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trashmouth-richie · 13 days

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱: 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: eddie stays until clove’s shift is over at the club despite her best efforts to get him to leave. jolene expresses her concerns, an old acquaintance reintroduces himself with eddie. a piece of the past is revealed.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ stripping, drug use/abuse, alcoholism, addiction, abusive relationships, prostitution.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ no minors, depictions of poverty, child neglect/ endangerment, drug use/abuse, alcohol use/abuse, endangerment, 18+ sex working, 18+stripping, violence, smut.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 6.8k and a rewrite 🫣; we are finally getting somewhere in this story and i am sorry it took so long to pass these awkward tense filled chapters! 😓 im really happy with the way this chapter turned out and i hope you enjoy it too.

A smile twists on your lips, and you can’t hide the funny tingling shift of your eyebrows as you test the numbness in your face. You felt as if the world was spinning with colors of orangey yellows and blushing pink.

“Slick…come. on.”

The sky moved above you in gentle waves, pulsing and vibrating. The tangle of tall grass around you felt like shaved butter beneath the pads of your fingers. A giggle bursts from your lips and you stretch your arms out, feeling the creamy splats of the chickweed on your elbows. You imagined that you were a piece of toast, becoming soft by a pat of butter and a smear of jelly.

Would you be flavored as Grape? Choke Cherry? Definitely Mulberry, you’d decided after moving your tongue against the dry membrane of your cheeks… willing for a drop of saliva to coat it, tasting the jam on it with every swirl.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!”

You look up, a drunken haze on your stoned eyes. Lids felt heavier with every blink upward towards the tendrils of caramel swaying above. A concerned look is painted on Eddie’s face and you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

Sweat formed beneath his bangs, his temples dripping wet. He wanted to shout and scream as your finger reached up to poke him on the nose, a raspberried boop bubbles from your lips and a fit of laughter follows.

He was pissed when he finally found you at the party. Even more upset that the sweet freshman, Barbara, had distracted him by asking about the Chemistry test, trying to compare answers to see if she had gotten the questions right.

In that amount of time you had disappeared in the crowd of sweaty bodies, nowhere to be seen. He settled into an immediate panic. Crippling anxiety crawling up his spine.

This party was a bad idea, he should have never taken you here, but your puppy dog eyes never failed to make him cave. You were always good at that.

The rickety farmhouse now used for high school kids to drink beer and smoke weed was abandoned long ago. Paint had chipped from the wooden slat siding, the wallpaper was ripped to shreds in every room, graffitied over. Rumor had it, the class of ‘79 threw orgies in the basement.

He searched every face around the flames of the bonfire for you, called your name into the lonesome woods— but you were nowhere, and when he asked people if they had seen you, nobody knew who you were. He was scared, terrified— after what happened the last time you went missing at a party— he swore it wouldn’t happen again. His eye was still discolored from that fight.

An hour had ticked by then an hour and a half, and he felt full fledged crazy when he started searching in parked cars.

The sweet smell of weed hit him as he walked past a pickup he hadn’t recognized. The tailgate was laid down with a blanket laying across it in a rumpled mess. And he almost missed it.

Almost turned to leave when he spotted a hand, laying limp from beneath the flannel threads— and his stomach fell at the sight of a homemade tattoo sketched in the same spot as his, opposite hands.

He planned on leaving. Not wanting to see the way your life had trainwrecked out of control and off the rails. But his heart ached for the girl he knew, the one he once left behind.

Eddie planted himself on that barstool like he was a permanent fixture. Keeping quietly to himself. Politely telling the bartender he was fine with the water and cold basket of wings that sat untouched.

His stomach was uneasy, sick with worry about the truth he spilled and your reaction to it all, acting as if it had never happened—turning something serious into a party. Maybe that was easiest for you? Turning a blind eye to the truth.

Tonight, Eddie would stay for you, ensuring you got home safely. Something he should have done years ago but couldn’t.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

You were floating on a warm and buzzing kind of high, drunk on the cheap liquor and pills you consumed tossing them back like a child would candy.

Reckless was an understatement for the mask you wore tonight. The armor shield you bared to protect yourself from getting hurt was heavy, but you never let it slip from your shoulders.

Overly friendly, flirting with the regulars, the out of towners. Anyone with a swinging dick was game. The college guys who you would normally rather drop dead than spend any amount of time talking to— suddenly were the most interesting males you’d ever laid eyes on.

You laughed at their stupid jokes, pinched their cheeks and kissed their necks as you ground your hips into their laps. Their grabby hands roamed over your body freely and you never swatted them away.

You accepted singles in your g-string like a eucharist in a catholic church. Their warm breath on your neck and shoulders held whimpers and groans as you moved above their laps to the music, or ran your tongue along their ear.

Giving away bits of yourself you didn’t care about, a lazy smile on your lips as your eyes closed and your head swayed along with your hips to the sultry music that played for Wendy’s set.

They all wore the same face, their voices were different but their soulless expressions spoke to the tiny crumb you kept hidden away that you still carried around, singing to you like a prayer of hope.

The only thing you couldn’t do was look any of them straight in the eyes. It didn’t matter who they were, their eyes were always the same: doe like, a stain of muddy brown and surrounded with dark lashes. Eddie.

The conversation you had with him burned like a fiery wind in your chest, and you did the usual to extinguish the flames. But the sad bourbon eyes parked at the bar ignited it every time you caught them in a stare over a suit jacket shoulder, making you turn away with something stronger than guilt.

Tipping back shots of god knows what, you fell deeper and deeper into the pit of numbness, until you fully succumbed to it, shutting out everything around you, disassociating to another time.

Watching the swing of a chain bounce from left to right, your fingertips felt like lead as they dangled. Grass was on the ceiling being stamped down to the soil beneath large footsteps. A pair of black legs moved as you swung like a wind chime in a summer breeze. The skinny legged creature holding you was murmuring under its breath. It took you much too long to realize you were being carried and the thing holding you was Eddie.

Your face was level with his lower back, the black shirt he was wearing rode up enough to leave a sliver of navy checkered boxers hanging out. The pattern looked funny, like tic-tac-toe. The words forming on the tip of your tongues mind, tickling the muscle as you make up rhymes.

“linch-lactose, ditz-duck-toast, yic-yac- yo, pinch-punch post!”

Your fingers squeeze the band of his boxers and pull it way out, revealing the whitest ass you’d ever seen and you gasp in surprise as if your incoherent mind forgot what would be clothed beneath, letting the fabric snap back into place. Warranting an irritated yelp from Eddie that has you tipping upwards and upwards until you are falling downwards and downwards behind him.

Now you were wading on your back in a soft batter of cake, and Eddie swore under his breath.

