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austarus · 3 years

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HR Wells x Reader - Reversal of Denouement

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes for being my beta reader.

Word Count: 8251

MASTERLIST

A low groan left HR's lips. His body felt numb, his chest ached - tingled as his heart beats steadily. Is it beating? The darkness of his eyelids eased the stinging coming from his mind – it wasn’t so bright. The headache formed there. His body screamed at him as the novelist made the slightest of movement. His left shoulder in particular had protested in desperate agony. He couldn’t move it very much, the area succumbed to restraints of some sort. HR’s throat felt raw as his body throbbed, the blood coursing meticulously through his blood vessels. The sound of a soft voice greeted his ears, but his eyes refused to open.

"I... you, HR... even if... see it." The voice was so familiar, so gentle. So sweet. "Should... better." A drop of water hit his numbed hand, static still prominent there from the little movement his body had done. “I wish…” The dark-haired doppelganger could only understand fragments of what the speaker was saying. He felt a pressure on his hand, tender skin holding onto his before something tickled his forehead. Feather-light. What was it? Who was it? A few moments passed and he heard nothing, the novelist only assumed that the voice’s owner had left. He didn’t want to be alone right now though, not with the darkness.

It had become unbearable.

Since... Since when did…? How...? Oh. Right. Savitar... Am I dead? Is this where spirits wait for their turn to pass into their designated afterlife? Have I really...? Events from earlier resurfaced to his mind, his senses coming together. Right, had to protect Iris. For Barry – it was my fault Savitar had gotten to her. My big mouth. Even if Barry didn't really see me as a helpful friend. At least... At least I proved Savitar wrong, who ironically is a version of Barry. That's hella twisted. He huffed out a breath before venturing back into the calmness of sleep. Maybe a little more rest will help?

***

HR cracked an eye open: this time, harsh filtered light had greeted him. The novelist grunted in pain, adjusting himself slightly to assess where he was. What day was it? What was the time? How long have I been here? A yawn left his lips this time, his throat and mouth as dry as a desert.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up?” HR’s eyes met Cisco’s, who stood with a tablet in hand. “How’s sleeping beauty feeling?”

The Wells doppelganger cleared his throat. “Like I’ve gotten assaulted by an Amtrack bus, and not the good kinds.” HR’s baby blue eyes scanned the room, landing on the flower vase that was set on a table near him. Blue forget-me-knots and pink hydrangeas stood proudly in their vases, nurtured well. HR felt his heart swell, his eyes not daring to leave the delicate petals that accented the med bay in better tones. Cisco handed him a cup of water to which HR downed it immediately.

“Amtrack does trains.”

“Not on my Earth, Francisco.” The author couldn’t help but ask, his eyes lingering on the flowers once more. “Did Tracy bring those?”

Cisco pursed his lips, an odd look present on his face. He wanted to tell HR, but… “No. Um, she didn’t.” Tracy had been visiting, though it had become some sort of a nuisance to all her complaining at this point. She hadn’t even known HR for that long, anyway.

“Oh?” His shoulders dropped subtly in disappointment. “They’re beautiful, I was just wondering and…”

“Let’s just say, a special someone’s been… dropping by and bringing a new flower each day. That’s all you’re getting from me, Aurora.” Cisco reasoned with the Wells doppelganger. The mechanical genius knew, but it wasn’t his place to say. It killed him, but… “I wouldn’t move around too much, if I were you. You’ve got a fractured shoulder and that chest wound. I’ve been told to relay the message that you’re to be on strict bed rest until that shoulder further heals.” HR lowered his gaze to see the cross-body sling. He clenched his slinged hand and unclenched it to bring some feeling into the limb.

“What about my chest?”

“Miraculously, that’s been healing really well since day one.” Cisco kept the talk real, showing the injured doppelganger the schematics and pictures. “You got lucky that it missed your heart by a centimeter.” A stab wound like that should have… I wonder if she knows that I know.

HR blinked at the seriousness in his injury, the looming idea of death from his decision. “How long was I out?”

“A week and a half.”

“What?” HR’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I-”

“HR!” Tracy’s sudden voice pierced the room, stunning Cisco and triggering an ache in HR’s head. The grad scientists shuffled over to him, both forgetting that Cisco was in the room. “HR, my love, how are you? Are you feeling okay? Is there any pain?” He continued checking his friend’s vitals and adjusting dosages to the IV and morphine administered – as per your request. The room was growing ever louder with HR and Tracy. Tracy embraced him, minding his injuries as she continued to fuss over him. It made the Wells writer smile, yet… his heart didn’t swell as much as it used to.

Odd.

Cisco sent you a quick text while the two were preoccupied, but you were already at the Labs. You stopped just outside the entrance, the wall and dimly light hallway obscuring you from who remained in the med bay. They wouldn’t be able to see you from where you stood. A shaky breath left you as you clutched the Freesia flower in hand. Your heart shriveled in your chest as you backtracked. Hearing his voice is enough. After all, with Tracy around you couldn’t be near him – those dirty and hateful looks she’d send you. Best to keep my distance, I guess. You couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him though, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart and would never reciprocate your love. You pushed down the lump in your throat. Hastily, you sent Cisco a text to check on the flowers. Silently, you trailed away from the med bay and to the upper levels of STAR Labs. I wonder if he liked the flowers. Standing at such altitude with the wind blowing lightly had calmed you a bit. Looking down at the flower, you gripped it tightly before you began to pick off the petals one by one. The little moments you had with the goofy novelist surfaced to the forefront of your mind with each petal you held. Your little curious escapades. The little talks. The nights you’d visit him when Tracy wasn’t around.

“He loves me, he loves me not,” You murmured, a stray tear trickled down your cheek. The freesia symbolizes unconditional love and honor. “He loves me, he loves me not,” Your voice cracked as more tears fell. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

***

A frown presented itself on HR’s lips as he tilted his head to crack his neck. The crack relieved him tremendously. It didn’t make sense. The novelist mused to himself, setting aside the current chapter draft he was working on. The voice I heard was… different. It didn’t sound like Tracy’s. HR couldn’t get that voice out of his mind – the tenderness that was laced in the tone of that voice. Nothing like the slight shrill in Tracy’s. He eyed the flowers once more that day, their presence was prominent. If Tracy hadn’t brought those, then who had?

The team had helped situate HR in his room in order to vacate the med bay should another imminent event occur. He had overheard Cisco tell Wally that you were preoccupied with something in Star City – a bit of disappointment twinged inside him. HR had taken up doing bits of physical therapy for the rest of his body without moving his shoulder as much. His shoulder and arm remained in a crossbody sling. The flowers sat on his bedside counter; he tended to them as best as he could with the limited movement he had. Tracy protested that they don’t need to be around, but the novelist was vehement on keeping the plants. HR won’t deny the fact that he had gotten annoyed several times with her around when he needed thinking space for his writing. He couldn’t write with noise and nonsensical chatter, especially if it’s mainly coming from someone who doesn’t want to really listen to his input. She’d go on and on about her scientific research and such, but wouldn’t hear a word from HR regarding his writing. The longer the novelist was confined to his room for rest, the more he had time to think – to contemplate. Yes, he liked Tracy, but… it just seemed that she didn’t really see HR. She does all the talking; she doesn’t really ask about how I feel about things or ask me about my life, even things about Earth-19… It’s like she doesn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face. It’s not even my face that Tracy sees, just Randolph’s. Was I too quick to jump at the first person who showed interest in me? Had I rushed into ‘forever’ with her?

He tabled those thoughts for now. HR reached for his laptop; one hand opened it to start it up. While the device loaded, he grabbed his black-clear glasses and set them on his face. If anyone saw him as such, they wouldn’t be able to tell the physical difference between him and his handsome, yet grumpy doppelganger. Except for the eyebrow scar, but that was obscured by the glasses. HR did a couple of searches with a concentrated look. Surely, it was the person with that… angel-like voice.

“Hydrangeas,” HR whispered as his eyes skimmed over the text that had popped up. “The hydrangea represents gratitude, grace and beauty. It also radiates abundance because of the lavish number of flowers and the generous round shape. Its colors symbolize love, harmony and peace.” The Wells doppelganger scrolled further. “Pink hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions.” Interesting. HR continued his research, glancing at the other flower type that resting in the vase. “Forget-me-nots symbolize true love and respect. When you give someone these tiny blooms, it represents a promise that you will always remember them and will keep them in your thoughts. They are also considered a symbol of fidelity and faithfulness.” A particular link caught his eye, he clicked on it. The novelist read to himself the text once more, “Based on Christian lore, the story about forget-me-nots is that God was walking in the Garden of Eden. He saw a blue flower and asked it its name. The flower was a shy flower and whispered that he had forgotten his name. God renamed the flower as forget-me-not saying that He will not forget the flower.”

HR swallowed thickly; contrary to popular belief around here, he wasn’t stupid. Sure, he wasn’t a science-based genius, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an expert on other aspects of life and had basic common sense. The author was emotionally intelligent and intact with the world around him. These flowers weren’t picked out on accident. But who would do that? Who doesn’t want me to forget about them? The dark-haired man shook his head slightly as he shut his laptop. A surge of sadness welled inside him at the notion of ‘being forgotten’. Who had he done that to? He’d get to the bottom of this mystery in due time. Right now, I need to jog my memory on what I was writing. A hand found a rough draft paper, his eyes scanned over the words he had typed out. His brows creased as the written notes he’d made on the paper as well. (Y/N) … I had… What had I been writing about again? The novelist read each line, each note he had made no drafts and scratch paper.

The hairs at the back of his neck stood up as realization hit him the more he had read on. The drafts, the notes, all of it – the little novel he had been writing regarding his adventures. But this particular part of his story – the ‘angel’ in his story. The one who stuck by him since coming here, the one who had given him a safe space… And the one he hadn’t seen since waking up. How could he forget? HR lowered the paper; his eyes became half-lidded as guilt shot through him. Before Barry had gone to the future and gotten hints of Tracy with her Speed Bazooka, HR had been working on his book. A book that he had pushed off to stick with Tracy and help in any way that he can to make the speed weapon possible. He had gotten distracted from doing the things he loves. A few conjectures arose in his mind as he slipped his glasses off, one arm end pressed to his lips. His heart hammered into his chest; you were among the last faces he had seen before passing out that night.

The irony. How could I forget that (Y/N) was the ‘angel’ in my story?

***

“Look at you, up and at ‘em.” Cisco strolled into the lounge with a cheeky grin. The mechanical genius didn’t take HR for granted anymore, not with the stunt he pulled. No, Cisco willingly checked up on him – not just for you, but for himself. HR had truly become one of his close friends in the end, especially with all the advice about Gypsy. “What are you cooking up this time?”

“Just an omelet with a side of bacon and toast, Francisco,” HR turned to the mechanical engineer who continued to tinker away at the schematics to get Barry out of the Speedforce. He offered Cisco some with a gesture only for the scientist to politely decline. “I haven’t seen (Y/N) anywhere. Um, is she also…?”

“Oh, you know how she’s like. Either up in the vents or chilling in her birds’ nest on the roof. And on that note, our resident hummingbird has become quite the firecracker.”

HR raised an eyebrow at his friend. “How so?”

“She punched Savitar square in the face then decked him multiple times over when Barry brought him in. Harry had to be the one to pull her away – well, more like carry her away kicking and screaming bloody murder at him. It sounded badass; wish I had been there to see it.”

The Wells doppelganger gritted his teeth at the mental image of Harry carrying you – touching you. The thought ruffled his feathers for some reason. HR expertly masked his irritation, turning the stove off and assembling the food on his plate. “Why?”

“Because he hurt you, HR.”

“…”

“He almost killed you.” And that was unforgivable, especially to her. “We almost lost you. She almost lost you.”

A rough sigh escaped HR as Cisco had sent him a knowing look before exiting the STAR Labs lounge. The Earth-19 man chewed on the inside of his cheek. Only a fool would misunderstand Cisco’s subtle intentions. HR knew what he had to do – he’d been reflecting on his time here, thinking about the people around him, about the relationships he’s formed. The novelist glanced outside – the sun shined, the birds chirped, and the trees rustled with the wind.

And the world continues to move on.

***

“When are you going to tell him?”

“…” You tensed at the abrupt voice. You snapped your head up, eyes darting to find Cisco approaching you with pocketed hands in his gray-black jacket. He wore a Bulbasaur shirt. The clouds surged by with the intensity of the breeze. Your hair blew over your shoulders slightly. Tilting your head, you turned back to watch the city. Days had passed and you refused to see HR, content on what Cisco had been telling you. He’d been recovering tremendously well, but… you didn’t really want to hear about what he and Tracy were up to. It wounded you. “Tell who, what?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Ms. I’m-going-to-put-my-feelings-in-a-box.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ohohohoho, no. I am tired of the love eyes, the lingering gazes, the pining. It ends.” Your best friend came to sit down next to you with that frustrated look on his face. “I know you have powers.” Your heart stopped in your chest at his accusation. “I know you used your powers to heal HR.” You bit down on your lip, not wanting to validate his statement. Cisco saw “I analyzed the wounds, looked at his healing at a microscopic level. I’m not Caitlin, but even I can pick up a few things. His cells were excelled to heal, but there were residues of your genetic markers at the wound point. You stitched his wounds together, cell-by-cell. My point is: why didn’t you say anything? Your powers are a-”

“-A curse.”

“What?”

“They’re a curse.” You threw a hard look at Cisco, making sure your hands wouldn’t touch him. “I can’t be playing God, Cisco. And… it’s unpredictable, volatile. I could either heal the life in my hands or take it away. I could rip someone ‘cell-by-cell’, Cisco. There’s no ‘in between’, not this time. He got lucky with my powers. He got lucky I didn’t make things 100% irreversible.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Cisco eyed the gloves you wore; it wasn’t the season for leather gloves.

“Because I didn’t want to give anyone false hope.”

“You don’t want to give yourself false hope, you mean.”

“…I can’t even heal a plant, Cisco. No matter how hard I tried, it wilted further. It’s a curse.”

“That’s not guaranteed every time, you know. It takes practice – discipline to get your powers to work with you instead of for you.” He nudged your shoulder with his, turning his gaze to the flock of birds drifting through the wind. “You know, he broke up with Tracy.”

“Ok?”

“Happened a week ago. She didn’t take it well and let me tell you. Tracy Brand was livid – the rage and yelling were off the charts. I think she has Harry beat. I knew it wasn’t going to last anyway, it was too superficial to begin with.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to sound uninterested, but deep down you were relieved. You heard a little ring in your ear. You wondered…

“She’s gone, won’t be coming here anymore.

“Ok.”

“So, go make your move.”

You turned abruptly to face him. “Cisco, have you thought that maybe HR doesn’t want to dive into a relationship right away? That… maybe he needs space to focus on himself?” All were things you had contemplated for yourself before.

“And what better way to do that than with a new roommate.”

“Excuse me?”

“Surprise, you’re getting a temporary roommate while we fully fix up things around the labs. I volunteered you since you have the space and the patience to deal with HR.” Your blood froze in your veins.

“Francisco Ramon, I am going to-”

“-Thank me, you’re going to thank me.” He had already breached away before you had the chance to strangle him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the idea of HR living with you, even if it was a temporary living arrangement. You scolded your heart for beating loudly in your chest. One hand gripped tightly to your other. An audible sigh escaped you as your mind played with the idea.

Shit, what am I going to do?

***Day 1***

Cisco blew out an exhausted breath, setting down another box on top of a box in the guest room. You and the mechanical genius had been breaching back and forth with HR’s things as said novelist was crippled. His arm would take about another four weeks to heal. About 20 percent of shoulder fractures are displaced and may require some type of manipulation to restore normal anatomy. Occasionally the rotator cuff muscles are injured or torn at the same time as the fracture. Fortunately for HR, his rotator cuff muscles weren’t as damaged. This can further complicate the treatment. Therefore, in that time, HR would just be handling the lighter stuff, bless his heart. The novelist entered the room with his black backpack slung over his functioning shoulder – it was the last thing that he could carry.

“I think there’s one more box left,” HR pointed with his thumb towards his back direction, the breach closing behind him.

“I’ll go get it, not a problem. Why don’t you two get started on unpacking, huh?” HR shrugged with one shoulder and stepped away to set his bag down by the bed. Cisco threw a cheeky look your way when HR had his back turned, his eyebrows wiggling. ‘Have fun love birds,’ the scientist had mouthed at you. You flicked him off with a deadpanned look. Instantly you dropped it when the Wells doppelganger turned as Cisco snickered before he breached away. He gave you a confused look, but you waved it off.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For allowing me to stay obviously. And for all the help since I’m, well, a bit tangled up at the moment.”

He was referring to the cross-body sling that clung onto him like a spider. HR rubbed the back of his neck, and you didn’t miss the way his bicep flexed at the motion in that gray short-sleeve shirt. Calm the fuck down, it’s just a toned muscle. You’ve seen things like that before. The puppy-like smile HR sent you had your cheeks warming up. The gentle smile that made your heart melt all over again. You cleared your throat as you reached for a box. “It’s no big deal, HR.” Undoing the tape seal with scissors, you opened the box- and the first thing you see are a pair of handcuffs accompanied by a silky black blindfold.

“What’s in the box?”

A little noise left you as you shut the flaps of the box, trying to seal it again. The flaps remained downward in the box. “Nope, nothing. Just some clothes here. I’m going to get that one box from the living room.” You had backtracked right into the door, your nose throbbed in response at the collision. “Ow,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing the skin.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine,” your response was quick, but not rude. A deep chuckle made its way to your ears as you scrambled out the room, your heart hammering in your chest. Your thoughts scolded you for being so awkward and flustered around him. Be cool, just chill out… The man you’re hopelessly in love with is just living with you temporarily, it’s not like anything will amount from this. You picked up the last box in the living room, hoping that just clothes would be in here and not anymore kink toys. I mean… I have toys, too. AW SHIT, I HAVE TO HIDE THEM!

HR’s eyes never left you as you made your panicked exit. He let out a little breath before shuffling over to the box you had been attending to. Immediately, he face-palmed hard when he had opened it with one hand. His face felt impossibly hot at what you had seen. She must think I’m an idiot or something. His mind thought back to when you helped him shop for some new clothes then it had gotten ruined from a meta. His hand fell away from his face, the image of your kind grin imprinted in his mind. I am an idiot, though. A fool.

Once Cisco returned, you three continued unpacking HR’s things for the time he’d spend here. The labs were still in ‘piss-poor’ shape according to Cisco and that he’ll need to consult with Harry and Wally regarding repairs.

“HR, how are you showering?”

“Um, like a normal person?” A dumbfounded look crossed HR’s features as he set the plate of sandwiches down. The novelist had knitted his eyebrows at Cisco. He had taken up to experimenting in the kitchen when he wasn’t writing. The tea and coffee were still brewing in your kitchen.

“No, I mean with how your shoulder is injured,” Cisco snuck an evil look at you, you returned it with a glare, “must be hard handling it alone.” You knew exactly where this dumbass wanted to take this conversation, so you stayed silent as to not get caught in the crossfire.

HR thought to himself for a moment. “Just a bit, but I’ve gotten used to the mild discomforts and pain. I can mostly reach everything thanks to my long limbs. But I think the nice thing is that it’s an internal issue, not an external one. An external injury or wound would require me to really have help with showering that way the area doesn’t get infected or irritated with the contents of soaps.” A laugh fell from his lips, but his mind wondered what his friend was playing at while you were around.

“I’m just saying, if you ever need a hand well,” Cisco trailed off with a smirk, chomping on his third sandwich.

Oh, I see. Devious, but a futile effort. “I’ll make sure you’re the first one I ask for help,” HR teased with a smirk of his own for Cisco to drop his in disgust. A cough escaped you, which had HR’s eyes land on you. Your eyes met for a moment before you deviated your gaze. HR felt hypnotized for a moment. Hm… The engineer quickly recovered from HR’s snide remark.

“Alright kids, I’ll be going now. The labs require some diligent work that I, a capable and distinguished engineer, could only do.”

“Yet, we still have the occasional security issues,” You sipped your tea once the snarky comment was out. HR stifled a chuckle, but you heard it. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly at the notion.

“Hey, that’s not fair. They always come up with something new to invade our space by.” Cisco pointed a finger at you, mocking a hurtful expression on his face. It dropped into a sneaky smile. “Make good choices and always use protection, you two!” He breached away before you could throw your cup at him.

***Multiple Days Pass***

Through his time here, you noticed HR fueled to write what’s on his mind in the guest room. You could only assume that he continued his adventure story. Sometimes he would venture out for some coffee or take a walk to give his creativity a break. Keeping that in mind, you gave HR the space he needed as well as all noises to a minimum. You knew he liked the quiet atmosphere to pour his heart and soul into words as he did research for a scene. Pulling your jacket on, you compiled a list of groceries before you stepped out of your apartment. Locking the door, you headed out to the store picking up a few necessities as well as some snacks for HR. Like Harry, the novelist can easily lose himself in his task – which meant that he tended to forget about eating and such. You found a bag of Jitters coffee beans, adding it to your cart of items. Buying some snacks and fruit, you’d leave a note in the kitchen of the snacks when he emerged from his writing cave.

On the way back, you stopped by at Iris’ studio to check up on her. A few groceries for her as well were in hand. Cecile and you did your best to visit Iris. But you can’t deny that you blamed her to a certain extent. Had she spoken up once she had left Savitar’s place disguised as HR, HR wouldn’t have been hurt that night on Infantino Street. Surely, she could have contacted her father or Cisco or something. The transition could have been smoother. HR wouldn’t have been… The journalist was faring; she pushed through the pain and as Barry had told her ‘to keep living’. So, Iris did. She hadn’t been herself since Barry went into the Speedforce – she pushed too much, the smile wouldn’t reach her eyes sometimes. You sympathized; she lost the love of her life. But you almost had too.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, just… taking it one day at a time.” You nodded at her response, a small smile on your face. “How are things with you and HR? I heard of the temporary living conditions.”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m in my bubble and he’s in his doing his writing.”

“Right. Nothing going on whatsoever?”

“Iris.”

Iris set her cup of hot chocolate down and raised both hands in mock defeat. “We all saw it. We all see it.”

“See what?”

“How smitten you are for him.”

“I’m not-”

“-Don’t say you’re not. If you weren’t you, Harry wouldn’t have to pry you off Savitar before you clawed his eyes out.”

“…” You just looked into your tea, the honey that settled at the bottom. Iris placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t look at her.

“The heart will want what it wants, (Y/N). Pushing your feelings into a box and denying it out loud won’t change things.”

“I know.”

And my heart wants him, over and over again. Even if he can’t see me.

***

HR tapped his pencil against the desk at a steady pace. His mind wouldn’t focus on the words in front of him, on the scene he wanted to set. Instead, it kept drifting further from it. Further towards you: your eyes, your smile, the kindness that you held; the serenity that your existence held as the world continued to turn and chaos had unfolded at each turn. HR didn’t see much of you while he was here, the novelist missed your company. You were here, but you weren’t really here. You were either in your room or at the balcony with a book or on the couch with your Switch. He didn’t want to bother you, but… sometimes HR just wanted to sit beside you and pull you close to talk. To hold you in his arms and ask you about your day, to understand what you were thinking. HR cracked his back in a stretch from where he sat on his bed, being mindful of his injured shoulder. It didn’t hurt as it had originally done a few weeks back. The Wells doppelganger noticed that you were careful to avoid touching him or him touching you. Not even a hug that you used to graciously give him. You were especially guarded with your hands. A rough sigh left him as he threw his pencil down. The frustration was setting in, he was getting nowhere. You consumed his thoughts. HR wondered if you were revolted by him but doesn’t verbalize his thoughts to you. He didn’t think you’d give him your truthful answer. Maybe she is revolted by me. She did find the cuffs and the blindfold… No, she knew about the cuff stage thing well before that.

