she wants him to know she’s momentarily forgot about the day before too, about his words and about her pleas.

So Harry accepts the hand up and ignores Hermione’s pointed stare and mumbles about ‘idiots with self destructive tendencies.’ He has a sudden death challenge to win after all.

The Snitch is for practice, and probably older than any of the foursome, but it does the job. It’s a bit sluggish taking turns, so there’s an advantage to catching it there, but the old thing has no trouble darting off and hiding before Hermione’s finished her last eye roll aimed at Harry.

Ginny doesn’t need to take her eyes off the horizon for the trash talk to begin, mostly the usual shots at his age and eyesight. Ron likes a good gangly something thrown in there, but Ginny’s never been one for poking fun at Harry’s physique. In fact, she seemed to like it well enough - before Harry’s life kicked in with its usual ‘pull the rug out’ disappointing development.

They circle in the air for who knows how long and Harry gives as good as he gets, asking things like whether Ginny can find balls smaller than six inches wide. But when he mentions ‘balls’ Ginny gives him a dangerous look he knows means something scandalous is about to leave her lips - until they light in victory.

He twists quickly and finds the Snitch bobbing in the air, as if it’s about to flit over for a visit with Luna and her dirigible plums.

Though Ginny spotted the Snitch first, Harry’s definitely a few paces closer and he’s fast on the uptake so they’re basically neck in neck, screaming toward the little ball.

Ginny nudges his shoulder a bit with hers, no cobbing, but her set jaw and cheeky grin are just as dangerous. Harry’s so caught up he can barely hear Ron and Hermione’s shouts from below - who they’re rooting for is undetermined - all he knows is the push of the air against his ears, the pounding blood in his veins, and Ginny flying at his side like a comet.

At the last second, she lowers herself just a bit closer to the broom and slips past him so her fist closes around the Snitch. So last second in fact, that his hand closes on top of hers. He can’t seem to release his grip and Ginny doesn’t pull away, even as the wings flutter against their palms. “Gotcha, Potter. No flashy mouth tricks - just quality play.”

Her whiskey eyes find his and if he thought his heart pounded uncontrollably before, now it may as well be beating out of his chest. His thumb brushes over top of hers and it feels like all his insides are in his throat as he murmurs, “Nice catch.”

“I don’t know another kind.”

Somehow, his grip slides to her wrist and she’s released the Snitch to feebly fly over the swaying grasses. Then her hand is around his forearm and they’re breaths apart. “Ginny - ”

Whatever he was going to say, it’s now lost to the summer air as Ron’s voice sounds from below, beckoning them inside.

They spend the little time left of July planning and preparing for the moment they’ll have to leave everything behind, which, to Harry, is in a way exactly what he needs simply because it doesn’t offer much room to interact with Ginny. It’s odd how seeing her now makes his heart leap with happiness and then immediately twist with sadness and guilt.

Even though it’s hard not to catch her eye at dinner, especially when the table’s too packed with people, close members from the Order, and no one can notice. Or when little Gabrielle Delacour arrives with her parents and turns her Veela charm on Harry; the small display of jealousy from Ginny revives the old monster nestled in his chest, gives Harry an extra spring in his step for the rest of the day. She cares enough to show the rest of the world he’s off limits. Only Ron’s withering look wipes the stupid grin plastered on his face.

“Should I be fighting off smitten women having a go at you or is this a girlfriend only task?”

Harry stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder. He sees Ginny, her hair messily twisted in a bun at the top of her head, leaning against the doorframe of her room and staring after him intently. He also notices the puffiness around her eyes that makes the dark rings under them more evident. His insides churn painfully.

“I don’t think women have ever been smitten when it comes to me. I rather tend to attract the usual love potion spiked chocolates kind of people,” Harry shrugs as he fully turns around to face her, one hand gripping at the railing. He feels as though he needs to tether himself to something or else he might just run to her and take her in his arms and kiss her tired eyes till she’s sound asleep and safely pressed against his chest.

Ginny lets out a dejected chuckle, “Clearly you’re not at all familiar with Hogwarts bathroom talk.”

“Oh?”

“But it’s somehow so typical of you to be oblivious of your charms,” Ginny shrugs and Harry forgets himself enough to let a smile stretch onto his face.

“My charms?”

“I believe tall, dark and handsome were uttered here and there,” she smiles a bit as her eyes lock with his and instantly a series of intimate moments they’ve shared passes before his eyes. “But they’re all wrong.”

“They are?” Harry parrots stupidly, heat spreading all over his chest, his face, to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah,” Ginny nods and covers one arm with the palm of her other, brushes it from her shoulder to her elbow as her lips slightly quiver. “It’s actually your eyes. Good night, Harry.”

And just like that she twirls on her heels and closes the door right after her. Harry can hear the springs of the mattress lamenting faintly and tries with all his might not to imagine her crushed on her bed, crying.

He doesn’t even realise it’s his birthday until the sun shakes him out of the poor sleep he’d managed to get once his mind got too tired of playing thousands of different versions of how he might die, how we might bring sorrow and death upon others, all peppered with instances of Ginny crying.

Huh, at least now he can do magic without being traced. Cheers to surviving this long and successfully eliminating the option of rotting in Azkaban every time he feels like actually being a wizard.

Harry gets to enjoy a bit of lightheartedness and bask in other people’s relationship problems when Ron gifts him a book essentially on how to pick up women and not long after Hermione publicly announces she’s about to pack Ron’s pants as soon as they get out of the washer. Unfortunately, he can’t share neither of those moments with Ginny as she’s not there…

Soon enough he locates her when she calls him to her room and Harry steps inside aware of his faint trembling. He comments on the view from her windows and she ignores him, like she should. Who’s invited into their former girlfriend’s bedroom and steers the conversation towards scenery?

A bloody idiot, that’s who.

She mentions Veelas again and his head starts spinning as Ginny looks at him with that blazing look on her face and it’s then when he knows it’s simply become impossible for him to step back. Harry kisses her as fiercely as she’s kissing him, ready to go where he’d previously forbidden himself to go with her, no longer able to control his mind, his body, its reactions to her. Harry’s ready to give himself away completely.

But before the thought of locking the door can cross his mind, before he can take this any further, the door bangs open and they break apart. Lust turns to anger and anger turns to guilt in Harry’s mind as he promises Ron he’s done, he’ll stay away, he’ll will himself to stop. He can’t keep doing this to her, he must never do it again.

An image of Ginny happily in love with another man invades his mind for the rest of the day, obsessing him, torturing him, the faceless man telling him nonchalantly that ‘you’ve lost her, mate’ as the two of them kiss deeply and turn their backs to Harry. They’d never could’ve had a future anyway...

#itsblissfuloblivion #itsblissfulbolivion writes #itsblissfuloblivion writes torch #harry potter #Harry Potter x ginny weasley #ginny weasley #Hermione granger #ron weasley #torch July chapter #canon compliant #hbp missing moments #hurts so good eh?#fightfortherightsofhouseelves #gryffindormischief

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dolce-peach · 4 years

Note

Hii! Could you do like a Loki X reader avenger that has like angel like powers that would be interesting! Btw I love your fics hope you're safe out there have a nice day :))

with you

pairing: loki x avenger!reader

warnings: slight violence, blood, loki being an absolute lil bean at times

a/n: tysm anon! i got excited for this one, cuz i’m a sucker for anything fantasy :) also i put loki on the team because i believe that’s beautiful *wipes eyes* hope you guys like it!

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

You were grooming your large white wings, sitting on the edge of the Avengers Tower. You relished the cool breeze circling your legs as they dangled over the side of the building. Some pedestrians recognized you from down below and waved, and you smiled and waved back with a wing.

Life as an Avenger was strange but good. Though you did appreciate them, you just couldn’t get used to the way humans went about their days. They were odd yet endearing creatures.

When they asked you to be part of their team, you couldn’t refuse their cause to protect the world.

“Avengers, please report to Hangar 1,” JARVIS’ voice echoed through the comms.

Without hesitation, you folded your wings comfortably and made your way downstairs until you arrived at the hangar, where everyone was waiting.

You naturally gravitated towards Loki, who was surveying the scene before him.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Not the slightest idea,” he said. “Something about Hydra, I assume.”

You frowned.

As far as you knew, Tony and Steve had been tracking down numerous Hydra forts looking for the stolen sceptre Loki wielded once before. He had since then broken away from the effects, but you knew it still haunted him.

“What’s the situation, Tony?” Steve asked as he came forward.

“JARVIS picked something up over in Sokovia. I think we should check it out,” Tony explained. He brought up a hologram of a fort. “It’s small and abandoned.”

“Which would make it easy for them to hide more numbers underground,” Natasha concluded.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “C-can they do that?”

“We must be prepared for whatever they throw our way,” Thor said. “If that means to fight fire with fire, then we’ll do so.”

Clint shrugged. “Seems sketchy, but this is the first lead we’ve had in a few weeks.”

Steve nodded. “We’ll have two parties. Y/N and Loki can sneak inside and look for the sceptre while the rest of us take them on from outside,” he directed. “If they find it, then by the time they get out and get back to us, we’ll already be long gone before Hydra can do anything.”

“You heard the captain,” Tony said, quirking an eyebrow. “Let’s move, people.”

You followed everyone onto the Quinjet when Loki grabbed hold of your wrist. You turned to face him, seeing the concern in his eyes.

“Loki?”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said.

“Why not? I have you.”

He sighed. “Yes, but if we manage to find the sceptre, what if i turn against you?” He looked away. “What if I can’t save you?”

You laughed. “I’m an angel, dear. I don’t need saving.” You brushed his hair back gently. “And you won’t turn. I won’t let you, I promise.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling softly. “Okay.”

“Come on, Rock of Ages,” Tony called. “Waiting on you!”

Loki chuckled, rolling his eyes. “You’re lucky I quietly deal with your antics, Stark.”

You pat his shoulder before getting yourself situated. “Just let it go,” you teased.

You flew stealthily through the trees, carrying Loki as you went. Gunshots and canon fire echoed in the distance, signaling that the Hydra soldiers were distracted by the rest of the Avengers.

Once you were close to the back entrance, you set Loki down and ran alongside him, meeting a few soldiers head on.

You swung your arm out in front of you, flashing a blinding light that made the soldiers collapse. You twirled around and blew down the door with one powerful gust from your wings.

“You know, I could’ve handled that,” Loki said as he followed you through the door.

“I know,” you explained. “But we don’t have much time.”

“I know,” he said quietly with a smirk as the two of you continued down the dark hallway.

Most of the soldiers had cleared out, either evacuating or going out to assist against the rest of the Avengers. The lucky few you encountered either instantly fainted upon looking into your golden eyes, or screamed in horror at the illusions Loki cast.

At last, you made it to a secret passageway that deviated far from the original hallway. Your wings shivered from the chilled air that swept through the narrow tunnel.

Your breath was a cloud that barely escaped your lips as you were nearly knocked from your feet by a blur.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Loki draw his daggers as he wrestled with a young teenage boy with silver hair.

Before you could go and help, your vision grew red before settling. You turned to see a girl retreating to the shadows, her irises an extreme crimson. Confusion took a hold of you as old memories clouded your eyes, but you were still able to fight through it and pin her against the stone wall.

“It didn’t work,” she breathed, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” you questioned.

You tightened your grip around her arms, feeling an intense fire rise to your fingertips. The girl cried out.

“Let me go!” she hissed.

“Answer my question,” you said calmly, raising your other flaming hand. “I may be an angel, but I can be the devil if I want to.”

Before you could inflict any more harm, she disappeared in a blur.

You turned to see Loki wiping his bleeding lip, his daggers dissolving within his long fingers. You rushed over, running your fingers along his lip.

He chuckled. “I’m fine.”

Your eyes were filled with concern. “Who were they?” you asked as you began to heal him.

“I’m not sure, but they were young,” he said. “Maybe enhanced.”

Your fingertips gave off a soft golden glow, sealing the cut back together. He touched his lip when you were finished, a small smile of gratitude appearing.

“Let’s get the sceptre and get out of here,” you said.

“Great plan.”

The said sceptre lay in the middle of the room under a large Chitauri Leviathan. Other broken parts of the Chitauri soldiers lay around on various tables, making the room smell strongly of burnt flesh.

Loki cautiously took the sceptre in his hands, shakily breathing out as he touched the gold staff.

You touched his shoulder. “You okay?”

He sighed, which was enough for you. “Let’s get back.”

“Captain, we have the sceptre,” you said in your earpiece as the two of you walked back through the tunnel.

“Good. We’re by the edge of the forest.”

“Copy that.”

You were suffocating before the two of you emerged out in the snowy forest, the fresh cold air filling your chest.

And without a warning, your knees buckled.

Y/N!

You watched drops of blood fall onto the white snow beneath your feet. They fell one by one, staining the pure white until a pool was created around you.

Shaking, you lifted your gaze up to see someone aiming a bow and arrow at you. His face was blurred and dark in the red fire of the forest.

A shot rang through the air, and moments later, the arrow dug itself into your stomach.

You fell to your knees, feeling the one thing you were promised you wouldn’t feel. Pain blossomed from the wound, making you double over.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes shot open, staring directly into Loki’s.

Breathe! your mind screamed.

Your eyes darted around, trying to grasp where you were.

“It’s okay! You’re safe,” he said. “You’re at home.”

“Home,” you murmured. After a few deep breaths, you closed your eyes. “What happened?”

“The enhanced we ran into...”

“What about them?”

“We think one of them might have affected you,” he explained.

You shook your head. “That’s impossible.”

“They got their powers from the sceptre,” he said. “Who’s to say they can’t knock an angel or a god off their feet?”

You sighed, covering your face in your hands. You could almost still feel the snow against your skin.

“That vision you had,” Loki began. “Who was that?”

“A fallen angel. A comrade I tried to save,” you replied. You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t look into my head anymore.”

“I needed to know if you were alright,” he said. “If you died, I’d be beside myself.”

You pursed your lips. “I’m fine,” you said. “Just shaken, that’s all.” You laughed bitterly. “I thought I forgot it all, but I guess no matter how long you live, you’ll always remember something like that.”