“Up, get up.”

You shake your head at him, moving your fingers to try to make his frown tick up. “I’m having fun, you should try it sometime.”

He huffs in annoyance, “fun? You call running away from me at a party with some West Academy fuckheads fun?”

You blow a raspberry with your lips, tossing your body over to your front then your back again and again until you’ve rolled a few feet away from him further into the deep grass.

“Seriously?” Eddie groans in frustration following you crossing his arms once he faded into your peripherals, “quit acting like a little kid!”

Eddie never got mad at you. At his dad, the way you grew up, school… but not you.

You frown back at him, eyebrows curling inward, “what’s up your ass Munson?”

His eyes cloud with something you can’t recognize, not in your current state of mind at least.

“Nothing, let’s—can we go? I’m fucking exhausted, and you’re pissing me off.”

“Oh…” you sing, leaning up on your elbows, scowling, “I get it now, you can get high with Byers’ whenever you feel like it, but when I do it without you— it’s suddenly a problem.”

He doesn’t say a word, only sighing deep and running his hands through his hair til they snag on his neck, bangs shoved aside.

“You’re a real bastard y'know? A hypocritical, fuckass!”

“Me?!” he shouts, flabbergasted, “It’s been what? Three weeks since I punched Hagan until his mouth bled for what he tried to do to you… and now you’re just going around putting yourself in the same situation Clove! It’s stupid, you are being stupid! You’re just asking for something bad to happen, like you’re looking for it!”

It wasn’t easy to forget that night, the tears that slid down your face, the taste of blood and gravel in your mouth, or the rip in your clothes from being pushed down.

You spent nights lying awake, wondering what could have happened if Eddie wouldn’t have shown up when he did. White knuckling your blankets, you stayed that way until the sun shone through the ripped tinfoil on your window. The only reprieve you could find was altering your mind for an hour or two.

Looking for that tiny bit of relief, you jumped when the opportunity to let loose came up, hungry for the numbness to settle, for your mind to ease.

After all— you were just having fun. What’s the worst that could happen?

Lights flashed in every neon color imaginable as the night drug on. He was torturing himself watching you become clumsier, spilling drinks, and nearly tripping over your own two feet.

The clink of the beads from the back room made his stomach turn as they moved like clockwork, girls went in every thirty minutes and out almost at the exact second it was up.

Shots of a bubbly pink liquid floated around in your hands as you brought them to a table of younger guys. Squealing as one of them pulled you into their lap, shoving his face into your chest as you giggled and swatted at him playfully.

Eddie wanted to puke. Wanted to throw his knuckles into that guy's stomach until he gasped for air. As much as he wanted to give in to his urges and bust the teeth out from that guy's mouth, he didn’t. Not wanting to embarrass you by being overly protective. He didn’t have that right anymore.

So he sat back and simply watched with a sinking heart, swirling the bottle of a now warm beer in his hand. Waiting.

Waiting for what— he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe you would sober up and he could take you to get some food at an all night diner? The two of you could laugh about old times, and you’d get to know one another again, in better circumstances.

He held onto that thought as his knee bounced watching you go from lap to lap at that table of college boys, a smile pressed to your lips that didn’t meet your eyes. Your pupils were so large he could see them from where he sat, inky blacks taking over where your natural color pooled.

“Hey there handsome, gin and tonic?”

Eddie swirled to face the bar at the bartender’s voice, thinking she was speaking to him. Her eyes didn’t fall to him, they were focused on a guy leaning his elbow across the counter, a gaudy red jacket flanking his shoulders.

Slitting his own eyes into narrow strips, he recognized him immediately. Still too many freckles pocking across his face. Hair cut short on the sides, slicked back with stiff gel. A cocky smirk on his face as he eyed Eddie, puffing out his chest like an alpha male. Tommy Hagan.

The heels of your palms press into your eyes, creating shapes behind your eyelids as the tears slid out rolling down the apples of your cheeks, your head laying softly against the ground.

Eddie nearly broke when your chin quivered, your lips shaking as your lungs raked in a choked breath. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, never wanted to be someone who made you cry.

He kneeled down next to you, reaching for your wrists to peel your hands from your eyes. You finally let him, but kept your eyes shut tight.

“C’mere,” he whispered, wrapping his arms under yours and hauling you up with him to stand.

Your tears wet his hands from where he held your face, wiping them as they fell. “Don’t shut me out,” he pleaded, worry spreading across his face, “you can tell me anything.”

Shaking your head you tried to pull yourself away from him. “It won’t go away, Eddie,” you sobbed.

You could hear his tantalizing words in your ear just like that night. Still feel his hands under your shirt, and when you pushed him away, running from him, Tommy had caught up to your drunken strides and shoved you onto the gravel, pinning you there.

“I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of being stared at… I wanted one damn night of not remembering, of feeling normal again!”

His arms squeeze around you like a vice, and you cry into the column of his throat, your tears coating the split ends of his hair.

Eddie murmurs your name as he runs his fingers down your back in a soothing pattern. Letting you cry it out. His heart shattering right along with yours.

He didn’t let go of you until your tears fell a little more silently, your sniffles scarce.

“I have a surprise for you.”

His dark eyes were wild. Wide in psychotic amusement at the scene in front of him. “Physics proves me wrong again,” Tommy sneered, “they really can stack shit six foot high.”

Eddie shifts away from him, searching the bar for you. But Tommy doesn’t let up.

Waltzing towards Eddie, Tommy’s stocky build and red jacket made him look like something from a cereal box. “Ah, man, cmon,” he chides, leaning an elbow beside Eddie’s arm, “‘m only playin’ round.”

“What do you want, Hagan?”

“Now Eddie… is that anyway to treat an old friend?”

He was trying to bait Eddie, get him to swing on him maybe, finish the fight that started years ago. But Eddie wouldn’t budge, ignoring him completely.

Tommy runs his tongue along his teeth, “I have to wonder just how Rick would react to finding out that The runaway Munson bastard was sitting in his club, staring at his girl.”

Eddie almost choked on the breath he took, but he managed to keep his face calm even though he was breaking apart on the inside.

“She didn’t tell you?” Tommy feigns surprise, “She’s been his whore since your old man started selling dope. Don’t worry though—Rick is pretty generous, he’ll let you fuck her in the private rooms for the right price.”

Eddie swallows thickly, holding back vomit.

Tommy leans in close, his cheap cologne stinging Eddie’s nose, “pricey, but trust me…that pussy is worth it.”

Eddie’s fingers curl into tight fists.

“Oh and before I forget, Rick will be happy to know you’re back in town. Your old man still had some business to take care of before he vanished like a fart in the windp, and Rick is looking to collect.”