The sound of the front door greeted his ears followed by the soft tune of music. A frown made its way onto his face. Might as well take a break. HR stretched once more when he fully stood up, a little noise of relief left his lips. He cracked his back once more before smelling himself. For safe measure, the novelist sprayed a bit of cologne on himself and turned off the candle he had on. He mentally noted to take a shower after dinner since his last was yesterday. He liked the feeling of being clean, to be honest. HR carded a hand through his hair. I need a haircut soon, too. Yeesh, I feel like I’m letting myself go. Once I’m all healed it’s back to proper cuts and the labs’ recreation room. He wanted to go back to lifting weights and doing yoga for body stability purposes – especially now because of his shoulder. HR rested a hand on his chest, the wound had healed completely, but a scar remained. Upon entering the kitchen, he saw the groceries on the table and heard you whisper along with the lyrics. The music was set to a low level that your whispers were audible enough. He watched you sway a bit with the tune.

So please don't break my heart

Don't tear me apart

I know how it starts

Trust me I've been broken before

Don't break me again

I am delicate

Please don't break my heart

Trust me I've been broken before

The guitar tune pulled at his heart, feeling the raw emotion behind the lyrics. He eyed you for a moment. HR cleared his throat to make his presence known, he knew you didn’t like to be snuck up on. However, a little gasp left you from where you were. “You went out shopping?”

You looked up from where you crouched to put away the cereal. “Uh yeah, we were running low on some stuff.” You shut the cabinet and went to the other items you had bought. The music continued to delicately play.

“Need any help?”

“Um, sure. Uh, just set these into the cabinet on the left.” Normal, be normal. He’s not going to eat you or anything. Distance is good. Distance keeps you safe. You didn’t meet his eyes, the eyes that’d pull you in and never let you out – your heart shook with him here and the song that played. You were hoping HR wouldn’t come out while you prepped dinner to have a sort of peace of mind. The next song played before you could stop it-

My last made me feel like I would never try again

But when I saw you, I felt something I never felt

Come closer, I'll give you all my love

If you treat me right, baby, I'll give you everything

“I like this song,” HR started as he was finishing up with putting his side of the groceries away. Another guitar-like song that brought out the soft feelings of love and rejection. HR mused to himself if fate had planned this out. If this was some sort of sign or a cruel joke… You had stopped yourself from clicking the button to skip the song at his comment. You don’t know what possessed you to let him indulge in another song that you’ve cried to late at night. “Hey, I can cook dinner tonight. I have something I’ve been wanting to try. I’m not that crippled so I can manage with a few cookware.” HR chuckled to himself, a goofy grin on his face. Your heart leapt in your chest; his grin caused a small smile to pull at your lips. “You can wash up first?”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes meeting his icy blues. You felt your cheeks warm up slightly as the nerves crawled up your spine. “Oh, ok. Cool, yeah. Can’t wait to see what you cook up.” You nodded, ducking your head away and shuffling out of the kitchen with that shy smile on your face. You missed the longing look he had sent you as you fastened your steps to head to your room.

God I love that smile. What goes on in that little head of yours? We used to be so close… before Tracy came into the picture. HR pulled out the spices and the chicken breast. He shook his head and proceeded to prep the food with his one useful hand. I need to consult Francisco.

***

“We need to talk,” HR’s voice broke the silence in the side lab of the Cortex. He had breached to the labs using the Breach Extrapolator after he had showered and such. His damp hair was pushed back in HR’s normal style.

“About what?” Cisco raised a concerned eyebrow at the writer, stopping what he had been doing.

“(Y/N).”

A nervous laugh left Cisco as he went back to attempting to make the necessary modifications to the Speed Bazooka. Tracy was reluctant to help the mechanical engineer after the breakup. “What about (Y/N)?” Cisco put down his screwdriver. “Did you do something weird to her?”

“What? No! I- we used to be closer. We always talked, we’d hang out after a long day here at the labs.”

“Uh huh.”

“And, maybe it’s just me, but things have changed.”

“How so?” Cisco was wondering what conclusion HR was leading himself to.

“Things changed when Tracy came into the picture.”

Cisco made a little ‘o’ with his mouth with a little nod before closing it. He pushed a rough sigh past his lips, he was getting really tired of this puppy love game. “Why do you think that?”

“Francisco, she flinches when I get close – almost when I touch her… Does she hate me?”

“I think you and I know the answer to that one. But I think the real question should be: Why do you care so much? Why does it bother you? Do you love her, HR?”

The novelist tensed a bit. “…” HR pursed his lips as Cisco walked around the table that the speed weapon was mounted on. Blueprints were scattered on one table while the glass board held variables and equations he could not decipher. “What?”

“I said what I said,” the mechanical genius smoothly responded. One look at HR and Cisco knew that he was baffled by his forward words. But they needed to be said. “Now run along and use that head of yours to think about what your heart wants. Barry isn’t going to get himself out of the Speedforce.”

***

Cisco’s words mulled through HR’s mind as he breached back to your apartment’s living room. Only the lamp light on the side table was on. HR’s eyes landed on you, who laid on the couch with the book you had been reading on the back ledge of the couch. The novelist took off his shoes and set down his bag. He had detoured to the bookstore, looking for the next installment of your current book. The Wells doppelganger had assumed you didn’t buy it yet as it was vacant from your bookshelf. The gentle giant stepped silently closer to you; the dim light cast over you like a glow. There were slight bags under your eyes. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Spotting a large and fluffy blanket near, HR grabs it and lays it on top of you. He remembered you mentioned to him prior that you easily get cold, especially at night. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, HR contemplated something before his body moved impulsively. The novelist placed a gentle kiss on your forehead; his lips lingered for a few more seconds. Pulling back, HR watched your chest rise and fall. He turned the light off and stumbled over to his room with his phone light guiding him. He knew what he was going to write. Cisco’s question pestered him enough though.

Do you love her, HR?

HR took one look out his door before shutting it, his heart squeezed tightly in his chest as he whispered, “Goodnight, my angel.” Only the shadows that lingered were a witness to the fondness laced in those simple words.

***

You woke up with a start, you hand instantly smacking right into your chest. Heavy breaths left you as your nerves were in overdrive. Cold sweat beaded your skin as you gasp for air. It was another night terror – the same one for a few weeks now; a new way in which you caused HR’s death. Swallowing thickly, you screw your eyes tightly shut and whisper the mantra that calmed you down. After a few minutes, you started to regain control of your breathing – the thoughts that ravaged your mind finally ceased like the tides subsiding after a tsunami. You blinked languidly, hating nights like these. They weren’t rare, but they weren’t an uncommon occurrence. Deciding that you needed to step out for some air, you did so with the intent of getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Your fingers found the lights for the dimmers in your room, setting it to its lowest setting for you to see yourself out.

Cracking the door open, you were instantly met with the scene of HR passed out on the couch again. He’s been doing that for around two weeks now, the couch his new base of operations. His mouth was slightly open as little snores escaped him. A lovestruck smile crossed your features at the sight. Papers were littered around him, on the ground, and on the tables. Must be the manuscript he’s working on for his final draft. I hope I can read it at some point. Coming back from the kitchen with the water in hand you couldn’t help but stop to admire the sight. You noticed the glasses still perched on his face. Moving as silent as a ninja, you inched closer to pull off the glasses from his face. They’ll break if he keeps them on while he sleeps. Then he won’t see for shit when reading things. You nibbled on your bottom lip as your eyes drifted to the papers. One peek won’t hurt anyone. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Seating yourself on the ground, you leaned your back against the foundation of the couch. You were opposite to where HR’s upper body was. If there were any telltale signs of him waking, you’d hightail out before he could fully wake up and process what you were doing. Picking up a small stack, you started sifting through them. Your mind became engrossed with the words – the beginnings of the story he had spun about his adventures as to how he came to Earth-1. Then… mentions of an angel eluded you. It couldn’t be Tracy, could it? I know they broke up, but… on the other hand, it doesn’t mean that he can’t say that she was his angel at the time. Like a character development thing leading to their break up?? Well fuck, I don’t even think he’d mention such a personal thing in his book. I know I wouldn’t… would I? I don’t know. A little smile danced at your lips while you read on about the synonymous things regarding Team Flash that you failed to notice HR rouse from sleep.

“Do you like it?” Lethargy intertwined his words. A stunned noise left you as you clutched the papers. You turned to see HR rubbing his eyes before gazing at you.

I could get lost in those eyes if I stared too long.

“Uh, yeah, its- it’s really good,” you stuttered, setting the papers down in your lap. Embarrassment of getting caught gripped you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind you taking a peek. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of in it.” HR shifted his lithe body to sit next to you on the ground.

“Oh.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s not that important, I’ll be ok.”

“If you say so,” HR’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m here if you want to talk.” You nodded at him, whispering a little thank you. HR ran a hand over his knee, he took a glimpse at you who stared at the papers. He noticed what chapter you hand been reading – the angel was making an appearance in the story. The hair at the back of his neck stood while you thumbed the words on the paper back in forth, just lost in your mind. Your hair was messy from sleep, the bags under your eyes were still there. It killed him how you wouldn’t confide in him anymore. But he didn’t push you. You would open up to him if you wanted to or not, even if he wanted you to do so as so his mind can be at ease with knowing what’s going on with you. Cisco’s question sprang up in his mind once more before he licked his lips, his eyes watching you. “I do.”

You gave HR a strange look. I do, what?

“Tracy wasn’t her.” Realization struck HR the more you whispered with him.

“Huh??”

“I heard this voice before I woke up.” The novelist fully turned to you with intense eyes, the enlightenment in them – the fire that burned brightly. “The tenderness in it could rival any tasteful delight in the multiverse.”

“A voice?”

“Mm, it made me think that only a heavenly deity would have such a voice.” You remained silent as he spoke. “I never got to hear that voice since my coma… until now?”

You tensed at what he was insinuating. “Now?”

“How could I forget?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“How could I forget about you?” The baritone huskiness in his voice made you melt with the way he said those words. You swallowed, trying to calm the butterflies that raged in the pit of your stomach. “The flowers that were left – beautiful, delicate, yet meaningful. You left those after visiting me.”

“…”

She didn’t deny it. “But you never visited when I was awake because of Tracy.”

“She hates me.”

“And I was too blind to see that until I broke up with her, she threw quite a fit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you must have loved her so much that it would be hard to let go.” She was your angel, after all.

“She didn’t even know me. Truly know me.”

“… Did she hurt you?”

“Slightly, but the bruise is gone.” You and he were silent for a moment. Only the sound of a distant car horn was heard from the streets. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Deny what?”

“The flowers, the visit…” HR licked his lips as a rough breath left him. His nerves were climbing, but he needed to do this. “Cisco told me what you did to Savitar when you saw him. How angry you were that Harry had to pry you off him – I was so angry.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know then… but I know now.”

“And?”

“Tracy was never the one written in my story – she didn’t care. She didn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face obsessed with coffee. You did.” HR tucked your hair behind your ear, carefully gauging your reaction. He saw how you tried not to flinch away from him. “Do you hate me?” He asked as he retracted a hand from you, happy that he was at least getting through to you.

“Never could I feel such a way towards you.” You hesitated for a moment before testing the waters. You started to explain, “I- the night you were stabbed by Savitar I… I just broke. I pushed Tracy away, I had Barry rush you back to the labs. You were dying, unconscious on the gurney and… I got to work trying to resuscitate you. I had Cisco take care of Tracy while I worked, I needed space to think clearly, but I couldn’t. When- when the others were preoccupied with Iris’ appearance, I used these powers.” It was now or never. “I was desperate. Your life was hanging by a thread- I didn’t think it was going to work, but nothing else was working. You were bleeding so much. But I had to try. I…” Your glassy eyes locked back on his, your hands pulled close to your body. HR understood now why you never tried touching him. Why you are avoiding getting too close. “Cisco found out, he confronted me. But these powers, life isn’t guaranteed. They’re volatile, unprecedented – regardless of how I feel in the moment the balance can tip between giving a life and taking one.” There was a tightness in your chest as your voice cracked, “I’m cursed, I could hurt you.” I’m dangerous.

“I don’t think you will.”

“You don’t know that!”

“But I do,” HR reached a hand out to hold yours. Tension filled your heart as panic started to settle. “You wouldn’t let yourself hurt me. It would pain you too much.” HR squeezed your slightly shaky hand, his other hand still bound by the cross-sling. “My life is in your hands.”

“How can you trust me so much?”

“Because love cannot be built without a foundation of trust.” He placed a sweet kiss on the knuckles of your hand. “And understanding.” He took the other and kissed it, baby blue eyes shifted back to yours with such intense emotion. The adoration that filled the author to the brim for you. Just for you. Only you. The one who saw him for everything and anything that he is. His safe space – the one other thing he wanted to be for you as well. He wanted to eliminate any fears that resided in your heart, the pain and doubt that remained.

“Do you hate me?”

HR cupped your cheek tenderly as he leaned close, your heart wanted to stop as blood rushed to your cheeks and ears. Your half-lidded eyes shut slowly as his lips skimmed over your own. “Never in my life, angel,” the novelist whispered as he captured your lips in a tender and sentimental kiss.

Never in my life could I hate the one who my heart has yearned for.

#harrison wells x reader #harrison wells #hr wells x reader #hr wells #hr wells imagine #the flash cw #the flash #harrison wells imagines #earth 19 harrison wells #cw #cisco ramon #tracy brand #iris west #Iris West-Allen

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

Asters

A/N: This is another teaser for Recall, and that’s really all I can say about that. Sorry I’m being so vague when it comes to this story, but hopefully when it’s finished you will understand why that had to be the case. Anywho- this also takes care of Day 10 from the September Prompt list.

Catch up on the first teaser for Recall here- Classified.

Prompt: Wildflowers

Warnings: discussion of injury, death, loss, trauma, pain, needles, this is angsty 😬

WC: 1.3k

Like always, it started with an apology.

“I’m sorry to have to do this to you, Jack.”

Before he had time to ask what it was that called for preemptive contrition, the lab coated tech thrust an old polaroid photo into his hand, the top edge slightly bent. Who is… A beautiful young woman with long dark hair hanging over her shoulders in waves and big, bright eyes smiled up at him. “Who’s this pretty lady?” And where is she, ‘cause I’d like to-

The tech swallowed hard and blurted out an answer, face still contorted in remorse. “She’s dead, Jack.”

Like always, it knocked the air from his lungs.

Images spun through his mind like bullets in the chamber of his pistol, things clicking painfully into place in his memory. Click, click- A file full of classified documents. Click, click- A searing sensation at his temple and the deafening crack of a gunshot. Click- A solo mission gone sideways, a flash of wild electric blue and the feeling of being too late. Click, click, click- A female voice, familiar and soft. Click- “Hi honey…” Click, click- A deep ache, shredding through his chest to leave him empty. Click, click, click- He sucked a breath in as the onslaught came to an end, eyes screwed so tightly shut he could see spots floating through the darkness. Click.

My wife. My...she’s… Pressing a palm to his forehead, he steadied himself and opened his eyes, glancing down at the picture pinched between his shaking fingers. The love of my life. Bringing it to his lips, he pressed them against the glossy surface. She’s gone. When he looked back up at the tech, his confusion had cleared, though the hollowness in his heart remained. They killed her.

“Welcome back, Agent Whiskey.”

Like always, the tech would release a sigh of relief, glad to know that the process had worked.

Resets were never easy for anyone involved. Even though the Alpha-Gel was a revolutionary advancement in medicine, and the nanite technology used in the lab was essentially fool proof when it came to repairing brain damage, restoring memory- and therefore restoring an agent’s training, all of the classified information they had knowledge to, any enemy intelligence they may have secured- was never entirely guaranteed even if everything went the way it was supposed to. There was always the chance that a reset would take longer than expected to kickstart, always the chance that it wouldn’t take at all or that it would misfire, making the agent violent and unpredictable.

Each operative had their own personal trigger, something that they could identify with so strongly that no matter how much brain damage they had incurred in the field, they would remember exactly who they were and all of the choices that they made and things that had happened to them leading up to the split second that their injury had occurred. For some agents it was something as simple as engaging them in a hobby or pastime that they were particularly fond of. For others it was a song or an article of clothing, something that only they would be able to use as an anchor in reality.

For Agent Whiskey, it was the last photo he’d taken of his wife. His pregnant wife.

There was nothing else even remotely as strong, nothing else that would serve as a better tether to his old life, a better reminder of why he had become a Statesman agent to begin with, than that photo- nothing stronger than his love for her. In the aftermath of her untimely death he had sunken to the absolute lowest point in his life. He had known the most pure and true love, had devoted himself to his family, and had suffered the most extreme loss that any man could endure when he’d had it all ripped from his hands. There was not a single thing, high or low, that had been more impactful in his life.

“I’m sorry sir, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

There had been an apology then, too, when the police officers who had arrived at the scene relayed the news to him. When they sat him down and explained to him that his wife had gone out to the store and that on her way, she’d become an unfortunate victim of a drug-related shooting. He was told that she was caught in the crossfire, that she’d been killed instantly; she and their unborn child.

My little boy.

Welcome back, indeed. Welcome back to reliving everything you’ve lost, Jack Daniels. Welcome back to all the hurt and the guilt, the hate and the rage, the heartache and the longing that will never, ever go away. Welcome back, Senior Agent Whiskey, time to do your job.

Jack handed the photo back then, watching as the tech who had handed it to him slipped it back into the folder it had been pulled from. His stomach turned, a bitter taste coating his tongue as he got the distinct feeling that this had all happened before, and that it would happen again. But that’s what I signed up for with all’a this. He brought two fingers up to the side of his head where in his restored memory he’d felt the burning bite of a gunshot, feeling the cushion of an adhesively applied bandage. Headshots and all. He listened to the tech as they told him where to go for his debriefing, when to return for a checkup on his cognition, and how long protocol dictated he would be sidelined for.

Two days. A bullet to the brain, his vital organs all forced into stasis, his memory entirely restored and his heart re-broken. All of that had bought him two days of rest, and almost immediately as he left the medical facility at headquarters, an idea formed in his mind that only grew more solid with every step he took.

He wanted something other than the photo in his file to remember his wife by, something that he could carry with him at all times. Something that was as much a part of him as she was, she and the son he never got to meet.

Jack Daniels never pictured himself with tattoos, and he doubted that he would be adding any more after this one, but as he walked into the shop and laid down on the bench, he knew that he was making the right choice. In addition to the blitz of images that had rushed through his memory when he focused on his trigger photo, there had been a word repeated in the background.

Aster.

Her favorite flower. Wild and free. Symbolic of lifelong devotion.

The needle buzzed as the artist brought her latex gloved hand to his chest. “Sorry if this hurts,�� she said, pausing before she touched the device to his skin, “though you look pretty tough, cowboy.”

“S’alright if it does, sugar,” he told her, resting one arm behind his head. “Let’r rip.”

She nodded and within seconds Jack felt the scratch of the needle as it made contact, pushing black ink into his skin. A mirror had been set up so that he could watch the process, and Jack never took his eyes off of the place where she worked in silence until she finally swiped her cloth over it one more time, revealing a cluster of three asters- one for his wife, one for his son, and one for the man he never got to be for either of them.

“So?” The artist sat back as he inspected her work. “What’da you think?”

He tracked a single drop of blood as it mingled with excess ink, trickling down the black and gray stems of the flowers and cleared his throat. “S’perfect.”

.. .. .. ..

“Sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Jack, that’s a really personal question and I-”

He grabbed your hand and placed it over the long healed tattoo on his chest. “No,” he said, flattening your palm over the blossoms. “I...I do wanna tell you.” He licked his lips and sighed out your name as he felt your body relax into his own. “I wanna tell you everything.”

Thank you for reading! Again, this is just a teaser for the Whiskey i’m distilling so if you have any questions or you would like to be tagged in this one, please let me know!

Tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @pheedraws @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @hellovanessax

#agent jack 'whiskey' daniels #jack daniels kingsman #jack daniels fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfic #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack 'whiskey' daniels x female reader #kingsman: the golden circle #september prompts #wildflowers #asters #recall : coming soon

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

Passing Through

Dannymay Day 5: Doorway

“Don’t go in there,” his mother warned. Her voice shook. “Never go through that door.”

Danny had no intention of ignoring his mother, especially since the night she’d given him that warning was seared so thoroughly in his mind he didn’t think even as an adult he’d ever forget it.

It had been dark, but not any darker than any other night with Danny’s myriad nightlights and glowing stars stuck everywhere he could reach and then some. The night had long since settled, and Danny was supposed to be sleeping and was instead, like any young child, not doing that.

In fact, he’d been staring out his window, arm balanced on the sill and face pressed up against the glass so he could see the night sky in all her glory. It was one of the only times he felt truly comfortable, alone and with his parents and sister asleep. He often imagined himself sailing amongst those stars. Or flying high enough to reach out and cradle one to his chest.

Jazz always told him that was impossible, that each star was as far away from each other as they were from earth, if not further. He told her she could eat dirt, and she got a hurt look in her eyes that made him feel bad, but he didn’t apologize because she was being mean first.

He’d been preoccupied, that’s why he didn’t notice it at first.

When the soft pink touch of the sun started obscuring the night’s stars, Danny realized he’d been up all night and he was probably going to fall asleep in class again. He turned around to quickly dive into bed to at least feign having slept so his parents didn’t scold him and feel like they had to check in on him at night the way they threatened to last time.

He hadn’t expected the door.

It was small, very small compared to a normal door. It was just large enough that Danny could crawl through on all fours, and he knew there was no way his dad would ever be able to get through. At least not more than an arm. Maybe his head if he tried to dive through it.

The door was closed, a soft, purple light on the other side painting the carpet beneath where it stood, balanced, in the middle of the room. Acting as if it was placed in the wall like any good door, but missing the wall itself entirely.

Danny walked closer, his mind off bed times and getting ready for school entirely. Now he was thinking of adventures and stories Jazz used to read him before he could read himself. Stories of exploration and hidden worlds. His hand brushed against the polished brass handle, and a jolt of electricity flowed through him, causing every hair in his body to stand on end.

He probably should have let go then, released the handle and backed up, frightened. But instead Danny’s grip tightened and he twisted the nob, pulling it slowly open, his heart beating in rapt anticipation. It was barely open a sliver, the tiniest bit of purple light spilling out onto the frame, when his mother ran into the room and slammed it closed.

She was wearing a hazmat suit, as if she’d just come from the lab downstairs, with thick rubber gloves and ominous red goggles that reflected a twisted version of Danny’s face back at him as she pulled him into a tight, unforgiving hug.

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” she said, her words heavy with exertion. Had she run up here? How did she know there was a door?

Danny looked over his mother’s shoulder to take another look, but the door had vanished at some point when his eyes were no longer locked upon it. That was when she gave him her warning. The one he had no intention of ignoring.

The one he was disregarding now, for no reason other than he was sick of it. He was tired of the nights, laying awake and seeing a door that promised so much and had yet to be given the opportunity to deliver.

His mother would skin him alive if she knew, but she’d probably never find out. Honestly, if Tucker’s theories were true and it was some monster trying to trick him into its lair Coraline-style, it’d probably take at least a week for her to even realize he was gone. His dad probably wouldn’t notice at all.

Jazz…

Danny shook his head. If anything, Jazz would be the one to forgive him for being dumb. She understood what it was like to have this burning curiosity, this need to know.

The door didn’t always appear. Most nights it did, but only when Danny was distracted by something, usually the stars outside his window, sometimes a particularly fun video game or a good book. It only ever appeared right on the cusp of night and morning, before the sun rose fully but after the stars hid away. And it always waited for him to look away before it disappeared.

He didn’t plan on looking away tonight.

The first night after his mother’s warning, he’d stayed up all night, terrified, waiting for the door to appear. It never did. In fact, the next month, he spent every second awake expecting it to appear and being almost disappointed when it didn’t.

It appeared again, in much the same way it had the first time, while Danny was star gazing.

That’s why, now, knowing the rules (or rather what few rules he could tell from this side of the door), Danny was determined to follow through. None of his questions would be answered just waiting for the door to appear or not appear, nor would they be answered by spending time staring at it and studying it from the outside.

He needed to go through.

The brass knob was cold against his palm, and it turned easily. The click of the mechanism was loud in the night’s quiet. He held his breath. He opened the door.

There was no resistance when it swung open. Almost the opposite, in fact, like it had been waiting for an excuse. The soft purple light that had teased the edges of the door was much closer to a deep, swirling purple that looked almost like mist and obscured the path forward.

But Danny wasn’t scared.

He was curious.

He stepped through, and heard the door close softly behind him. Just like in a horror movie really, and exactly like the stories his mother told him, warning him of monsters and things from the other side.