Loki nodded. “I know what you mean.”

You took one long look at the god and smiled sadly. “Yes, you do.”

He brushed his black locks back. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve sensed them coming.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Truly, it’s okay. It’s a good thing we were prepared anyways, otherwise, we would’ve had a hard time making it out.”

He chuckled. “True, but nothing’s impossible for this god,” he said as he pointed to himself.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, making Loki grin from ear to ear. Hearing your laugh was enough to cure all the sicknesses in the world and ban darkness to the edges of the galaxy.

It was a sound that vividly spelled, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

And it was.

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Atlas: Space, Sun

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 1/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album.

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

As far as warnings go, some language, terrible writing, and just general awkwardness because I love it. Warnings will be chapter by chapter basis.

Chapter 1: Sun

Summary: Tony begs Rebecca to come with the team on mission and Loki is a surprisingly thoughtful mission companion.

“For the sake of all of us, I need you to suit up.”

That was the climax of her morning, she would say. Or, at least, the turning point of her day… her life… and the reason why she, a weapons development technician with bare minimum battle training ended up, smack dab in the middle of a firefight.

With golden string

Our universe was clothed in light

Pulling at the seams

Our once barren world now brims with life

It was a morning same as any other. The weapons lab was calm and quiet, save for the white noise hum of robots moving and instrumentation chugging along without supervision. Crisp, white sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, negating the need for any of the harsh fluorescents overhead to be turned on. This was how she had fallen in love with the lab–in the early hours before anyone turned on the tinting of the windows and blasted Black Sabbath for no reason other than to drown their own thoughts. Essentially, any time before Tony started his insane experiments was wonderful and full of meditative peace.

Despite the fact that it was only seven in the morning, Rebecca Brun had already put in four hours of work. One of the side-effects of working in Stark industries was that she often forgot what hours normal people usually kept. A lot of missions were at night, and she needed to be awake to outfit the team before it was time for wheel’s up on the Quinjet. More recently, her shift in schedule was mostly attributed to Loki’s inability to maintain normal hours, as well. And he dared say he had nothing in common with Tony. You know, besides the fact that the two of them had somehow roped her into friendship (though in Loki’s case, she would admit it was her fault).

Her zen moment of peace was about to be shattered as she watched her boss stride into the lab. Tony looked pensive, which was never a good sign. Their conversation had been a blur–something about needing a technician on hand to sustain any on-field repairs and how that would ensure that they could bring everyone home alive. Another comment about her being the very best, second only to himself. More importantly, there was the voice in her head that spoke of purpose. She always knew her work made a difference, but she would have never dreamed that she could make a difference. She could be a hero in her own right. She could keep them safe.

“Fine. I’m in.”

–

I guess space and time

takes violent things, angry things

and makes them kind.

Loki watched from the shadows as Stark rounded up everyone who was to go on mission that day. There were nearly two dozen, in total, between heroes and agents. And Becca. Who was shaking like a leaf in her tactical gear, matching the rest of the crew. The gear suited her, he thought wryly, gaze skimming the curves of her hips and thighs as she shifted her weight from one leg to another. He then felt a little disappointed in himself, scolding his primitive thoughts when his friend was in clear distress. He hated admitting it, but he was fond of the mortal. She was clever, quiet, and quick-witted–all things he… liked? Admired? Suffice to say, he didn’t wish her dead.

He moved like death, silent and furtive, until he sidled up to her. She didn’t seem surprised when she glanced up and gave him a smile that looked a little closer to a wince. He returned a small one of his own before fidgeting with his armor. Becca made a noise like a whine and with a chuckle, he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave a quick squeeze. He meant to reassure her, but his brain also whispered guiltily that it was giving him an excuse for contact. They were firmly just friends, but every now and then the baser part of his brain longed for a lingering touch or, heavens forbid, a hug.

“We are the dust of dust”

“We are the apple of God’s eye”

“We are infinite as the Universe we hold inside”

“Folks, listen,” Stark started, standing on a box of ammunition to look over the crowd. “This is the big one and I’m sure that your team leaders have driven home the importance of getting in, doing our job, and getting out. I know that for some of you, this is your first mission. Others don’t even want to be here. I appreciate all of you coming aboard, anyway. Because, whether we like it or not, we are the only thing between the world and those who intend to destroy it. You’re all heroes. Let’s go show them who they’re dealing with.”

Becca squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quell the feeling of nausea rising through her. They had gotten into the jet and were flying to some undisclosed location where bullets were already flying, courtesy of the advanced guard. She had fitted everyone in their armor and left instructions on how and when to double back for assistance. One of the agents had then offered her the handle of a gun and more than a handful of cartridges of bullets before exiting the Quinjet and into a very noisy battlefield. It was then that she realized she would be on her own from there on out. That didn’t sit in her stomach very well, either.

“Hey.” Becca looked up rather anxiously. Loki was stood in full armor, golden horns and all. He looked just south of fidgety and was eager to jump into the fray. The only reason he deigned to stop and check in was the annoying sinking feeling he got when he noticed her take the clip out of her gun and count bullets for a sixth time in as many minutes. “Well, you’ve taken to battle rather well,” he teased, nudging her foot with his.

“Shut it or I’ll throw up on you,” she groused, and the green tinge in her complexion assured him of the truth behind her words.

He laughed boisterously, though there seemed to be no malice in his actions. “Midgardians, scared of a little fight. Precious, really.”

“What part of I’ll throw up on you did you not understand?” Her voice sounded rough, as if she really was fighting the bile from rising up her throat.

“You’re going to be fine.” Loki laughed again, a little less effusively. For a second he hesitated in his movement, before his resolve steeled, reaching up and tugging on a golden horn to slide the helmet from his head. “If I remember correctly, you’re well-acquainted with these. How about you keep them until I circle back, hmm?” They were placed on her head before she had even had time to argue, feeling snug and secure. Long fingers felt cool against her flushed skin as he lifted her chin to look at him. “There. Fit to be a shield maiden.” The heat in her cheeks only intensified. “Stay in the jet. And if you need to barricade the doors, regardless of what side of them we happen to be on, do it.” He stared her down until she nodded.

Before he disappeared out the hold doors, he turned his head and winked at her over his shoulder. Oddly enough, it settled her stomach to see his cocky confidence.

The one thing Becca was not prepared for, ironically, was the wait.

The jet had been empty for several hours and only Bucky had come to get some gravel out of the hydraulic gaps of his metal arm. The rest of the time, she spied outside the one-way glass at the battle ahead. It was a terrible hobby to have when you knew half of the players, but it was like watching a train wreck. You know you shouldn’t watch, but…

A flash of red caught her eye, at once. Peter had just been flung aside by some Hydra agent in a bulky exosuit. In a flash of green, Loki cut in and deliver a blow to protect the kid. Loki would never admit it aloud, but he had a soft spot for the teenager–partly because he was a child, mostly because he would bring Loki chocolate chip cookies every time he went to see him. Regardless of the reason, the maneuver had ended with Loki becoming the new favorite target of all the Hydra personnel around the pair.

She shouldn’t have watched the fight.

And she certainly shouldn’t have opened the hold doors and run straight into its center.

Becca had the advantage that she was swift on her feet from years of track and field. She could outrun nearly everyone, except for Steve and sometimes Bucky. And being a hurdler, she could clear obstacles in her path as easily as breathing. Instantly, the sound of gunfire made her regret leaving her safe, warm little workstation on the jet. It certainly was a bad place to contemplate her mortality, and a stranger place still to pray for the very first time.

Let there be light, let there be light, let me be alright.

With shaky hands, she lifted her pistol and took aim. Tony made everyone take basic gun training and get certified at the gun range–this wasn’t a new experience for her. Having buildings shudder and rumble, screams fill the air, and explosions happen less than thirty meters off–that was a new experience. And it made it a hell of a lot harder to aim at areas that were not covered by a bulletproof vest or part of her friend.

Loki started as the body trying to wrestle him down shuddered and slumped to the floor. He turned round in a neat circle and glared. “I told you to stay in the jet!”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve circled back earlier, then!” She screamed back, flinching her eyes closed with every thundering bullet leaving her gun.

“Tell me you’re not closing your eyes every time you shoot!” He had closed the distance between them and had joined his back to hers.

“Fine. I won’t tell you.”

“You could’ve shot me in the head!”

“You should have taken your damn helmet, then!” Her voice was near a shriek, another three bullets ringing through the air before she realized she had to change the clip.

Except she forgot them.

On the jet.

Did she mention she had no real battle experience?

“Loki,” her voice trembled, barely audible over the scuffle even to her own ears, “do you have bullets on you?”

He snorted. “Do I look like I have a gun, Rebecca?” He glanced over his shoulder at her and did a double-take before the information clicked. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t!” She didn’t answer, instead drawing a knife sheathed in a strap on her thigh and holding it in front of her. It shuddered in time with the tremors in her hand. She couldn’t stay here and she couldn’t make it back on her own. And for some reason, after over a millenium, his conscience decided this was the day to make an appearance. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He growled. “If I die getting you back to safety, I’m going to be so damn cross!”

Before she could offer a retort, he grabbed the back of her suit, pulling her away from incoming threats. Every now and again, they’d stop, fight hand to hand, or rather, Loki fought while constantly pushing her behind him. Becca felt like a ragdoll, though she never thought she was being flung carelessly or without any sort of poise. It was a carefully calculated and perfectly executed dance of which she was a participant with no say on the steps.

The Quinjet doors were just a few meters away. They were almost there. Another three Hydra agents had closed in on them, trying to cut off their escape. The next minute was hazy in her mind. She could remember, as clearly as if she were seeing it right then, as a gun barrel aimed for her head and the rumble of gunpowder deafened her a second later. And then there was darkness.

With golden string

Our universe was brought to life

That we may fall in love

Every time we open up our eyes

“Becca.” The voice was soft, as were the thumbs brushing her cheekbones, though the pounding in her head was certainly not. She blinked her eyes open to find two blue orbs of concern watching her. “Oh, thank the gods. You’re alright.”

“My head is killing me.” She winced at the echo of her own voice.

“Yeah. A bullet to the skull will do that,” he said, smirking. He had yet to let her head go.

They were on the floor of the jet, and he was on his knees. Beside him, his horns sat with a splotch of blood marring the very edge of the face opening and the metal bent slightly out of shape.

“You’re lucky I left you my helm. Not so much for the man who shot you. The ricochet was nasty.”

“The ricochet killed him?” She frowned, trying to think of the physics that would make such a thing possible.

“No, I killed him. The ricochet left him blind in the left eye, though,” he retorted matter-of-factly, smiling. He finally let go and sat back on his heels, his fingers came away red, but a cursory check with her own showed the blood was not hers. The thought did not reassure her. “I should go back, keep the Spiderboy out of trouble.” He stood and cracked his neck, squaring his shoulders to prepare himself for more gore. “Are you OK?”

She nodded. “I’m OK. I’ll just stay put.”

He snorted. “I doubt that. At least I already stuffed all the bullets I could find into your pockets. Don’t need a repeat of this fiasco.” He stepped lightly to the hold doors, as he had done earlier. This time, he turned around completely, walking backwards out of the open doors. “Maybe keep the helmet on, for now, and try not to get shot in the head again."

For a long moment she looked between the cushioned seats and the hold doors, deciding the best course of action–back to her work table, safe, or…

Just beyond the doors, Loki sunk a dagger into the stomach of a HYDRA agent and kicked them back. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced back at jet and smirked, turning away only to dodge a punch. Becca took a swig of water, grabbed her gun, and ran back into the fire just as the horns settled onto her skull. Loki gave her a knowing smile before pressing his back to hers and finishing their mission.

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 1/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album. https://imagine-loki.tumblr.com/post/623647803992899584/imagine-narrating-episodes-of-lokis-life-with-the

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for but my brain insists.

As far as warnings go, some language, terrible writing, and just general awkwardness because I love it. Warnings will be chapter by chapter basis.

Chapter 1: Sun

Summary: Tony begs Rebecca to come with the team on mission and Loki is a surprisingly thoughtful mission companion.

"For the sake of all of us, I need you to suit up.”

With golden string

Our universe was clothed in light

Pulling at the seams

Our once barren world now brims with life

“Fine. I’m in.”

–

I guess space and time

takes violent things, angry things

and makes them kind.

“We are the dust of dust”

“We are the apple of God’s eye”

“We are infinite as the Universe we hold inside”

“Folks, listen,” Stark started, standing on a box of ammunition to look over the crowd. “This is the big one and I’m sure that your team leaders have driven home the importance of getting in, doing our job, and getting out. I know that for some of you, this is your first mission. Others don’t even want to be here. I appreciate all of you coming aboard. Because, whether we like it or not, we are the only thing between the world and those who intend to destroy it. Let’s go show them who they’re dealing with.”

Becca squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quell the feeling of nausea rising through her. They had gotten into the jet and were flying to some undisclosed location. She had fitted everyone in their armor and left instructions on how and when to double back for assistance. One of the agents had then offered her the handle of a gun and more than a handful of cartridges of bullets before exiting the Quinjet and into a very noisy battlefield. It was then that she realized she would be on her own from there on out.

“Hey.” Becca looked up rather anxiously. Loki was stood in full armor, golden horns and all. He looked just south of fidgety and was eager to jump into the fray. Still, he made it a point to stop and check in when he noticed her take the clip out of her gun and count bullets for a sixth time. “Well, you’ve taken to battle rather well,” he teased, nudging her foot with his.

“Shut it or I’ll throw up on you,” she groused, and the green tinge in her complexion assured him of the truth behind her words.

He laughed boisterously, though there seemed to be no malice in his actions. “Midgardians, scared of a little fight. Precious, really.”

“What part of I’ll throw up on you did you not understand?” Her voice sounded rough, as if she really was fighting the bile from rising up her throat.