He watched Tommy leave. Striding up to one of the girls and squeezing her ass before laying a sloppy kiss on her lips.

Dread filled his soul like a sandbag, weighing him down until he could barely move, hardly digesting what Tommy had said before Rocket Queen started blaring from the speakers.

The crowd whooped and hollered for the girl on the pole, catcalls and wolf whistles, meaty hands slapping the stage with singles.

The table you were sitting at now sat empty, and you weren’t anywhere around, the bartender screamed your name and he knew before he even looked that you were the one on stage.

“The treehouse?”

“The treehouse.”

What felt like a ten mile walk in your inebriation was barely even one as you followed behind Eddie. Your finger laced into one of his belt loops guiding you along with your eyes half open.

“When you mentioned having a sleepover, Slim— I thought it would be in one of our rooms, with blankets, a pillow maybe.”

It was a goldmine when you stumbled across it all those years ago. Deep in the woods behind Forest Hills, you couldn’t believe it was still standing.

He smiled and brushed hair from his neck, “ What’s wrong? Clovie wovie a wittle afraid of a dirt and some bird shit?”

You shove his shoulder and make a disgusted face, “mostly afraid of getting Hepatitis.”

“Relax,” he said, putting a foot on the first wooden rung, nailed to the tree trunk, “I was here last week and cleaned it out.”

He climbs the makeshift ladder with ease, all fluid motion like an ape at the zoo.

“There’s no way in hell I’m gonna be able to do this.”

Eddie gets to the stop and pokes his head down, “it’s not that high up.”

“Yeah but I am.”

Eddie rolls his dark eight ball eyes and lays on his stomach across the floor of the treehouse, partly dangling over the edge to reach for your hands. “Put your foot there, no— that one.”

It took longer than it should have but with great effort from Eddie and as much concentration as you could manage, you’d finally made it to the top, laying flat on your back huffing like you’d ran a marathon.

“Well, that was easy.”

Eddie glares at you with a sweaty brow, “yeah, you really aced it Slick.”

You raise a middle finger and he sends one back making you both laugh. “I’m gonna hire you to clean my house, it’s pretty nice up here.”

The floor was swept and a round rag rug laid in the center. A tarp covered the ceiling where rain always snuck through the roof.

“Yeah, yeah, figured this place shouldn’t go to waste just because we don’t use it anymore. Maybe Lolly could play up here with her friends.”

Eddie bends down to lift the lid to a large wooden box you don’t remember being there before. He hauls out a large sleeping bag, a folded quilt, and a flashlight.

Placing the flashlight under his chin to illuminate his face in creepy shadows, Eddie throws his voice into a creepy cackle, “know any good ghost stories?”

The room spun as you hung upside down from your ankles crossed against the pole. It was a blur, a blackening clouded storm piercing your barely conscious mind. Years of dancing on this stage, you could practically do it in your sleep.

When you seductively lowered your bra straps and revealed yourself, the men went crazy. Everybody loved the devil, and right now you could use a better disguise to mask the pain from Eddie’s spilled truths earlier.

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The more you tried to suffocate his name in your mind, soul, body, he remained. Always.

You hadn’t spoken to him since earlier when the bar was empty except for the two of you and seven year old secrets. His eyes burned into your skin whenever you saw him, and you wondered how far you’d have to go before he decided to leave again for good.

The answer you asked for left you feeling like you swallowed a Buick. It tasted wrong on your tongue like burnt iron, and it was too much to chew.

Throwing yourself on men’s laps like the true whore you’d grown into, you felt his stare on you all night, and no matter what you were doing, how loud you laughed or danced for dollars—Eddie stayed.

It should have charmed you, should have given you a little joy to know that despite your job, despite everything you’d been through with and without him, he wanted to be here. But those days had come and gone, and now the only thing you felt was burning rage.

Back in high school he would get so hurt when you’d show back up at the party having already smoked with someone else. You never forgot the way his eyes looked as you laid in the grass. Disappointment. The thing you couldn’t recognize in them at that time.

And disappointment was what you needed to find in his eyes tonight. But as you looked towards the bar where you knew he was sitting, the dark coal of his eyes weren’t looking at you at all. His head was lowered, picking at his nails.

The song played on, and the finale was coming up where you laid across the floor amongst the filthy cash and pretended like the moans from the woman in the song were your own, and that every guy in the bar was making you feel the ecstasy of an orgasm.

You wanted Eddie to be so uncomfortable he wouldn’t want to come back. He needed to hurt the way you had. He could have come back, Eddie knew you’d never leave Hawkins, and he— fuck, he promised that you’d both get out of here.

Maybe it was the drugs and the alcohol that were making you so irrational, but it never crossed your mind, and Eddie’s eyes never lifted to meet yours.

One hand was laid across his chest, your head resting on his right bicep, a bent leg between his. You’d been asleep for a half hour according to his watch, and it’d been twelve minutes of you curled into him the way you were.

Neither of you had any good ghost stories, your real life being scary enough there wasn’t anything to fantasize about being more terrifying than that.

The two of you talked for a long time, whispering stories back and forth, laughing about the shade of Higgin’s face when you had both egged his house on Halloween last year.

Quiet fell over you both and you tucked the blanket under your chin, a small yawn escaping your lips.

“Eddie? You awake?” you whisper.

His chest expands beside you, “yeah, are you?”

“Yeah.. I wanted to tell you—”

The high was gone and you laid stone sober. You needed to thank him for helping you, for never giving up on you when you were beginning to give up on yourself, but it fell flat, carried away on the cool breeze blowing through the treehouse.

“… your butt is really really white.”

Laughter fills the space between, and you and Eddie giggle until tears squeeze from your eyes.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

Moonlight shines through the open doorway illuminating the smile on his face, it was then that you began to see him differently as if he suddenly became more to you than anyone ever had. But maybe he always was.

Crossing a line you never had before, you lean forward pressing into him your body over his. Your heart raced but not any faster than his was. He was so handsome like this, and right here in this moment you felt as if it was second nature. As if looking at Eddie this way wasn’t new or different.

“You’re my best friend,” you said to him, stroking his cheek, “always and forever.”

You lean forward just enough for your lips to brush against his. The most delicate of kisses like a butterfly wing flapping in the wind.

Before he can say anything or react, you lay your head on the crux of his shoulder, and close your eyes.

When he was certain you were asleep, Eddie’s throat finally untangled and he whispered into your hair before kissing your forehead, “til the end of the world, baby.”

He couldn’t look. Out of respect for you and for your dignity, Eddie wouldn’t watch your set. It made him feel wrong, dirty, as if he were just another sleazy guy hoping to get into your pants.