It didn’t matter anymore, if he’d made the right choice. He’d made his choice and there was only one path to take. Danny walked into the mists and kept walking.

No more than an hour could have passed, but it felt like much longer. Time seemed to stretch along with the endless path, and Danny hadn’t come any closer to the answers he wanted.

He sighed. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he tried calling out, to no avail.

This was turning out to be a waste of a trip. With all the cryptic warnings, he’d hoped it wouldn’t be boring at the very least, yet here he was. The only difference between this and one of Sam’s ‘nature hikes’ was that Danny couldn’t see anything through the damned purple mist.

Or could he?

Danny squinted his eyes, catching something moving just to his left. It was very much hidden, the deep purple of its cloak camouflaged perfectly against the swirling purples all around him. He took a step closer, off the path, and felt the air still around him.

A voice, haunting and deep, startled him.

“A quick learner,” it said.

Danny felt his mouth go dry. There was actually someone here, someone that might not be human. Someone that could summon a door into a kids room for half a decade waiting for them to open it.

Someone who might have answers.

Danny stepped closer, and the mist seemed to gather, catching on itself and folding into a physical shape. The hooded figure. Danny forced himself not to blink. It felt like anything was possible, that if he looked away, he’d miss too much to make sense of it later.

The hooded figure turned to him and beckoned with one gloved hand, the other holding a twisting, intricate staff covered in shapes and symbols Danny couldn’t quite make out. Danny didn’t step any closer.

It was clear this man wasn’t human, or at the very least hadn’t been for some time. The only thing Danny could see hidden under the cloak was an old clock. But even then, Danny couldn’t tell whether it was something he was wearing on his chest or if it simply was his chest and there was nothing else.

“You’re still cautious, even now when you’ve already made your decision?” the figure asked. “Did you not seek an answer to your curiosity?”

Danny frowned. This whatever-it-was knew more than he was comfortable with. Had he been watching from the other side? How? Is that why the door only appeared when it did? Why couldn’t he just open the door and step out if his goal was to spirit Danny away like in the stories?

There were just so many questions, and Danny still didn’t have any answers.

“Do you actually have any answers or are you just going to eat me?” he asked, growing irritated. It had been a long night, made longer by his fruitless walk, and it was starting to affect his temper.

Instead of answering, the figure lowered his arm, tilting his head to the side. “If you thought I was going to eat you, why did you come through the door? You’ve been very good at ignoring it so far.”

“Yeah see,” Danny said, throwing up his hands, “that kind of stuff only makes you sound more creepy and suspicious, you know! If your goal is child eating you should set up, idk a candy house or something. Pretend to be a grandma, I hear that works wonders provided you stay out of your own oven.”

The figure laughed. It sounded, off, not like a noise Danny recognized, but more like a collage of sounds: a ticking clock chiming with heavy clanking clockwork all wrapped in canary song and it vibrated all the way through Danny from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It filled the air around them much like the mist once did and Danny felt glee himself, caught up as he was.

He looked up desperately at the figure, trying to keep ahold of himself and how he truly felt, lost in the sudden sea of emotion. The figure’s cloak was bunched up, as if he was doubled over in laughter, his gloves clutching at his staff and the entire collection shaking with slight tremors.

The hood turned towards him, empty, and Danny’s panic spiked. The laughter stopped, and the figure stood once more, pulling the hood further down and hiding the nothingness underneath.

“I apologize,” he said, sincere. “It’s been some time since I’ve felt in such good humor, and you took me off guard. I hope you didn’t get too swept away?”

Danny, who was still definitely feeling the effects of the other’s laughter, shook his head no. “I’m alright. I just- what are you?”

“I am like Clockwork,” he answered readily. “Though the question you should be asking, Daniel, is what are you? That is a much more interesting answer.”

Disagreeing vehemently, Danny shook his head. Like Clockwork? Was that his name? Why he had a clock, er, was a clock? How did that work? What was he? Simply what his name implied? Something more? There were a billion and a half questions he wanted answers to that were more interesting than that.

Then again, there had to be a reason he said it, right? “Okay Clockwork, I’ll bite. What am I?”

He could swear the thing smiled. “You are halfway there.”

#dannymay2021 #danny phantom #clockwork #danny fenton #horror #horror themes #loosely based off TPoH #but not nearly that well thought out #Bee's writing

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babybluebex · 4 years

Text

it takes two [peter parker]

➽ pairing: peter parker x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 3.0k ➽ summary: an accidental discovery leads peter and you to discuss poly-nylons, tony stark, and aunt may’s burnt meatloaf. ➽ warnings: awkward teenage feels, fluff, all that good stuff ➽ a/n: nerdy little peter melts my heart uwu. enjoy!

“Hey, Y/N. Y/N!”

I turned to see Peter fumbling with his books, and I extended my arms to catch them. “Hey, Pete,” I chuckled. I looked at one of the books in my hand and saw the official autobiography of tech giant Tony Stark, and I laughed. “We get it, man, you’re in love with Tony Stark.”

“I’m not,” Peter said quickly. “Just wanna read up on my boss.”

“Right,” I said with a click of my tongue. “The whole internship thing. That seems like a pretty sweet gig, Pete.”

“It’s…” Peter began and nodded. “It’s alright.”

“What do you actually do?” I asked, placing the biography of Peter’s one true love back on his stack of books. “Do you do paperwork? Or Mr. Stark’s laundry?”

That elicited a laugh out of Peter. Peter Parker and I had been friends for a while, since we were lab partners in eighth grade biology, and I had been one of the first people he told about the internship. As excited as he was to get it, though, he never really talked too much about it. “I do…” He began. “Um… Stuff.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I’m asking,” I said, shouldering my backpack. “What kinda stuff?”

“This and that,” Peter shrugged. “Sorta whatever needs to be done.”

I nodded slowly. “Uh-huh,” I responded. “Well, since you’re not gonna tell me, I’ll tell you some big news.”

“Sure,” Peter said. “What is it?”

“I got an interview for MIT,” I grinned, and joy overcame Peter’s face. His arms instinctually went out to hug me, but his stack of books went tumbling to the ground around us. He paid it no mind and hugged me tightly anyway, rocking us as he embraced me. Peter gave amazing hugs; that’s one thing nearly everyone can agree on.

“That’s awesome, Y/N!” Peter exclaimed. “When is it?”

“Friday evening,” I said. “And I’m freaking out really bad. Do you think you could help me prep?”

Peter had already bent down and begun to retrieve his books. “Why me?” He asked. “A-Ask Flash, he’s on the debate team.”

“Because I don’t want to ask Flash,” I sighed. “I want to ask you. God, Pete, you got an internship with Stark Industries! Why wouldn’t I ask for your help with interviews? I mean, I assume there was an interview process…”

“Um, sorta,” Peter said. “Yeah, yep, there was.”

My eyes narrowed. “What was that turn around?” I asked. “‘Sorta’ an interview, but also yes?”

“It wasn’t a, uh, a typical interview,” Peter said. “I met Mr. Stark’s head of security before him.”

“Wait, hold on!” I cried. “You’ve met Tony Stark?”

“I told you about this!” Peter smiled. “We went on that company retreat!”

“Th-The one to Berlin?” I asked. “You met Tony freaking Stark in Berlin? How’d I not know this, Peter?”

“I remember telling you,” Peter said. “I missed those days, and I texted you asking about homework, and you told me we had a test and asked how the retreat was, and I said that it was awesome and I met Tony Stark.”

“I don’t remember that,” I said. “But come on, Petey! Please help me prep for this interview, MIT is my dream school!” I grasped his arm and pouted at him, and I said, “For me?”

Peter rolled his eyes jokingly. “Sure,” He said with a smile, as sincere as always. “Just come by tonight, I’ll get Aunt May to order a pizza or something and we’ll work it out.”

I hugged Peter tightly. “Thank you!” I giggled. “Hey, save me a seat at lunch, yeah?”

“Umm, Ned’s brought a few pieces of his Death Star,” Peter began. “It might take up a lot of space.”

“I’ll help,” I said. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“S-Sure,” Peter said, the tips of his ears turning pink. “We could use your smaller hands for some of the more intricate parts of the build.”

“Great,” I said as the bell rang long and high for classes to start. “Crap. I’ll see ya, Pete!”

The day passed as slowly as any normal school day would. I didn’t have a math club meeting that afternoon on account of our faculty sponsor being sick, so I was able to go home before I went to Peter’s. I gathered all of my MIT stuff from my desk and shoved it into my bag, and I opened my computer for a minute before my mom inevitably made me come to the living room. Twitter was already open (I didn’t pay great attention during last period physics), and I clicked around the trending page for a moment before seeing, at the very bottom of the list of trending topics, something called the “Man-Spider”. It wasn’t being talked about too much, but it was a trending topic in my area; knowing that someone would probably ask about it at school tomorrow, I clicked on it.

It was a shaky phone video of a man in a blue and red suit on the rooftop of a building that was adjacent to the videographer. “Hey, you’re that Man-Spider from YouTube!” the videographer yelled.

“Call me Spiderman!” The suited man replied back, his voice echoing around the street.

“Okay! Do a flip, Spiderman!”

The so-called Spiderman flipped backwards, eliciting a whoop from the videographer. The video ended there, and I huffed out a quiet laugh. Peter was really into gymnastics; he would like this video. I tagged him, @pparker101, figuring that he would watch it before I got to his place.

When I finally got myself up and made my way across the borough to Peter and his Aunt May’s apartment, May answered the door. She was a tall and thin woman with long hair that she usually pulled up, and she smiled when she saw me. “Aw, hey, Miss Y/N,” May said. “What’s going on?”

“Peter’s helping me with an interview thing tonight,” I said. “Is that alright?”

“Oh, sweetheart, of course,” May said, waving her hand around. “Where are you interviewing?”

“MIT,” I replied. “The actual interview is on Friday, but, since he’s got that internship with Stark Industries, I figured he would help me prepare.”

“Oh, good job,” May said. “Yeah, Pete popped out to get a sandwich, but you’re welcome to wait for him. Are you hungry? I’m making meatloaf.”

I had known May for long enough to know that it was safest to skip out on the meatloaf. “Oh, I’m alright,” I told her. “I ate before I came.”

“If you change your mind…” May sang and scrunched her nose at me as she smiled. “Pete said that you helped him and Ned with their Death Star build today; how was that?”

“Pretty great,” I smiled. “It was a lot of pieces and we’re not finished yet, but all working together was pretty sweet.”

“I bet,” May replied. “All of you are so smart, I could never do that, even with instructions.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to see Peter replying to me on Twitter with a simple :). “Thanks, May,” I said. “Um, I think I’m gonna go set up in Peter’s room.”

“Alright, Miss Y/N,” May said and gave me a quick hug. “Have fun.”

Peter’s room was messy as always, discarded projects all over the place, and laundry piled in the corner of his bottom bunk. I sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk and started to extract my papers and things to practice, but there was a weird sound from behind me. It was quiet and I almost missed it, but the cool breeze that hit my shoulder helped alert me to the fact that the window was open. I turned over my shoulder, expecting to see the widow accidentally unlatched and opening, but instead I saw something completely different: my best friend crawling on the ceiling.

I couldn’t form words. I wasn’t convinced that I was actually seeing what was happening. Peter was attached upside down to his ceiling, wearing a weird onesie-looking outfit with alternating red and blue panels. He was quiet as he crawled to the other side of the room, and he extended his hand, his middle two fingers and thumb folded into his palm, and a string of white shot from his wrist and attached to the corner of the door. Peter tugged the door closed with ease, as if he had done it before, then he expertly flipped from the ceiling and landed on the carpet with the grace of an Olympic gymnast. His back was to me, but, now that I saw him better, I saw that he wore the exact same outfit that the Man-Spider wore in the Twitter video.

“Holy shit, are you the Man-Spider?” I cried, and Peter flinched. He turned to me, his face stricken with panic, and I saw a black arachnid symbol in the middle of his chest. “You are! Holy shit, Peter--”

“Dude, shut up!” Peter hissed quickly. His hand came up to his chest and he pressed on the spider symbol, and the tight suit loosened and fell off of his body. “I-I’m not the Man-Spider--”

“Spiderman!” I recalled from the video. “Peter, what the actual fuck--”

“Shut up!” Peter pleaded, rushing to me and pressing his hand against my mouth. He was right on top of me, his chest nearly touching mine with each breath, and his dark eyes were wide at me. “Y/N, you… You can’t tell anyone. Please!”

I shifted my head in order to remove his hand. “Are you serious…” I began. “You’re Spiderman? Wait, how did this happen? Was it the Stark internship, did Tony Stark do this to you?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Peter whispered. “Just, you really cannot tell anyone.”

“Does May know?” I asked quickly.

“Are you kidding me?” Peter scoffed. He reached down and grabbed a shirt and began to dress himself; I had noticed that, after the suit came off, he was only in boxers, but I figured that it was better not to say anything. “If she knew, she’d go ballistic.”

I sighed heavily and sat down on the bed once more. “Make this make sense,” I groaned, pressing my head into my hands. “Did this happen to you? Did you make it happen? Is this a Bruce Banner thing?”

“No,” Peter said quickly, and he sat down next to me. “Look, it’s a really long story, but the basics are that I was bitten by a radioactive spider and now I can do weird things. Like, things I never was able to do before. I’m really strong now, Y/N, and I just… I can do that.” He said and pointed to the ceiling. “But Tony Stark found out about me somehow and he tapped me to help him in some sort of weird fight with him and Captain America. He made me that suit! It’s really cool!”

“It is!” I said quickly. “So, are you, like, an Avenger now? Is that what the Stark internship is?”

Peter paused for a moment, and his cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, I mean…” He started. “Basically, yeah, I’m an Avenger.”

“Oh my God,” I laughed. “That’s awesome, Peter! But… Why would you keep this from me?” There was no point disguising the hurt in my voice. That was it, plain and simple. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“We do,” Peter said. “I just… Mr. Stark told me to keep this a secret. He said that anyone who knew could be in danger. I didn’t want you getting hurt.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. The secrecy hurt and it wouldn’t stop for a while, but my excitement overshadowed that. “This is super cool, Peter,” I laughed. “So, the thing you just shot, do you-- Like, does your body make that? Like a spider? Was that a web?”

“Yeah, it’s a web,” Peter smiled widely. “But my body doesn’t make them. That would be super gross.”

“Sorta, yeah,” I agreed.

“Nah, it’s, uh,” Peter began and rushed over to the forgotten suit on the floor. “It’s a poly-nylon substance that’s loaded in these web shooters that Mr. Stark made me. They’re super strong and take three hours to fully dissolve. They come out of this shooter that I wear on my wrist.” He lifted up the silver web shooter to show me, and I grinned at it.

“That’s awesome,” I chuckled. “Wait, does Ned know?”

“No,” Peter said quickly.

“MJ?”

“No.”

“Liz? Betty? Flash?”

“You’re the only one,” Peter reiterated. “Nobody else knows. Mr. Stark, Happy, Pepper, everyone at SHIELD, and you. You’re the only outsider.”

“This is…” I began. “This is really cool, don’t get me wrong, but isn’t it dangerous?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “I mean… Yeah. Everytime I go on a mission, I’m not really sure if I’m coming back.”

I sighed and rubbed my neck. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Petey,” I started. “But I really don’t like this. The idea of my best friend being an Avenger is super cool, but it’s scary as shit. I can’t lose you, Pete. Nobody gets me like you do, and I don’t know what I’d do if you died and I didn’t know why.”

Peter was quiet as he came back to sit down next to me, his web shooter still in his hand. He toyed with it for a moment, then placed it in my lap. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Pete, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “You were doing what you were told was right. If anything, Tony Stark needs to apologize to me.”

Peter scoffed. “Good luck with that,” he said. “You’re cool. Ya know that?”

“Me?” I chuckled. “You’re freaking Spiderman, dude! You’re cooler than everyone at Midtown! So, is Peter Parker, like, your alter ego? Like Batman?”

“Batman isn’t real,” Peter said pointedly.

“The point stands, ass,” I said and shoved his shoulder, eliciting a laugh from him.. “By day, you’re a nerdy high school student and, by night, you’re an Avenger?”

“Sorta,” Peter shrugged sheepishly. “I guess, I mean… Not to brag, but--”

“Brag away!” I said.

“I’m supposed to be helping you with your interview,” Peter began. “I think maybe we can table this until later. Yeah?”

“Fine,” I said with a pout. “Let me get my stuff…”

I turned to retrieve my papers and everything that I had brought, and Peter’s hand returned to my lap to grab the web shooter. The fates, though, decided to throw a wrench into our casual moment, because the ajar door burst open to show May. Before I knew what was happening, Peter had shoved the web shooter down between my thighs in an attempt to quickly hide it, and he pressed his lips to mine. I caught on instantly; his hand between my legs only made sense if we were kissing. It was an easy cover up, something to get May out of the room, and-- honestly-- probably something that May had been suspecting all along.

“Oh!” She exclaimed and backed out of the room, and Peter gave me a tight grimace. I could almost hear him stuttering out an apology. “Sorry, guys! I didn’t mean to--”

“That’s about my luck, huh?” Peter said loudly and laughed. “It’s-- Ah, shit-- Sorry, May!”

“No, don’t be sorry,” May said from behind the door. Peter pulled the web shooter from between my legs and grabbed his suit, and he shoved them under the blankets behind me. “Don’t let me interrupt... Whatever that was. Peter, please remember to use a--”

“May, hush!” Peter cried, and I saw genuine embarrassment rise in his cheeks. “We’re not-- We weren’t--”

“We were just kissing, May!” I said quickly. “Nothing else!”

“Right,” May said. “Have fun. Meatloaf’s burnt, so, if you guys want something to eat, we can get Thai. Or you two can get Thai and I’ll stay here--”

“May!” Peter groaned.

“Right, I’ll leave you two alone,” May said, and Peter and I held our breath until we were sure she wasn’t at the door anymore.

“God, sorry, Y/N,” Peter mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s the only thing I could think of--”

“No big,” I said. “But I’m sure May thinks we’re dating now.”

“She’s thought that since eighth grade,” Peter said and rolled his eyes. “Now she has ‘proof’.”

“I mean…” I started. Too late to go back now. “I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t thought of it before.”

“Us dating?” Peter asked.

“I know you like Liz and MJ, so it’s always been…” I started. “Never mind.”

“Sure, I like Liz and MJ,” Peter said. “But I like you too. Like, in a different way than I like Liz and MJ.”

“Like, in a girlfriend way?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Peter said. He was looking down at his lap, obviously abashed and not wanting to look at me. “You’re really funny and smart, and you’re super pretty… Mr. Stark thinks you’re cute too.”

“Tony Stark knows about me?” I asked. “He thinks I’m cute?”

“N-Not in a creepy way,” Peter said quickly. “When I went to Berlin, I brought a picture of you in my luggage, and Mr. Stark-- Well, Happy found it and he told Mr. Stark, and he said that you were pretty… Encouraged me to ask you out… Gave me… Ahem, pointers on how to ask you out.”

“Really?” I grinned. This was amusing to find out. Tony Stark knew who I was. That was almost as cool as finding out my best friend was an Avenger. “What’d he say?”

“Some really gross stuff, to be honest,” Peter chuckled. “Nothing I’d ever say to you, not even jokingly. But… Whatever. Anyway. MIT interview--”

I leaned in towards Peter and kissed him again, and I felt his smile against my lips. He kissed me back, his arms wrapping around me and tugging me close, and, when the kiss broke, I whispered, “So, does Spiderman have a girlfriend?”

“I’m sure he can get one if he wants to,” Peter said.

“Does he want to?” I asked.

“Duh!”

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x bestfriend!reader #peter parker fluff #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #mcu #sm:hoco #sm:ffh #ca:cw #avengers #i miss tony stark #q

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prince-toffee · 3 years

Text

Save The Bat

The mission had gone awry. There were too many troops to fight off, far more than they expected. Sounds of struggle and battle came across the communicator indicating Glimmer was in trouble, possibly surrounded. Bow, of course, sprinted off in hast to aid his friend, worry and distress on his face. Leaving Entrapta on her own. And she did not mind in the slightest. Bow disappeared further into the space-station behind a wall as he took a turn, one turn out of thousands of turns, along thousands of corridors. The warship was a maze, unlucky for the boy, lucky for Entrapta - let’s just say she had plenty of time to get acquainted with the concept of mazes. With her teammate gone she freely set out on her own quest, for the real reason she came here.

The Drylian Princess made her way across the corridors and hallways at a leisurely pace. She analysed the architecture of the vessel, she admitted it was all very fascinating. The walls, ceiling, and floor seemed to be made of some sort of marble-like material. Waxed and cleaned to perfection. Along the walls and ceiling ran see-through conduits and channels. Through them flew some sort of green fluid - its neon green glow reflected in her eyes, it almost had a strange coaxing effect. Entrapta had remembered seeing the substance back when she worked in the Fright Zone. She worked with the substance when she was figuring out how to improve efficiency of fuel, that all the bots and machines in the Fright Zone were taking. She needed to know what her bots were taking in, and once she found out she decided she wouldn’t let them take that kind of slop. Through her analysis she found the substance was toxic, corrosive and addictive - a quick boost in efficiency, but then followed by a long period of drawbacks, such as cellular degradation. It felt like a cheap fuel source. Awful stuff.

Fuel, that’s what she thought it was at first, that’s what Hordak told her it was when they first worked together. But she always had her suspicions, Hordak always seemed too secretive about it.

So she followed her only clue on through the corridors. As she made her way across the labyrinth she felt and heard multiple explosions going off in the distance, seemed like those explosive arrows came in handy. On her way following the green substance she encountered a few obstacles, in the form of patrolling clones. Entrapta managed to deal with them quickly and easily, they did not stop or slow her advance. Her mechanical hair could lift tons of metal machinery, clones were no problem. Even if they did weight more than her missing lab-partner, they were swept off their feet all the same. Literally.

She had to admit it was hard, they all had his face, his voice, she didn’t like to see him angry, snarling and growling at her. But that didn’t stop her, the aggressors couldn’t even get close. The Princess’ tendrils flailed around forming a hurricane of hair - clones flew across the white corridors like stones skipping across a lake. Once the cryptid royal was finished with slapping around her attackers she was faced with a large metallic door, the pipeline of green disappeared behind it.

For the operating clones on the other side they had no idea what hit them, no time to react. All they heard was the sound of metal bending and tearing like paper. The door flew off knocking down clones. With a few precise hits from her hair the clones went through the wall, across the room and slammed into the floor. Her attention drifted off from the conflict to the pillars of... some sort of pods.

Curious. The pods seemed to be some sort of stasis capsules, in them were shadowy silhouettes of humanoid figures, they seemed to be suspended in mid-air. Surrounded in the green substance. Fascinating.

A stream of thoughts flooded her mind, her suspicions were right. It looked like clones had been created and altered to feed off of that matter, and only that. Entrapta never remembered Hordak eating anything, or drinking, or sleeping. And now it was obvious, it was so because he didn’t need to. One fuel source to power the entire body. Most likely cheaply produced - since you would have to make enough for an army spanning the size of half the universe, plus you would have to transport it across light years of space too. Viewed by Prime as cost effective, no doubt, but clearly not healthy. Though she doubted he much cared.

Entrapta pulled out a test tube from her overalls and popped off the cork. She knelt down infront of a large pool of the green liquid. She didn’t speculate what it was for, she knew she wouldn’t like the answer. The sample was collected from the pool and the cork was pushed back on. Her mind stayed fine focused on the liquid, on studying and analysing it.

She tried not to think too much about Hordak. Even though it was hard not to in a place like that. But that was how she managed to survive on Beast Island, she kept her mind busy. Think of nothing but the project, that’s how it always was, that’s how she kept herself company all her life. Along in the corridors of Dryl. No one to study and analyse with her.

As she was putting the sample away she heard a small ‘tink’. Something fell out of her pocket. She already knew what it was even before she saw it. The crystal. The one she excavated from the Northern Reach, the one she gave to Hordak as a gift as a toast to a new partnership, and the one she found in the rubble of the Fright Zone when she returned from the island. She had no idea why she rushed in, why she searched through the fire and debris - maybe she thought she’d find him, but she didn’t, she found the crystal instead.