“You’re going to be fine.” Loki laughed again, a little less effusively. For a second he hesitated in his movement, before his resolve steeled, reaching up and tugging on a golden horn to slide the helmet from his head. “If I remember correctly, you’re well-acquainted with these. How about you keep them until I circle back, hmm?” They were placed on her head before she had even had time to argue, feeling snug and secure. Long fingers felt cool against her flushed skin as he lifted her chin to look at him. “There. Fit to battle the enemy.” The heat in her cheeks only intensified. “Stay in the jet. And if you need to barricade the doors, regardless of what side of them we happen to be on, do it.” He stared her down until she nodded.

Before he disappeared out the hold doors, he turned his head and winked at her over his shoulder. Oddly enough, it settled her stomach to see his cocky confidence.

The one thing Becca was not prepared for, ironically, was the wait. The jet had been empty for several hours and only Bucky had come to get some gravel out of the hydraulic gaps of his metal arm. The rest of the time, she spied outside the one-way glass at the battle ahead. It was a terrible hobby to have when you knew half of the players, but it was like watching a train wreck. You know you shouldn’t watch, but…

A flash of red caught her eye, at once. Peter had just been flung aside by some Hydra agent in a bulky exosuit. In a flash of green, Loki cut in and deliver a blow to protect the kid. Loki would never admit it aloud, but he had a soft spot for the teenager–partly because he was a child, mostly because he would bring Loki chocolate chip cookies every time he went to see him. Regardless of the reason, the maneuver had ended with Loki becoming a favorite target of all the Hydra personnel around the pair.

Loki yelled something she couldn’t make out, and Peter began to climb upwards to get a better (and safer) vantage point. More agents converged on the Asgardian and Becca found herself chanting no’s under her breath. This was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have watched the fight. And she certainly shouldn’t have opened the hold doors and run straight into its center.

Let there be light, let there be light, let me be alright.

With shaky hands, she lifted her pistol and took aim. Tony made everyone take basic gun training and get certified at the gun range. This wasn’t a new experience for her. Having buildings shudder and rumble, screams fill the air, and explosions happen less than thirty meters off–that was a new experience. And it made it a hell of a lot harder to aim at areas that were not covered by a bulletproof vest or part of her friend.

Loki started as the body trying to wrestle him down shuddered and slumped to the floor. He turned round in a neat circle and glared. “I told you to stay in the jet!”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve circled back earlier, then!” She screamed back, flinching her eyes closed with every thundering bullet leaving her gun.

“Tell me you’re not closing your eyes every time you shoot!” He had closed the distance between them and had joined his back to hers.

“Fine. I won’t tell you.”

“You could’ve shot me in the head!”

“You should have taken your damn helmet, then!” Her voice was near a shriek, another three bullets ringing through the air before she realized she had to change the clip.

Except she forgot them.

On the jet.

Did she mention she had no real battle experience?

“Loki,” her voice trembled, barely audible over the scuffle even to her own ears, “do you have bullets on you?”

He snorted. “Do I look like I have a gun, Rebecca?” He glanced over his shoulder at her and did a double-take before the information clicked. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t!” She didn’t answer, instead drawing a knife sheathed in a strap on her thigh and holding it in front of her. It shuddered in time with the tremors in her hand. She couldn’t stay here and she couldn’t make it back on her own. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He growled. “If I die getting you back to safety, I’m going to be so damn cross!”

With golden string

Our universe was brought to life

That we may fall in love

Every time we open up our eyes

“My head is killing me.”

“Yeah. A bullet to the skull will do that,” he said, smirking. He had yet to let her head go.

They were on the floor of the jet, and he was on his knees. Beside him, his horns sat with a splotch of blood marring the very edge of the face opening and the metal bent slightly out of shape.

“You’re lucky I left you my helm. Not so much for the man who shot you. The ricochet was nasty.”

“The ricochet killed him?” She frowned, trying to think of the physics that would make such a thing possible.

She nodded. “I’m OK. I’ll just stay put.”

For a long moment she looked between the cushioned seats and the hold doors, deciding the best course of action–back to her table, safe, or… Just beyond the doors, Loki sunk a dagger into the stomach of a HYDRA agent and kicked them back. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced back at jet and smirked, turning away only to dodge a punch. Becca took a swig of water, grabbed her gun, and ran back into the fire just as the horns settled onto her skull.

#Loki #Others #Submitted fic #submission #atlas space #Fanfictrashdump #sun #chapter 1

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nelvana · 4 years

Text

In which the dreams are nightmares

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which the god of space is fought Previous: In which there is one last break

Warning! This chapter has descriptions of body horror! Reader discretion is advised.

The way forward was quiet as the group walked together through the dark corridors of Palkia’s home. The long stretch of cavern that only went one way almost felt as though it went on forever. They all knew that Palkia themself, Primal Palkia, awaited them at the end of all this. That eventually they would make it to the end of this all, for one final fight. And that could only add to the feeling of going too fast and yet too slow.

Finally though, Ceebee told them that they were nearly there.

“In fact…” Ceebee went on, “Dialga is close too. They still aren’t in the same place, but the path must diverge slightly soon.”

“What about the Lake Guardians?” Alex asked, quickening his pace, which had been uncharacteristically slow before, to stand beside the celebi.

“…They’re with Dialga. As is the ditto. I suspect they’re guarding them,” Ceebee answered, antennae flicking slightly as she spoke.

“So, should we fight them and get Dialga first, or go straight to Palkia?” Tsuki asked next, shaking her head afterwards as if ridding it of more dirt, despite no more of the specks falling out of her mane anymore.

“Dialga is still weakened, but we could try to get them if we wanted. We have not yet actually fought Palkia with the help of Dialga,” Ceebee said, slowly slightly without realizing as she thought. “I wonder if what orans we have left would be enough for them…”

“We would have to fight the Lake Guardians to get through to Dialga. We might be able to avoid that extra fight and save our own energy if we go straight to Palkia,” Nelvana pointed out.

“…We might not get that choice,” Ceebee suddenly murmured, slowing down even more to the point she was practically just fluttering in place.

Everyone else slowing to the celebi’s pace, they looked ahead to see what she could possibly be referring to here. Right away, there wasn’t anyone else in the cave nearby them. However, one could see that they were close to the dividing pathways that Ceebee had spoken of. The way they were heading continued onwards ahead before turning to the right slightly, but to the left there was the large mouth of another tunnel, the darkness and the distance preventing anyone from seeing what was actually within either pathway past a glance.

Then, from the shadows of the last path, the Lake Guardians floated out, Ditto trailing behind. They stared out at the others across from them in the corridor, neither saying nor doing anything. For a couple moments, the two groups merely stared down at each other, each tensely awaiting the other to act first. Eventually though, it was Ceebee that spoke, calling out to them.

“Do you wish to fight us again, or shall we pass peacefully?” Ceebee asked them, despite being certain of the answer that would be given.

Despite that, there was a pause before any of the trio spoke, Ditto only laying on the floor, passively ignoring any dialogue going on. Uxie continued making eye contact with Ceebee, their eyes as glassy and emotionless as ever, though Mesprit and Azelf exchanged a momentary glance to each other.

“If you leave now, you will not be hunted,” Uxie responded, gesturing vaguely with one arm, holding it out in front of them.

“Another mercy chance?” Nelvana whispered to no one in particular.

“That is strange, why now?” Alex replied in an equally quiet voice, though he kept his eyes trained on the group’s foes rather than glancing to his partner when he spoke to her.

“Perhaps Primal Palkia’s motives are different from Palkia’s,” Tsuki pointed out, lowering her head slightly, tilting it just barely to the side as well.

“We are not going to leave,” Ceebee called back, speaking above the whisper the others were using to just speak amongst themselves and projecting her voice to ensure she would be heard. “Our quarrel is not with you, if you leave, we will not bother you four,” she continued.

Mesprit glanced down at Ditto, furrowing their brows at them. Ditto didn’t react.

“We cannot do that,” Azelf told Ceebee tersely.

Ceebee paused, letting out a sigh and then narrowing her eyes, “then we are at a standstill. And for us to achieve our goal, we cannot just stand still here, so it would seem that we will fight.”

“So be it,” Uxie replied.

The Lake Guardians moved backwards, forcing Ditto to lay in front of them. This time they barely spared the poor creature a glance before it began to shake and writhe, the tell-tale sign that Ditto was being forced to transform, which were signs that were already becoming scarily familiar to the group. Not wishing to allow time for the four foes to merely stand around and prepare themselves for battle, the others moved forward, some lingering momentarily to use a status move before jumping ahead to join the others.

As they advanced, the ditto’s shape grew and morphed into something… unfamiliar. Pink turned to a black darkness not unlike shadows, and they shakily rose to two silt-like legs that appeared far too weak to hold up any creature. Clawed arms stretched to lay by the sides of an almost hourglass-like figure, shoulders which had long black tatters that floated in the air limply like a flag on a calm day. Red spikes grew to cover their neck, protecting a small head with ice blue eyes and long, flowing white hair. As with other transformations from this ditto, some places were incomplete, the red collar bleeding into the pink sludge that Ditto was originally made off, and bones jutting out where the body hadn’t been formed properly.

There was a pause from the group, as the vast majority looked at such a pokemon and didn’t have the slightest clue what it was supposed to be. A couple, however, recognized this from one source or another, though it was Keahi that was the first to speak up about it.

“That’s Darkrai!” Keahi exclaimed, “The nightmare mythical!”

Though zie seemed as though zie was about to go on, no more words came out as the newly transformed pokemon lifted their arms over their head, forming a purple and black sphere between their palms. Nelvana threw her club at them, but the attack was deflected by Azelf, the weapon clattering on the wall next to them; out of reach of the marowak from where she currently stood.

Following this up, Uxie raised their arm in front of them again, extending a finger and using it to draw an ‘X’ in the air, which showed up in a scratchy red. This would be the start of the move imprison, an attack known to have a couple uses. Uxie quickly demonstrated which use this was, when psychic bars appeared, blocking everyone together in this space of the hallway. No one could retreat until the effects wore off.

Seeing this, and then being able to piece together what Darkrai’s attack might be based on what Keahi told them, despite no one of the group ever seeing it before, they began to spread out. Though they could not pull off a full retreat anymore, staying clumped together would make them more vulnerable.

During this, and as the imposter Darkrai continued to power up the move, Uxie clapped their hands, a golden glow pulsing over their hands and passing over to their ally, the Dark Void instantly increasing in size. Azelf and Mesprit followed suit, each using helping hand to strength the attack as the group could only watch now in increasing horror as this humongous orb towered over them all.

Before anyone could say or do anything to possibly prevent the attack from going off, the sphere began to split into dozens and dozens of tiny orbs, each being shot out at the group members. A couple missed, the aim going wide and hitting a wall, but there were far too many to dodge forever.

Keahi felt something hit zim in the back, a crimson bubble forming around zim and shifting the world around them to a red tint. The bubble popped, and zie felt zirself hit the ground before succumbing to the darkness of sleep.

It’s calm. A cool breeze brushes over the land, brushing over the young torchic’s feathers as she walks across the forest floor.

Her steps were quick, but careful. She had just been out around Tiny Woods for a walk when an earthquake happened. A lot of those had been happening recently, but this one felt like the worst yet. Perhaps it would have been wiser for her to return right home afterwards, but she couldn’t help by want to check to see if everyone out here was okay, since she was out here anyway. In previous earthquakes, some trees had fallen down, and she would hate to find that someone was stuck under one. Plus, she had already started hearing that there was a new dungeon here, so at the very least it would be good to locate it to avoid for any possible Tiny Woods picnics with family in the future.

For some reason though, despite wanting to check around the forest quickly, Keahi found herself slowing down towards a small clearing in Tiny Woods. She wasn’t even tired, and yet she naturally slowed to a stop here. There was nothing special about this spot. It was a space in the forest that had less trees, providing a small circle of space to freely walk around in. However, as she looked up, the foliage from other trees still blocked out most of the sky. This was normal.

And yet, she found herself standing there, staring up at the leaves, almost as if waiting for something. As she didn’t even know what this was, she quickly snapped herself out of this distraction, turning to glance down at the grass around her. A few leaves were scattered on the forest floor, naturally falling from strong gusts of wind, but not much else. She didn’t know what she had been expecting; this was normal.

Suddenly, Keahi was torn out of all zir thoughts about her own strange pause here at the sound of fluttering wings and someone crying. Turning towards the source of the sound, she saw Butterfree hurriedly flying about, happening to head towards the direction of the torchic.

“Oh, my baby! My poor baby!” Butterfree cried, “somebody! Please! Help me!”

“What happened?” Keahi asked, quickly stepping over to the distressed mother.

“It's horrible! My Caterpie fell into a cavern! My poor baby!” Butterfree explained.

“A cavern? I heard there was a new mystery dungeon after that earthquake earlier, did it make a cavern?” Keahi questioned.

“A huge fissure opened in the ground, and my Caterpie fell in! He's too young to crawl out by himself! When I went to get my baby, pokemon suddenly attacked me!” Butterfree continued, pausing afterwards to gasp for breath between all her sobs and previous rushing about.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help him get back out!” Keahi assured her.

Butterfree blinked down at the torchic, “you will? Oh, thank you! Thank you!” she responded, tearing up again at the overwhelming emotion from everything. “The dungeon, it’s… it’s right off where I just came from,” she directed, pointing out behind where she had come from, “please be careful!”

“I will, don’t worry!” Keahi chirped, nodding to Butterfree before beginning to hurry off to where she had been directed to; she had had an idea of where the dungeon was, but it was good to get some confirmation too.

Before they got far, however, they found themself slowing to a stop again. Their mind spaced again, the feeling of something being off settling into their gut. Something was… missing?

“Before I go…” Keahi murmured, slowly turning back around to face Butterfree. “Have you seen… anyone else here? Around this area?”

“No, you’re the first one I’ve run into!” Butterfree answered.

“Okay…” That made sense, why wouldn’t it make sense? “If you do see someone else though, could you… maybe direct them to me? I’m…” Keahi paused again, finding it a challenge to place their thoughts here and find the right words. “…I’m missing a, uh, friend. Yeah, I’m not sure where th- she is.”