Last call was hollered out and Eddie finally raised his eyes to see the stage now empty, only catching the shine of your heels walking to the dressing room.

The bar was emptying out, the bartenders had stopped serving. Overhead lights hissed as they illuminated around the bar, much like the club go-ers showing the true coyote ugly before a night of regret could begin.

The black haired bartender smiled big and set a glass of water in front of Eddie. “You okay to drive, sugar?”

Eddie smiles small, sliding his hands down his face, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for a friend, figured she needed a ride home.”

There weren't any other customers left in the club, and the bartender raised an eyebrow, “one of the girls?”

Eddie nods tiredly, taking a sip of his water.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell her that I was waiting, but.. don’t think she’s sober enough to drive.”

Jolene knew the other girls had already left, having had Kenny walk them all out to their vehicles, all but one.

“Clove?” she seemed a little startled, “you’re waiting for her?”

He rubs his hands together, “Yeah.” Her eyes narrow and she leans across the bar, waiting for an explanation on who he is. “I’m Eddie Munson. Slick— Clove, I mean, and I grew up together in Forest Hills.”

“Munson?” her eyebrows nearly cross, “Wayne? Or Al?”

“Al, un…fortunately,” he admitted, twisting his rings around his fingers, “back home for Wayne’s funeral.”

Lightbulbs clicked and Jolene spread a wide smile, “I remember you, Patty my aunt, babysat for Clove’s sister sometimes.”

“No shit? Swear this world gets smaller and smaller.”

Jolene sighs a bit of relief after connecting the dots on just who was waiting for you, a mother hen to her little chicks. “You and her kinda took care of each other back then, right? Looked after one another?”

He shrugged, not really comfortable talking about those times with a complete stranger, “kinda, I mean we really weren’t given a choice.”

Sighing deeply and looking worn out, Jolene shakes her head, “she needs a little of that right now, a lot of it actually.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, “choices? Or someone to take care of her?”

Before she can answer him, the dressing room door flies open with a clunk against the wall, likely to leave a hole where the doorknob hit the already crumbling drywall.

The fine powder around your nose was still dusted in a spot you had missed, and your slippers were back on your feet.

Looking from Jolene to Eddie and back again you scoff in annoyance, “what are you still doing here?”

Eddie looks a bit taken back but doesn’t let your hurtful words slice through him the way you had hoped they would.

“Gonna bring you home, make sure you get there, alive.”

Rolling your eyes, you bite a curt goodnight to Jolene and brush past Eddie, hitting him with your purse on the way out as you shuffle for your keys.

Jolene’s face is full of worry and she looks to Eddie with pity in her eyes, “she needs both.” Taking his glass she nods towards the door as you’re part way through it, “she’s been lost ever since she walked into this club…but lately, it’s gotten out of control.”

If his heart could plummet any further it would, but Eddie simply looked to Jolene and gave her a nod of understanding before he stood and jogged to follow you out of the doors.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

Gravel crunched beneath your slippers as you stumbled your way out to your car. The depths of your purse finally revealed the keys they’d been hiding and you pulled them out in a hissy fit, ignoring the calls of your name from the last person you wanted to see right now.

“—wait! Shit why are you walking so fast?” Eddie said pretending to be out of breath.

You nearly fell into the back end of your car as you shot him a glare refusing to answer him. Holding onto the sedan to make your way to the driver’s door, keys out.

“What are you—?” He realizes you’re trying to unlock the door so you could drive yourself home. His sober body being more agile than yours— he quickly finagles them from your fingers and puts them in his back pocket.

“Give them back!”

“No,” he says firmly, “you’re drunk, you’re not gonna kill yourself getting behind that wheel.”

“What are you the cops? A fucking pastor out east.. or west.. or wherever the hell you live at now? I’ve done it a thousand ti—” you groan in frustration when he backs away out of reach.

You reach for him again and again, holding onto his shirt and trying to yank him towards you. Eddie gets free and slams against the driver's door.

“Stop! I’m not letting you drive.”

All fight in you is lost. Instead you flip a switch and turn on the charm, batting your eyelashes like you would at any Sam, Dick or Harry at the club to get a good tip. Swinging your hips, pressing your body against his, your voice lilts into seduction.

“This what you want?” you ask sweetly, a sinister look in your eyes, “why you came home, right?”

Eddie’s lungs weren’t functioning, his mind blank, completely and utterly speechless at the way you were acting. He was repulsed, disgusted with how this night had turned out.

You walk your fingers against his chest, placing a manicured hand under his chin. His skin crawled, feeling the failure, the let down you had experienced seep out of you, because of him.

He was pissed, fuming with rage at the idea that you would think that this is what he wanted? To sexualize his own friend, you!?

You had been used to using your body to your advantage to get what you needed to survive. It had become almost thoughtless as you me body took over.

The alcohol, drugs, the provocative behavior, it was all a tangled web of coping. Of growing to be a product of your environment. Wearing a suit of spades from the same hand you were dealt.

He felt as if he was no better than those pigs in the bar who grabbed ass for freebies. Regret looming over him with each and every second that ticked by.

When your hands started to go south, Eddie’s brain zapped and he grabbed your wrists, halting you from touching him any further than you already had.

He searched into your eyes for a shred, an inkling of the girl he used to know. But came up with nothing but sadness and a glossy high.

“That’s enough.” His voice was firm, startling you into a gasp at his refusal to fall for whatever the hell you were trying to do, “get in the car, Clove… I’m taking you home.”

Rejection stung, but this was worse than that. Throwing yourself at Eddie, trying to make him so uncomfortable that he would leave the bar only for you to try to seduce him so you could drive your own car?

Pathetic. Self sabotage wins again.

Your face falls before you could whip up a response, or continue to argue with him. You didn’t see the way his eyes were wet or the way he was falling apart. Yanking your wrists from his light grasp, you march to the passenger side of the car, mountains of regret pressed heavy into your shoulders, but your face was painted in a false unbothered state.

His back is still turned away as your foot taps impatiently. A loud annoyed sigh from you finally renders Eddie free from the crestfallen place he’d seeped into.

He unlocks the door and gets in, adjusting your seat to accommodate for his longer legs, reaching across the center to pull the lock for you.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

Coming out of the shower you were surprised to see Eddie standing in your kitchen.

“I’m a grown woman… I don’t need you to coddle me.”

His flannel hung on the back of a chair and he wore a plain white shirt underneath, thin enough where you could barely make out more black swells of ink spread across his back.

He had insisted on walking you to your apartment despite you rolling your eyes so hard they could have fallen from your head.

“Heard you throwing up,” he said over his shoulder, flipping something in a pan, and moving to the fridge, bending low to retrieve something from the bottom shelf, “I’ve been with you almost all day and haven’t seen you eat a single thing—so get dressed and sit down while I make us some food, yeah?”