But to just see his face, just to see him again... She didn’t know what she would’ve said to him if she found him in there. She wouldn’t know what to do if she faced him. She didn’t even know how Hordak himself would’ve reacted. In anger, at her return, roaring and yelling. Maybe... maybe he wouldn’t have reacted at all, maybe he’d just shrug off her return, unphased. Maybe he never cared. Maybe. She had hope in her heart that it wasn’t so, but... he never came for her, to save her. And they did part on bad terms. Entrapta’s dark thought process led her to believe that Hordak had ordered Catra to send her off to Beast Island. The way Adora and Glimmer vouched for Catra seemed to prove that to be likely. Meaning Hordak had probably threatened Catra with the same fate, forcing the kid to make a decision in an ultimatum. Poor girl.

And yet... she took the crystal and she set off to find him. Because there was something off. She couldn’t explain it, it just wasn’t right. Maybe it was foolish hope. But she was going to get an answer and it was going to be from him. He owed her that much. If he did indeed just use her, he was going to say it to her face... and she would deal with it. She picked up the crystal and gave it a good glare. She scanned over the surface of the tech component, the engraving was hand written by her, in First Ones. It spelled ‘Loved’. Or at least that’s what she hoped, hopefully she spelled it right.

She ran her gloved thumb across the engraving and reflective surface, entranced. Entrapta was too preoccupied with the thoughts, she had barely noticed the low growl off to her side. She turned to see a crawling clone on the floor moving towards a console on her right. Before she could extend her hair to deal with him the clone pressed some button on the green panel on the console, which initiated some kind of alarm or alert. Red lights blared in the room. Entrapta made quick work of him, throwing him aside.

Entrapta struggled slightly with the panel and deactivating the alarm, she was pretty familiar with Horde tech since she spent over a year toying and tweaking with it in the Fright Zone... With Hordak. He helped her comprehend and work with the alien tech, not that she wouldn’t have figured it out herself, but it was nice. Having someone else discuss her passions with, someone you can learn new things with. Any question she had Hordak answered happily. The experience was very enlightening. But Entrapta knew the tech Hordak was stuck with, left over from the salvaged parts from his crash landing was, for lack of a better term - trash. Compared to what the Galactic Horde had, Hordak was playing with leftover scraps. Hordak had integrated the Fright Zone’s Horde tech with Etherian tech, which was far less advanced. But you gotta work with what you got around.

For Hordak it must’ve been quite frustrating, trapped for just over thirty years, failing every time he tried, on a primitive planet in an unmapped section of space. For Hordak it must’ve been like a time-traveller attempting to build a time-machine with sticks and flint.

In that moment she shared his frustration, only the circumstance was flipped on her - a caveman working on a time machine. She comprehended about half of what was set before her. The actual keyboard was some interactive screen, that had no letters or symbols, and the keys weren’t in any logical pattern that was easy to use. Her knowledge came into play when she ripped the panel off, which exposed the machine’s guts in the from of wiring and circuit boards. Once she worked her magic the alarm stopped - hopefully that meant no more troops would arrive to slow her progress.

However, as she thought that, she noticed a dozen or so pods descend from the sides of the room. It had seemed that the alarm didn’t call for clones from across the warship, but rather from the hibernation chambers themselves. Entrapta was intrigued about their purpose. Were they for healing wounded? Keeping individuals from ageing? Refuelling their bodies? Perhaps all in one.

In any case, there was one pod in particular that managed to fully descend down to the floor. While others were stuck half way down. The green fluid began to drain out of the pod through the back, pouring out via multiple tubes attached to the back of the pod. There those tubes led to the conduits Entrapta was following previously. Once all the substance was drained out, the blurry glass-like capsule opened like a cocoon of a butterfly. Revealing a half-awake clone. Half-conscious. It was the only pod to open, Entrapta reasoned she must’ve turned off the security mechanism just in time, but the negative feedback must’ve been delayed, and so one guard managed to awaken, somewhat.

Entrapta stood up, her hair at the ready. She moved up to the alerted clone to check if he was a threat. The invading Princess hadn’t been paying much attention to the clones, she knew they weren’t him, but it still hurt. She shouldn’t think about him, as demonstrated moments ago she becomes greatly unfocused, if doing so.

But now, in the silent and still moment, Entrapta locked her gaze onto the unmoving clone. He didn’t move, or seem to acknowledge her presence infront of him. A strange gathering of emotions swelled inside her. She looked over the figure, he looked no different from any other clone, at least at first sight. He wore the same white, black and grey uniform - a flipped down hood, silver belt, a white robe and skirt with a black Horde insignia at the centre of his chest. And what looked like a black undergarment layer. His face was a cold scowl, his mouth a thin line and his green eyes narrowed. And then, a stray lock of hair gone rogue and separate from the rest, hanging down, with almost a curly look to it. She thought to herself, he looked almost like Hordak. But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been... could it? She cautiously stepped closer.

She stopped on the spot as she heard the clone give out a low growl. Entrapta had no idea if he could perceive her or if he was in a daydream-like state. She pulled out the crystal, her gift. From what she heard and understood from Glimmer’s story, which she pestered her about quite a lot, Entrapta learned the fate of the clones and Hordak, and it wasn’t reassuring. Entrapta questioned the pink Princess, she wanted to know everything there was to know about what happened. The way Glimmer described the clones was as if they were marionettes and puppets, their strings pulled by Horde Prime. He seemingly had the ability to control the clones with his mind, and erase memories from them, turning them into lifeless and brainwashed vessels.

No doubt that was Catra’s fate too. That’s why they set off, to save the cat. She saved Glimmer’s life and in turn Glimmer convinced Adora to give Catra one more chance at redemption, Bow followed because of course he did, he was in love with Glimmer, where ever she went, he went. Entrapta volunteered eagerly to go on the quest, and so she was put on the rescue team, they found her expertise essential. Entrapta herself wasn’t much invested in the actual rescue - you could say she still had a chip on her shoulder. The girl did taze her, and send her off to die, I mean she literally stabbed her in the back. Entrapta still had the burn scar on her back, a constant reminder of that day. Entrapta was mostly there for exploration of new tech and space. But the more she wanted to deny it the more she realised it was all a distraction from thinking about him.

So perhaps this was it, the push she needed. To confront him. For all this time she was avoiding him in her mind. Pretending like he didn’t exist for an entire month on the island. Now, she extended her hand to him so he could clearly see the crystal she was holding. She hoped that the gift would awaken something in him, some memory of her, of them. If those memories even still existed inside of him. Or if they were even genuine. She hoped so. She really did.

She hoped all those moments were real - all the First Ones technology that they examined together, upgrading the power grid, Hordak gifting her with the galaxy star maps, and most of all, all those long talks they had, where they exchanged and bounced ideas off of each other. She looked at those moments most fondly. Finally connecting with someone who understood her and her passions and didn’t just nod their head at her, someone who understood her. Someone who didn’t limit her.

“Hordak.” She began, but stopped immediately as she choked on air in her nervousness, she tried to find her words, “Is- Is that you?” The Princess asked full of worry, afraid of the answer, “Do- Do you remember me?”

Silence. She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it almost looked like he narrowed and squinted his eyes even more. He looked so grumpy. Entrapta got no answer of any kind so she went on with talking to him, maybe just to herself. She hoped something would stir inside him, “Hmmm, I guess not, but... I don’t know... I don’t know. I hoped it’d be like one of those fairy tales, the ones that have the Princess rescue their knight in shining armour from the clutches of the evil dragon. A tale as old as time. Those stories always had happy endings. Perhaps cliché, but they were nice. Stories with the hero managing to bring back their lover from death with the power of love that was inside of them all along or snapping them out of a trance or spell using just words. Not that we were lo- I just, you know. I liked you... Do- did you like me?” Or was I just a nuisance to you like to everyone else, she thought to herself. Her voice was shaky, nervous. She waited for anything, any reaction from the clone, anything, even anger. Just something. But there was nothing. No indication of life in the shell, “You really don’t remember me, do you? ...Maybe it’s not even you.”

Sadness washed over her face. She almost gave up, almost. However as she looked over him, for what she thought was the last time, she noticed his cheeks. His blue coloured skin was paler than normal. She moved to his side, tilted her head to look at the behind the scenes. Green glowing veins ran across his skin. Her eyes traced the veins to their source, the tubes and cables attached to his back and neck. The mad-scientist moved to re-move them. That was when she felt a hand stop her. The clone had gently grabbed her my the wrist, his expression finally changed. He was sorrowful and upset, with sadness and hopelessness in his toxic-waste-green eyes.

His voice was silent and weak, “Please, I don’t want to remember, Catra.” He said in a defeated tone.

Entrapta was shocked, he thought... So much changed in that moment, most of all Entrapta’s determination. She was right! She knew her lab-partner well. “It’s okay, Hordak. I need you to be a little stronger for just a little longer.” She said trying to rescue him from that brainwashed state. He shook his head in protest, but it did not stop Entrapta of Dryl. She used her hair to tug and yank and sever the conduits from Hordak’s body.

As she did so, his body took a shock from the disconnection, his body experienced a violent spasm and he fell to the floor at Entrapta’s feet.

She lowered herself to him, to aid him up. Hordak coughed and spat out globules of the green solution, he sounded like a drowning man gasping for air. And it seemed Hordak’s psyche managed to claw itself out of the liquid up to the surface, because as he looked up at Entrapta for the first real time after his death, a switch flipped in his head. He noticed her face and the crystal.

“...Entrapta... En- Entrapta! Y- You’re live!”

Hordak exclaimed in excitement and confusion, he did not know if his eyes were deceiving him, he thought surely his mind was playing tricks on him. Perhaps this was a fever dream, he shook his head, his body shuttered, he felt weak like he was about to faint. Or, his mind wandered to an even darker place, perhaps it was his Brother - torturing him again.

“You do remember me! I knew you would.” Entrapta replied happily, a smile on her face. She wanted to hold his hand, intertwin their fingers together, hold him, but she didn’t wish to touch him without his say so. It wasn’t the time yet, Hordak was still in shock.

Hordak saw her reach for his hand and he pulled back in panic. “No, no, no. Stop it. Stop it!” He shouted and placed his hands over his head, turned away from her and closed his eyes, “I want to forget! I want to forget! I want to forget!”

“Hordak?” She asked worried.

“Stop! This isn’t real. I know it’s not. She’s dead.” Entrapta pulled back, she was bewildered and perplexed. Dead? She had no idea how to even respond to that. He thought... She remembered when she talked to Glimmer she mentioned that Hordak submitted himself to Prime. Fell on his knees then on the floor. He was willing for this to happen, why?

“Hordak it’s me! It is! I’m here to rescue you, there’s an escape ship, and the others are making a distraction, we can escape! I just need you to come with me. Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you?”

Hordak shook his head, he clenched and grinded his teeth, it hurt for him to hear her voice, “Brother, please stop. I beg you, I pray to you, praise you! I gave you everything, told you all you wished to know, all I knew.” Entrapta was shook to her core, Hordak’s words scared her. She needed to find a way to make him see that it was her not Prime.

She opened her mouth, but she struggled to find any words for him. She sat down on the clean reflective floor next to him where he collapsed. She looked at him silently. Hordak was shaking and quivering. Her voice was quiet, “It’s me Hordak, Entrapta. Your lab-partner. ...Do you remember that day? The day you fainted in your Sanctum. We had been working together for about a year by then. You tried to scare me off, but you fell. I took you to your armchair and wrapped you up in a blanket, Imp watched over you while I left for the Fright Zone kitchen. He’s so adorable, so cute! Heh. He does this thing when he doesn’t want to eat, he makes this frowny face and turns up his nose. He looks just as grumpy as you... he looks just like you... He’s here by the way! Well not here here, he’s on our rescue ship. I found him in the ruins of the Fright Zone, poor thing was cold and clinging to that blanket and the crystal.”

Her pupils shifted to the side to watch Hordak, he was listening now, “I brought him in, cleaning him up. Emily’s taking care of him, looking after him.”

Finally, he responded, “That’s good.”

Entrapta continued, “When you came to, your face was so precious, scared, worried, confused, and a little angry, I’m sure. I know my soups weren’t uhm... eatable-”

“No, no, they were- they were good.” Hordak awkwardly murmured, always trying to defend her, even from her own remarks, he couldn’t stop himself.

Entrapta giggled, “It’s fine, I never had much practice cooking I always had a kitchen staff. The perks of being a Princess... Then you told me about yourself, you opened up to me. Something you hadn’t done to anyone else I imagine, I appreciated that. I made you some armour, you’re welcome by the way, no big deal. And you were really nice to me, in your own way. That gave me a good chuckle, just imagining you storming into a meeting of The Makers Guild and yelling at them. Calling them ‘utter fools’. HA! I practically see their scared faces! That’d show them.”

After a quiet moment Hordak turned to her, “I would have done it for you.”

“I know.” She replied. A deep nasty cough came from Hordak, so loud it rattled his bones. Everything hurt. Suddenly Entrapta was on alert again. But as she nudged closer, he pulled himself further away. That hurt. She continued on, “But I think we parted on bad terms, if you recall. You got angry at Adora, and lashed it out on me. That was the last time we met. The portal was finished, I worried you wouldn’t need me anymore. And my fears came true, or, well that was what I thought, until now. Minutes later I was stabbed in the back, literally, and I was shipped off to Beast Island, it should’ve been surprising but it wasn’t.” Entrapta fell silent, Hordak hated that he could read that look, as if that wasn’t the first time she was betrayed and cast aside, he knew that look.

“I was there for a month. Alone. Again, that should’ve been out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t, I’ve been alone for most my life. But somehow that one month was more painful than most of my life. Maybe because I felt like I lost something, something that was worth having.” Spirits fell even lower, Entrapta’s hair sank down, and Hordak’s ears drooped. “Then they saved me, the Princesses I mean, they needed me and now I feel like I owe the kids. If you know what I mean.” Hordak’s heart felt like it was about to leap out of his rip cage, he felt rotten and ashamed of himself - It should’ve been him, who saved her. It was that horrid feeling inside of him that grew tenfold with Entrapta’s next words, “...I was waiting for you. But you never came for me. So, naturally and logically I theorised... that you were in fact the reason why I ended up there.”

It was that feeling of shame and guilt that had led him to giving himself in to Prime’s purification - he couldn’t live without her, couldn’t live with himself. But he managed to respond, “I didn’t know.” Entrapta’s head lifted up, a confused expression on her face, she let him continue, “I am so sorry Entrapta. I was a fool. I shouldn’t have believed Catra’s lie, I should have seen through it. I should have rescued you. I failed you.” Hordak stood using the side of the pod to pull himself up. He gave out a terrible cough, a worse one than before. Entrapta too stood up, hoping he would go on.

He did, “That’s why I gave up. I couldn’t go on, knowing I failed you, knowing you died behind my back in my ignorance. I should have known better. I should have found out about the truth sooner. I am sorry.” He took one of the tubes, green Life Force dripping from it - he debated in his head if he should return to his brainwashed state. To end it again, for good this time.

Before he could reach behind his neck his hand was stayed, the small single tear on the edge of his eye was wiped away by Entrapta’s gloved hand, “What? Hordak explain, what do you mean, you didn’t know, what lie?” She took hold of him by his forearms.

Hordak blinked at her, stiff, his mouth slightly agape, “C- Catra, she told me you were the one who let the Princesses into the Fright Zone to stop me, that you betrayed me. When I learned the truth from Double Trouble it was too late, I thought you were dead or worse, and Prime had captured me.”

Entrapta stood infront of him silent looking at him dumbfounded, “And you believed her?!”

“I- I never had anyone stay by me. I was taught that I was worthless and repulsive, I always felt like having you by my side was too good to be true. It all felt like a rather pleasant dream. After the lie I thought to myself - of course she didn’t care, of course it was all a trick, she was a spy. I am unholy, impure, I am unworthy of such care... It was all too good to be true.”

Entrapta gave him a weak smile, “You do realise the irony of this situation don’t you? If only you loved yourself a little more we wouldn’t be here, Hordikins.” She said as she patted his chest. She gave off a weak chuckle, and Hordak responded with a faint smile. The brief moment was cut short by the sound of explosions in the distance, “Must be the kids, they’re sort of on their own quest on the other side of the ship... Wanna get out of here?” She asked with a warm smile, which melted Hordak’s heart.

Hordak seemed unsure and afraid, “I- I don’t know, you cannot hide from my Brother’s wrath, his will is universe spanning. Time, space and resources are no obstacle to him. His anger is limitless. He will not stop until impurities like us are all eradicated! I cannot keep you safe...” Entarpta gave him a firm look, one that stated clearly that she knew all that, and was willing to try anyway, she could take care of herself, and Hordak knew that. “Ah, to the Void with it! I might as well die living. Truly living. Apologies Entrapta I am not as well acquainted with the concepts of anarchy and rebellion as you are.” He stated sheepishly.

“You’ll learn.” Entrapta cheerfully replied, “Can you walk? Can you run?”

“Maybe.” He stated as a terrible cough shook him as if he was jello, he felt awful, like his chest was about to cave in. And his mind was becoming increasingly more foggy, “No.” Entrapta quickly picked up the crystal.

So it was decided, Entrapta quickly wrapped her hair around Hordak’s shaking body and carried him bridal style out of the room as she sprinted back to the ship. On their way they met some resistance, but it was nothing Entrapta couldn’t handle. Even Hordak helped in a few instances by transmitting an all-clear signal to his brothers, claiming to be escorting a prisoner. But it didn’t work every time, hence the usefulness of Entrapta’s violence. As time passed Hordak’s coughing became worse, louder and more violent. Both Entrapta and he realised his condition was worsening. She picked up her pace.

On the way they met up with the rest of the squad, which led to quite an awkward moment where both Catra, in Adora’s arms, and Hordak, in Entrapta’s arms, locked eyes with each other. And it was unbearable. Glimmer and Bow almost lost their minds at the sight of Entrapta rescuing a random clone. She mentioned that the clone could contain useful strategic data to help fight against Prime. There was no argument as they were being chased, and they were in a rush. She also did not mention it was Hordak. Catra could tell, however she didn’t say anything.

They ran into the ship and the auto-pilot immediately took off. The escape wasn’t priceless, the heavy laser fire from The Velvet Glove managed to break the ship’s shields and the hull sustained heavy damage. Which meant repairs were necessary, meaning they would have to land somewhere soon. But that wasn’t on Entrapta’s mind, she didn’t see that as a priority right in that moment.

Everyone went into their different rooms, Adora and Catra in one, Bow and Glimmer in another and then Entrapta and Hordak settled in some medical room. Entrapta locked the doors behind them so that no one would bother them. Entrapta gently placed Hordak on a medical bed to let him rest while she tried to figure out what was happening to him. He was getting worse. He began sweating, something Entrapta never saw happen to him. Neither was breathing, which he was doing heavily. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He was coughing and choking on nothing, with tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t say a word. His eyes were wide. They communicated a begging, and praying to her for help. Entrapta was panicing, what was causing this? Then she noticed his ports, or rather the skin around the ports - they were dry, withered, and shrivelled. A small faint hint of white veins emerging from that area.

Entrapta got an idea, although she wasn’t sure if it was a good one. She pulled out the test tube sample from her overalls, and eyed it. She had a dilemma at hand. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Her analysis was correct - corrosive, but addictive. Hordak needed the Life Force to survive, but it itself will destroy him from the inside anyhow... but at least it’ll buy him a little more time.

She popped off the cork. She lifted Hordak’s head, exposing his main neck port. Hordak closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain. She jammed the tube into it allowing the liquid to pure into Hordak. She hoped it would buy him and her some more time. Then - a final sharp cough that made him tremble and convulse, his body spasmed and jerked, and the horrid sequence ended with a gasp. Then the body settled and stayed. After a silent moment, Hordak opened his eyes. He looked around seeming confused by his surroundings. Then his eyes met Entrapta and they widened.

“Entrapta! You’re alive!”

At that moment Entrapta’s heart sank. She put on a fake, forced smile on her face as they had the same conversation all over again, and that wasn’t the last time that Hordak would forget, and the conversation would repeat. Over and over, and over again. Entrapta managed to sedate him and leave him to rest, she wouldn’t let Imp go into the room, she didn’t want Imp to see him like that. But she promised both Imp, and Hordak, every time he awoke, that she was going to find some way to help him. He believed her. Every time.

#entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #spop imp #spop emily #fanfiction

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brutal-nemesis · 3 years

Text

E&T: Unfamiliar

Things are finally gonna get LABBY boys, I’m fuckin excited. Also this got so fuckin long so I Apologize

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: noncon touching (like. a lot. but its unsexy), painful magical healing, unsexy nudity (bro just takes a shower it ain’t graphic), emeto mention, drugging, noncon surgery mention

PART II: Monster Without A Name

The things that hit him first were the brightness of the sun and the overwhelming heat. They had teleported into a sort of palace garden, similar to the one they had just left, but at the same time not similar at all. As Erebus was led away, he couldn’t help but look around in terrified fascination. Everything about this place was so different, from the color of the stones to the plants to the way people were dressed, making it clear just how far from home he was. He tried to focus on the allure of seeing so many new things instead of the feeling of isolation that was closing in on him.

Erebus knew that every step he took would lead him closer to his fate, but honestly, all had been lost the moment he had arrived in Taiyorum, so he let Rhys pull him along. He tried to remember the way, but there were so many twists and turns and steps going down and unfamiliar sights that he quickly got lost. Eventually, they stopped in front of a door. “I think I’ve got him from here,” Neteri said, taking the leash from the guard, “thanks, Rhys.” He nodded and left them. Erebus steeled himself as Neteri opened the door and ushered him inside.

The cell was larger than the one in Nathar, and Neteri hadn’t lied when she’d said it would be nicer, but then again that wasn’t a very hard requirement to meet. It had a bed along the right-hand wall and a desk on the left, with a small chest of drawers against the back wall. There was a door at the foot of the bed, though Erebus couldn’t quite see what it led to. He was too caught up in looking around to notice what Neteri was doing until he felt something cold clamp around his ankle. Why had he been expecting not to be chained up again? At least it wasn’t his wrists, and he would’ve been mortified if she had just attached the leash to the wall. Thankfully, she removed both it and the rope around just wrists. He stretched, happy to have his arms free for the first time in days.

“Alright, let’s get you fixed up for good. Do you need help taking your shirt off?” Erebus shook his head and gently pulled it off before sitting down in one of the two chairs in the room. She sat across from him and held out her hand. “Let me do your arm first.” He offered it to her, and she held onto his wrist as she gently unwound the bandage. She inspected the wound and nodded before placing two fingers on one end of the gash. “I know this is gonna hurt, but please try to keep your arm as still as possible.” Erebus nodded, bracing himself as she muttered the spell’s activation word, her fingertips beginning to glow faintly. She traced them slowly down the wound, and he gritted his teeth as an intense, itching pain lit up his arm. Thankfully, it was over soon enough, but he knew there was still a lot more to come.

His back was next, and he couldn’t help but wince as she removed the bandages around his torso, partially because of the pain and partially because the brand hadn’t mysteriously disappeared overnight as he had hoped. She had him turn around, and he hugged the back of the chair tightly as she healed each lash, pressing his forehead against the wood and fighting to keep himself from crying out. It was like he was being whipped all over again, each wound burning with agony as it was closed up. Every time he thought she might be done, she placed her fingers on another wound and the pain came back anew. After what felt like hours, she finally stopped. “You did great, Erebus! I think that was the hardest part, so your chest shouldn’t be as bad. We’re almost there.”

As far as the pain, she wasn’t exactly wrong. The healing of his chest was a little less intense, a little less itchy. But he had watched her start to trace the burns, daring to hope that the healing would erase them completely, and instead saw them morph into very prominent scars. He screwed his eyes shut, he couldn’t watch that symbol get put on him a second time. He gripped the sides of the chair tightly, reminding himself he wasn’t up on that podium, there weren’t hundreds of eyes trained on him, he wasn’t screaming in front of them all. When Neteri was finished, he pulled his shirt back on as quickly as he could, covering up the brand along with the memories.