“Okay, I will, but please, rescue my son!” Butterfree responded, panic beginning to enter her voice again.

“I will!” Keahi reassured her, but found their feet stuck in the grass. “But… are you really sure? My friend, I… I need her. I don’t know… if I can do this without her. She’s supposed to be here.”

Butterfree paused momentarily, merely continuing to flutter about anxiously. She just continued staring at Keahi expectantly, as if Keahi stopping to ask about this here was something the mother simply could not comprehend.

“Please, just go rescue my son!” Butterfree finally snapped, “I-I’ll keep a lookout here, just… please, go,” she added, pleading.

“I…”

Now it was Keahi’s turn to pause, as they found their mouth dry and mind dazed yet buzzing. Technically, there really was nothing stopping them from going to rescuing Caterpie. There really wasn’t. They had managed to identify that what they felt was missing was a friend, and Butterfree promised to look out for her, and yet…

And yet, they couldn’t let go of that. Their mind felt fuzzy, almost sleepy. This friend felt so important, and yet they couldn’t even place a name or species in this moment. What was wrong with them? And why was it so important that they couldn’t rescue Caterpie without her? Keahi knew that they could fight in mystery dungeons, they had been training for that exact thing! So why…?

They idly reached a wing up towards their neck, a wing claw scratching at the feathers around their neck. Something was missing. But they rarely wore anything around their neck. They wanted to wear a sash whenever they formed their rescue team, but that was a long way from now, they still hadn’t found the right… partner…

“Why are you still just standing there?” Butterfree questioned, “go rescue my son!” her voice strangely turned harsh and demanding, something Keahi had never heard from the mother before.

“…No.” The word came tumbling out of Keahi’s mouth before zie could think about it, but somehow zie didn’t want to correct zirself. “This… This already happened. I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

“What are you talking about?” Butterfree shrieked, her panicked worry very quickly turning to enragement.

“This is the dead timeline!” Keahi exclaimed, the pieces finally putting themselves together as zir mind reminded zirself of what was going on. “Nel’s supposed to be here, but she isn’t! This is the dead timeline!” zie continued, “and this… this isn’t even real. I’m dreaming! I’m really in the Spacial Rift! I’m with my team, and we got attacked by a ditto transformed into Darkrai! This is just a nightmare!”

“Go rescue my son!” Butterfree screamed, now purposely ignoring Keahi’s words.

“No! I already did! And you aren’t the real Butterfree! None of this is real!” Keahi snapped back, “and I want to wake up!”

Butterfree stopped. She stared blankly at the torchic, saying nothing, wings now slowly beating behind her just enough to continue keeping her in place. Keahi stared back, awaiting some sort of response from her. For the longest time, neither of them said anything. Eventually though, Keahi sighed and looked away, glancing deeper into the forest.

“Fine then, I’ll just find a way to wake myself up.”

“No, you can’t!” As Keahi turned to look at Butterfree, zie found that her words almost seemed to come out at an eerie delay. “You cannot wake up! You weren’t supposed to even know! How did you know? How? How?”

Repeated phrases from this unreal version of Butterfree turned into an incoherent garbled mess as their form began falling apart, the image of being someone Keahi knew literally melting away into shrieks. Keahi zirself found that zie could only watch, stuck in place, petrified like a statue as zie watched how what almost could have just been a dream quickly showed its true colors as a nightmare. This broken illusion of Butterfree continued to scream as their mouth stretched impossibly open, wings wide and unmoving, yet somehow still being suspended in the air.

Then, Butterfree vanished altogether, voice still echoing in the trees even after her form had completely melted away into the air.

Keahi still didn’t move, didn’t even test if zie was capable of running off now, zir gaze still glued to where the warped dream version of someone zie knew once was. Zir chest heaved as zie gasped in ragged breaths, each one feeling worse than the last.

“I want to wake up,” zie whispered into the breeze.

Just as the illusion of Butterfree had fallen apart, soon that of Tiny Woods was no far behind. The world seemed to shake around zim, colors flickering in front of zir eyes. The breeze picked up into a violent wind that tore at Keahi’s feathers and made zir eyes water, but now zie dug zir talons into the grass, well aware that zie would likely have to see whatever this nightmare had planned for zim through.

Right where Keahi had checked before, the form of a cubone appeared. Despite knowing this was just a part of this dream, and was likely a trap that would turn against zim, Keahi couldn’t help but pull free of the grass to run over to the sight of zir partner.

This image vanished though before zie had barely taken a few steps, and was replaced by the body of something larger, more unfamiliar; a human. The body of a human which no longer moved, from a timeline that never came, one where Gardevoir never stepped in and the fall combined with previous injuries was fatal.

Frozen in place, Keahi watched at the world seemed to flicker again, the image vanishing again as the world was swept into a darkened land with only greyscale colors. Another flicker, more shaking. Then, still all black and white, Tiny Woods was also a barren landscape, the trees of the forest all knocked over each other and leaving just the open fields of dead plants.

The world continued to shake and flicker, continuing to cycle between illusions and images, each of other times and possibilities. Displaying a timeline that no longer existed, the timeline that newly existed, and timelines that never existed at all, but could have had things gone differently. Each time Keahi remained in place, remained in Tiny Woods, being forced to see these glimpses of alternate worlds.

Even as the world finally stopped flickering between these windows of other timelines, leaving Keahi back in the original Tiny Woods, everything continued to shake. It shook worse than an earthquake and almost seemed to spin at the same time with the incredulous roar of the nightmares own frustration of being defied.

Then, the ground began to cave into itself. Grass and dirt and rocks pulling into a growing pit of nothing but darkness which only grew bigger and bigger. A massive hole which only slowly grew larger, swallowing everything like the most vicious whirlpool.

Keahi stared at the pit as the edges of it grew closer and closer to zir own feet, talons curled tightly into the grass again. Zie knew, zie knew, that though this was far more vivid than any dream or nightmare zie had ever had, that that didn’t mean that this would play by the rules of reality. Trying to run would likely force zim into running on the spot helplessly, or make the pit open up faster to swallow zim whole. No, there was really nothing zie could do to stop what had already begun here.

So, as a final act of defiance, Keahi narrowed zir eyes and puffed up zir feathers, steeling zir courage before rushing forwards, not backwards, and throwing zirself into the growing void of the hole.

Falling. Zie fell through the nothing of the nightmare, and even if zie turned to look back up where zie had come from, zie would see nothing but more of the same darkness. Keahi stared wide eyed as zie fell, but even though it almost felt as if zie was falling faster and faster, there wasn’t even any ground in sight to hit at the bottom.

“I WANT TO WAKE UP!!!”

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WakE Up

Keahi’s eyes shot open, followed by zir body lurching as zie attempted to stand up before fully awakening. It took a few moments to focus again, heavy breathing and darting gaze from zir own panic making it a challenge to properly adjust to being back in reality again. But as zir eyes focused in on the darkened cave walls of Spacial Rift, relief flooded in at the realization that zie was finally awake.

Taking a proper look at zir surroundings again, panic stabbed back in zir heart at the sight of being the only one standing. Momentarily, in zir still awaking mind, zir feared that everyone else had died, but zie managed to focus enough to see the movement of breathing and was able to relax again. Slightly.

The effects of imprison had long since worn off, and the Lake Guardians, along with Ditto, were also long gone. This confused Keahi slightly, but zie didn’t feel like questioning why zie and the others had been left alive despite being all defeated, and settled for being thankful that they had been spared instead. Whatever reason it was, they hadn’t been attacked in their vulnerable states, and right now, it didn’t matter what that reason was, and just that it happened.

What still did confuse Keahi, was why zie had been capable of waking up at all. Zie had read that the only thing capable of waking up someone who had been struck down to eternal nightmares by Darkrai was a lunar wing from Cresselia, but… there was certainly no Cresselia here, and it would be even more confusing if Ditto had transformed into Cresselia themself. If Ditto had…

“Oh,” Keahi murmured aloud as the thought hit zim. “That wasn’t really Darkrai, just a ditto; the effects are weaker!”

Now grounded again and confirming the possibility that these nightmare effects were only temporary, Keahi decided to set zirself to helping everyone else wake up. Even those with teleport or capable of vanishing into the shadows had been caught by the dark void attack, likely from imprison being set up, so if zie were to get everyone up to fight Primal Palkia, zie would have to be quick. Hurrying over to the unconscious form of zir partner, zie went to nudge Nelvana. When she didn’t awake, gentle pokes turned to more forceful shoves as Keahi grew more desperate at the thought that zie would be incapable getting anyone else to wake up.

“Please… wake up, Nel!” Keahi pleaded, pushing with all zir weight against the marowak, only succeeding to roll her over from her side onto her back. “Please…”

Letting out a sigh of defeat, Keahi stood back up again, staring down at Nelvana silently for a few moments, as if merely willing her to wake up would make any difference. In the end though, zie had to turn away. Zie had seen zir partner having nightmares before, but that certainly didn’t make it any less painful to watch, especially now as it was becoming evident that as a marowak, Nelvana was capable of showing more expression than when the skull just covered her face as a cubone.

Looking around again, Keahi sought out another solution. Would there be someone that was easier to wake up, or were all these efforts pointless? The idea that Keahi was the only one capable of waking up from this at all wasn’t something zie wanted to consider, but the thought settled itself like a rock in zir gut anyway.

Eyes landing on Alex, at first zie wondered if he, as a lighter sleeper, would be any easier to wake up. Then, zie noticed the bag again, and hope reinstated itself within zim as zie recalled that he and Damien had mentioned that they still had other status berries. Including chesto berries, which woke someone from sleeping. Those had to work!

Dashing over to the unconscious grovyle, Keahi crouched down beside him, tugging the bag to sit beside zim so zie could rummage through it. As zie moved the bag a bit, Alex stirred, making Keahi pause with held breath and the hope that maybe zir first thought was correct after all. It wasn’t long until this excitement deflated within zim, the realization clicking that he wasn’t actually waking up forcing zim to go back to zir second plan and open up the bag.

With the bag on its side, some of the rounder items at the top rolled out a bit as Keahi opened it, which zie carefully set aside so that zie could search deeper into the bag. As zie gently moved aside the reviver seeds and some of the oran berries that hadn’t rolled out, zir eyes landed on Giratina’s stone, which had also been placed near the top of the bag for easier access. Temporarily forgoing zir plan in favor of some company and advice, Keahi hooked a claw around the rock and pulled it out of the bag, cradling it carefully in zir wings.

“Giratina? Are you there?” Keahi called to the item, desperately hoping that the connection hadn’t been severed when Ceebee had been knocked unconscious like the others.

“Yes, I am,” Giratina replied, “what is it? I had just been… Oh. What… What happened here?” they questioned, their voice growing quieter as they sensed the scene around them.

“Ditto transformed into Darkrai and used dark void,” Keahi told them, “and Uxie used imprison to make sure we couldn’t escape. I just woke up a couple minutes ago. Everyone is still asleep and I haven’t been able to get anyone up.”

“That is quite the situation. You are fortunate they do not have actual Darkrai on their side,” Giratina murmured.

“Yeah, I know,” Keahi sighed, “I was going to try chesto berries. Do you think that will work?”

“I… I have my doubts. However, it would be worth it to try regardless,” Giratina answered.

Nodding, Keahi set back down the rock to continue rummaging through the bag. Managing to locate one of the purple berries, zie carefully rolled it out of the bag to pick up properly. As Alex was the closest, zie decided this plan would be best to test with him. Placing down the chesto berry for a moment, Keahi gingerly pried the grovyle’s mouth open, placing the berry in his mouth and then closing it for him. Silently, they waited to see if anything would happen. Eventually, his body seemed to recognize the food in his mouth and managed to eat it, but despite all that, he still didn’t wake up.

“It didn’t work…” Keahi moaned in defeat, going back to pick up the stone again. “Will… Will they wake up on their own?” zie asked, zir worry and concern pouring out of zir voice.

“I believe so, yes,” Giratina assured zim, “if you were capable of waking up on your own, they should as well. Unfortunately, it seems that they cannot be awoken by an outside force; excluding the lunar wing, which we lack. You will have to wait for them to wake up on their own.”

“What if they don’t? What do I do?” Keahi continued.

“Calm yourself; they will wake up,” Giratina responded, “it’s just a matter of time. They are all strong-minded, they should be able to wake themselves up.”

Reluctantly accepting this answer, Keahi nodded weakly again. Deciding to put the items back in Alex’s bag to give zirself something to do in the meantime, zie set the rock back down again and began placing all the items that zie had moved or taken out back into the bag like they once were. When done, zie closed the bag and picked up the stone again, the only item zie hadn’t put back into the bag, and began pacing around, searching for any signs that someone could be waking up.

Nelvana suddenly jumped up, merely a couple minutes after Keahi had begun pacing. Seeing zir partner wake up, Keahi darted over to her, barely stopping zirself from just throwing zirself at her for a hug, and instead gingerly reaching out a wing to pat her arm as she readjusted to waking up after her own nightmare.

“Keahi…?” Nelvana whispered.

“Yeah, it’s me, you’re awake now,” Keahi assured her, “you’re finally awake… I was so worried.”

“How are you feeling?” Giratina, rock still being cradled in Keahi’s other wing, spoke up.

“I…” Nelvana rubbed the right side of her head with one hand, reaching out to hold Keahi’s wing that was touching her shoulder with her other hand. “I have a bit of a headache, but it’s already fading away. That was… Gah, that was horrible,” she said, “how’s everyone else?”

Frowning, Keahi had to explain what had happened since zie had woken up zirself. Nelvana listened patiently, her eyes drifting slightly to the others as Keahi told her how none of them could wake up with any outside help, and how they’d have to wait for everyone to get up on their own.

“That’s…”

“A problem,” Keahi finished Nelvana’s sentence as she trailed off. “I think… aside from these being really freaky and vivid nightmares, I think they’re fine, at least. It’s just a matter of us… being a bit tight for time.”

Nelvana nodded slowly, “yeah…” she agreed, “Giratina, can you tell how… how bad the world’s balance is, now that Palkia is primal? Do you know how much time has passed?”