“Eddie,” you groan with thrown around explicits, stomping back to your room. You had thrown up while in the shower, entirely liquid your stomach purged itself until you were gasping for breath.

You grumbled as you fought your way into an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. Foregoing the trouble of drying off properly, you throw open your door and smell the sweet scent of cinnamon.

“Y’know you don't have anything in your cupboards, right?” Eddie called from the kitchen.

Your head and your heart were fighting each other on how you felt about him here in your apartment. And you threw all rational thoughts out the window as you geared up with vinegar in your veins, ready to argue with him.

Rolling your eyes again you say, “didn’t know I would be hosting Julia Child.” The counters are filled with mixing bowls, the scarce amount of milk you had left and a carton of eggs. “I rarely eat here, besides… nobody asked you to do this. I’m fine, I can make my own food… and you can leave.”

He stops whisking the eggs and shakes his head before continuing, holding the bowl and turning to face you.

“My skin has grown pretty thick over the last few years, so if you think you can insult me enough to hurt my feelings, save your breath.”

Hands on your hips you stare up at him, “maybe your thick skin can tell your thick fuckin’ head that I don’t need you around.”

��Do you push everyone away, or is this a special thing you’ve saved just for me?” Eddie asks earnestly.

You stalk towards him, arms crossed, “well I’ve had seven years to come up with what I needed to say, so don’t flatter yourself.”

“By all means, lay it on me,” he retorts, spreading his arms wide, “I deserve it—but I told you why I had to leave,” he half pleads, “I didn’t have a choice.”

Rage pours from you thickly, and you can barely stand yourself as you scream at him.

“There’s always a choice! You’re only here now because you know you made the wrong one, and you can’t live with that!”

“I have one regret in my life— one… and you’re right, it was leaving Hawkins without you. I think about it every single day, but don’t think I never—” he pauses long and hard.

Would he ever tell you? Not like this, not right now.

“Don’t think what?” you poke, sticking a knife into his wound and adding salt until it festered, “c’mon Eddie don’t quit on me now.”

You were being awful, but it was the best shield you had.

“Really wanna go there? Wanna have this talk? Fine, we can do that,” he stood tall but his shoulders sagged and his voice was quiet, “but only when you’re sober. I’m not fucking talking to you about this while you’re drunk and high.”

“‘m not drunk,” you sulked.

Eddie turned back to the stove, placing the eggs in the hot pan and letting them sizzle before scraping them around with a spatula, “whatever you think, sit down… this is almost done.”

You slid into a chair at your table, “I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t care, you need to eat, and lucky for you,” he chides, turning off the burners, “I worked as a cook for about a week a few years ago, so I made due with what you had.”

You wait for him to say he was joking but he never does, “how did you manage that—learning the fine culinary skills from making grilled cheese and orange koolaid?”

He laughs and opens a cupboard looking for plates, “well, living on the streets, you find out real quick just how much you’re willing to lie to get a job.”

Eddie places two pancakes on each plate with a heap of scrambled eggs and a few slices of an apple.

For the first time since he’s been back you take in account just how scary it must’ve been for him when he left, and your heart sinks.

“How long did you do that?” you ask quietly, moving towards the coffee maker and placing a filter into it, adding the grounds.

“Work as a chef? Oh not long they figured out I didn’t know anything about cooking shortly after I burned the hard boiled eggs.”

“No, I mean… live on the streets.”

Eddie carries the plates to the small table, “a few months here and there… crashed on a lot of couches until I had enough money to rent a room from a guy I worked with… wasn’t too bad, the van was pretty roomy.”

Nodding, you watch as the coffee brews and begins to drip into the glass pot. He moves behind you and back to the fridge to get out a tub of butter.

The itch of him being in your apartment felt so beyond foreign but was starting to feel almost comforting. As if him being around was closing your own open wounds, and you were getting whiplash from listening to your mind and then your heart all in one night.

“I’m sorry you had to do that.”

He turns to see you looking at him with a sad look in your eyes, and it broke him to see you go from one extreme to another. Fighting mad like a cat in a bathtub one minute to crying the next. As angry as you had been at him, he understood because he experienced the same kind of light switch type of emotions.

Two kids who never learned how to properly handle feelings, now barely adults still navigating the waters of being an adult.

“Hey,” Eddie spoke softly, crossing over to you, he places large hands around your biceps, looking deep into your eyes, “I’m alright, Clove. I made it out just fine, okay? Someday you’ll see for yourself just how good life can be, I promise.”

Hanging your head you mumble, “there’s nothing good left for me, Eddie.”

His hand moves under your chin before he can even wonder if what he’s doing is alright, and a tear falls before he can wipe it from your cheek.

“Don’t say that.”

Your eyes lift to him as more tears leak out, “I’m stuck here…you don’t know the kind of shit I’m in.”

Eddie pulls you into him as you cry, rubbing your back as you sob into his chest. You didn’t know the last time that you’ve been hugged and you melt into his arms as you tuck yours further into him.

You needed Eddie home, as much as you hated how your lives ended up, this was exactly what you needed. Him. Here, with you.

“I’ll help you, Clove…” he whispers into your hair, “all you need to do is let me.”

For the first time in a long while you believed him. Putting hope or faith or whatever you could into that moment, into his words. Holding that little ball of light at the end of the tunnel close to your chest.

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#eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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subbing-for-clones · 3 months

Text

The Defective Jedi

Chapter 1

Word count: 2.2k

Trigger Warnings: None really, just some fighting

Every day you tried to forget and yet almost every night you remembered. Wandering through the crystal caves of Ilum was horribly cold and felt so lonely. You were never particularly strong with the force but you always felt it. That connection between all things living and the energy it permeated, but when you entered the cave you felt, nothing. Why did you feel nothing?

You heard the other younglings yipping in happiness and laughing in triumph as one by one they found their kyber crystals and still, nothing called for you. Time was running out before the entrance became a wall of ice with no escape and even as a child you accepted defeat before you accepted death. You were the last to leave and the only one who was left empty handed. You would remember the disappointed look of Master Yoda forever, his eyes turned to the snow beneath his feet with a pained look before he looked back up at you.

It wasn’t long after that you were sent back home to Lothal. You had taken your parents pride and sullied it with failure and you don’t think they ever forgave you for it. It was true, you had failed before you even really got started. Your connection to the force just wasn’t strong enough to be a Jedi.

Still, you refused to let the connection go. You spent your formative years practicing the techniques you were able to learn in your short time studying under the jedi. Hours meditating every rotation searching for that warmth. You did find it; you could still feel it and so you taught yourself as much as you could.