“There we go! Now,” she stood and smoothed her skirt, “I have unpacking and whatnot to take care of, so I’ll be back in a few hours. In the meantime you can get yourself cleaned up.” She gestured to the closed door and then paused for a moment, narrowing her eyes. “You can, like, do that yourself, right?” Erebus nodded, giving her an odd look. He hadn’t been that pampered. She held her hands up defensively. “Okay, just making sure. Oh, and that chain is enchanted so clothes pass through it, which is great because that means you’re not stuck wearing the same pair of pants for forever! There should be clean clothes in there, by the way.” She pointed at the chest of drawers. “Alright I think that’s it. I’ll be back eventually.”

Once Neteri was gone, Erebus took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. He was tempted to just bury his face in the pillow and cry and process everything, but he knew he needed to wash all the blood and dirt off himself first. The door Neteri had pointed to led to a small bathroom. His gaze went to the left first, where there was a sink with a mirror above it.

Upon seeing his reflection in the mirror, Erebus flinched. It was the first time he’d seen himself since his capture, not that there was much left that he recognized. Gone was his long, beautiful hair, his fine clothes, his prince’s circlet, and the smile that he’d always worn so effortlessly. The person looking back at him was defeated, collared like an animal, his eyes filled with grief and dried blood smeared around his mouth. And while his short hair didn’t necessarily look bad, it still wasn’t him in the slightest. Maybe Erebus really had died two days ago, and this was just...some other person looking back at him. Unable to bear the sight anymore, he tore his gaze away and looked around the rest of the bathroom.

He didn’t see a bathtub, so he wasn’t exactly sure how Neteri expected him to wash himself. There was a drain in the floor near the wall across from the sink with a couple bottles of soap nearby. And there, on the wall, there was some sort of lever. He hesitantly pulled it, unsure if it was a door handle or what, and suddenly found himself being sprayed with water. He cried out and jumped back to find that the water didn’t follow him. It appeared to be coming out of an oddly shaped piece of metal protruding from the wall that he hadn’t noticed before. It was like...an intense little rainstorm. While part of him found this new technology interesting, the other part was disappointed he wouldn’t even get the comfort of a bath.

Regardless, he still wanted to get clean. He removed his now wet clothes and stepped back into the water. It was freezing cold, but he soon figured out that pulling the lever further down made the water warmer. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he started washing his hair. He’d always loved taking time to care for it, and now it barely took a minute. It shouldn’t be worth getting upset over, and he knew it would grow back, but he couldn’t help missing it. He just didn’t feel like himself without it. And as he moved onto washing his body, the feeling lingered.

Before he knew it he was scrubbing furiously, not just trying to get off the blood and grime, but the feeling of hands, ropes, chains, that he could still feel trapping him, forcing him towards this destiny he didn’t want any part of. But he couldn’t get it to go away, even as the physical reminders of his captivity washed off. No, that wasn’t entirely true either. His wrists were still chafed, his ankle was still chained to the wall, his chest was still branded, his neck still had that horrible collar around it, and his mouth was still very much missing a tongue. He couldn’t forget where he was or what had happened to him for a single second.

At some point he’d gotten off everything he could, so pulled the lever to stop the little rainstorm and dried off with the towel hanging on a nearby hook. He pulled a clean set of clothes out of the chest of drawers and got dressed. They weren’t anywhere near as nice as what he was used to, but they were an improvement compared to what he’d had on before. He collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. This was it, huh? Day after day he was going to wake up here and go through...experiments. He shuddered, pushing the thought out of his mind. Dwelling on it would only make him upset, and did not want Neteri coming back and seeing him sobbing. He’d already cried in front of her once today, and that was pathetic enough.

Upon searching the desk, he found a blank notebook and a pencil, so he busied himself with drawing cats and plants and writing his name. He was never the best artist, and people always told him the way he wrote the “r” in his name was strange, but it was something else to focus on. After a while, Neteri came back with a notebook of her own and looked at his scribblings with mild interest.

“Was that left in the desk? Huh. Well, whatever. I’m going to need you to stand up and take your shirt off again.” Erebus simply leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “What? It’s nothing painful, I just need to make some observations and take some measurements. And if you don’t cooperate I’ll just get Rhys again and we can take you down to the lab and strap you to the table.” She shrugged. “Either way.” Erebus sighed in defeat and did as she asked. He desperately wanted a break from being tied up and manhandled, and what Neteri wanted, even if it was a little humiliating, was harmless enough. At least it seemed that way, until she started.

Erebus had felt a bit objectified when Neteri had looked him over the first time that they met, but that was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. She was methodically scanning practically every part of him, making measurements and taking notes all the while. She grabbed and stroked and pulled and prodded with no regard whatsoever for his personal space. When she moved to study his chest, he leaned back, but she hooked a finger through the ring in his collar and pulled him close again. He shuddered as she ran her fingers over the brand, she had to be aware of how incredibly uncomfortable she was making him given the way she seemed to be writing down his every reaction.

He thought that’d be the worst of it, but once again he thought that too soon. Neteri pushed him so he was seated on the bed and started studying his face. He tried to turn away, but she grabbed his chin and forced him to face her. There was nothing he could do but stare intently at the corner of the ceiling as she pried his mouth open, no doubt studying what remained of his tongue. She even ran a finger along his teeth, paying particular attention to his canines. He desperately hoped that whatever she had planned wouldn’t involve messing with them. She moved to his eyes next, pulling at his eyelids and turning his head to force him to look her in the eye. He gave up trying to avoid her gaze and stared back. The way she was looking at him...it was as if she didn’t see him, just his eyes and his face, but not Erebus.

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed and she leaned back. “Why is your face so red? Wait...am I making you uncomfortable? I am, aren’t I?” Erebus instinctively smacked himself in the face with the palm of his hand, dragging it down a bit before nodding. She was looking at him that closely and just now noticed? What had she even been writing down, then? No, he didn’t want to know, he was certain it would just make him feel even more objectified. “Sorry, I just got sort of caught up in my note taking. I think I’ve got enough now. That was it for today so I’ll just...go.” Right then, as if on cue, Erebus’s stomach growled loudly.

“Oh wait, I haven’t fed you at all today, have I?” Erebus gave her an incredulous look and shook his head. “Shoot, sorry about that. I’ll run and get you something. Be right back!” She called over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room. Erebus sighed. Better late than never, but seriously? You’d think after how excited she was to...get ahold of him, she’d be a little more on top of things. His gaze fell on the notebook, and he belatedly realized he could’ve been using it to actually communicate with Neteri. The majority of the time he’d spent with her had been after... what she did to him...so being able to talk to her by any other means than making faces hadn’t even occurred to him. He spent a bit debating what he even wanted to say, but he eventually landed on a question he wasn’t even sure if he wanted the answer to.

When Neteri came back, profusely apologizing for her oversight, he handed her the notebook before he started eating. She squinted at it. “Is this supposed to be the letter ‘r’?” He sighed and nodded. “Your handwriting is weird. Anyway, to actually answer your question of what’s going to happen to you...I think a lot of things we’re just going to have to play it by ear. Nothing beyond that’s set in stone beyond the fact that you’ve got your first procedure tomorrow.” Erebus jumped out of his chair, backing up a few steps. His first what was when??! “I probably shouldn’t have told you that because now you’re just going to freak out. You know what, I’m gonna go grab you something, so finish your food.”

Erebus shakily tried to do as Neteri asked while she was gone, but fear and nervousness were starting to make him feel ill. He forced down as much as he could, knowing he really needed the nutrients. The word procedure kept echoing in his mind over and over. He’d known she was planning on doing that sort of thing to him, but it had seemed like some vague, horrific future that wouldn’t come to pass, and suddenly it was happening tomorrow, and any hope of rescue had been ripped away, and it was inevitable, the procedure was tomorrow, the procedure was tomorrow, the procedure was tomorrow-

“Hey, hey, you’re alright, you’re gonna be okay.” He jumped as Neteri started stroking his back; he hadn’t even heard her come in. “There, there, let’s get you to bed.” She helped him stand and walked him over the bed, forcing him to lie down. “This will help you sleep, so drink it, okay?” she pressed a small vial of dark blue liquid to his lips. He hesitated a bit, but ultimately drank it. As much as he didn’t want tomorrow to come, he’d rather get whatever hellish thing she had planned over with instead of agonizing all night. He closed his eyes as drowsiness overtook him, trying his best to pretend that the person stroking his hair wasn’t going to cut him open tomorrow.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump @galaxywhump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #neteri #whump #whump fic #lady whumper #noncon touching cw #painful healing #drugging #magical healing #emeto mention #this chapter of: neteri please act like a normal human person what the hell are you doing #maam you're in charge of a whole boy now please do a better job taking care of him #neteri really said ''personal space who?''#if you know what part ii is named after: shhhhhh #also: is rhys partially based on fucking wess from nailed it? perhaps #he is summoned when Needed #this also turned out like super long wtf #i can't believe this and ch5 were originally gonna be combined #they're both 2000+ words long :|#i didn't even have that much of an idea for this chapter!! just the healing and the measurement bits #but then it was just a lot of Erebus Has Emotions About Himself #bitch calm down you only lost literally everything and were publicly branded and taken away from your home #ch7 will be the end of an era 😔 those who ive told know what i mean #but it opens up Possibilities and whatnot also it is needed #i am in fact a more productive writer when im in school because i write to procrastinate on hw 🙃#seriously it's a problem im dying squirtle #i will soon share the erebus handwriting sample so we can all make fun of the way he writes his ''r''s #im sorry if this feels like disconnected at parts sometimes i have trouble assembling the monster

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darkenedreaper · 4 years

Text

So Was I

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Avengers x reader.

Warnings: angst, strong violence, language.

Part: 5/5

A/n: I’d like to state that I made up a few lines of poetry and I’m proud of myself.

For the time you had been taken it seemed like your body had been put under severe treatment. At this point you could’ve been gone for months. You recognised the big symbol that was painted onto the wall. Hydra. They had been testing on you, testing on the Avenger. Every day you’d go through a new pain until they found the right one. From what you could catch they were planning on using you as their next super soldier. They had obviously saw the News and what had happened and who did it to you, so they took their chance and succeeded. You were laying back onto the white bed, your arc reactor now had a new red vibranium lining on the outside of it and your new suit which stood beside you, was black, with the logo on the back. You felt stronger, stronger than you would after training, stronger than you would after once pinning Steve on his back. Steve. Steve Rogers, your enemy according to Hydra. And ‘let’s not forget’ they said ‘what that Russian Widow did you to you’. They now began another experiment on you, testing a new serum.

Back at the compound and above the ground. It had been 10 months, 3 weeks, 2 days 6 hours that you had been missing for. To say they were all ashamed would be an understatement.

Steve wanted to get away from his shield, he couldn’t look at it let alone touch it. On his wardrobe floor where he had placed it 10 months ago, it had pieces of the glass from your arc reactor surrounding it. From the impact, some of the glass had melted to his shield. He didn’t want to be reminded of it, but his tears for you couldn’t help but.

Tony nearly drunk his whole cabinet if it wasn’t for Bruce dragging him back to the lab. And then went Tony was alone, the man would cry.

Bruce didn’t want to focus on the thought of you being tortured, which you were or experimented on, which you were. But he did focus on doing everything to find your arc on the map somewhere.

Thor went back to Asgard and he didn’t want back to Asgard and he spat in everyone’s face that he didn’t want to talk to them unless the found you. His mother back at home was increasing getting worried of your absence.

Clint was home aswell to his wife and kids. Laura distanced herself from him whilst he was back there as she thought of you as family. The kids just drew drawings and tried to make their Daddy and Mommy feel better.

Wanda and Vision tried to buck up the team, but they were falling apart themselves and if they didn’t have each other, they’d be lost.

Bucky spent time on his own, he would stay in your room and sit in your chair, hoping you’d walk in the door and do his hair. He felt his arm was tainted but there was nothing he could do about that, so he tried his best to find you with Steve.

Natasha. She wallowed. She was dying inside. She wondered if the heartbreak she was going through was what you felt all those months, creeping around hiding from the team. If it was what you felt when she watched the shield drive into your heart. She didn’t dare go in your room. She couldn’t. She couldn’t look at herself.

She worked night and day trying to track you down, on every mission, in every country, yet all were failures.

They barely spoke to each other now. You affected them massively and they wanted their Y/N back. Whether you hated them or tried to kill them, they’d be so joyful that you were back.

Right now you felt best coursing through your veins and the machine that was attached around your head was slowly vanishing away your memories. You could feel all your knowledge slipping away from you. Your weaknesses being taken over from the amount of power your body had. You yelled out in pain as they would boost it up, clear it was working. A huge flash of light took over the large base and you were listening for your first command. You saw your Commander walk up to your face and he saw the change in your eyes. He snapped his fingers towards the leather straps that had metal chains wrapped over them. And you broke free from them. You hadn’t gotten taller perhaps a few inches, but your muscles were evident as your suit was placed onto you.

You were supplied with 4 guns and 3 knives. Your arc reactor had layers of protective and bulletproof glass coated over it. Now you were unbreakable. You didn’t have a name. You didn’t remember. You don’t remember your friends or if you had any, or any family. All you were focused on was your mission, the Avengers. And your main targets were ‘Captain America’ and ‘Black Widow’.

When you had been brainwashed they had managed to rid of everything except the torture the Avengers put you through. The heartbreak and physical damage. You were given your own jet and a black helmet with a red H on the front and you went off to the compound in search of one of your targets. And it wouldn’t take you long to get there.

Night had fallen at the Avengers compound and they were all in the sitting room. Silently watching a movie that no one was paying attention to. Jarvis seemed upset as he wouldn’t talk to anyone anymore, unless that was because she hadn’t been looked after for months. Friday nearly disabled herself because she was so mad at her boss. If she were a human she’d be looking for you non stop as you often had conversations with the AI.

They had all dragged each other for ‘bonding time’. They were so down and ashamed that no one heard heavy footsteps. Until Bucky picked up on the reflection and he sat up a smile on his face as it could be you.

And around the corner you came, every Avenger jumping up from their seats. No one noticed the Hydra suit because they were so focused on your breathing body. Until Natashas gaze landed on your eyes. She saw it wasn’t you, well it was. But right now you were a Hydra agent trying to kill the Avengers.

“Y/N!” Tony shouted with a big grin on his face. You pulled dour your gun and shot above his head and you would’ve gotten him if it wasn’t for Bucky pulling him away as they all scattered off in all directions. Right now you were behind a man known as Hulk. You were shooting everywhere at everyone who crossed your path or came into view. You were putting multiple holes in walls at once and you put your gun back and instead ran towards the coward and grabbed him t shirt nearly picking him up off the ground. You got out a knife from your thigh pocket and nearly jabbed it into him if it wasn’t for that voice that came from behind you and him.

“Y/N.”

You recognised the voice as Black Widow and she was a main target so you flung the other man into a wall, crashing him into the next room. You ran after her and you were nearly faster than her if it wasn’t for her jumping up into a vent. So you took a gun and starting shooting holes in the vents, hearing scurries of fear through the vents. Your super soldier hearing picked up on a whisper that came from East.

It was Tony and Wanda. They thought they were hidden as Tony was crawling towards the table with his iron fist on.

With one quick shot you blew it up. Wanda tried getting into your head but she couldn’t even get past the thick line of Hydra.

“Come on Y/N I made that! It’s Tin-Man you know me!”

He kept calling out a name you didn’t know and as he hit the wall you took a look at his arc reactor and looked at yours. You saw his hand pout from his to yours.

“The same. You see. It’s Tony.”

You put your hand around his throat and lifted him up, his head hitting the ceiling, and you started punching at his bright light. Groans, pleads and yells at you to stop game from his mouth but you soon threw him to the side aswell, discarding of him while he collapsed onto the floor. Watching you walk away, walking on the glass that had fallen from his reactor.

You went in search for the girl who was trying to break into your head and instead you ran into the man with the metal arm known as the Winter Solider. He was trying to call out your name trying to talk to you but you shut him up by grabbing him arm and jamming a piece of glass into his weak spot where the arm connected to the body. Footsteps were approaching and it was the girl again. You took a knife and held it in the air to jam into ‘Buckys’ throat but your knife was thrown across the room with some sort of red magic around it. You threw the limp body of the other super soldier towards the girl and she was too slow to react as he came crashing down into her.

The compound was a mess, glass everywhere, holes everywhere, a little spark came from a wire where your bullet had hit it.

Vision had also been seen to. He just approached you and you didn’t even acknowledge him so you just drove the bottom of your gun into his temple sending him down, and kicking him out of your way.

You would finish the targets of after you’d found your other two. You went towards the hangar where their jets were stored to see no one around.

Meanwhile, Steve was on his way down to you. His shield in his hands, not strapped onto him arm.

You knew who was behind you and pointed your gun to the troubled and saddened man who stopped in his tracks.

“Y/N. I know your in there.”

You walked up to him and smashed the gun into his face, making him fall onto his side, shield still in his hands. He got up.

“You’re not a Hydra agent. Your Y/N. Our family.”

With a grunt you hit his stomach with your fist, sending him flying backwards. He got up.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

And now you sent your boot into his chest and made him fall on his back. This time he struggled to get up.

You had punched and kicked him so far bad that you near the edge of the runway, splashed of the water hundreds of feet beneath you. He got up.

“I’m not gonna fight you.”

He tossed his shield away from him, trying to bring you back. His face was bleeding, his back was in agony and his suit was torn because of how far and harsh he skidded backwards.

“Your my friend.”

It was an odd feeling, one you hadn’t felt for months. Did you know him? Steve? No. He was your target right? And you went with your head. As soon as he saw movement from your feet dashing towards him, he didn’t move. If you were to kill him he wouldn’t envy you, he would’ve said he deserves it. His head didn’t hit the ground and he was now on the edge of the cliff with you above him, one fist balled into his suit and the other clenched.

“Your my mission.”

The first time he heard you speak in months and it was this.

After the first punch his eye had already began to close over. The second punch, his facial skin was torn. The third punch, both nostrils began to bleed. “Your.” The fourth punch his lip cut. “My.” The fifth punch, his lip bled out. “Mission!” The sixth punch sent his head lolling around.

You had to stop to consider if what you were doing was right. You knew this man. You knew them all.

“Then finish it.” His voice broke.

“Cause I’ll go with whatever your ordered.”

He even nodded confirming that it was okay for you to kill him.

He was talking about him being your target to kill. You were ready. You were so ready to throw him off the edge of it wasn’t for that voice.

Calling out a name. You turned your head and got up. The red head was standing. Arms crossed. She had fear and tears in her eyes. As soon as you stood quickly her arms unfolded like lightening.

She took a step back as you slowly approached her, getting a knife from your pocket.

“Y/N, this isn’t you. You need to listen to me. Y/N please.”

Your anger had slowly started to build again inside you.

“Stop saying that goddamn name it’s fucking pissing me off.”

Her mouth was bobbing open and closed. She wanted to sob at seeing how you were. She wanted to see those E/C eyes staring back at her instead of the blank ones that had one thing in mind.

“Do you not know me?” She was starting to walk back into the weapons room but she had no intention of doing any harm to you. And if you wanted to beat her and kill her then so be it. She’d let you. Your fist that was empty was slowly beginning to ball up but you couldn’t hit her and why? You didn’t know.

“моя любовь, пожалуйста, послушай меня.”

The Russian sentence of ‘my love please listen to me’.

It caused you to snap and you swung at her face, causing her to groan and stumble backwards.

“Do not tell me to listen to you. I’m not your fucking love.”

She wanted to cup her face as she felt the bruise appearing but that would be selfish after everything you’ve been through.

“Ты понимаешь русский мой дорогой”

‘Do you understand Russian my dear?’

You were never taught Russian at your Hydra base so why could you understand it. You took heavy breathes and you had a confused look on your face because your lip trembled and anger was painted onto your face again. You threw your fist at her again causing her head to snap backwards and blood tricked down her lip.

She was exhausted. The sleepless nights without you, the guilt drowning her. You ran towards her and she put her arms up to defend herself but you were quick to pull them down and you landed kicks to her side and plenty of hard punches to her ribs. By the time she had cornered herself she was sure a rib or two were broken. Her forehead was gashed and bleeding. Her sides hurt like hell and her neck was strained and had knots in the muscles because of how many times her head had flung back from the strength of your fists. You were still standing strong and unharmed and that was when you retrieved your knife again.

“Моя любовь, когда ты вернешься дома, только тогда я буду дышать, моя дорогая, когда ты узнаешь мое имя, только тогда я буду улыбаться. Когда ты вернешься ко мне, только тогда мое сердце ��оправится.” ‘My love, when you get home, only then will I breathe. My darling, when you know my name, only then will I smile. When you return to me, only then will my heart recover.’

You were lost in thought and you could hear voices just like hers whispering that into your ear late at night or when you had gotten back from a tough mission. You heard other voices. Buck? T? Banner? Wands? Vis? Stevie?

“Natasha?”

She had tears freely falling and she noticed your tight grip on your knife still. She nodded and she slowly approached you limping but smiling to herself as you didn’t tense or move backwards.

“But you hurt me.”

She nodded again as she was in front of you now, subtly slipping the knife from your hand. She took of your helmet and placed it on the floor alongside the knife. She could see it in your eyes. The good and bad memories coming back to you. But she could see hesitance.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m sorry but please stop this. This isn’t you Y/N, it never has been and never will be.”

You took in her words and started to accept her, not yet forgiving her and the team for what they had done to you. She knew you were still going to be a super soldier and she knows her and the teams’ actions were always going to haunt you. She placed her hand on your arc reactor and it felt like home. All she could do was hope. Hope that you still had forgiveness in your heart. Time would need to be taken for you to heal. For the hydra walls to break down. But she would be there for you. She’d do whatever it would take for you to forgive her, for her to get you back.

They all would.

(My gif use as you want)

@natasha-danvers @imnotasuperhero @aaron-despair @confusinggemini612 @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz @fcbarcelona-and-marvel-4-life @gaytrashgoblin @capmarvelq @nat-romanoffdanvers @lesbian-x-blackwidow @emilyprentisswife @captain-josslett @fayhar @oblivious-horny-lesbian @trikruismybitch @summergeezburr @username23345 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

#natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x reader angst

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sillyguyhotline · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Sara, having voted for Shin to die, in the classroom (or lab?) taking Joe's dog keychain

“Alright, it looks like this room is all clear,” Sara spoke up, just loud enough to alert the two allies who were trailing behind her. Ranmaru, bandaged hands shoved lazily into his pockets, gave a quick nod, and Keiji scratched his neck in assent.

She moved down the hallway, still rather cautious as to what traps could be sprung at a moment’s notice, finger poised carefully on the map. She couldn’t quite discern what kind of room was up ahead, and that only heightened her anxiety about what she was about to face… but nevertheless, she stepped a steady foot into the room.

Sitting before her was a painfully familiar sight, dredging up memories that, in any other circumstances, could have been fond. It was her old math classroom, without a doubt, the one she’d spent years sitting in with Joe sitting right beside her. She’d resented it once, because Ryoko wasn’t in the class with her and she was seated next to the most painfully cheerful person in their grade.

Oh, how she’d feared receiving endless mockery from Joe or her other classmates; after all, Joe was so peppy, so lovely, and she’d spent her school years stewing quietly in the corner of the room.

It felt silly to look back at those fears now, after how long Joe had been her best friend and after how many secrets and wonderful moments she’d entrusted him with.

It felt even sillier to look back on those regrets now that he was gone. She’d been so sure that she would have all the time in the world to make amends for those fears of him, that she’d have all the time in the world to shake him awake when he dozed off in math class or to fall asleep on the school rooftop during lunch as he kept a watchful eye on her, knowing how badly she needed that sleep.

Sara had been a very future-focused person, a stark contrast from her cheerful best friend, but he’d often shattered her intricate plans for university with his own proposals for how they’d live life after high school. Karaoke and doner kebabs every day, he’d suggest, or they could volunteer at the animal shelter.

“Imagine how much free time we’ll have when we’ve graduated,” Joe would daydream at lunch. “And we’ll have money, too! We can do whatever the hell we want, all day long, and nobody’s gonna be there to stop us.”

“You know, we’ll have to get a job in order to have money,” Sara would always counter, looking forward to the way his face would crinkle with disappointment at that response.

“Not necessarily,” Joe would say back, overdramatically raising his finger. “We could get a job play-testing things at the arcade and then we could spend our days doing that.”

Sara would roll her eyes and flick a chip crumb at him, and then the two of them would devolve into raucous laughter that couldn’t help but attract stares from their classmates. They’d taken the future so lightly, always believing that the only things laying ahead of them were university and work and retirement. They’d never once imagined a future that didn’t have the other in it.