“I am not certain how much time has passed. However, I can tell you that the imbalance has only slowly gotten worse. While I was gone before, I had been focusing around Murky Cave and some of my other locations to check on the status of the rest of the world. We are only fortunate there have not been any instant and larger damages so far, like when Dialga was primal,” Giratina explained, “some mystery dungeons have been altering, and so has a lot of landmass. I have heard that some portals have been opening up too, though I have not heard if anyone has been unfortunate enough to fall in one, or where any of the portals lead to.”

“And it’s only going to get worse if we don’t do anything,” Nelvana concluded.

“What should we do then?” Keahi asked earnestly, “do you have any plans, Nel?”

“I’m thinking…” Nelvana furrowed her brows. “Giratina, do you think if we fight Primal Palkia, we could at least stall any further damages, even if we don’t defeat them right away?”

“Yes, I believe that would work! While much of what is happening is not purposeful or conscious on Palkia’s part, by distracting them with battle, you would be able to force their energy to focus on you, which should buy some time. Not much, but I believe that it should still help,” Giratina answered.

“Do you think we should fight them, just the two of us?” Keahi questioned.

“I know we can’t win, with just us. But it wouldn’t be good to just sit around here and do nothing, if at least being present in a fight could help,” Nelvana told zim, “we would have to be extremely careful, but if the others should be waking up soon, they’ll be able to come over and help us in the battle too, until eventually everyone is there and we can defeat Palkia.”

Keahi paused, mulling over this idea for a couple moments. Then, zie smiled, nodding back to Nelvana with a determined gaze.

“Alright, let’s do it,” zie decided.

Nelvana smiled back, “okay! I’ll get my club then… You still have your fire gem too, right? That might help too. We’ll have to start off without any other items though, so we’ll have to be extra careful,” she said, getting up to search for where her club had been dropped after being deflected before, finding it right by the wall where she remembered.

“I can stay here, if you two would like,” Giratina offered, “your friends may be confused when they wake up, so I can inform them of what has happened and where you have gone, so they can be directed to you.”

“That sounds great! Thank you Giratina, that will help a ton,” Keahi replied, “and yeah, Nel, I’ve got the fire gem right here.”

“Yeah, that sounds good, Giratina,” Nelvana agreed, returning to the other two from fetching her weapon. “Are you ready then, Keahi?”

Keahi nodded, placing back down the stone close to the center of everyone else, “yeah, I’m ready.”

“Best of luck to you both,” Giratina told them, “be careful out there.”

“Thanks, we will,” Nelvana replied, smiling slightly. “Let’s go then.”

The pair headed back down the path they had been travelling through before, they spared a glance towards the other path, glimpsing the Lake Guardians there. If that trio had noticed anything going on outside of the room they were in, they didn’t say or do anything about it, instead keeping their backs turned completely from the entrance to their area. Silently, Nelvana and Keahi decided to just pass that path by, continuing on with their plan to fight Primal Palkia. Though they knew Dialga could still be helpful if they got them freed and back to health, the two of them weren’t certain that they could take on the four foes guarding the legendary on their own at the moment.

Just before passing through the small corner down the corridor they were heading down to get to Primal Palkia, Nelvana paused, turning around and glancing back to the rest of the group. Keahi stopped and looked back as well, and the duo remained quiet as they stared at their friends for a few moments before they had to move on, continuing onwards.

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which the god of space is fought Previous: In which there is one last break

Special thanks to @team-ion for helping me with some tips for the garbled messages! There are thirteen hidden messages in that mess, some much easier than others, feel very welcome to try figuring them all out!

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dunkshotdreaming · 5 years

Text

Sugar

Pairing: Jaemin x reader

Genre: tooth rotting fluff; the classic best friends to lovers trope

Word Count: 1,584

Warnings: rated c for cheesy. (also there is like one cuss word, that’s it)

✎ A/N: Was influenced by my first ever blurb over on @hourly-dreaming + Jaemin's self professed sugar eating habit. Probably lame and cliché as hell. Self indulgent, sorry not sorry. (Did try to keep it entirely gender neutral though👍🏻)

You've just finished your nightly routine as you crawl into your sleeping bag, excited that your best friend Jaemin is staying over. As you both have some time off for the summer anyway, Jaemin pretends to be feeling "too lonely" to stay home alone while his parents are off on some business trip, the perfect setup that gave way to your week-long sleepover.

"Scoot over, I'm not going to bite," Jaemin states, impatiently dragging your sleeping bag closer to his. In all honesty, you both could have slept on the bed or couch just fine, but there was just something nostalgic about busting out your bags like this, something about making blanket forts and having pillow fights and staying up watching cartoons together, just like the good old days.

He laughs softly at the way you sleepily hug your teddy bear close to your chest, a sight he never grew tired of. As he leans over to speak to you, the gentle scent of brown sugar permeates his senses, and suddenly, Jaemin is reminded of the precious sugar cubes he's forgotten back at home.

"You smell sweet," he mentions offhandedly, distracted by how soft and beautiful you look in the dim glow of the night light you'd plugged in earlier.

After a beat, you nod to yourself before responding, "Must be my new sugar scrub."

"And here I thought it was just because you were a snack," Jaemin retorts, his eyes turning up into a nearly crescent shape at the way you cover your mouth, a poor attempt at stifling your laughter. He almost hated to admit it, but clichés were clichés for a reason; after all, it had to be something that happened often enough in the first place, right?

It had been earlier in the year when he'd noticed his feelings for you might not be exactly platonic, but he decided he'd rather stay quiet than risk losing you, the best friend he cherished more than anyone else in this world. But everyone slips up sometimes, and tonight, as he lays by your side, the part of his heart that wishes it could be like this every night decides it's high time it takes control.

The wave of feelings he's hit with successfully manage switch off his brain for long enough that he doesn't realize he's caressing your cheek until your eyes shoot open, eyeing him curiously. Jaemin had always been affectionate, and you were no exception to his ways, however... things felt different. There was tension in the room, a thick atmosphere created of unsaid words and pent-up emotion.

You'd swear Jaemin was staring at your lips, but there was no way that was possible, you're convinced it isn't. Your best friend you'd been hopelessly pining over actually returning the feelings? ...Yeah, right. This wasn't a Hallmark movie.

"Would you mind if I tasted your scrub?" The words are out of his mouth before he can reel them back in, hand freezing on your cheek, still not withdrawing from its position as his heart falters.

"Tasted? Uh, well... it's in the bathroom, if you wanna-" your words are cut short as he cautiously places his lips on yours, merely a brief touch before he pulls away. Stuck in a stupor, you have to blink yourself back to reality. A quick pinch to your cheek confirms that you're wide awake, hissing at the pain as you eye Jaemin with furrowed brows.

The boy in question rolls onto his back, covering his eyes with one arm as the other lays between your bodies on the floor. "Ah shit, it wasn't supposed to go like this... I messed up. To think after so long, I ruin our friendship because I couldn't keep my feelings for you in check." He scoffs, furious with himself... yet he can't find it in him to wish it had never happened, having been able to satisfy his curiosity for your lips at long last. "I totally understand if you're mad at me, or if you wanna kick me out, or-" This time, Jaemin is the one who gets cut off, the softest press of your finger to his lips as you then envelop his free hand in both of your own, your plush bear forgotten with the wind.

"Are you telling me that we're both so cliché... that we fell for our best friend and chose to suffer in silence because... we couldn't bear the thought of splitting apart?" Your breathless confession makes him go cross-eyed for a moment, his arm leaning against his forehead now, all the while processing your words carefully, until his eyes land back on your face.

"That we both?.." is all he can manage to mumble out. "Wait, you like me too?" his voice cracks towards the end, the lilt in his otherwise rumbling voice making the two of you giggle like school children.

"And here I was worried it was painfully obvious... you really are so oblivious, Jaemin."

"You didn't notice either though!" he shoots back, almost as defensive as it was reflexive.

"Touché," is all you can offer in return. He looks over at you, at the way you're nervously chewing your lip because the smile threatening to break out would simply burst your cheeks. Decidedly, he brings his arm away from your face before returning it to where it had previously rested, cupping your cheek to force himself into your line of sight once again.

The dull thrumming of blood in his ears is all he can hear, senses heightened due to the surge of adrenaline. "Can I try again, for real this time?" he seems more confident this time, but still wary of potentially scaring you off, the skittishness making it hard to read your true emotions. Much to his relief, you lean in, a quiet sign of approval as you fear your voice may betray your deceptively calm expression.

There's no hesitation from there on out, and Jaemin kisses you the way you thought was only possible in fairytales. If it wasn't midnight, you'd swear the birds would be chirping at your windowsill, ready to help you get dressed for the day ahead. His pillowy lips press against your own heavily, but the he moves them against the skin of your lips is the complete opposite, gentle warmth spreading our from your chest. Not wanting to overdo it on the first kiss (of many more, he hopes), he draws away from you, chest heaving as he takes ragged breaths; moreso due to the overwhelming emotions blossoming in his bosom, truth be told.

A silent question lingers as he looks at you expectantly, wondering how you felt in the aftermath. "Much better the second time around," you say with a smile before it turns lopsided, "though you kinda hit my eye with your nose." Much to his chagrin, Jaemin's hopes of a picturesque first kiss with you shatter before his very eyes, only to realize that if it didn't bother you much, then why should he let it get to him?

"Would you do me the honor," he lifts both of your hands in his, lifting them towards his lips to place a peck on the back of each, "and go out with me? Anywhere you want to go tomorrow, it's on me."

"Kinda backwards, isn't this? First you stay over, then you kiss me, and then you ask me out?" you tease, taking pleasure in the sight of a pouty Jaemin scrunching his nose at you. "But yes, I will do you the honor and grace you with my presence. If and only if," you pause for dramatic effect.

"If?" the boy hangs on to your every word as his heart hammers in his chest, still in disbelief that you would actually be his to cherish and shower with love, even moreso now than ever.

"If you promise not to eat my sugar, scrub."

"Did you just-" he scoffs at your unbearably lame pun, groaning as he rolls his eyes. "Is it too late to un-ask you out now?" he raises a single brow in question, laughing at the mock hurt on your features.

"Guess someone isn't getting a good night kiss," you send a jab his way before facing away from him, collecting your bear in your arms as you try to quiet the rabbiting of your heartbeat enough to get a few hours of sleep.

A hand on your waist calls your attention as Jaemin comically scoots from within his sleeping bag, not unlike a caterpillar's movements, until he's hugging you from behind now, breath fanning over your hair as he sighs.

"I lost my teddy bear... can I sleep here with you instead?"

"Is it too late to un-agree to go out with you?" you parrot his earlier jest.

His next words aim for your heart and strike with dart-like precision, "You're stuck with me for good now, sorry sugar." Now, you could pretend your heart didn't just somersault from beneath your ribcage, but you'd be lying through your teeth if you did.

The rays of early morning sun cast stripes of golden light across your sleeping forms, bundled up in your own bags yet all curled up together. As your parents awake and go to check up on you two, they decide the peaceful sight before them is simply too precious to disturb. Turning to face the other, one of your parents quietly whispers, "I told you they were a thing! You owe me twenty."

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occasionally-writing · 4 years

Text

Spending New Years Together

A/N: I’ve been working on this since early in the night of yesterday. I got this idea from watching the music video, which can be found here. So, in this, everyone is happy and no one is dead. Fuck episode ten of MODC! It doesn’t not exist in my head! Anyways XD I hope everyone enjoys the fic and I am going to take a small break to go eat something! :D <3

Summary: Sun Bo and Zhi Gang host a small get together for a late Christmas/ New Years. Xi Gu and Hao Ting are invited and everyone has the time of their lives as they celebrate the upcoming New Year together.

Word Count: 2382

“We don’t need to hurry. Sun Bo and Brother Chih-Gang said that they were still getting things together. The last thing they need is for us to barge in on them when they’re not ready,” Yu Xi Gu sighed, watching as his boyfriend strolled around their condo, grabbing random things that they may need for the party and putting them in the messenger bag that they were bringing with them. Ever since Hao Ting had came to him and explained that Sun Bo was setting up a party or a late Christmas party on New Years, Xi Gu found that he couldn’t wait for it himself, but for once, it seemed like he wasn’t the one who was frantic and making sure they had everything. Pushing himself off the door, Xi Gu reached out and caught Hao Ting’s arms, stopping him from moving around even more. “Come on, we don’t want to fill it too much. Just zip it up and let’s get going, yeah?”

“Are you sure we have everything? Shouldn’t we make sure one more time?” Hao Ting muttered, moving to unzip their bag before Xi Gu stepped closer, pulling his face close before their lips were pressed together. Easing the bag to the floor, Hao Ting cupped his boyfriend’s waist and deepened the kiss, smiling within the kiss when he felt Xi Gu’s arms stretch up and lace around his neck. Pulling away before Hao Ting could start to feel him up, Xi Gu patted his chest and moved towards the door. Oh right, they had a party to get to. Clearing his throat with a smirk, Hao Ting lifted the bag over his shoulder and tightened the strap, making sure it was secure before he exited first, letting Xi Gu be the one to lock the condo. “Is your helmet still on my scooter?”

Nodding as he took Hao Ting’s hand, Xi Gu swung their hands forwards and backwards as they exited the building, heading towards the parking lot where Hao Ting’s scooter was waiting. Climbing onto it once they found it, Hao Ting moved the bag around so that Xi Gu could fit in on the back, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist as he started the engine. Moving slowly forward at first, Hao Ting made sure that Xi Gu was okay before he took off at the speed limit, heading towards Sun Bo and Zhi Gang’s condo was. Pulling into the small parking space that was made for a bike or scooter, Hao Ting shut off the engine and helped Xi Gu off first, kicking up the kickstand before he got off as well. Peering up at the building, Xi Gu grinned when he noticed the curtain to the condo move before the door was suddenly being slammed open and Sun Bo practically raised out, calling their name with that bright smile that they both knew so well on his face.