Once you were able to venture out on your own you left Lothal and your parents’ resentment behind. Never really setting up a home; you joined a bounty hunter’s guild instead and used your abilities to become a fairly prolific hunter. It was during these years that all hell broke lose as war erupted all over the galaxy.

Only one year in and it wasn’t looking good. Hundreds of Jedi had fallen to the separatist forces and they needed help. This was when a desperate plea rang across the galaxy for the aid of anyone with force sensitive capabilities to come and join the fight for the republic. Whether it was out of the desire to help or need to prove yourself to the ones who threw you out you weren’t sure; still you answered their call.

You were tested and trained in a group of others with similar stories to your own under several rotating Jedi. At the end of your training, you were assigned to be exactly what you already were; a fighter. You were assigned to various squads as aid and back up; using your intuition, strategy skills and your fighting expertise on the battle field with the clones. You’d never hold a rank above a grunt but you didn’t care. Every victory was a curse on the Jedi for giving you up.

After months of rotating between battalions you were about to receive your permanent assignment. Clone Force 99, a rag tag team of four, apparently defective, clones. The irony didn’t escape you.

“Why are we getting a Jedi?” Hunter asked the hologram of Cody. The others standing back but still in view of the commander.

“She’s not a Jedi, she’s one of the force sensitives the Jedi asked to join the cause. She doesn’t hold rank over you, you’re still in charge.”

“I don’t like it.” Sneered Crosshair.

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice. The higher ups want these people sprinkled out through all the squads in case of a Sith attack. The Jedi worry about them rising up with the appearance of a few and quite frankly, no clone stands a chance agianst them. They can wipe out battalions.”

“When is she joining and for how long?” The Sergent was growing impatient and didn’t like the idea of a new member being added to their group.

“She’s waiting on Kamino for you now so you’ll meet her upon arrival, she’ll be with you until the war is over or until she runs as fast as she can away from you.” The commander had a small smirk on his face that Hunter mirrored. The idea of sending a Jedi, or whatever, running amused him.

Once they touched down on Kamino three out of the four were sightly on edge with the exception or Wrecker who seemed rather excited. He was generally the most welcoming. The worry melted away as soon as they laid eyes on you. You really didn’t look like a Jedi at all. You looked like an operative. Instead of a robe you wore black armor and in the place of a lightsaber at your hip, you had a blaster and a large curved vibro-blade.

Crosshair couldn’t help but eye you up and down the armor looked good on you. You took each of them in once you took your helmet off and introduced yourself to your new companions, a dance you’ve done before. Wrecker was kind enough to grab the two crates of your belongings and load them onto the ship. There wasn’t much time for pleasantries before you received your first mission. You were to extract data from an outpost on Teth and upload it straight to Cody. Information about prisoners of war and where they were being held was your main objective. Anything else was an added bonus. You all loaded onto the ship after eating a hearty meal in the cafeteria.

In the back of the ship next to the bunks you unpacked a few things from your crates.

“Whatchya got there?” Wrecker asked excitedly.

“Ill eat a loth cat before I sleep in GAR issued blankets.” He laughed heartily at your response and left you to continue. You didn’t have any photos to hang or many personal items at all for that matter but that’s how you’ve lived for the last few years anyway.

Once you were finished you made your way to the common area where the clones were discussing strategy. Quietly you took the empty seat between Tech and Crosshair. The outpost was situated in the middle of the jungle. Intel reported minimal guards as it wasn’t a main base but still enough that you all decided stealth was your best option.

Once the plan had been formulated they all looked at you expectedly.

“What is it?” you asked.

“So why didn’t you become a Jedi?” Tech asked outright, Hunter elbowed him but didn’t faze the goggled soldier.

“I tried but, well they decided I wasn’t strong enough. I’m closer to the force than most people but not close enough to be a Jedi.”

“You’re defective like us!” Wrecker shouted with glee, earning an elbow from Hunter as well. You actually laughed a bit.

“Yeah, you could say that. I’ve used my abilities as a bounty hunter since I left Lothal until I joined the GAR.”

Crosshair watched you out of the corner of his eye. You really weren’t what they thought you would be at all. You weren’t a religious zealot you were just someone trying to find their way in the galaxy like the rest of them. He admired that, the honesty too. You weren’t trying to be something you’re not.

That night in hyperspace you tossed and turned in your new bunk. Nightmares from close calls on a hunt filled your mind. You were often reminded of the times you came close to getting killed before a mission. Eventually you gave up and made your way toward the cockpit. You enjoyed meditating under the blue streaking lights. You were surprised to see that someone had beat you to it. The lithe handsome sniper sat in the pilot’s chair cleaning his fire puncher and mouthing a tooth pick.

He looked up at you slightly taken aback by your appearance. Quickly he composed himself and half waved his arm at the other seat as a silent invitation.

“Sorry for intruding, I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You’re not.”

You were starting to like the way words seemed to slither off his tongue. You nodded a thanks to him and turned to watch the stars soaring by at light speed. Both you sat in silence for a few minutes before he opened and shut his mouth, wanting to ask you something but Cross wasn’t sure if it was out of turn.

He mentally shrugged and asked, “So why did you join the GAR?”

“Is one part brave three parts fool a believable answer?”

“I doubt you’re a fool.”

“Well, we’ll see if you keep that opinion,” you chuckled and earned an upturn of the corner of his mouth.

“Honestly? I found it ironic that the Jedi needed our help now. I don’t hold too much resentment agianst them but I do want to prove myself as valuable. Besides, things make sense out here.”

“How so?” He turned in his chair to face you and put his rifle down for a moment. You glanced at him and shrugged your shoulders.

“There’s no confusion right now. We fight agianst Separatists and clankers. I’m sure there are good people on those planets but this is the side I chose to fight for so that’s what I’m going to do.”

Crosshair digested your words and offered “We didn’t get a choice.”

“If you did, what would you be doing?”

“That’s a difficult question to answer, I’ve never let myself be hypothetical like that before because there isn’t a choice. I.. We’re property of the GAR just like my rifle and this ship. Don’t tell Tech that though, it’s his ship in his mind.”

You giggled a bit at that and nodded your head in understanding.

“I spent so much time hunting and fighting bounties that this just seemed like a natural course of action. I can’t see myself doing anything else instead now.”

Crosshair picked up his fire puncher again and resumed cleaning it. You watched him for a while before turning back to the lights and closing your eyes. You reached out through the force trying to feel the Purgill you swore you heard. What you didn’t sense was Crosshair watching you intently.

You were going over the mission plan one last time while Tech was putting down the ship a few clicks away from the objective point. The jungle terrain was difficult to get through but not too much of a problem. The closer you got the more the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Cross left your group close to the outpost to climb one of the giant trees for a better vantage point.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” you whispered to the Sergent.