But, Sara realized as she stood paralyzed on the threshold of this relic from a past she’d never be able to return to, some futures simply aren’t meant to be.

Had Joe come to that realization at any point, or had he died with peace in his heart? She couldn’t help but hope for the latter.

“Sara? You doin’ alright?” Keiji’s voice pierced through the room, and she glanced over her should to find him fixing her with a very concerned stare. She knew exactly what he was thinking, knew that it had probably taken him a mere glance around the room to realize what thoughts it was meant to bring.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She gave a confident nod, as much for her own sake as his, and stepped into the room. There was moonlight twinkling through the windows, almost a carbon copy of how the classroom had looked when she’d woken in it the night of the kidnapping. She’d always thought the school had looked a little odd in the darkness, a little too cold and empty for her tastes. Now, though, with the pang of loss still stinging through her brain, it seemed even colder and more unforgiving.

She stepped carefully through the room, fingers gliding over each desk as she walked past, trying to memorize the sensation of the grooves of wood against her hands. Slowly, carefully, she approached her desk... and found that there was a bookbag neatly perched in the seat right behind hers.

His seat, his bookbag.

“Hey, uh, you want me to check that out for you?” Ranmaru was quick to step forward and make the offer, face creased with worry. How much had he been told about the events of the game? Had he seen the portrait of the bloody boy in the same uniform as Sara’s and put two and two together?

Sara hesitated, then… “yeah, go ahead.”

Ranmaru nodded solemnly, then reached into the bag and rummaged around in it before pulling out a very familiar object. “What’s this? Some sort of… dog keychain?”

It was remarkable how different it felt to see the keychain without the plague of hallucinations constantly weighing on Sara’s shoulders. No more bloody apparitions stirring in Sara’s subconscious, no more nauseating guilt threatening to spill out. Just a heavy ache in her heart at the sight of all that was left of her best friend.

“Did this… did this belong to that Joe guy or somethin’?” Ranmaru gripped at the keychain a little tighter, turning it around in his hand to examine it, and there was a clench at Sara’s heart.

“Give me that, Ranmaru.” Keiji’s voice came out cold. “Sara, don’t look at it.”

“No… no, it’s fine.” Could they hear how raw her voice was? “I don’t have to deal with the hallucinations anymore. It’s alright.”

The other two of her allies fell deadly silent, and she could only pray that they would listen to her. It was true that the real keychain was still nestled snugly in her pocket, close to her heart where nobody could ever hope to hurt him again… but this was Joe. Copy or not, she’d grown fond of seeing that keychain in Joe’s pocket, knowing that it was a symbol of all his affection for her.

He couldn’t carry the keychain to graduation anymore. It had fallen into the timeless garbage pile of shattered promises and futures that would never come to be. But she would do her best to make sure that she kept his promise alive, even if he couldn’t.

“Ranmaru… please give that to me. It’s very… very special to me.”

Hesitantly, Ranmaru handed the keychain over, and she was swift to pocket it. Perhaps she’d be able to give one to Ryoko, as cheap as it would seem, and they’d both be able to cherish their own individual remnants of their extinguished sunshine.

“Can… can you guys leave the room for a bit? I know there’s more to explore, but… can I have a few minutes alone?” Her eyes were still fixated on the carefully-carved wood of the desk, refusing to meet theirs.

After a long, weighty pause, Keiji spoke up. “...Alright. But call out for help if anything happens. And don’t take too long. We still need to catch Midori, alright?”

“Alright.”

She waited with bated breath until their solid, clicking footsteps faded away and the door fell shut behind them… and sat down at her desk.

The silence of the room consumed her, broken only by the gentle whistle of automated wind pushing against the windows. They were far too underground, surely, for the night sky to be authentic, but even the quiet ambiance brought its own flavor of peace. Even in her own quiet solitude, she felt foolish tracing her fingers over the wood of the desk, wishing so stupidly that he might be there to listen to her.

“Hey, Joe,” she spoke up quietly. “I know… I promised I wouldn’t cry over you. I know you’ve never liked to see me cry, I know it makes you miserable… I’m sorry. I hope, wherever you are, if you can even hear me right now, I haven’t made you miserable. I certainly hope you aren’t punching yourself.” She let out a quiet, heavy laugh.

Oh, the burden was too much to bear, and she quickly reached for the dog keychain, the one she knew was real, the one snugly nestled up to her heart. She gazed into the beady eyes glinting in the moonlight, trying to reclaim her courage… and saw only his smile in that plastic one.

Joe’s dopey, foolish smile, the smile that was such a perfect brand of stupid that only he’d managed to master it. The smile he’d given her whenever he’d told a good joke that managed to make her laugh, or when something genuinely good happened and he was practically bursting with joy in anticipation of telling her.

She hated that the last time she’d seen that smile, it was bloodstained and heavy with exhaustion.

It was so foolish, that out of all of the things that could possibly still haunt her, his smile had done the trick. The clatter of the hairpin on the floor, the way she’d spun hoping upon hoping that maybe he was still alive, maybe she could salvage him and they could go home alive and happy… only to be greeted with that dumb, beautiful smile. Drained of life, eyes dull with the promise of death, mouth dripping blood, he’d beamed up at her with such happiness pushing against the pain… and then she’d watched him die, still smiling.

Stupid, stupid Joe Tazuna, who could smile even in the face of death if only so his best friend wouldn’t cry.

And she’d failed him.

She’d taken the hairpin, though, even blinded by tears and grief. It was just a bobby pin, one of the many he’d use to keep his hair up all day. She couldn’t begin to recount the amount of times she’d slept over at his house and watched him style his hair with gel and pins, grinning when he’d catch her eye in the mirror and wink at her. He’d always offered to style her hair, but she’d always refused, joking that she didn’t want her hair to look like his and giggling when he gasped in mock offense.

Now, though, her motions were slow as she closed her eyes and reached her hands up towards her head. Carefully, tenderly, she slipped the hairpin into her hair, tightly securing her braid. She could almost fool herself into thinking he was the one sitting behind her, doing her hair with such care and precision.

“I miss you so much, Joe,” she said, eyes closed. “God, I miss you more than I’ve missed anything in the world. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get us out alive. I know… wherever you are, you’re probably happier. I guess this was just never meant to be, huh?” Her voice broke. “It hurts to sit here and know you’re not sitting behind me, to know you’re never gonna sit behind me again. I know you’re gone, and I know I shouldn’t be crying over me, I should be smiling so you’re happy.”

She wiped her tears away with her sleeve, staining it a darker blue. “We’ve broken so many promises, haven’t we? But… I’m going to get out alive, and I’m going to tell Ryoko what happened, and I’m going to carry this keychain to graduation. That’s one promise I refuse to break.”

The tears took over, then, but as she cried the room grew a little warmer. For a fleeting second, there was the phantom weight of a warm, bangle-wearing hand on her shoulder. As she stood up, though, it dissolved, leaving only the whisper of her words behind and the vague echos of affection in her ears.

#yttd #your turn to die #joe tazuna #sara chidouin #ranmaru kageyama #keiji shinogi #My fic #yttd fic #depressobean’s asks #nacrene archaeologist

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 4 years

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I would like to revisit my alternate S5 ending...

...to address the villainous aspect of Lena’s character instead of ignoring it, in which case the big reveal leading to the final stretch of episodes being the superfriends finding a hidden server at the DEO that seems devoted to tracking and monitoring a secret convoy.

When they track it down, they crack open a freight truck to find it modified into a prison inside. A prison with a single prisoner.

Locked in a straightjacket and blinded by a dark hood, they can’t fathom who it might be. But when Supergirl wrenches the cell door off its hinges the bare feet that recoil in fear are delicate and pale.

A woman?

Kara reaches out with wary care, and gently removes the hood.

It takes her an eternal moment before she pieces the dark hair and pale skin and green eyes into the complete picture of Lena Luthor.

Except this Lena isn’t the one who glared at her from across her desk in the LuthorCorp headquarters not so long ago. This Lena has sallow skin and dark bruises under her eyes and limp hair and flinches away from Kara without looking at her... but it is Lena.

Kara reaches for Lena’s cheek, but flinches away when Lena kicks out, still without lifting her eyes. “Don’t touch me.”

The clink of a chain follows as Lena scoots away-- a repurposed leash that tethers her to the wall of the truck, barely a foot of give. This Lena is small and skittish of the bodies milling in the truck around them, pressing closer with dangerous intent, but it’s still...

“Lena?”

Bruised green eyes snap to Kara, locking on her face for a long shuddering moment before they drift to the symbol on her chest.

“K-Kara...”

Bruised green eyes fill with tears, and even though it doesn’t make sense, none of it makes sense, because this isn’t the woman who cried in anguish in the Fortress of Solitude, this isn’t the person who turned her back on Kara’s hologram, but it is the Lena who leans towards Kara for comfort as reality kicks in, and the tears spill over.

It is the Lena who Kara wraps her arms around, and holds her close.

---

In a Tower interrogation room, they learn Lena knows less than they do.

“I don’t know,” Lena tells them from across the table. “I woke up, in the-- in a lab, and my brother was there. He told me--”

Her eyes flicker to Kara, then away.

“He told me some awful things.”

She’d spent most of the time since exactly where they’d found her. Lex didn’t seem to want anything, except to keep her contained. Contained, and alone. But when they move the conversation to the medbay, where Alex examines her, she locks up, and can barely seem to breathe for all the equipment around her.

When Alex comes in with a syringe, Lena recoils. “No. No, no, no...”

“Whoa, hey,” Kara soothes, “it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s just a booster,” Alex says. “Cocktail shot of some vitamins and electrolytes.”

“See?” Kara holds Lena’s hand. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Lena’s eyes lock on Kara’s, but she doesn’t pull away when Alex moves back in for a second attempt. Kara brushes the hair from Lena’s forehead, hoping the touch will keep Lena focused on her rather than the needle. It works.

But when Lena starts to relax when the needle withdraws, it’s not in relief. Lena’s eyes grow wild with panic, even as they start to drift shut. “You said...”

Kara looks to Alex, and finds her sister’s features solemn and unyielding. Sudden anger flares at Alex’s lie, that Alex lied to her, but focuses instead comforting Lena.

“It’s okay,” she promises. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

---

“We don’t know who she is,” Alex defends herself later.

“She’s Lena, Alex.”

“So is the person who kidnapped J’onn’s brother and stole Myriad,” comes the counter. “Maybe she really doesn’t know anything, or maybe she does. Until we know exactly what is going on, she cannot be trusted.”

And so when Kara next visits Lena, it’s from the far side of the isolation cell glass. Lena sits curled in a ball, head on her knees, shoulders slumped in defeat.

“They don’t believe me.”

It’s not a question. There’s no doubt in Lena now. No more fear. She’s back in a situation she’s familiar with-- being contained, being controlled. There’s a bitter sense of comfort in it.

“Lex told me they wouldn’t,” Lena continues. “He was right. About them. About you.”

Just as with the Lena who sits at her desk in Luthorcorp headquarters, Kara can barely face the hurt in this Lena’s gaze. She almost looks away, but stops herself. This time, she holds Lena’s gaze, and faces the anguish she’d been unable to face the last time.

But this time, Lena isn’t looking for comfort.

“Go away.”

It’s not the second chance Kara hoped for. That second chance remains out of her reach as Lena turns away and doesn’t speak for days after. The only further information they get out of her is that her last memory before waking up in Lex’s lab is of her pulling the trigger on her brother. Of killing him.

“She doesn’t deserve to be here,” Kara argues to Alex. “I know you don’t trust her, but I do. I’m not saying we should just let her out on her own--” they have no idea why or how there are two Lena’s, but risking the two meeting would be a bad, bad idea. “What I’m saying is that she come stay with me. I’ll keep an eye on her, and maybe she’ll be able to trust us enough to give us more information.”

And so Lena soon finds herself standing awkwardly in the middle of Kara’s apartment. She looks around like she’s never been there before. Maybe she hasn’t. Or maybe she has, and she’s absorbing the minutiae of differences since her last visit.

Kara suspects the latter, when she sees Lena’s gaze linger on a photo of the most recent game night that scrolls across her sleeping laptop. It’s one she loves because it includes Winn. That it’s one without James and Lena both leaves her feeling empty.

But when another photo from that night scrolls across, a close up of Will, Kara, and Nia, Lena’s jaw tightens. When Lena averts her gaze, Kara catches a glimpse of anger, and an old guilt rears its ugly head in Kara’s chest. She should have been quicker to invite Lena into her life. Into their game nights, into her secret, into everything. Will’s quick acceptance of and by the group proves that the only thing that kept Lena at arm’s length was Kara’s own inhibitions.

Her own fear.

“Lena, I--”

“I assume I’m taking the couch,” Lena grumbles, forestalling any overture. “Or is this where the chains and dog cage come out?”

Kara swallows thickly, unable to completely deny Lena’s concerns as outlandish, as she’d had to talk Alex out of physical restraints for her guest.

“No,” Kara replies. “No chains. No cages.” She shrugs. “I trust you.”

A scoff is all the response she gets to that.

---

Lena picks at her dinner, and barely eats a morsel before ultimately putting her plate aside. When Kara clears up, she listens to Lena’s breath and heart rate, finding some semblance of relief when Lena finds a comfortable position on the couch and finally, finally relaxes.

She takes her time, allowing Lena extra minutes to herself. When Kara finally returns, she does so with a mug of tea in each hand. Lena simply stares at hers when Kara sets it down in front of her. Kara tries not to notice the way Lena’s eyes follow her as she curls up in the chair opposite the couch. She stirs her tea with a pensiveness that’s not entirely genuine.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

The question comes as quiet as a sigh.

“All I ever wanted was to be trusted, and you let me believe that I was--”

Lena’s voice cracks, making tears spring to Kara’s eyes.

“Lex really was right. Nothing I did was ever going to be enough for you.”

“That is not true.” Kara sits forward. “It was never about that. Never.”

A shrug lifts Lena’s sweatered shoulder. She still has yet to meet Kara’s eye. “No, it wasn’t.”

Because if it had been, Lena would have been told a thousand times over. Like she should have been.

“I was afraid, Lena.” Kara curls her hands around her mug. “I know that must seem so foolish to you, and it does to me too, now. But before I told you? The thought of losing you--”

“What have I ever done to make you think I would hate you?”

“Because… you do?”

“I hate that you weren’t the one who told me. I hate that the words came from my brother, as he lay dying in front of me after I shot him in the chest. That’s what I hate. Not you.”

Kara’s throat locks around a sob, her eyes filling with tears. “Lena…”

“I hate that of all the things my brother is, everything he’s done… I hate that he’s more honest than you are.”

In a single blink, the floodgates open. Tears spill down Kara’s cheeks and don’t stop. On silent feet, Kara moves to kneel at Lena’s side. Reaching for Lena’s hand is a risk, but one that rewards Kara with warm fingers in hers.

“I’m sorry, Lena.” Her voice scrapes and scratches-- there’s no defense in her, no way to hide the raw emotion spilling from her. “I am so sorry. I should have told you. I should have trusted you. Not just with my secret. I should have trusted that you-- that our friendship-- was stronger than that.”

Lena takes a shuddering breath, one that seizes in a sob. When Lena leans towards her, Kara wraps both arms around her. Thin arms hug her back, and bony shoulders wrack with silent sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Lena.”

And just like that-- they start to heal.

---

Their peace doesn’t last long. J’onn can only pretend to be Supergirl for so long before the real thing is needed. Lena’s trust in being trusted is put to the test: she spends Kara’s time away curled on the sofa, eyes on the door, just waiting for Alex’s team to burst in and take her back to the isolation cell. When the only person to enter is Kara six hours later with four pizzas, garlic breadsticks, and a two liter of MelloYello in hand, Lena almost starts crying all over again.

When their paths end up crossing, Kara finds interacting with the other Lena difficult-- she spends the limited exchange searching Lena’s face for any hint that she knows a version of her exists besides herself; that a version of her is sitting in Kara’s apartment, wearing an oversized hoodie and baggy blue jeans.

Kara can’t find any.

Kara knows that doesn’t mean anything.

She goes home that night and asks her version of Lena for a hug. Her version of Lena gives it-- slowly, but without hesitation.

One night, Kara returns home to a ransacked apartment devoid of any Lena. There’s no question who is behind it the blood Kara finds on her hardwood floors. Only one man knows this Lena exists. Only one man knows where Supergirl might keep a traumatized best friend.

And there’s only one person who can go up against Lex Luthor and have a hope of coming out on top.

So Kara goes to the Lena Luthor whose eyebrow lifts in derision at the sight of her, and tells her everything. She explains the second version of Lena they’d found and lost again, tells her how Lex is behind it all, shares how they still haven’t any idea why.

And that Lena stares at her as though she wants to accuse her of more lies, more subterfuge, but when her lips part, what falls out is “then let’s find out.”

They track Lex to one of his many bunkers that still exist in this reality, and there they find him with the second Lena (or maybe the first, Kara’s still not sure). The Lena’s stare at each other, one with more surprise than the other. Kara supposes it’s hard to be surprised when one is cuffed hand and foot, with a collar around your neck.

Lex, for his part, only smiles. “Hey, sis.”

The chain connecting to the collar around Lena’s neck retracts into the ceiling, pulling her to the very tips of her toes and leaving her choking for breath. Kara shoots forward, but the area around the dangling Lena glows green with Kryptonite, effectively grinding her to a halt before she staggers back to be caught by the other Lena.

“Why?” that Lena asks her brother. “What good could having two of me possibly be to you when you don’t let one out of your sight?”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Lex returns. “I didn’t double you, god no. Why would I double my work trying to control you? No, I reduced you. By half.”

Shock ripples through them both. The sight of it makes Lex chuckle.

“You always had such potential, ace. But your judgement was always clouded by empathy-- you were always soft. But brilliant. Brilliant enough to figure me out. Splitting all of that between two of you, well… it made you far more pliable.”

“But…” Kara gasps. “How?”

Lex lifts a brow in an expression eerily like Lena’s. “You of all people should have figured it out by now, Supergirl.”

Just like that, the pieces click into place.

“The harun’el.”

The same mineral that once split Kara herself. The same mineral Lena spent months working with. Rao.

Lea leans towards her. “He means…?”

“Red Daughter,” Kara confirms.

She can still see her. Sometimes Kara dreams of her, still feels the weight of her body evaporating from her arms as she holds her dying counterpart.

Kara looks at Lena, sees her eyes dark with thought as they travel from Kara to her dangling twin, then to Lex. Lex receives her silent gaze with an almost proud grin.

“But I gotta say, sis, even I never imagined you’d go as far as Non Nocere.”

Kara staggers to take her own weight, freeing Lena to approach her brother. Whatever Kara expected Lena to say or do in confronting Lex, it wasn’t the sight of long fingers snatching a scalpel from a table as she passed, or for the movement to be so blatant that Lex would see it coming.

“Oh, come now, Lena,” Lex chides. “At least you were smart enough to bring a gun last time.”

Lena lifts the blade towards him, but her features twist into a smirk. “What makes you think this is for you?”

Before anyone has time to react, Lena lifts the blade and plunges it deep into her own throat.

“NO!” Lex and Kara cry in unison.

Kara moves faster, catching Lena as she falls. She cradles her friend in her arms, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Lena… why?”

“I refuse…” Lena gasps, “to be less...”

“What if--?”

“I’m not the copy?” Lena gurgles slightly through the blood filling her throat. It bubbles to her lips, staining them an unnatural red. “I’m the one he kept around. Just like…”

She coughs, unable to finish. Kara does it for her.

“Just like Red Daughter.”

Lena features droop, gray with increasing blood loss. “Don’t… let him… win…”

With her last crackling breath, Lena’s form melts away just like Red Daughter’s, misting into a purple ether that lifts from Kara’s arms and chases towards where Lena still hangs on the tips of her toes. The violet energy sinks into her, illuminating her entire frame for a split second before it pulses out of her in a violent burst that disintegrates her bonds and drops her to her knees, choking for breath.

Kara intercepts Lex when he makes a run for it-- she grabs him by the collar and tosses him back towards his sister, who still glows with unearthly light. He struggles to his knees as Lena climbs to her feet, eyes glowing with power.

“Okay, Lena, listen to me-- I just wanted the best for you. For us to be working together, just like we used to--!”

Lena roars. She roars so loud that Kara covers her ears under the onslaught, and peers through slitted eyes as the power of the harun’el funnels into Lena’s hands, mouth and hands, firing a single combined blast towards her cowering brother. It consumes him entirely.

When the light under Lena’s skin finally wanes, there is nothing left of Lex-- not even a scorch mark. In the silence that follows, Lena sags to her knees once more, exhausted.

Green eyes meet Kara’s, heavy and full of emotion Kara can’t quite decipher.

“I’m sorry,” Lena murmurs. “For everything.”

Kara staggers towards her, and collapses to her knees beside Lena. She wraps Lena in a fierce hug, tears still damp on her cheeks.

Lena’s alive. This time, Lena is whole.

Kara would have asked for nothing else in the world.

---

It doesn’t take long for normalcy to return after that. Lena steps up as the CEO she’s meant to be, and it’s less than a month before she announces her intent to rebrand LuthorCorp as L-Corp. Supergirl resumes her full duties, and this time does so with a true ally in Lena.

Still, there’s a hesitation in her chest when she arrives at Lena’s office one afternoon as Kara Danvers. She has Big Belly Burger in one hand, and kombucha in the other, the only peace offerings she can think to bring besides her heart, ready to be given if asked.

She steps into the room with said heart in her throat, and almost swallows her tongue when Lena’s gaze snaps up to her and freezes for a split second before softening in recognition. The smile that follows is as gentle as the first rays of sunlight on an early sunday morning, and warms Kara just as completely.

“Hey you,” Lena greets quietly. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

It takes a long moment for Kara to realize she means Kara Danvers-- it’s been too long since Kara has been anything but Supergirl in front of Lena, even when she wasn’t wearing the cape.

“Yeah,” Kara agrees. “Sorry about that.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, until Kara lifts the heavy bag in her right hand. “Big Belly?”

Lena’s features warm.

“I knew there was a reason you’re my favorite.”

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imaginetonyandbucky · 3 years

Text

(Give Me A) Reason To Live

Chapter 2

by @dracusfyre

“Do you know where they are planning to take him?” James asked as he headed for the stairs up to his room. Tony started to follow him then realized that James was going to drop his towel to get dressed and after a moment of temptation, stayed at the bottom of the stairs instead.

“SHIELD facility in New York,” Tony called up, trying very hard to concentrate on anything except what his imagination was currently trying to show him regarding a naked James next to a bed.

“SHIELD SHIELD, or Hydra SHIELD?” James said from above, voice slightly muffled.

“SHIELD SHIELD, as far as I can tell,” Tony said. “Fury himself is taking the lead, for now. But there’s always the question of what will happen after he wakes up, and I’m sure Hydra will be trying to weasel themselves into those plans.”

“True.” James jogged back down the stairs, his shirt clinging to damp skin and hair pulled away from his face. “So what do you think? Intercept before or after he wakes up?”

“After, I think.” Tony led him downstairs to the lab, where James had his own computer setup. He sat down at it and powered it on while Tony fired up the fancy coffee machine in the back of the room. “I mean, we have no idea how to thaw out someone safely, and no equipment to do so if we did.”

“True.” James pulled up the Hydra files and read the message that had sent Tony racing up the stairs, then started searching for the exact location of the Valkyrie and the NY SHIELD office to start planning. After a few weeks of fits and starts due to poor communication, they had finally settled into a good division of labor: Tony dug through the files for appropriate targets and when he had them, James would come up with the actual plan of attack. “The exfil will be a lot easier if he’s awake.”

Tony nodded and silence reigned for a long time, broken only by the sound of keyboards and James occasionally making notes. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep at his desk until James shook him awake and herded him to bed. He’d been having a dream about Captain America, some fuzzy half-remembered thing where the man was scolding him for something, then he had turned into Tony’s father and sent Tony to his room. You didn’t have to be a shrink to pick up on that symbolism, Tony thought as he fell into bed.

“You should get undressed,” James said and Tony froze, suddenly wide awake as his heart hammered. Did he really…?