“You guys made it! We’re so happy to host this small get together, as Zhi Gang calls it! Come in! We were getting everything together to start decorating the tree! You need to see it!” Sun Bo exclaimed, waving his arms excitedly before he grabbed both Hao Ting and Xi Gu’s wrists, tugging them both inside the condo. Chuckling as they were pulled, Hao Ting grabbed his boyfriend’s hand with his free one before they finally got up the stairs. Noticing Zhi Gang, Xi Gu smiled and leaned into the hug that he was pulled into. Letting them have a small moment, Sun Bo pulled Hao Ting towards the living room and showed him the boxes of decorations along with the tiny tree that was bare and awaiting them. “Zhi Gang! Come on, let’s start!”

“Still a little kid, aren’t you. Alright, alright. Let them rest dear, they just got here,” Zhi Gang chuckled out, walking into the living room before he wrapped his arm around Sun Bo’s shoulders, squeezing his nose playfully with a grin on his face. Pouting slightly, Sun Bo’s grumbled but nodded, hugging his boyfriend close as Xi Gu sat down next to Hao Ting, who was looking through the decorations with shining eyes. Pulling out a string of golden lights, Xi Gu plugged them in and smiled when he noticed that they blinked on and off. It was nothing like the ones that Hao Ting had when he came by his old room looking like a firefly with a cake in his arms, but it still reminded him of that special moment. Wrapping his arm around Xi Gu, Hao Ting cuddled him close before he unwined the lights. Noticing that they were ready, Zhi Gang nodded and pressed a kiss to Sun Bo’s temple. “Okay, it looks like everyone’s ready. Now we can start but let’s not make a mess, okay?”

Calling out their answers, the gang got to work with decorating the tree, putting on the blinking lights first before Sun Bo pulled out rolls of red and gold garland. Zhi Gang could tell by the sparkle in his boyfriend’s eyes, that making a mess was not something that could be avoided before all hell broke loose and the garland got tossed and wrapped around Xi Gu while Hao Ting pulled out some ornaments and began to stick them on Xi Gu as well. Yelling out as an ornament got thrown at him, Hao Ting threw more at Sun Bo before Zhi Gang finally broke it up as he too was pelted with by the shiny Christmas decorations. Cracking up at the look on his face, Xi Gu untangled himself from the garland before they finally got back on track, wrapping the garland around the tree before they picked up all the ornaments from the floor and placed them rightly on the tree. Stepping back to observe their masterpiece, Zhi Gang noticed something was missing before he dug around more boxes and finally pulled out a gold star that glittered beautifully when the lights flashed on it.

“Who wants to put the star on?” Zhi Gang asked, smiling when everyone pointed at Xi Gu, who blinked and blushed slightly from all the attention on him. Standing up from where he was sitting, Xi Gu took the star from Zhi Gang and carefully placed it on top of the small tree, stepping away once he made it was secure and standing straight up. Lacing their hands together as they stepped away, Hao Ting and Xi Gu smiled softly at each other while Sun Bo wrapped his arm around Zhi Gang’s waist and laid his head on his shoulder. Hearing the timer go off in the kitchen, Zhi Gang chuckled at the whine he got as he had to move away from Sun Bo before he took his hand and pulled his boyfriend towards the kitchen so they could both check on dinner. “Let’s leave them alone while we check on everything. It seems like they’re in their own world anyways.”

Back in the living room, it was just as Zhi Gang had said as Hao Ting pulled out some board games from their messenger bag and set them up on the rug a little ways away from the glowing Christmas tree. Laying down on the rug belly first, the two played some quick games of checkers and a few games of mahjong before they got distracted and just laid on the rug, Xi Gu having his head resting on Hao Ting’s chest as they listened to Zhi Gang and Sun Bo being noisy in the kitchen. Noticing the smell of something delicious in the air, Hao Ting felt his stomach growl while Xi Gu snickered when he felt the rumble from where his head was lying. Stepping back into the living room, Sun Bo rolled his eyes playfully as he noticed how his friends were laying, Sun Bo clicked his tongue and effectively got their attention.

“Dinner’s ready, help us put everything on the table instead of being all coupley!” Sun Bo demanded, rolling his eyes when he got a whine from Hao Ting before they stood up and laced their fingers together, following Sun Bo towards the dining area where Zhi Gang was waiting. Picking up the delicious smelling plates and wine glasses, all the food got to the table quickly before Zhi Gang grabbed the wine and brought it to the table, placing it right in the middle. Digging into everything once Zhi Gang sat down, the group talked and laughed as they explained events that happened in their lives when they weren’t together. Perking up slightly when he remembered a surprise he had planned for them. Turning his eyes when Sun Bo moved away from him to grab a plastic bag from the kitchen, Zhi Gang shot Hao Ting and Xi Gu a look of confusion before his boyfriend came back, holding small confetti cannons. “I just remembered I got these! Let’s blow them off now! Please, please, pleeaasseee!”

“Woah! Yeah, let’s blow them off!” Hao Ting gasped, reaching for the bag before he took two out, one for him and the other for Xi Gu. Chuckling at the excited look his boyfriend had on his face, Xi Gu smiled towards Zhi Gang when he saw that he was about to protest his boyfriend’s actions. Relenting just this once, Zhi Gang sighed and took his own confetti cannon, shooting a smile to Sun Bo when his grin practically lit up the entire room. Once the bag was empty, Sun Bo tossed it to the side and grabbed the hook of the cannon, aiming it above the table just as everyone did the same. “Let’s do it! One, two..three!”

Pulling the blasters at the same time, everyone let out a gasp as the loud pops sounded in the air before confetti flowed out, coming down on top of them in ribbons of shiny tinsel. Watching the sight with shining eyes, Xi Gu listened to Hao Ting and Sun Bo’s laughter while the confetti fell before Zhi Gang moved into action, trying to shield the food from the falling shiny paper with a smile rising on his face as well. Once all the confetti fell on the ground and around the table, Zhi Gang pulled away and raised his wine glass, gesturing for the others to do so as well. Calling out a quick toast, everyone cheered and gulped their wine down quickly, placing the glasses back on the table as they continued eating, laughter and the clink of glasses and silverware against plates being the only sound in the room. By the time they were all full, it was dark outside and the television specials for the New Year were already playing on the television.

“I’ll help clean up, go sit with Sun Bo while we put everything away,” Xi Gu ordered before he was pulled against Hao Ting’s chest and their noses brushed playfully against each other softly. Pulling away after he got a gentle kiss from Hao Ting, Xi Gu shoved him towards the living room while he moved to help Zhi Gang clean up. When everything was off the table and properly placed in the sink, the two chuckled when they appeared in the living room and saw that their boyfriends had designated spots for them to sit. Cuddling into Hao Ting’s side, Xi Gu buried his head underneath Hao Ting’s neck and sighed when his arm came around and wrapped around his shoulder, holding him close. Doing the same with Sun Bo, Zhi Gang pressed a kiss to his temple as Sun Bo’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him closer. “Today was a lot of fun. Thanks for inviting us over, Sun Bo, Brother Chih-Gang.”

“It was a lot of fun. Thanks for coming over you two,” Zhi Gang mumbled out, keeping his eyes on the television as he felt his eyes beginning to flutter shut with the promise of sleep. Leaning back, the couples cuddled closer and watched with a sleepy gaze as the countdown for the ball began. Holding Xi Gu closer as the countdown hit ten, the group counted down as well and when the ball completely dropped and fireworks began, Hao Ting lifted Xi Gu’s chin and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips while Sun Bo cupped Zhi Gang’s face and pressed their lips together urgently, pulling a sleepy chuckle from his boyfriend’s face. Pulling away at the same time, the couple bumped their foreheads together and sighed out, contentedly. “I love you so much.”

Holding Zhi Gang closer as he buried his face in his hair, Sun Bo hummed with a soft smile on his face while Hao Ting pulled Xi Gu close and wrapped his arms his waist, pressing a kiss to his head. Watching the leftover performing bands, Hao Ting held Xi Gu tightly before he turned to look down, pausing when he noticed that his boyfriend at fallen asleep, clinging to his sweater as he slept. Letting out a small snort from his nose, Hao Ting brought his attention back up to Sun Bo and Zhi Gang before he noticed that they had fallen asleep as well. Sun Bo was holding Zhi Gang close and from what Hao Ting could see, Zhi Gang had his arms around Sun Bo’s waist while he had his head buried in his boyfriend’s chest. Not wanting to wake them all up, Hao Ting turned the volume down on the television and sighed, pulling Xi Gu closer, grinning when he let out a small noise of protest before he nuzzled his face in his neck again. Rubbing Xi Gu’s back softly, Hao Ting sighed and pulled his legs up, tangling them with Sun Bo’s as he carefully shifted his boyfriend around to a more comfortable position for the both of them. Finally getting comfortable, Hao Ting allowed his eyes to flutter shut, as he was the last one in the group to fall asleep, holding Xi Gu close while his legs tangled together with Sun Bo’s. The television still played softly in the background as the lights from the tv screen illuminated the matching soft smiles the group had resting on their faces as they slept, not a care in the world since they had each other.

#history3: make our days count #history 3: modc #hao ting x xi gu #sun bo x zhi gang #fix it fic #early new years present #my writing #please enjoy the fic #<3

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sibillascribbles08 · 4 years

Text

Oh wowie more of this series huh?? Its shit hits the fan time so prepare for pain

Toby touched ground not long after entering the portal, or he assumed he did. He opened it into a rift, not a true location. Odd spaces that existed between universes. The physical state of them was never sure, which made them risky to be in.

He couldn’t stay here long.

This one wasn’t all that dark, the space around him almost looked like glass, reflecting bits of purple and blue as he turned his head. But what was the haze? He studied the smoke. It didn’t seem to move. His gaze trailed down to his feet where more of it seemed to settle.

Then he saw an eye. One yellow eye open and look at him.

Then another. Then ten. Then twenty.

Toby stumbled back as their numbers multiplied across the ground. Then bits of gold appeared, shifting from simple triangles into fangs.

The mouth they formed moved. “So you followed me after all.”

Fear shot up Toby’s spine. “Max?”

The laughter was all around him as the smoke swirled, spinning around one location. Toby watched it go from gas, to liquid, to solid. His friend took shape first before the colors returned to his skin and his hair.

“What, you look surprised.” Max’s teeth were still gold when he grinned. “You can’t turn yourself into whatever you want?”

Toby didn’t want to follow up on that, because it would force him to ask a question he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to. “Max, can we talk about this?”

“We already did that.” The gold in Max’s eyes was glowing. “Then you went and stuffed me in this place. Where even is this?”

“A rift. And you’re not leaving. Not until we settle this.” He swallowed back his nerves. “But I would like to settle it without fighting.”

“What do you want me to do, say I’m sorry?” Max’s tone mocked him. “Sorry for driving a spike through that nindroid’s chest? Are you willing to forgive me just like that?” His grin kept getting wider, crawling past his cheek bones. “I guess that explains why you naively let a bunch of machines live among you.”

Toby took a deep breath. The image of the state Cryptor’s shoulder was in was still fresh in his mind.

“No.” Toby mumbled. “I don’t have to forgive you for hurting Cryptor. I guess first I should forgive you for aiming at me first.”

Max’s smile dropped.

“That hit wasn’t meant for him, was it?” Toby took a step toward him. “Because he shoved me out of the way.”

Max still wasn’t saying anything. Toby stopped in front of him.

“But I want to know why.” Toby’s voice cracked. “Why did you aim an attack like that at me? Would killing me a second time really be that easy for you?”

Max’s pupils shrunk. “Shut up. What about you, huh? What are you going to do if I refuse to stop?”

Toby forced his breathing to steady. “Max, if you threaten my home and the people I love, I’m going to have no choice but to fight back.” He clenched his fist. “But please don’t make it come to that.”

Max studied him for what felt like forever. His expression was neutral. The flecks of gold in his eyes kept moving.

“Max, please. We can sort this out. We can just go our separate ways if that’s better.”

His friend snorted. “Sorry, Toby, but I think your universe was too kind to you.” Once again those eyes started to appear, over Max’s nose, his jaw, his neck. “Being that soft is only going to kill you in the end.”

Toby opened his mouth to protest but had to stumble back when a gold spike shot out of the ground. Then another on his right. On his left. He had to start teleporting in order to dodge them with how fast they were springing up.

Max laughed, the sound echoing through the empty space. His body was distorting again. As if it was a liquid and a gas at the same time. Bits of gold and starlight appeared, only to be joined by more of those eyes and teeth.

“As I said earlier, Toby.” Max shouted. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.” The temperature shifted, from cold to hot. Toby paused and watched as fire crawled up his friend’s arm.

Max’s smile somehow widened further. “Ready to find out?”

The burst of fire that followed was bright, hot. Toby ducked to the side only for something cold to cut across his shoulder. Ice shards? Coming in from his left was a wave of what looked like sea water. Toby’s arm shot out, splitting it in two. Even then it rushed around his ankles, seemingly having nowhere to drain in this space.

Then the water froze over, effectively trapping his feet in place.

“Going to have to move faster than that, Toby.” Max taunted. His still solid hand tossed a few objects in the air before he hurled them in Toby’s direction.

Toby teleported out of the ice, but it didn’t matter. Whatever those were exploded into a burst of light and sound. Toby couldn’t decide if he should cover his eyes from the blinding glow or cover his ears from the ungodly shriek. He swore his head was going to burst.

Something wrapped around his neck and pulled him back. Toby slammed against the ice before he teleported again, though he wasn’t sure where. His ears were ringing. His vision was still blurry. He managed to focus long enough to see all the vines.

“Max.” Toby forced himself back to his feet. “Why do you have all these elements?”

The vines caught fire. The light once again made Toby cringe. He couldn’t be doing this right now. One slip up would be more than enough for Max to kill him.

Of course, his old friend seemed to only being toying with him right now.

“I didn’t tell you the full story, did I?” The flames burned hotter for a second before they vanished, leaving ashes to scatter over the ice. Max seemed to pull the leftover smoke to him. “About my fight with the overlord.”