He nodded in response, seemingly sensing something as well. The post was supposed to be guarded by droids with a few officers scattered throughout but something was off. No perimeter defense and no guards posted outside. Your group made their way around to a side door shown on the schematics and while Tech was overriding security, you Hunter and Wrecker kept watch. You could Feel Crosshair’s eyes on you and it gave you an overwhelming sense of security knowing he was watching over you.

Three droids were posted on the inside of the door and as soon as you were in Wrecker crushed one agianst the wall, Hunter stabbed one in the chest and you took the last one’s head off with your long viroblade. Quickly you dashed in and made your way through the base looking for a data port. Tech found one on a lower level and plugged in, searching the database until he found what he needed.

“It seems there are around fifty clones being held captive for questioning on a moon in the outer rim. There are also schematics for the spider droids here…” Tech prattled on interesting things he was downloading until Hunter shushed him and signaled for him to hurry up. That’s when the alarm sounded.

“We gotta go, now.” You stated with certainty. Trusting your instinct the boys packed up and started running back up to the way out. Once the door was insight, a wall of droids emerged and started firing at you. You fell back around a corner and started shooting them with your blaster looking for a weak point in the wall.

“Wrecker throw a smoke grenade,” Hunter barked.

“On it!” Wrecker tossed two creating a large fog that allowed you to step out, you reached out your hand and with a little struggle, used the force to loosen a wall panel until it flew into the side of the droid squad, pinning them to the opposite wall.

“HA HA NICE!” Wrecker shouted.

The four of you ran like hell out of the outpost to find several fallen droids, courtesy of the reliable sniper.

Once the five of you were back on the ship and Tech was taking off Wrecker was excitedly telling Crosshair how you threw a wall at a bunch of droids, taking out ten in one go. There seemed to be an impressed glint in his eye.

“That was good work back there,” Hunter told you sincerely. You smiled and thanked him, watching as the data was sent through encryption straight to Cody to do with as he saw fit.

Your first mission with the squad, a success you exchanged a smile with the sniper and sat in your victory.

#crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #crosshair #no y/n

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sydsrichie · 2 years

Text

'til queendom come, ch. 7

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 10,004

ch. 7, pariah: "It is about time you young ones learned what it is to play the long game. Now is not the time for the rashness and hot blood of youth. It is time to dig in before winter and lay plans, Lady Visenya. Will you trust me on that?"

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+ in later chapters, mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse (including against minors), spoilers for HoTD/F&B

a/n: each and every ask, reply, reblog puts a gigantic grin on my face, guys, so thank you so so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Once the maester came to tend to her father, Sena did not waste any time in using the distraction to slip out of Dragonstone. The wind on the rolling moors before the keep’s walls was ice cold and it penetrated Sena’s dress like so many knives. She wrapped her arms around herself, her splinted one still aching angrily, and carried on up the incline to the smoking home of her family’s dragons.

The tunnel she found was a familiar one, and the skeletal remains of fish and seabirds littered the floor as she retreated into the cave. It was dark. So dark. And cold. The blackness was only broken by a thin few shafts of light penetrating the ceiling. She usually would have asked Grey Ghost for light, but she did not find him there. He was not coiled in the cavern, dozing safely and happily, knowing as sure as the sun rises in the east that it was only his master who approached him. His master, his only friend, who would never let harm come to him.

Sena’s chest started to constrict and spasm and she threw her weight down onto the cavern floor.

The sobs started wracking her body like they were being drawn from the depths of her stomach, the marrow of her bones. Her throat felt raw and her cheeks stung as she swiped at them angrily. She could not draw breath, could do nothing but gasp and pray desperately to every God she knew of that she would find air. The sounds that were shredding their way out of her throat echoed off of the rocks around her and bounced back to her ears like the wails of a ghost.

Maybe she was a ghost, doomed to haunt this smoking isle forever, lonely and lost. Try as she might to pretend otherwise, she was still little more than that sad child who fifteen years ago had wandered off into the hills, searching for a fabled dragon of the fisherfolk who was as alone in the world as she was.

The last few moons were nought but a bleak blur in her head. It had been savage blow after savage blow. Aemond, her poor, sweet uncle, Aegon’s crowning, Luke, Grey Ghost… and now this.

She had promised Jaehaerys they would race his uncle and sister on her own Grey Ghost. Now… now Aemond seemed an entire world away, and Grey Ghost was dead at her hands, and poor Jaehaerys. It did not bare thinking about. A tiny blood-soaked body… Helaena screaming.

Sena hit her hands off of the cave floor until they were raw and bleeding. She screamed and screamed until her voice failed her, throwing every rock and shard of bone she could lay her hands on, listening to them ricochet in the dark.

Her father.

The wet arc of his blood spattered across the front of her gown.

The split in her lip that leaked her own blood onto her tongue. The aching of her jaw where her father had struck her.

She needed to move. The castle garrison would come looking for her soon, once Prince Daemon was bandaged. When they asked the guards on the walls and found out she’d made for the Dragonmont, the empty haunt of her lost dragon would be the first place they checked. She had to move.

The only problem was that she could not see anything. Her hands were aching, her left arm had lost much of its sensation, and she was desperately cold, shivering even as she dragged in ice cold air like a dying man. Was this how Grey Ghost had always felt, like he was stumbling around in the dark? This was how she had killed him, flying him into a storm and taking his sight from him.

She got to her feet shakily. The cold air of the Dragonmont felt like knives in her chest. She needed to find somewhere safe to hide, somewhere in the smoking hill. Somewhere closer to the molten veins, far from the surface, far from where the Queen’s guards could find her.

Would she hang for it, she wondered? What sentence would the Queen pass down for an attempt on her consort’s life? Hanging was probably too kind - if they did it right, it would snap her neck and end it all instantly. No, her father would not like that. Maybe it would be Caraxes? The Blood Wyrm would do it, certainly - he held no love for her, did not even tolerate her like Vhagar did. But then, her father’s words rung in her head like a struck bell. He had no intention of wiping her from the face of the earth until he had first hurt her each way he could.

She would not be a prisoner until that day came, she decided.

The floor of the Dragonmont was uneven and slippy beneath her feet, damp in the cool air of the nearing winter. Her cotton dress and shift were like a paper shield against the penetrating cold, so she pushed forward, up the connecting passage and deeper into the heart of the hillside. She felt her away along the wall, probing carefully with her feet before her with every step so as not to be caught unawares by a sudden drop. Meagre sunlight broke up the darkness when it could, but she was mainly on her own, her eyes straining for any kind of guidance.