“What?” He managed, rolling over to look up at James.

Who raised an eyebrow and pointed to Tony’s feet. “You’re still wearing the shoes we went hiking in,” he pointed out, and Tony let his head fall back against the pillows as his face got hot.

“Right,” he mumbled, and toed them off to fall on the floor. James was still standing there, looking expectant, so with a put-upon sigh Tony sat up and started peeling off the rest of his clothes as well.

“This is going to change everything, isn’t it?” he said as James started to leave. “This thing with Cap?”

James hesitated at the door, the hand on the door frame gleaming in the dim light from the computers in the next room. “Get some sleep, Tony,” he said after a moment. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

There was that sick feeling again. Tony tossed his clothes in the corner and fell back into bed, and recited the digits of pi until he fell asleep.

~~~~~

By the time Tony woke up and stumbled up the stairs, James was awake and thankfully already making breakfast. He shuffled up to the kitchen table and muttered a thanks as James slid a cup of coffee across the table. James knew better than to attempt conversation before Tony was ready, so they sat and ate in silence until Tony was finally awake enough to say, “Any news?”

“Nothing much. They needed special equipment to break through the ice without destabilizing the plane and sending it to the bottom of the ocean,” James said between bites of pancake.

“So we’ve got time?”

“Little bit.”

“Got a plan?” At that, James tilted his head back and forth in an eh, sort of motion. “What do you need?”

“More intel.”

Tony just grunted and finished off his coffee. If James still had questions they would be ready and waiting for Tony downstairs, and since they had time, Tony needed at least one more cup of coffee before dealing with that. He pushed away from the table and put his plate in the dishwasher, then refilled his coffee and sat back down while James kept eating. This was another good system that they’d figured out over the past year; James ate twice as much as Tony, at least, to power that supersoldier metabolism, which worked out because by the time James was done eating, Tony was finished with his second cup of coffee and they were both ready to start the day. “Hey, where’s he going to sleep?” Tony blurted out without thinking, then cringed. “Nevermind, that’s a stupid question.”

James just shrugged as he used his last bite to sop up some maple syrup. “Dunno. One of us will have to double bunk with someone, or take the couch, or get another mattress. Does it matter?”

“No, of course not.”

But James was eyeing him thoughtfully. “Is that what you meant? Last night?”

“Huh?”

“You said this was going to change everything.”

“Oh.” Tony looked down at his coffee cup to avoid James’ eyes. “I, uh, I meant we’re not going to be able to fly under the radar anymore, you know? After stealing Captain America out from under SHIELD and Hydra’s noses.”

“True.” As James picked up his plate and put it in the dishwasher as well, he said, “You should call him Steve. We’re rescuing Steve Rogers, not Captain America.”

Right. Of course. Like Tony could forget that James and Cap- Steve had a past. “Yeah, sure, sorry,” Tony muttered, taking a sip of coffee against the sour taste in his mouth. “I’ll head downstairs and get started on that intel.”

Once downstairs, he could see why James had left these questions to him. Questions like finding the building plans for the SHIELD facility and learning which personnel were going to be assigned to Steve were going to take some hacking to find out. Fortunately, when it came to SHIELD, Hydra was already infested in their systems, and Tony had a backdoor to Hydra, so by lunch time he was jogging back up the stairs to tell James what he’d found and almost tripped over a Barret MK22.

“Careful,” James said, sitting at the center of what looked like an explosion in a firearms factory. “I thought you’d be down there for longer.”

“Packing for the trip?” Tony asked, stepping carefully around the sniper rifle and picking his way through the rest of James’ collection towards the kitchen.

“Planning. Trying to figure out what we might need to pick up before we go.”

“I got that info for you, if that helps your planning.” Tony took one of the many frozen meals out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. “Looks like they are keeping this information pretty close to the chest, which is good for us. Not going to be a lot of attention on him when it comes time to do our thing.” James only made an absent noise, clearly still lost in thought as he stared at a stack of C4, so for a while there was only the humming of the microwave until Tony got impatient and opened the door early. “I’ll be downstairs,” he told James as he grabbed a fork and gingerly picked up his molten hot lasagna.

“I’m coming,” James said, getting to his feet with a smooth, easy motion that made Tony feel every one of his years. Tony settled down in his computer chair as James stood behind him, leaving Tony with a prickling awareness of how close he was. Tony took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled up the report he’d slapped together. First was the building plan, and after it got James’ nod of approval Tony sent it to the jumbo printer because he knew that James liked to work off of hard copies. Next was a series of internal shield memos proposing a variety of plans for what to do when Steve woke up, and James snorted derisively as he read them. “Not a single one of these people know anything about Steve, do they?”

“I mean, only what they learned from history books, I guess. What would you do?”

“You mean what am I going to do? I’m going to say, ‘Wake the fuck up, Steve, we gotta get out of here now follow me.’”

Tony laughed and saw James’ mouth curl up at the corners. “Simple and effective. I like it.” Since SHIELD was still trying to decide its plan of action, Tony dismissed the emails and started pulling up the personnel list. Like he’d said, it wasn’t long; SHIELD was playing this one close to the vest for now.

“Wait.” Tony immediately stopped scrolling as James leaned over his shoulder, smelling like shower soap and gun oil. “I know her,” James said, frowning. He pointed at the redhead. “Who is she?”

“Well, her SHIELD ID says Natalie Rushman,” Tony said. “Is she Hydra?”

“No…” James said slowly, eyebrows drawing together as he tried to remember. Many of his memories had come back surprisingly quickly once they’d escaped Hydra, making for some really touch-and-go moments in the early months as James had often woken up screaming from nightmares and had wandered around the cabin hollow-eyed and haunted. Going into the woods had been his escape in those days, and he’d only told Tony what he was up to after Tony had gotten cabin fever and decided to go for a hike and figure out what all the hype was about with fresh air and nature. “I think I shot her once.”

“Think she’d know your face?”

“Maybe.” Tony could tell that James was still frustrated by the almost-there memory so he left the image up on the screen for him to stare at.

“That’ll be a complication, since she’s part of his reintegration team,” Tony mused. “Strangely enough, I guess that means between the two of us, I’ll be the one least likely to be recognized. Not something I ever thought I’d say.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Um…” Tony squinted at James and realized that obviously James wouldn’t know much about Tony’s past, other than what he’d told him or what James would have seen in the Hydra files. Especially if it hadn’t occurred to James to look him up on the internet, which he guessed was possible. “I was, uh, kind of a celebrity.”

“What for? Were you a movie star or something?”

Tony made a face. He didn’t want to admit that he was mostly famous for a series of sex scandals to someone who had personally known Captain America. “Nothing good,” he said finally. “Stupid stuff.” No chance James wasn’t going to Google him now, but at least he wouldn’t have to explain to James’ face why there were so many pictures on the internet of him naked. Thankfully, James just shrugged, apparently willing to leave it at that, so Tony quickly went through the rest of the items on James’ list. There was also no further updates on the efforts to get Steve out of the ice, so they were officially in Tony’s least favorite part of any operation: the hurry up and wait part.

With nothing else to do in the lab, Tony set JARVIS to keep an eye on any further communication and followed James back up the stairs. Since the couch was the only part of the living room that wasn’t covered in some kind of weapon, Tony perched on it and turned on the TV while James organized his collection. Making sad noises at James got him his forgotten lasagna from downstairs with the low, low cost of grumbling and an eye roll, leaving Tony to have a pleasant couple of hours hanging out in companionable silence with James. At some point, James had changed position to lean against the couch while sitting on the floor, which had meant that his back was pressing against Tony’s leg, warm and solid and something Tony only thought about every 15 seconds or so for a solid hour.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” James said after a while, sitting up and sadly moving away from Tony as he started to put away the weapons, sorting them into piles and returning some to their hiding places. “About this operation breaking our cover.”

“Yeah?”

“Your suit. Could you make it flashy?”

“Flashy?” Tony echoed in confusion. He had a couple of suit builds now, based on the various types of missions they went on, but all of them were matte black and had a rubberized exterior to reduce the noise and radar profile. “I mean, sure, that wouldn’t be hard. But why?”

“Our best bet might be for you to create a distraction, and I think you zooming down 5th Avenue would be a good distraction.”

Tony stared at him, stomach turning as his whole body went hot and cold with fear. “No,” he said shakily, turning away from James and sliding further into the couch, staring resolutely at the TV screen. “No fucking way.” Tony pulled the blanket tighter around himself, curling into a ball. Everything depended on him not being seen, on Hydra not knowing he was alive. Everything. How could James not know that? Was Tony supposed to jump at the chance to sacrifice himself for Steve? Because one look at the suit and Hydra would know, Stane would know, and then– then-

A sudden warm hand on his shoulder made him jump and lash out. When his hands only met hard muscle fight turned to flight and he scrambled away. But as he tried to get to his feet he tripped over a blanket and hit the floor hard, knocking the wind out of him. His heart was pounding in his ears but eventually he heard James talking to him, saying “Tony, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, just wait,” and that was like a bucket of water to the face. He realized he was sweating and his breathing was fast and shallow, and as he looked up at James he felt the hot crawl of humiliation.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly as he climbed to his feet. “I’m going to take a shower.” He could feel the pressure of James’ eyes and his silence against his back as he went to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He shook for a while, leaning against the bathroom door, before he finally managed to turn on the shower.

The awkwardness lasted until dinner, with James clearly wanting to say something but unsure how to bring it up, and Tony too embarrassed to meet his eye or give him an opening. Thankfully, JARVIS gave them an update halfway through dinner, and the tension eased as conversation turned towards their plan. Since James had cooked, Tony reluctantly got up to do the dishes, only to have James gently crowd him away from the sink. “You need to get ready for the mission,” James pointed out, which was a flimsy excuse because it didn’t take that long to get the suit ready to go now that Tony had figured out how to make it deploy from something the size of a suitcase, but Tony didn’t argue. He hated doing dishes.

It was also better than staying upstairs and risking that James would say something, so he went downstairs to prep the suit. Once down there, though, he slowed as he approached the Mark VII, remembering James’ suggestion earlier. Though the thought still make his limbs feel weak and his heart race, he forced himself to sit down and consider the idea instead of running from it. He knew what James had been trying to suggest; he could get the attention of the police and any SHIELD agents in the area and draw them away from James while he rescued Steve. He could even put a few holes in the building to cover their escape then disappear as soon as they were clear. It was smart, it was simple, and it was fucking terrifying.

Though there was no escaping the fact that Tony had put in a lot of effort making sure Hydra would think he was dead, and this was going to undo all of that work. “Fuck,” Tony groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. It wasn’t like James wasn’t risking everything, too, but apparently he was willing to let Tony take the cowards way out even if it made their plan harder. “JARVIS,” he said finally, voice muffled behind his hands. “Warm up the machines, we’re modifying one of the suits. We’re changing up the armor.” What was an eye-catching color? Probably red, a bright red. All the better to wave himself in front of the metaphorical bull. But all red would look like shit. “Red and gold,” Tony said finally. “Make me a mockup of the armor in red and gold.”

#winteriron #tony x bucky #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Escape

Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.

Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut

Chapter 12

******

A lab. A safehouse. A barn. A warehouse. Hell you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d ended up in a empty field. But a diner? You didn’t expect to be here.

Scott, Steve, and Natasha seemed more interested in the Doctor.

You can’t say you’re shocked. After the very obvious complications he was having before, you figured he’d end up fixing it. Seeing the Hulk so, human, was different but not surprising.

“Come on, I feel like I'm the only one eating.” He nudges the plate towards you and Natasha,“ try some of that. Have some eggs.”

You raise an eyebrow at the people at the table before looking at the plate. With a shrug, you grab a fork and eat some eggs. Finding that they taste pretty good, you eat some more.

Natasha smiles a little at you, shaking her head and then looking at Bruce.

“I’m so confused.” Scott is the first to speak.

Bruce nods,“ these are confusing times.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean.”

With a sigh, Bruce says,“ no, I get it. I'm kidding! I know. It's crazy. I'm wearing shirts now.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that. Of all the confusing things that’s going on with the man, wearing clothes isn’t that big a deal.

“Yeah!” Scott exclaims,“ wh- How? Why?” He frowns.

A somber expression takes over Bruce’s face,“ five years ago, we got our asses beaten. Except it was worse for me. Because I lost twice. First, Hulk lost, then Banner lost. Then, we all lost.”

There’s no part of you that could one hundred percent understand what Bruce had felt during all of that. Still, if it hurt you to lose to Thanos, you know it’s so much worse for him.

“No one blamed you, Bruce.” Your wife tries reassuring him.

Still, he shakes his head,“ I did.” He explains his acceptance of the hulk, briefly mentions the process of doing so, and expresses his pride of becoming this better version of himself.

You have to admit that it is nice to see that he’s doing better.

Conversation stops at the presence of three little kids. They take a picture with Bruce and then get into a small spat with Scott before leaving.

Eventually Steve directs the conversation back to the important topic. Only for Bruce to point out that’s a little above his paygrade.

“You managed to pull this off. I remember a time where this seemed pretty impossible too.” Natasha encourages.

Bruce’s eyes watch her, trusting the emotion in her eyes. With one look around the table, taking in Scott and Steve’s hopeful expressions, he agrees to come back to the compound to try.

Still you all don’t leave until Bruce is finished eating. You’d helped put away some of the food, eating some more eggs and a couple sausages but steering clear of the overly large pancakes.

Minutes later you’re all climbing into the Quinjet. Natasha and Steve both head to the pilots seats leaving you, Bruce, and Scott behind.

You’re already sitting and paging through a book noncommittally when Bruce decides to join you. He sits in the two chairs beside, resting back on the chair and the wall.

“Sup Doc.” You greet, shutting the book and looking up at him.

“Hey Y/N, how you been?”

A thoughtful expression passes your face,“ truthfully better than ever.”

“That’s great.” He nods, looking over at Natasha,“ I’m guessing married life is treating you well.”

Your eyes fall over to your wife as well,“ it has it’s ups and downs. But I couldn’t be happier.”

While there use to be a longing look on his face you can now see how he’s simply happy that Natasha is happy.

Conversation between you two shifts from Natasha to the “time heist” as Scott calls it.

“Be honest, do you think this’ll work?” You ask him quietly.

A frustrated hand runs up his face and through his hair,“ there’s a chance.”

“Bruce. There’s a ‘chance’ to fix climate change. There’s a ‘chance’ to solve poverty. I’m gonna need this to be a little more than a chance for me to trust this plan.”

“Sorry Y/N, that’s all I can give you.”

Shaking your head, you slouch in your seat.

Thoughts race through your mind, all of them connected to one single thought. You don’t want Natasha to get hurt again.

Losing the first time shook her, nearly destroyed her and you’d struggled to pick up the pieces it left her in. At times you knew that even though she took comfort in your presence and she appreciated you being there, it wasn’t enough. And as much as you hate to admit it, you still aren’t enough.

Natasha loves you and you’d never deny or doubt that but you’d never be able to replace or even fill the gap of the family she’d lost. Brothers and sisters, her friends and partners.

You see the hope filling her and the last thing you want is for her to be let down. Essentially having to lose all over again.

By the time you get to the compound the sun is setting.

With the sky painted in shades of yellow and red, you decide to go to the roof. A slight breeze makes it just barely chilly so you continue on, sitting yourself on the roof’s ledge and looking out over the lake.

Taking a deep breath, you sort through your thoughts.

Admittedly you start to feel bad, almost upset with yourself. It’s so incredibly selfish of you to prioritize Natasha over the rest of the universe. You’re not wishing that the world stay this way but you’ve managed to have more than you could’ve ever wanted and the prospect of an even better future with Natasha hangs in the balance of this plan.

You can’t help but think that you’ve gone from one extreme to the other. In the past you’d completely disregarded your desires, so much so that you allowed yourself to be used by HYDRA and the KGB. And now you’re so sure of what you want that you’re borderline willing to leave things the way they are.

In truth, all you need is assurance. You need a guarantee that this will work with little to no consequences. Natasha needs to be safe from any possible downfalls. Your new found friends and family can’t be in harms way at all. It’d be ideal to save yourself.

Part of you knows that if you have to sacrifice yourself to ensure Natasha gets everything she could ever want, you will. Insane really, since your point is to not lose her, but if it meant her happiness it’d be worth it.

Lost in thought, you don’t pay attention to the door that opens and shuts. Nor do you anticipate the presence of the blonde behind you.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you’ve been so quiet about all of this.”

Turning around, your eyes trail over Steve’s tall and muscular form. You sigh and face forward again.

Steve moves to sit beside you,“ I didn’t miss what you said at Tony’s. And I don’t know much of anything about your past, still I assume you’ve gone through a lot so risking what you have now with Natasha isn’t ideal.”

You scoff,“ ideal? No Steve, it’s not an option. Don’t get me wrong, I want to help bring everyone back, I lost people too, but we don’t even know if this will work. Tony had a point, multiple ones but mainly, what if we screw everything up even worse than it already is.”

“We can’t focus on the negative side of this-”

“You won’t even consider the negative side. Optimism is nice but not blind optimism. If you expect me to even begin to trust this plan I need you to be realistic.”

His crystal blue eyes follow you as you stand and step away from the ledge. He follows, crossing his arms as he stands in front of you.

“Be real with me and yourself, right here, right now. How confident are you that this works?”

Instead of an instant reply, Steve takes a deep breath, his shoulders moving as he releases it. You don’t miss the way his fingers rapidly tap against his arm.

Finally he speaks,“ I can’t promise that things won’t change. I can’t promise that there won’t be risks. All I know is that we have to try, if we don’t we’re no better than every bad guy I’ve crossed.”

A moment of silence. You process his words, observe the honesty in them and even the slight bit of hesitation that displays in his eyes before he looks away.

“Look, Steve, you’re a good guy and you’re a hero through and through. I’m sure there’s no shortage of sacrifices you’d make to save the world, but,” running a hand through your hair, you take the smallest of steps forward,“ if there’s even the slightest chance that something happens to Natasha I’m out.”

He looks up at you, not expecting what’s been implied by you.

Yes, you’re willing to try. No, you didn’t expect to cave to quickly. You blame those steely blue eyes.

A breath of relief leaves him and he nods. With that established between you two, you leave the roof.

Inside the compound you go your separate ways, your destination being the lab.

Surprisingly, you don’t find Bruce there, which you’re partly grateful for. Being left with your thoughts now isn’t so bad, in fact it helps you work better.

Your current project is a new suit for Natasha.

It’s inspired by Tony’s suit. The nanotech sits in the Black Widow symbol of her belt and is activated with a simple touch. You made sure to keep it as form fitting as possible so it doesn’t hinder her speed or agility.

Instead of repulsor beams like Tony’s suit, it shoots electricity, mimicking the voltage of her widow’s bites. You maintained the same durability, adaptability, and power that Tony’s suit has. Not being as clever as Tony the A.I. you created was simply named Assist and doesn’t stand for anything.

Lastly ensuring that it’s fitted with Natasha’s go to weapons: a staff/batons and the standard pistols.

You’re in the lab well into the early hours of the next morning and the lack of your presence isn’t unnoticed by Natasha.

Despite having been in deep conversation with Bruce and Scott about the upcoming time travel test, she went to search for you.

She hadn’t realized how much she actually missed your presence until she started looking for you. When she finally gets to your lab there are tears in her eyes.

Her sniffle grabs your attention. You’re instantly on alert, completely disregarding your work to focus all your attention on your girl.

“What’s wrong love?” You reach for her hands, slowly just in case physical comfort isn’t what she wants.

Instead she steps into your body, wrapping her arms around you and pressing her face against your chest.

“I miss you.”

You just barely catch her words but your heart tugs at the sad tone of her voice.

“I didn’t mean to be away from you so long Tash, I’m sorry.” Stroking her hair, you glance at the clock that reads three eleven.“ How about we get to bed yeah?”

She nods against you,“ can we get ice cream first?”

With a chuckle you agree to it.

A couple hours later, after ice cream and a much needed sleep, you regroup in the empty hangar of the compound.

You clutch a cup of coffee in your hands, standing behind Natasha and away from the equipment. The sun pours light through the floor to ceiling windows, agitating your groggy state, as the coffee has not taken full effect yet.

Your forehead rests on your wife’s shoulder as she taps away on the tablet in her hands, simultaneously speaking with Scott and Bruce about the plan.

Eventually they’re ready, running a check of all operations. For some reason you feel like they’re missing something but your brain isn’t functioning at full speed just yet.

Who’s idea was it to do this at seven in the morning?

“Okay, here we go.” Bruce speaks up, causing you to stand up straight and sip your coffee.“ Time travel test number one. Scott, fire up the uhhh, the van thing.”

Taking a quick second to gather yourself, you roll your shoulders, and move to stand beside Natasha just before Steve comes back in, letting you all know that he’s set the breakers and back up generators.

“Good. 'Cause if we blow the grid, I don't wanna lose Tiny here in the 1950's.”

A laugh falls from you before you can stop it but you instantly shut up as Natasha levels you with a look. Then she, Steve, and Scott look at Bruce concerned.

“Excuse me?” Scott ceases to adjust his suit.

Natasha shakes her head,“ he's kidding. You can't say things like that!” She tries to give a reassuring smile to Scott.

“Jus- it was a bad joke.” Bruce fumbles, obviously having meant it.

“You were kidding, right?” Natasha asks after Scott turns away.

“I have no idea. We're talking about time travel here. Either it's all a joke, or none of it is.” The green man whispers before looking to Clint,“ we're good! Get your helmet on, Scott. I'm gonna send you back a week, let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in 10 seconds. Makes sense?”

Safe to say Scott is confused by that, but a little bit of encouragement from Steve has him ready to go.

With wide eyes, you watch the failure of a time travel test. Scott went in, only to come back as a child, an old man, and then a baby. Natasha and Steve look on in shock, before panicking and telling Bruce to bring adult Scott back.

“Y/N when I say so, kill the power.”

Nodding, you head over to the lever. Bruce presses some buttons then shouts now. You flip it and normal Scott reappears.

“Time travel!” Bruce exclaims, arms wide.

Everyone looks at him.

Shaking your head, you start to walk away,“ I need more coffee.”

Natasha starts to follow after you as Steve leaves to get air.

Once the two of you are in the kitchen and you’ve refilled your coffee, you turn to Natasha.

Her emerald eyes look incredibly tired and she’s slouching. You’d thought this new found plan would ease her stress but she seems to be fairing exactly as she had in the past weeks.

You set your cup down, walking closer to her, and sliding your hands over her hips.

“I feel stupid for asking but, how are you?”

She leans into you,“ I don’t want to think what’ll happen if this doesn’t work.”

You nod, pressing a kiss to the top of her head,“ then don’t. There’s no reason to give up hope just yet.”

It’s quiet for mere seconds, and then-

“Well aren’t you two the perfect picture of love.”

Tony’s voice never ceases to make you roll your eyes. If you didn’t already like him you’re sure you’d have punched his cheeky ass a long time ago.

“Of course we are.” You look over at him,“ what’re you doing here?’

“Just sticking around so I can take all the credit when we save the universe.” He smirks.

Natasha perks up at that, suspecting that the genius has figured it out. His seemingly permanent knowing and cocky smirk tells you that he did.

******

Taglist: @thelastavenger-3000 @aaron-despair @messuhp@izalesbean @bvb-bk @username23345 @sighsam@confusinggemini612 @natasha-danvers @rileigh519@higherfurther-romanova @dynnealberto

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel x reader #marvel #mcu x reader #mcu

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dresupi · 4 years

Text

Tarragon - Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers

for @darcygirl 713 words Rated T Tarragon - I still love you after all these years

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When things stopped spinning, Darcy’s head didn’t get the memo, because everything felt jostled around in there while she was stumbling through the grass attempting to get her bearings.

Everything looked the same. The Avenger’s lab looked a little worse for the wear, but maybe she just hadn’t noticed how the lawn needed a trim before she left.

The birds... they were so quiet now.

She hadn’t really noticed how many song birds liked to chirp out here, not until they were gone.

Darcy reached for the zipper on her timey-wimey jumpsuit, as she liked to call it. An interdimensional zoot suit, if you will. Okay, it was just coveralls with the Avengers labs symbol on them.

She was sweating in them and needed them off. She had a date later with Steve and she didn’t want to look like she’d run a bajillion miles before she got there.