“Is he the reason you’re acting like this?” Toby’s vision was finally coming back into focus.

“Possibly, just a bit, but make no mistake, I choked that bastard out on day one.” The grey smoke melded into the purple haze that was still emerging from him. “We got stuck together and I won. I won.”

The smoke and haze rushed out. Those spider limbs from earlier emerged, planting themselves into the ice.

“I won!” Max shouted. “I climbed that damned tower by myself. I took him on by myself. And even when I started falling apart I still pulled it together long enough to take him down with me. I won!”

That shout made Toby flinch. The ice around them shattered.

“I won.” He continued. “I defeated him. I shut everything down. Someone who does that should have been a hero, right?”

Toby blinked when he opened his eyes. He looked back his friend, who was barely recognizable at this point apart from one corner of his face.

“They just thought I was another monster.” Gold horns sprouted from his head, from his ears. “And they attacked me, so I fought back.”

Max knelt to the ground. As soon as his hands touched it, fire erupted again. It raced around the sides, forming a circle, like an arena.

“They spat fire at me, so I took it. They tried to drown me so I took that too. Whatever they threw at me I took it and I became stronger.”

Horror crept over Toby’s skin. “Max, you didn’t–”

“What would you have done?” His friend was shouting again. “What would you have done if they all came at you at once? Then again you’re already answering me by standing there with that dumb look on your face.” He snorted as he stood up straight. “I have no idea how you survived this long.”

The purple on his skin shifted into solid gold. Those golden spikes appeared again, jutting out of the ground, heading straight for Toby.

He shook his head, getting rid of the rest of the ringing before his hand snapped up. The spike that headed for him stopped dead, the metal twisting and distorting as it was forced back. Slowly he curled his fingers inward, the metal groaning as it was forced back toward the ground.

“Stop mistaking my hesitation for weakness.” Toby spat. “Sorry my first reaction to a possible threat isn’t to try and destroy it.”

Max’s eyes glowed when he glared. “You think talking to them would have made it stop? And why do I have to forgive them for that? Or all those nindroids for what they did to us? For building a bunch of children that were doomed to die?”

That made Toby pause, though he didn’t lessen his grip. “What are you talking about?”

Max scoffed. "Come on, you know what I'm talking about. All those clones, all of us, never stable enough to last. The only reason you and I did is because of all this crap." He pointed at his arm as it turned to gold, although the metal cracked, dark matter seeping through it.

Toby's heart stopped. "Max... that's not the reason I stayed alive. That's not... in my universe a bunch of those kids are still alive."

His friend stared, his murderous glare shifting into shock. "What? You're lying."

"No, I'm not. After The Overlord died we built a home for them all. There were still some incidents but... over all the rest of them survived. They're still alive."

"You're lying."

"I'm not. If you'd stop this fight I could show you. It was the stress, Max. That's why none of us lasted for so long, because of all the garbage we were put through. You put us in a stable environment then we can thrive just like anyone else."

"You're lying!" Max's voice cracked when he screamed, the volume of it shaking the air. The spikes tried once again to push forward, but Toby held fast. “You're lying. You have to be lying. I didn't have another choice. They would have died anyway."

Realization struck Toby hard. His chest ached. He had to swallow before he could breath again.

"I had to tear it apart, all of it. The Overlord, his followers, that entire factory, they would have died anyway. They would have..."

"Max..."

"Tell me you're lying." The volume of his voice dwindled. It seemed like he would have been crying, but his tears were nothing but dark matter blended with gold dust. "It was the only way I could save them, wasn't it? It was the only way to keep them from going through that."

Toby wanted to cry himself, but he refused. He hated this. How did it come to this? He didn’t want to fight his best friend. Max wasn’t evil he was just lost. He was in pain.

“I’m sorry.” Was all Toby could say. “You thought you were doing the right thing.” The strain from the spikes vanished, and Toby dropped his grip.

“I killed them.”

Toby didn’t reply.

“I killed all of them. Just like I killed you. Just like I killed Brooke. Just like I killed Flare. I didn’t have a choice. It would have been more painful to leave you there.”

“Max.” Toby dared to take a few steps forward. “It’s over. It’s done. Even if you did something terrible you can do something better. I know you could.”

“You can’t just erase the past, Toby.”

“I’m not asking you to erase it.” He argued and kept moving. “I’m asking you to move on. I’m asking you to do better. I don’t want to fight you.” Now his voice was cracking, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. “Please. Just stop. Let’s talk. Let’s fix this. I know my friend is still in there.” He crouched down, trying to look him in the eye. “And I know he doesn’t want to fight me either.”

He hesitated but reached out, gripping Max’s shifting shoulder. It felt like static. “I just want to help you.”

His friend was shaking, still crying, but the tears slowly came to a stop. He lifted his hand, gently holding Toby’s wrist.

“You’re right.” Max said. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Toby didn’t see anything happen. Pain shot through him, starting in his chest. He glanced down to see the gold spike that jutted from Max’s open palm and ran clean through his ribs.

“So I’ll just finish this as quickly as possible.”

#scribbly fics #clone universe #I should go through and make a series tag for these so I can link that but for now hhh #Max arc

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captainchrisfics · 5 years

Text

“Home.”

About: As requested by @peterhollandd (thanks love!), first-person pov narrator accompanies *cough* third wheels *cough* Wanda and Vision to Scotland- just as the fight for the mind stone begins in IW. None other than Captain America *cough* love interest *cough* saves the day.

Please feel free to send in any requests/prompts/anything you’ve been wanting to read- I’d be happy to write them!

Word Count: 3,640

It’s low key traumatic to revisit infinity war but if you haven’t I highly suggest you do- rogue Steve is it for me. That being said, I took some dialogue/scenes directly from the movie and changed others to better fit this story. Hope you enjoy!

I used to think New York was too rainy, then we came to Scotland. The sky was always opening up and pouring everything it’d bottled up onto us as if I needed another thing to be sad about. It was always too cold, too. Even in our old hotel, it was like the feeling always stayed in my bones. On top of that, it was always dusty as if the room hadn’t been touched in a decade even though we’d been staying here for too long, in my opinion at least. I felt bad complaining, hell I could be back in a prison under the ocean, but as I sat staring out the window I wondered just how long all of this would last. Or how much longer I could take it for.

Wanda came into my room, bundled up in her coat as if she was planning on going back out into this weather. Vision trailed behind her, leaning against the doorframe protectively as she approached me. That was another thing that bothered me- the two of them. Initially, I didn’t mind too much. Sure, it was awkward being the third wheel, but as the days turned into months I grew jealous. They got to hold each other, kiss each other, see each other as often as they wanted, a luxury Steve and I didn’t have. Seeing Wanda and Vision together made me miss him so much more.

“We’re going out, we were wondering if you wanted to come?” Wanda asked kindly. She was always so sweet and gentle with me, though it was just another reminder. Wanda acted like she was walking on eggshells around me, even though she made an effort to hide it because she knew exactly how I was feeling.

I tried to protest, saying they should have a night out alone together when really all I wanted was to be by myself. Tonight, more than usual, I was missing him. Wanda knew that, so naturally, she grabbed my hand and pulled me up and out the door.

I was putting on my coat when Vision’s eyes scrunched as he held his hand over his forehead and hissed in pain. Wanda rushed to him worried, asking what was wrong. Her hand raised to where his stone was, a red glow emitting from her palm. Lately, this thing had been happening. Vision claimed the stone was trying to speak to him, but he couldn’t understand it. I claimed we were just cooped up for too long.

I watched as she caressed his face, inches away from his lips, looking at each other with so much intensity and passion. I cleared my throat in an attempt to choke back the tears brimming my eyes, watching what I ached for so badly myself. They looked back at me and took a few steps away from each other. The three of us played some sort of weird cowboy shootout with uncomfortable glances instead of guns. “Let’s get going then,” Wanda suggested. She surely didn’t have to twist our arms for compliance. Vision and I followed her out the door.

After dinner, we were walking down one of the cobblestone streets, still wet from the rain. It was kind of unsettling in the dark, but we didn’t pay much mind. Looking at Wanda with a certain softness I was starting to forget the look of in Steve’s eyes, Vision said, “Do you ever just want to stay here?” Wanda and I stopped in our tracks, each looking at him with confusion.

“That’s not the plan,” I reminded him. Vision stuttered as he tried to defend his serious suggestion as an off-handed remark. “Well, you know,” he started, looking to Wanda for help. She shook her head. “You gave Stark your word,” she said, unable to meet his eyes. I knew she was hoping he would stay anyway.

Vision took a step toward her, holding her face in his hands so delicately. “Wanda…” Vision’s voice was soft, full of so much love. I watched as she stared back at him with eyes as big as the moon. “Well, I uh- I’ll just speak for myself I guess. I, well personally I think we uh-”

“We work,” she finished with a light laugh I hadn’t heard in a while. Vision smiled, overcome with relief. There’s nothing better than that feeling of leaping and having the other catch you. “We do,” he agreed before continuing to plead with her to stay with him.

It was as if they forgot I was even there, and I was caught feeling like I was looking at something I shouldn’t be. Such a tender moment was meant to be private. I tried to avert my eyes, sticking my hands in my pockets and looking at anything other than the two of them. My eyes landed on the convenience store behind them, training on the television in the window.

“Guys…” I said quietly at first, not believing my eyes. It was tuned to the news, showing a scene with streets I recognized so well it could only be New York. The story was just breaking, but still, they showed the city in flames, two creatures I couldn’t recognize standing among the wreckage. “Guys!” I shouted now, grabbing their attention and pointing to the screen. A massive craft dwarfed the skyscrapers it had landed in the middle of, causing destruction all around it and bringing God knows what.

The three of us gaped at the screen in shock. “What is that?” Wanda whispered, almost to herself as if she was trying to cope. “What the stone has been warning me about,” Vision remarked with a resigned voice, already preparing for the worst. The shot changed to a woman sitting at a news desk, Tony’s picture appearing next to her. We didn’t need to hear what she was saying to know what was going on. Stark’s worst nightmare was coming true.

My mind immediately went to Steve. That reckless idiot with no concept of a will to live or a mild understanding of self-preservation probably jumped right into the fight without thinking, facing an enemy we couldn’t even conceive the strength or abilities of. Even compared to the super soldier, the being on the screen was enormous. No, I told myself. He’d made it this far. He had to be alright. Steve had to be okay, I couldn’t allow myself to think otherwise.

“I have to go,” Vision said, kissing Wanda’s hand before stepping away from her. As nice as it was to daydream of a world without all of this, we all knew we had a responsibility we couldn’t ignore. I watched as she reached out to him, frozen in her spot. “No Vision, maybe we shouldn’t go. If this is true, maybe we shouldn’t-” Wanda pleaded, trying to remain in the wistfulness of a reality we just weren’t meant to have.

“I-” Vision started, before a sharp object ripped through his middle. Wanda screamed, but it sounded so far away. It was completely unexpected, in our state of shock it seemed so unreal. We watched helplessly as his human appearance melted away, his body being lifted into the air and tossed aside like a ragdoll. The thing responsible snarled at the two of us with an ugly, purple face. Wanda reacted before I could, summoning a red ball of energy. She aimed at the being responsible for hurting Vision when something else jumped behind her.

“Wanda!” I yelled, too late. I tried to warn her, but before she could fire she was blasted through the storefront window. I ran at the thing, pulling the guns I always had on me, knowing they’d probably be only so effective against this thing’s space armor. Before I knew it, the guy that attacked Vision used his scepter to strike my side.

When I caught my breath and stood again, the two loomed over Vision who laid helplessly on the street. The bigger one picked at his forehead with the sharp end of his weapon, trying to dig the stone from its place as Vision screamed. Enraged more than I had ever seen her before, Wanda summoned another ball of light. I took aim, in case they noticed. She fired at them, stunning them if only for moments so she could fly herself and Vision out of sight. I shot at the two a couple times in the hopes of incapacitating them, if only a little more.

I took off running towards the alley I saw Wanda land in, helping her carry a stumbling Vision once I met up with them. “What the fuck are they?” I asked in disbelief as we dropped Vision to the ground. “I-I don’t know,” he said breathlessly. “But the blade, it stopped me from phasing.” Wanda leaned over him, trying to fix the gash in his stomach that throbbed with golden light asking, “Is that even possible?” Vision shook his head, muttering something about how it shouldn’t be.

As she tried to repair Vision, I stood over Wanda’s back, acting as a lookout and our first line of defense if those fuckers found us. As quickly as I could aim, the bigger one came barreling down the alley. I managed to take a few shots that just deflected off of its armor. The alien just lunged over me and scooped Vision up effortlessly. They were gone in the time it took us to blink.

He crushed Vision up against a few buildings, dust and pieces of brick crumbling around them. Wanda screamed, so distraught after watching her love be beaten by a force we could barely reckon with. It occurred to me that there was one missing.

As the alien’s weapon collided with the column she had been hiding behind, I pulled Wanda away. The two of them struggled against each other, seeming to forget I was there. I felt so fucking useless, but this wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Wanda was thrown across the cobblestone, using her powers to break her fall. I realized why she was only going after Wanda- to use her against Vision. I wasn’t the target, they weren’t anticipating me.

I shot at the one who was trying to attack Wanda after losing sight of Vision and the other alien, hoping to be significant enough of an annoyance to draw its attention away from my friend. The alien turned to me, shooting a beam of blue light my way. I narrowly missed the attack by whipping behind a column, though the smell of my singed hair didn’t go unnoticed.

Before I was attacked again, Wanda returned fire. I ran toward her before the alien could retaliate so it could at least be two against one. As our opponent ran at us, Vision screamed from a nearby rooftop. Without hesitation, Wanda picked the alien up with her powers and threw her into a car and airlifted her and me to where the sound came from.

The cloaked figure leaned over Vision, clawing the stone from him with the tip of its spear again. Wanda and I shot at the alien simultaneously. Whether or not we were doing any damage was one thing- we could only hope to draw his attention away from his objective. With the enemy blasted off the side of the building, Wanda grabbed Vision and I. In an attempt to make an escape, she flew the three of us above the city, only to be hit by a blue beam of electricity.