“Darcy?” A very surprised voice sounded from behind her. Familiar too. Darcy would know her BFF’s voice anywhere. But the real question was, why was Nat here and not trying to remain invisible? Wasn’t this the last place she wanted to be?

“Nat?” she turned, tugging the zipper. “Can you help me with this thing?”

“Darcy? Is that really you?”

Natasha stepped forward, her hair looking very much not blonde like it had been when Darcy had seen it last. It wasn’t short either. The red was growing out. She badly needed her roots done, but the un-dyed roots were most of her hair at that point, so maybe just a cut would fix it.

“Yes, it’s me, and if you value my life, you’ll help me out of this thing.”

Natasha jolted forward, wrapping her up in her arms and squeezing tightly.

“Whoa... whoa dude, come on...”

“Where did you go?” Natasha asked softly.

“Where did I go? I astral-projected for a week.”

“A week?” Nat asked, leaning back.

“Yeah. That was the experiment. A week.”

“You haven’t been gone for a week, Darce. It’s been five years.”

Darcy stumbled back, her zipper finally coming free. “Wait... five years? Are you shitting me right now? Please tell me this is some kind of a joke.”

Natasha shook her head. “No. It’s been five years since Thanos turned half the population into dust, and we just assumed he’d done it to you too.”

“No? Not that I remember?” Darcy said softly, shrugging out of her jump suit and reaching down to smooth her shirt. “Wait. If it’s been five years, does that mean I missed my date with Steve?”

“Steve!” Natasha gasped, turning and running across the field towards the facility. She was yelling for Steve the entire time.

Darcy left her jumpsuit on the ground and took off after her. Albeit, at a much slower rate because she wasn’t nearly as trained on her mile as Natasha was.

By the time she reached the doors, Nat was busting back through them, someone else hot on her heels.

Darcy didn’t recognize him at first. He had a beard, for one thing.

His hair was long.

“Darcy?” he whispered, skidding to a halt and looking at her like she was a ghost.

“Steve?” Her voice was so quiet, but he heard her, barreling forward and wrapping her up in his arms.

“I never gave up, Darce...” he murmured. “I never stopped trying to find you.”

Darcy choked out a sob because for her, it had been thirty seconds, but for him, it had been five years. She wasn’t sure how it happened that way. Other than Jane always set up a failsafe to reopen the portal five years later if something happened to her while Darcy was projecting. That must have been what happened.

Jane and Erik got dusted while she was projecting and Darcy floated around in nether space until she could return to Earth again.

She hugged Steve tighter, and he just about crushed her against him. It didn’t matter how long it had or hadn’t been, she really could use a kiss. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. He faltered, cupping her face before delving his tongue into her mouth.

Natasha chuckled slightly. “I’ll leave you two alone for now, but I want a full report when you’re finished.”

#Shieldshock #Darcy x Steve #Steve x Darcy #Darcy Lewis #Steve Rogers #Darcy/Steve #Steve/Darcy #Flower Language Prompts #orange #my writing #darcygirl

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loruleanheart · 3 years

Text

Desired Fate, Chapter 2

Read on ff.net

Read on AO3

Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, moved about her bedchambers. It was a vast room with grey stonework walls and old furniture that had been in the royal family for generations. One corner held a grand writing desk where she often carried out her research into ancient relics late into the night. Affixed to the wall above were her most treasured research notes.

The princess was dressed for bed, her thick golden hair in a protective side braid, but she wasn’t feeling too tired, her nerves shot by the day’s earlier events. It was the first moment of rest she’d had all day. She had been constantly in the presence of Impa and the knight her father had assigned as her guard. The knight, who she’d learned was named Link, was odd. He barely spoke a word, yet Zelda couldn't disregard that he had saved her that day when a large Guardian that had been unearthed at the Breach of Demise had activated somehow without warning. This, along with the increasing number of monsters throughout the kingdom made their trip to the Royal Tech Lab an arduous one.

Zelda turned over many thoughts in her mind. How the little Guardian that seemed so attached to her had traveled from a Hyrule of ruin. Her father had seemed so vexed by the Guardian’s appearance, although Zelda was not surprised that he would try to discern whether the Guardian could be trusted. The little one did feel somehow familiar in a vague way…. Not to mention, it brought with it a look into the future of the destruction the Calamity would bring.

A heaviness was descending upon the princess. Impa’s sister, Purah had managed to extract visual data from the little Guardian’s memory - true to life images that showed what the future would hold. Zelda had taken a cursory look through a few images but had quickly become overwhelmed. This was the destruction that would befall Hyrule should she not be able to harness her divine power. But, perhaps the pictures might also hold clues on how the Calamity could be averted.

She powered on the Sheikah Slate, wanting to give the visual data a more thorough analysis before turning in for the night. She scrolled through the horrific images of destruction, this time not having others around whom she had to put on a brave, composed face for. As much as she loathed wallowing in self-pity, she had at least managed not to break down earlier in front of the others. The princess had sensed the understanding of her plight in Impa’s voice earlier as they looked through the images together.

Not only was Hyrule Castle pictured, but the destruction seemed to be widespread. Akkala Citadel... Fort Hateno…. The Divine Beasts…. All in ruin or corrupted somehow, and the fate of the entire kingdom and its people were bearing down on her.

I will not allow this to come to pass… I’ll do everything I can to stop this… But without the power, how will it ever be enough?

Despair and dread were starting to set in as it often did more and more over the years. She’d already tried everything she could up until now, and still, the power that should have come so naturally seemed to be impossible to find within herself. And the longer her power remained dormant, the more frustrated and cold her father grew. Zelda shut her eyes, holding her hand over her face, trying to calm herself, but it was too late as the tears she’d been holding back for hours broke forth. She quietly sobbed, hoping to not alert the attention of any of her attendants who might hear her cries. She scrolled to the next image and then there was not a location or a Divine Beast, but a picture of a strange man and she went silent. Her green eyes moved over the image. There on the Sheikah Slate was a hooded man in a tattered purple robe, but she could tell he was very handsome, even if not by typical Hylian standards. She couldn’t help but stop and stare. He was very pale and had dark, collarbone length hair. There was a long braid that hung in front of his left eye and was tucked behind his ear, and another that was decorated with gold beads.

He wore a gold circlet and a thick gold collar that draped over his shoulders that reminded her of jewelry worn by Gerudo royalty, although this man clearly wasn’t Gerudo. No male had been born to that tribe in ages. There was an oddity about the circlet though, in that the red stone had what appeared to be a stylized yellow iris painted on it - sort of symbolizing a third eye.

Who was this mysterious man? He must have been on the slate for a reason. The slate’s screen went black, and she realized she’d zoned out. Her mind was flooded with so many questions and speculations. Could someone like him really be out there, somewhere? He looked more like he belonged in some distant past foreign to her. Were they destined to meet? Should she seek him out? She didn’t know, nor did she know how to raise the subject to anyone else. Her father, dear sweet Hylia, her father…. Would almost certainly chastise for wasting her time with images discovered on Sheikah technology which had been banned up until the recent past instead of dedicating every waking moment in prayer to unlock her dormant power. But to Zelda, this felt as crucial as researching relics, perhaps even more so. And then it occurred to Zelda who she could confide in - Urbosa. Based on the jewelry the man wore, maybe she might know something.

And just like that, the heaviness that had pushed her to the edges of despair had lifted, even if only a little bit. Zelda laid the slate on her nightstand before climbing into her stately canopy bed. She found she was able to drift off with relative ease, all things considered. Tomorrow, she was sure, would be another demanding day, and she was eager for the respite sleep would bring.

In her dream that night was a woman in a resplendent white dress, and Zelda sensed she was connected with her. Was this Hylia, the goddess whose blood was said to run through her veins? The goddess smiled to herself in a dreamy way, absorbed in her song as her fingers moved along the strings of a small harp. The goddesses appeared to be singing as her lips moved silently, Zelda not being able to hear her words. Perhaps it was a lullaby. Zelda wished she could hear the goddess’s song. The goddess seemed so passionate about…. something, but all she could do was watch and hope this dream to be a harbinger of good things to come.

oOo

His harbinger turned and left, having imparted to his disciple how it had come to be and how it planned to counter what its “twin” from a ruined Hyrule had set out to do. It was fate that Ganon’s hatred had followed that Guardian through time to possess the one from this era.

And now, Calamity Ganon’s will can be fulfilled in this time as well… The Prophet of Doom thought. This was all a part of Lord Ganon’s plan to annihilate his enemies completely, leaving no room for victory, even in a separate path in time.

That Guardian by the princess’s side had the means to set this path on a different course, and the prophet knew he couldn’t let some meddlesome piece of junk alter fate’s rightful course. He would subdue the princess and her newfound ally. The thought of destroying the Guardian had already crossed his mind, even before Lord Ganon’s new directive. Now he just had to make those two degenerate, banana-eating goons do his and Lord Ganon’s bidding.

The prophet was elated that he could now receive such clear directives and revelations from Lord Ganon. Had he not met with the harbinger, he would truly be on his own. The harbinger was proof to potential allies that he had indeed been chosen and could know the will of Calamity Ganon, not just interpret it through the constellations or prophetic dreams. Gaining the trust of the Yiga Clan didn’t feel like much, but things were coming together. The Calamity would return and reign down its hatred on Hyrule, and the kingdom would come to its end, at long last.

oOo

“I have selected the candidates for the Divine Beasts. Zora grace, Princess Mipha; Goron vigilance, Daruk; Rito confidence, Revali; and Gerudo spirit, Chief Urbosa. You will go meet with each and explain their role to pilot their respective Divine Beast.” King Rhoam’s voice carried through the main foyer from his place on the balcony.

Zelda looked up at her father and responded. “Yes, I suspected as much… I will meet with Chief Urbosa first. I am... looking forward to seeing her again.”

Rhoam nodded. “Understood. It has been some time since your last meeting with her.” The king’s voice held a respectful tone, perhaps thinking of his late queen who had been close friends with the Gerudo chief. His gaze moved to the little Guardian, and his voice became cold. Zelda stiffened as the words left his mouth. “And? You’re taking this relic with you, I presume?” Rhoam narrowed his eyes at the small Guardian that was currently hiding behind his daughter.

Zelda could sense an admonishment incoming, yet she managed an explanation. “Yes. After talking to Purah and Robbie, we thought it would be best.”

Rhoam took a seat on his throne, considering this. The Guardian moved out from behind her as if emboldened by her voice. “I will remind you once again. Above all else, your duty is of the utmost importance. Are we clear?” Rhoam said, sternly.

For the briefest moment, Zelda thought of the hooded man she’d seen on the Sheikah Slate. “Yes, we are clear. I understand... And I will honor my duty.”

It wasn’t a lie, per se…. Zelda thought. After all I’ve been through, who can say what honoring my duty looks like. Prayer hasn’t worked. I’ve spent over a decade dedicating myself to prayer. If I could just focus my attention elsewhere, perhaps the power will find me in a way nobody could foresee.

Zelda, Link, and Impa departed the castle with the new Guardian in tow. The Princess breathed a soft sigh of frustration as she felt her father’s eyes boring into her, which didn’t go unnoticed by Impa and Link. And in time, the three were laughing and bonding over the little Guardian that acted as if it were a knight in the princess’s service.

#Age of Calamity #Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity #Astor #fanfiction #Mostly Zelda centric chapter here #Zelast

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

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Motion Sickness Chapter 58

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I didn't find anything on myself or my sisters on Merlot's computers. I was guessing that that laboratory predated me and them. Besides, if the mustached man was right, I was doomed to never find anything on my sisters in Merlot's labs. I was only digging through his computers for myself, then. And I really just didn't have the energy for it and I transferred the notes to my scroll for later bookkeeping and examination.

Peach, Neo, and I descended back into Nibelheim and I took a train from there back to Atlas. I said my farewells to Peach and her teacher. I wasn't sure I'd ever see the pink eyed, blonde bruiser again, but you never really know. She'd done good work by me. I left her with a dust crystal to remember me by for that.

I had to find out who the mustached man was. I consulted Aurum but with only a vague description he didn't have much of any support for me. He was helpful, I suppose, as helpful as he could be given how lackluster my ability to give details on the man was. I mean I knew he had a dark blue suit trimmed in yellow but that was only so helpful. The green eyes and mustache were, I was guessing, more solid but only slightly.

Aurum then put me in contact with the group who had been in the know on the General's secret project. There was a bar down in Mantle where they met and I was told to go there. This group, this Avalanche, had details that I needed if I wanted to stay on top of things.

They called the bar Seventh Heaven.

The bar looked like a rickety enough place. It sort of reminded me of the Malachites' bar. Except the Malachites' bar was nicer. If such a thing could be believed.

I swept into the place with Neo beside me and I had a quick look around. There was a bar area with some seats and a few tables. There was also a pac-ping machine in one of the corners that didn't interest me much at all. The place was all brown wood and grey brick. It was covered in soot from the mines and the whole place could use a thorough cleaning. I was wary of even ordering anything from their bar.

A redheaded faunus cleaned a glass with a rag behind the counter. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and she had pretty brown eyes. She had Valean features with a bit of an oval face and a long fox tail which swished behind her as she worked.

She wore armor over a tight blue shirt that exposed her smooth flat stomach and her bellybutton. She had a red scarf over her forehead and loose brown pants around her hips leading down to silvery shin guards and boots. They looked heavy.

I could feel the distant hum of aura wafting off of her. She wasn't some simple barkeep. She must be a member of Avalanche. And Avalanche must be a hunter organization or at least attempting to be one.

Neo shuffled up beside me and looked up at me. "Well Neo, what will you have?"

She shrugged as though to say, 'surprise me.'

"Hey now! What can I do for the two of you?" The bartender asked, she sounded upbeat.

"I'm Cloud, this is Neo, we're looking for Avalanche and a drink, I suppose. Two house specials. Whatever that is, while we wait would be nice."

She nodded. "I'm Jasper. We're just waiting for a few more. So that'll be two Cosmo Canyons. Coming right up." She sounded enthusiastic.

She poured two red drinks for Neo and I. I sat at one of the tables and Neo pulled up a chair beside me. Jasper came by and dropped the drinks off for us. I thanked her and opened up a tab. I could afford plenty of drinks so I really wasn't worried about it.

The drink had a sweet, deep strawberry and raspberry flavor. It was bordering on too sugary for me but Neo seemed to like it because she slammed it and held up a finger for another one.

I ordered for her and Jasper came around again with another glass of the red liquid.

There came a jingle at the door and another faunus came in. She was armed with a crossbow staff and had two cute little sheep ears to either side of her head. She wore mostly green under a more tan-green overcoat. She had curly glowing white hair and bright sharp green eyes.

She took us and Jasper by the counter in for a moment before she paced further inside.

I leaned both elbows on the table and rested my chin on my hands. I waited around to see what would happen with the newcomer.

"I'm looking for Avalanche," she said to Jasper. Loud enough that I could hear it.

"You've found us. You must be Fiona with the Happy Huntresses."

Fiona nodded.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Jasper asked.

Fiona shook her head. "I'm just here to listen to what you have to say about the General's secret project. We know the general is moving supplies out to Amity instead of Mantle. We're just not sure why. You're supposed to know."

Two more gentlemen entered and I watched them while taking a drink from my cosmo canyon. The first was taller than the other. Maybe about as tall as I was and had a sidearm. It looked like a water pistol to me. He wore a green shirt and brown pants and had a red bandanna tied around his head. It didn't hide his wolf ears.

The last was the rounder sort and he had a pale shirt and he too had a red bandanna. He was built with wide shoulders, however, despite his round build. He had a machine gun around his back and a bandolier of rounds across his chest. I couldn't spot his faunus trait if he had one but that didn't make him human. Blake had managed to hide her trait from me for months so there was that.

"Meet Avalanche," Jasper introduced with a bit of flair, waving a hand.

The taller fellow said, "I'm Bisque. And this is Wenge." He gestured to the man by his side.

"We need your help to hold the SDC accountable for its crimes," Jasper went on. "Avalanche is a sort of network for disparaged workers. Like the old White Fang in Mantle. We've been getting reports from workers about the General's project."

"You want us to help you fight the SDC," Fiona sounded incredulous. Her face twisted into shock.

"In exchange for our information, yes," Bisque shot back. "We've been getting all kinds of reports from our union about the project so we know what we're talking about with it."

"The Happy Huntresses aren't above trading blows with the law but this seems like a bit much. What would we even be doing?"

"Blowing up a dust mine." Jasper put a hand on one hip. "Both the Happy Huntresses and… you two, Cloud and Neapolitan." She pointed at Neo and I. "Came highly recommended. From different people, of course."

I could see it. Aurum had all the reason to recommend me considering how quickly I'd solved his problems. Unfortunately I wasn't behind blowing up a mine very much.

"If you want to resort to terrorism why not join the White Fang?" I asked. That was the sort of business the White Fang was into.

"Lots of reasons," Jasper shrugged. "The White Fang are about murder now. The mine we're targeting will be mostly abandoned. At least with the embargo going on."

"And this is the only way you'll talk about the General's secret project?" I asked. "A symbolic attack?"

"We also have Lien we can offer you," Bisque cut in.

Fiona snorted and I shook my head. "I don't need Lien," I muttered.

"The Happy Huntresses aren't about money. It's not why we do what we do," Fiona agreed with me a little.

"But you're about fighting the giants. The SDC. The Atlas Military," Wenge seemed to protest. His voice had a slight whine to it. "We could really use all the help we can get."

"The Happy Huntresses will find another way to learn about the General's plans," Fiona decided. She turned to leave. "I can only hope you are smart enough to say the same." She nodded at me.

"I probably can't let this opportunity pass me by. Thanks," I told her.

"You'll engage in this terrorism?" Her jaw dropped open.

"Sweetheart, I've murdered people in cold, cold blood. This is nothing. They're not even planning on killing anyone." I laughed. I pulled out my pipe and packed some greens into it. "Easy money," I said.

She glowered at me with a look that could have frozen vodka and turned her chin up. "You're laughing about it? People could die and you're just laughing." She swore at me.

I laughed even harder. "I'm a monster, babe. There are all kinds of people like me. You should get used to it. I thought you were a huntress."

"I graduated from Atlas Academy. Of course I'm a huntress." She pulled her staff on me. I stood up and activated my semblance. I ripped the weapon out of her hand and she stumbled towards me. I grabbed her and tossed her into the table behind me and Neo elegantly moved out of the way. She stumbled to her feet and I tossed her weapon to myself.

"There are things they don't teach you at school, kido. I can give you a lesson in it if you want."

She was just a kid. She had no idea what things were really like. She didn't know about monsters like Tyrian or Raven or me . I was a monster of power and ungodly strength, too. She didn't know the heights that some hunters could reach. She thought she was on the level. I could feel from my sixth sense that just wasn't the case. I could pull her apart.

The vitriol on her face was enough to shatter that frozen vodka from before. She tore her way back to her feet. The blatant disgust made me want to laugh some more. I tossed her her weapon back. She pointed her crossbow at me. It was loaded. I could cut the bolt easily. I was fast enough. Unless it moved near light speed like a laser or a magnetic accelerated round.

"I should stop you. The right thing to do would be to shut you down right here and now. Aggravating the SDC is the wrong move, almost always."

"Careful, little Miss. You're not a match for me and I've left quite the trail of bodies behind." Blue flames licked at my flesh. White wisps crawled at the ceiling of the bar, and the members of Avalanche held their collective breaths. The wood beams over my head shed my power like rainwater and it collapsed back into the room. "What's one more for someone like me?" I asked. “Come on. What’s one more?”

She spun her weapon about and replaced it on her back. She exhaled hard. She gave me one last stiff look. I could feel the room slightly disrupted by her aura. Her anger was a lashing flame. She wanted to stop me but was thinking better of it.

We'd sized each other up and I knew that she knew that I could destroy her. It was common knowledge now. Her sixth sense must have screamed out at her in warning.

"This isn't over." She pointed at the floor for emphasis with each word.

"This is nothing." I returned, sheathing my sword. "Not even my top fifty."

She marched out of the door of the bar. She slammed it shut behind her hard enough to rattle the windows of the small, dingy bar.

"Cloud…" Jasper murmured. "You'll help us?"

"I need the details. I also need a guarantee of my information. Then I'll help you with your bombing."

"It's the abandoned Tilvari mine. It's to the north of here. Used to be mined by SDC when it was more profitable to be mining. They'll want to go back to doing it there once the embargo is lifted," Bisque said. "We'll be hitting it at night when no one is around."

"We want to shut that down. Make it harder for old man Schnee," Jasper continued for him. "People die in his mines all the time and nothing happens. Nothing changes. People are dying in the mines right now. We want to cause him all the problems we can."

"I don't care about your reasons. Tell me about the job."

They all shared a look.

"You don't really mean that, do you Cloud?" Wenge asked. He seemed nervous, a little on edge about it.

"Of course I do. It's a job to me. And nothing else. I'll get you all in and out safe and sound. Then you can tell me about the General's project and we can move on with our lives." I claimed. "You don't want to be my friends. It's not a good place to be."

I didn't have the time for this. They needed to know where I stood. I wasn't their friend. I was their employee. That's how this was going to work. I didn't have time for it. They didn't need to be wrapped up in me, either. I was a mess and I didn't need to drag people who were more or less innocent into my fuck up of a life.

They were subcontracting me because I was dangerous and I knew what I was doing. I knew my way around explosives and I knew how to deal with dust, at least in a loose sense. I was exactly what they needed. As a contractor. Not as a companion for life. I already fucked up enough friendships. Just look at where I stood with team RWBY. The things I'd done to my own other friends rampaged through my thoughts.

A low hiss of ' kill her, and the boy ' echoed through my mind. I would never forget it. The lamp had been right. Mother was more than just a memory. She haunted me.

I remembered what I'd done to the last of team JNPR. These people didn't know what they'd be getting into if they wanted to be my friends. And Neo and I weren't exactly friends. We worked well together, our goals aligned, our powers were useful in combination, but that was it. At least I thought so. I'd certainly miss her if she was gone, though. Maybe she was working her way into my heart.

The sadistic bitch. Unbelievably cruel of her, that was.

I relaxed and let my power go. My semblance faded into nothing. I missed the power as soon as it was gone. The steady beat of energy made me feel whole. Without it I felt a gaping lack. I wanted to keep that flow going. I wanted it all the time. And the charge felt completely empty now. I felt completely at a loss.

They all looked at one another again. Jasper nodded to Bisque and that seemed to do it for them.

"We have wheels to make our get-away on. And we want to drop the mine, not cause a massive explosion. Not in the middle of town. The point is to just cause a collapse in. It's a pit mine, you see." Bisque said.

"You'll need to be careful. Any application of dust could cause a chain reaction and blow up the entire mine. Take part of the city with it." I warned. I crossed one arm and put a hand on my chin as I considered it.

"The explosives we have in mind are small. Just big enough to bring down some of the support beams and cause a collapse." Jasper informed me.

Neo held up a hand.

"Another drink for my friend here?" I asked. Her glass was empty and she waved it at me loosley, tapping me in the side with it, gripping the glass from above.

Jasper nodded. She moved around behind the counter and shook up another glass of the crimson liquid. Neo liked that house special, I guess. She had a sweet tooth and a half which explained it.

"Then what's your extraction plan?" I asked once Jasper got Neo squared away again.

"We have a truck, we were going to drive away in the chaos," Wenge said. "Do you think that will be enough?"

"With my help, sure. I've got quite the illusionist with me. You don't want to be caught up by Atlas Security. And the last thing we want to be snatched up in is a firefight."

"We can take them," Jasper said. She had enthusiasm for it, that was for sure. I imagined that Blake was once like that. But instead for the White Fang and not Avalanche.

Jasper was young. Maybe a year or so younger than my biological age, not my chronological age. She was much older than me going by that marker. She had a fire to her I couldn't help but admire. I even found it a few shades shy of attractive.

"You don't have the experience for it. You'll lose." I disagreed. "Better leave any fighting to Neo and I, if you can help it. Only fight if you're cornered and need to. Any of you ever kill somebody?"

They looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Yeah, leave it to me and Neo." I sighed. These kids had no idea what they were in for. If they weren't careful, they'd die. "And I'll set the charges. Better leave that to me too." I chewed on my pipe.

Amateurs.

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-WG

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