We went sliding as soon as our bodies hit the pavement of the train station, but once we stopped Wanda and I both ran to where Vision lay, groaning in agony. I’d never seen him hurt like this, he always appeared to be invincible. We tried to lift Vision, but he couldn’t stand. “We have to go,” Wanda pleaded, but it was no use and Vision knew it. “Please,” he begged. “You two have to get out of here.” We froze for a moment considering we were clearly unable to leave, but it wasn’t safe to stall. “You asked me to stay,” Wanda reasoned, caressing Vision’s cheek. Even in the middle of this chaos, I silently prayed to whoever may be listening that Steve was alright. “I’m staying.”

Suddenly, the aliens burst through the glass ceiling of the train station. As we huddled together on the floor, they approached us with their weapons pointed in our direction. Wanda and I stood in front of Vision. She summoned her energy as I cocked my guns. I heard a train passing through and, if I wasn’t in this current circumstance, I would’ve thought how hilarious it would’ve been to see this scene from their perspective. It was completely random- two women trying to defend a computer-man from aliens twice the size of us with weapons we didn’t even understand. Instead, I was thinking about how I was about to go out in a blaze of bullets.

Then, the train’s horn blared throughout the station. For a brief moment, our attention was taken from our own tense moment. Then I saw him. Between the train cars, a shadowy figure stood watching us. I knew exactly who it was, almost instinctively. Even as I felt like I was about to die, just his presence seemed to offer some relief.

One of the aliens threw her electric spear at him, but he caught it without a problem. Steve walked into the light with a war-hardened look on his face. His hair was longer and his beard had grown more scraggly since the last time I’d seen him, but he was still my Steve nonetheless. If I didn’t have people trying to kill us about three feet away from me, I don’t know if I could’ve stopped myself from bursting into tears. Actually, maybe the fact that I was about to be killed was good enough.

Before we could process any of it, Sam flew in, knocking the blue thing right off her feet and smashing her through a restaurant window. Then, Steve threw the electric spear at Nat, who slid in from nowhere. She began dueling with the scepter-wielding alien and I was never more grateful to see any of them in my life. I was used to being the hero, but in that, I forgot how much of a relief being saved can be. Steve joined her, snatching the scepter and defending Nat from the other alien.

Watching them fight made my heart clench in my chest. As I watched the alien swing at Steve, I think I stopped breathing. Usually, when you’re in the thick of it, Steve and I didn’t have time to worry about each other. Every split second was spent playing defense or offense depending on the circumstance, we couldn’t stop to think of each other or else that would be it. We protected each other, but we never worried about the other since it was too much of a distraction. Now, sitting defenseless on the sidelines as he battled it out with an alien I knew to be so powerful, it became apparent just how close Steve was to being taken from me.

I wanted to make a run for it and jump in the fray out of a sheer need to protect him, but I knew I couldn’t. I knew if I tried to help, it would only distract Steve. He’d prioritize protecting me above all else, even if it meant getting himself hurt in the process and I couldn’t stand that. Plus, I had to defend Wanda and Vision. She huddled over him, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe through sobs and her hands glowing red. Vision didn’t look good, Wana needed to focus on fixing him up rather than watching over her shoulder so I stood guard between them and the fight.

He fought her until Sam swooped in, kicking her toward the body of the other alien. The three of our friends crowded around them, weapons at the ready. “We don’t want to hurt you, but we will,” Natasha threatened in a level voice. The alien with blue hair seemed to snarl at her as it said, “You’ll never get the chance again.” Suddenly, almost as if it was taken straight from an alien abduction movie, a blue light shot down from the sky. It encased the two aliens before sucking that up, taking the scepter right from Steve’s hands with them.

Once they were gone, the three of our friends walked toward us with a purpose. Wanda and I still stood protectively over Vision, our adrenaline still coursing through our veins, making us ready to fight in a moment’s notice. I couldn’t believe we’d come that close. As much as my heart wanted me to run toward Steve, professing some sort of undying love and enveloping him in my arms like in some cheesy story, I couldn’t believe the fight was over. I couldn’t put my defenses down yet in case they came back.

As soon as he reached me though, Steve pulled me into a hug. He crushed me against his strong chest like he was trying to make me more of a part of him than I already was. It was as if Steve tore down every wall I had up by each brick instantaneously. I melted into his arms, wrapping my arms around his waist and squeezing him as tight as I could just to prove he was real. I don’t know if it was the relief of still being able to breathe or the overwhelming sense of security he offered, but I cried into his chest so hard it would have been embarrassing if it didn’t feel like it was only Steve and me in the entire world. He kissed the top of my head over and over, whispering that it was finally okay. I was safe. We were together. That was all I needed.

I pulled away from his chest and held my face between my hands. I kissed him as hard as I could, causing Steve to stumble back a little. He rested his hands on the small of my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist, deepening our kiss. It was scratchier than I remembered because of the beard and both of our lips were embarrassingly chapped, but it still Steve. I missed how he tasted and how he smelled and so much more about him. I pulled away for air, staying only inches from Steve just to try to be as close to him as possible. Steve smiled at me with so much soft love in his eyes and I’m sure I was beaming back at him. Kissing Steve was always like watching fireworks on the 4th of July- so familiar and electrifying at the same exact time.

Sam clasped a hand on each of our backs, pulling us from our own world. He nodded at Steve with a tight-lipped smile like an apology. “We should get going,” Sam said. Steve wrapped an arm around me, not willing to let me go anytime soon, but agreed nonetheless.

Vision had a golden glow pulsing throughout his body, but he was able to stand with some assistance from Natasha and Wanda. “Thank you, Captain,” he said through uncomfortable grunts. Steve looked at him with an emotion I couldn’t place in his eyes. “Let’s get you on the jet,” he finally said with the hint of a smile.

When we took off, I just hoped that we could get as far away from Scotland as humanly possible. Maybe Australia would do? Steve and I sat on the opposite side of Wanda and Vision, watching as she continued to try to fix the wounds he’d sustained in the fight. Steve wrapped one arm around my chest, holding my hand with his. It was nice to just be together in the closest thing to peace I knew we would have for a while, even if it was only for the duration of the jet ride.

“I thought we had a deal,” Nat said in a stern voice, watching Scotland fade into the distance as the jet closed. She was referencing her arrangement with Wanda and Vision- in exchange for them being able to see each other, they promised to keep in touch and stay out of trouble. You could see how those expectations hadn’t necessarily been met. Wanda apologized, that was all she could really do. Steve sat silently, which wasn’t like him. I couldn’t blame him for being contemplative.

I adjusted myself against Steve so I was almost laying on top of him. I snuggled as far into him as I could, laying my head on his chest so I could hear his heartbeat. It was steady and reassuring and Steve- everything I needed right now. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head over and over. We both knew we wouldn’t get many more moments like this, at least not any time soon, so we were cherishing them. Some of our sweetest moments have been shared jetting between a rock and a hard place.

“Where to, Cap?” Sam asked from the pilot’s seat. Steve shifted in his seat slightly. I watched him intently, just trying to take him in after not seeing him for so long. His hair had grown long enough for him to tuck behind his ears, I imagined I’d like twirling it between my fingers. His beard was longer and darker than I remembered. I think it made his eyes look bluer, which I didn’t even know was possible. He stared off into the distance before he looked back at me, smiling when he saw that I was already staring at him.

“Home.”

Tagged:

@patzammit

#captain america #captain america fic #captain america one shot #captain america fanfiction #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers one shot #captain america x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #imagine chris evans #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x reader #let's hope this narrator was saved in the snap bc that'd really be tragic

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awakenedrp · 4 years

Photo

IVELLA EIRTAE HAS JOINED THE STARS

THEY ARE A 27 YEAR OLD CREW MEMBER THEY ARE A HUMANOID FROM THE PLANET CORUSCANT (PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:) aside from the derelict itself, her body takes the shape of a repurposed, custom protocol droid with distinctly feminine features. a dark, steel grey in color, this platform is not intended for combat and only leaves the ship when necessary. her body can only leave the derelict for a few hours at a time ( within a certain transmission range ) before needing to recharge.

KNOWN TRAITS:

+ inquisitive, bubbly, clever - impulsive, reckless, impatient

BIO: THE UNIVERSE DEMANDS BALANCE; ARE YOU OF THE DARK, OR THE LIGHT?

3. did you get left behind?

the derelict is quiet. nothing but the humdrum whirring of the engine behind her walls, the flickering lights of the dashboard—once more, she is alone. almost. a few of the crew elect to stay behind, but those who do care little for the vastness of the galaxy. she envies them.

her platform is left on the bridge, slumped in the secondary pilot chair—a temporary sleep state. the planet they travel to is hot, red, and teeming with illegal activity. her platform would be more likely to be scrapped for credits than be of any assistance. and so it remains, golden eyes no longer glowing, staring lifeless, a dull void. the windows of the ship soon follow suit, visibility dimmed to zero, a black tint darkening the glass. there is little to be seen outside. as one would expect, being left in a hangar.

a silent sunset fills her senses then, moving images, played and replayed—recordings from a distant planet. it morphs into a soaring vision, like a bird above bright waters. a green landscape dotted with snow-topped mountains. she’s acutely aware of everything. even loss.

from her external cameras, she sees the captain rise above all the rest, striding long past the group, his coat a dark trail behind him. she watches until he’s out of sight, out of range, ducking beneath a large archway. where he goes, she can’t follow.

you should’ve let me die.

the images play again and again.

2. can you remember your death?

when she comes to, there’s an ache in her jaw that feels like hell, the taste of blood in her mouth—she’s laid on her side, hands curled into loose fists, rough stone under her cheeks. bleary blinks to clear her vision: she’s in some kind of room. large, empty, tall wooden columns. a warehouse, maybe. a boot nudges into her ribs and she groans, a sharp pain jolting her senses. a mutter above her, but she can’t make sense of much more, floating in and out, in, out, where am i?

the stream of light spills in from the far end of the room as the doors hiss open. she squints her eyes against the moving shadows: three figures, one in white, two with blaster rifles. a sudden cold grips her. not because of the weapons, but because of the—

“doctor,” she rasps.

the man in question looks grim. a frown tugging at the already deep-set lines in his face. but he doesn’t gasp, doesn’t reprimand. he did this to her, after all.

“vella,” he says quietly. he draws closer to her body on the ground, crouching next to her. “do you have it?”

“wha—”

“the memory chip. the research,” he says more insistently. “like i asked.”

her brows furrow in confusion. with what little strength she has left, she attempts to roll over, push herself onto her hands. a click behind her. a blaster aimed at her head. no words needed.

vella collapses back onto the ground, turning her head to face the doctor. she opens her mouth—

“i don’t understand,” she whispers. the blue light of the holo barely illuminates the dark room she sits in, huddled on the floor with her comm resting in the palm of her hand. the flickering image of the doctor doesn’t break eye contact, speaking as though they were still on his research station, as though months and months of silence in hiding hadn’t separated them. “i thought you were dead, i—what happened to you? how did you find me? is anyone else ali—”

“i went underground.” he interrupts her somewhat impatiently, eyes darting to a framed holo of his wife and daughter. a man with a blaster looks on at their little meeting, out of sight. “i made contact with the others,” he says slowly. “arden, jashra, kalen.” all dead. “they’re alive, vella. but the others…” he trails off, partially for effect, partially out of genuine regret.

she stares, chewing her lip as she listens in silence, a fluttering apprehension blooming in her chest. “why were we attacked, doctor? who were they? why—” she chokes on her words, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. why did everyone have to die?

the doctor sighs heavily. “they’re dangerous people, vella. people who want to use our work for their own material gain. it’s why i split the research,” he mutters. this part, at the very least, is the truth. “so they’d never have all of it.”

the man behind him smirks in amusement.

“listen,” the doctor says urgently, leaning forward. “i don’t know how secure this commlink is. let’s meet and we can talk more in person.”

“you asked me to meet you.” vella’s voice cracks as the doctor looms over her, blasters ready in the distance. “for what?”

“i’m sorry, vella” he mutters, gaze roving over her form. “it was either you or them. i tried to protect you but i—i need to continue my work. i need what’s on that chip. for my family’s sake.”

the mercenary behind her jerks his head. “search her.”

the doctor’s eyes flick to his face before he does as he’s told, poking and prodding at her pockets. one little chip for a life. “when i told you to run i meant it. i-i never wanted this to happen—” he stammers, mouth falling shut as soon as his fingers curl around the edges of his chip. but it doesn’t matter now. he rises up, hands trembling.

the mercenary doesn’t blink. “it’s intact?”

vella looks on, still splayed out on the ground as the doctor fumbles with his holopad, scrolling rapidly through the files. he’s with them. he’s with them. he’s working with them.

“yes,” he breathes. the doctor pivots on his heel. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs one last time, glancing at her form over his shoulder. and then he’s gone. a thin trail of tears run down her cheeks as her eyes slip shut.

a click of a blaster. no words needed.

is this the end?

bang.

1. i want my life back

when she comes to, there’s a distinct lack of feeling. it’s like she’s floating, boundless, with no body.

“i… think it worked.”

the voice is warped, muddled. like she’s dunked underwater.

with no body.

and then it all comes rushing in. the distinct lack of feeling. hyperaware, aware of nothing at all. the way her mind feels stretched and contorted, the whirring of the engine, the thudding behind the walls, the crackle, the distorted bird’s eye view—the tops of their heads the tops of their heads not their faces their heads—

“vella.” a voice cuts through her rising panic. strong. familiar. tinged with worry. “can you hear me?”

she screams, silent, soundless behind the console.

and the derelict’s systems go haywire, lights flashing red to blue to—nothing.

the ship plunges into darkness.

0. i want myself back

your research worked. what was left of it, anyway. that’s how they explain it, later on. we saved your mind, but… without a body, the derelict was our only option.

transcendence. who would’ve thought she’d be the first? the doctor would be ecstatic.

you should’ve let me die.

#awakened ::: acceptance #lee sungkyung

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