It was while she fumbled in the dark that she first heard a low growl. Fuck. She was just trying to find warmth, light, not step on the tail of a sleeping dragon-

The grumble grew louder and she crouched into the wall, as if it could give her any cover. It had to be one of the bigger dragons she had stumbled across, as the sound was distant and echoing, like it was coming from overhead. Not Syrax, Vermax or Tyraxes. She winced. Maybe Caraxes was about to put a swift end to her after all. “Lyks,” she hissed urgently. “Lyks. Lykiri.” Peace. Calm down. She crouched down before the beast, making herself small, willing the racing of her heart to slow.

The dragon did not set fire to her, at least. Not straight away. Recognising its own tongue, the blood of the dragon, the way she was only sitting somewhere close by and not actively trying to come nearer, was enough to get the beast to settle some.

Sena let out a long breath and calmed her racing heart. “Nyke jeldan naejot sagon mērī,” she said, I wanted to be alone. “Kesan daor jenigon ao.” I will not bother you.

The dragon grumbled its assent. The cavern was warmer, at least, with the great beast’s breath filling the air, and Sena felt her shivers subside as she set herself down on the stone. The floor radiated a little heat, closer to the glowing heart of the Dragonmont. She could stay here - for awhile, at least.

She focused on her breathing. In and out. That was it. That was all she had to do.

-----

Sena had no idea how long it was before she heard boots approaching and distant calls of “Lady Visenya?” Men’s voices. More than one. The castle garrison. As soon as the dragon she shared her cavern with heard, it shifted in the dark and growled, low and menacing.

The steps in the hallway faltered. “Careful,” one man hissed to another. “That one doesn’t sound friendly.”

“We have to find her,” the companion hissed. “We can’t go back to the Queen empty-handed.”

“We won’t go back to the Queen at all if we get torched.”

The second man made a sound and said, “C’mon, then, craven. We’ll look for her elsewhere.”

The footsteps retreated again.

Sena could feel the dragon’s gaze on her, the beast’s steady breathing causing her skirts to ruffle a little. She hoped the beast would not decide her to be more hassle than she was worth and just torch her there and then.

It wasn’t until many hours later that she heard someone approaching again. She’d been passing in and out of a light sleep, her thoughts exhausting her and her stomach starting to growl. But she heard light feet on the hallway she had come down, and the dragon sharing the cavern stirred once more, growling at the incomer.

“Lykiri,” came a woman’s voice. “Nyke māzigon isse lyks.” I come in peace.

The woman bore a torch, and blinding light flickered across Sena’s field of vision for the first time in hours. She flinched and averted her eyes. Gods, could no one in this damned family leave well enough alone?

Princess Rhaenys stood at the mouth of the cavern, her eyes catching on Sena’s crouched form with an unreadable look on her face. “There you are, my lady,” she said. “You’ve had the entire castle garrison and all the family scouring Dragonstone for you all day.”

Sena gritted her teeth at the idea of Jace, Baela and Rhaena knowing what she had done and being made to search the entire isle for her. “The dragon kept the garrison away.’

“He could do that, yes,” the Princess raised her torch, and the light caught on a truly fearsome beast, bronze in colour and twice the size of Sena’s Grey Ghost. The dragon peered at Rhaenys through a slit of eyelid, then lay his head down to go back to sleep, unbothered by the intrusion. “He was my grandfather’s mount, once upon a time. I flew across the realm upon Meleys with him on a royal progress, when I was a young woman. The same progress where I told my grandfather I intended to marry Lord Corlys.”

Sena gazed up at the bronze beast in wonder. “Vermithor?” She breathed. The name was like legend in her family. The mount of her great-grandfather, Jaehaerys I, the progenitor of all living Targaryens and the greatest King their House had put on the Iron Throne. The King who seized back power and restored order to the Seven Kingdoms after his father’s throne was usurped by Maegor the Cruel. The Conciliator. It had been Vermithor who bore Jaehaerys I across the realm, from the North to the Stormlands, cowed his enemies and sired clutches of eggs that had birthed many of their current dragons.

Rhaenys had a wistful look in her eye. “Those were better days,” she said, and looked down at where Sena still huddled on the cavern floor. “If you had told me then as a young woman that my good, kind Uncle and bawdy, courageous Aunt would sire a man like your father… I would have been too naive to believe you.”

Daemon never told her about her grandfather and grandmother, Baelon the Brave and Princess Alyssa. Truthfully, she thought he struggled to speak of them. Childbirth scared her father - he had not been with Rhaenyra through any of her births after losing both his mother and his second wife to the birthing bed. And if someone who seemed so destined for greatness as her grandfather Baelon could die of something as menial as a burst belly… she sometimes thought it had put a recklessness in her father, a distaste for patience, reserve, morality. He could die at any moment and it weighed on his mind constantly. It made him dangerous. “So you’re not here to drag me back to Dragonstone and clap me in chains then?”

Rhaenys gave her a wry look. “If I was, I wouldn’t waste time by standing here talking to you, girl,” she said. “Your father has left for his troops in the Riverlands. The Queen commanded him to stay and heal, but he is as wilful as he is foolish.”

“’Twas only a letter opener,” Sena said darkly, “he’ll live.”

“I can’t decide if you meant to kill him or not. Lord Corlys thinks you did. My grandchildren think you did not.”

“I knew I couldn’t. Like I said, it was only a letter opener. I just… wanted him to feel the fear he inflicts on others,” Sena said, rubbing at her eyes with the backs of her hands. There were still specks of blood on them, she noted with a grim smile. “So I guess there isn’t an answer to your question.”

Rhaenys nodded, as if that was answer enough. “Are you going to come back down to the keep for supper and a salve on that bruise or shall I have to send your sisters up with a plate?” She asked. “The Queen will not punish you tonight. The immediate threat to Daemon’s life is over and I do not think she would wish to lose the loyalty of any more dragonriders.”

Sena looked at her, really looked at her. Took in the snow white streaks in her hair and the fine lines on her face. She envied the Princess her wisdom, she realised with a pang. She envied the assuredness and the strength that Rhaenys walked through the world with. The kind of certainty you only get from having your world fall to pieces and putting it back together many times over the years. The assuredness that nothing in life was unsalvageable if you knew how to pick through the rubble. Sena did not know if she was strong enough to make it as far as the Princess had, not if her next twenty years were to be anything like her first. “Am I supposed to just go back to normal? Pretend nothing’s happened?” She asked and her voice was hoarse from the screaming.

“No,” the Princess said, shaking her head. “I am not asking you to do that. But it is about time you young ones learned what it is to play the long game. You will not get your revenge today, my lady… or tomorrow, or in the next moon, or maybe even next year. Now is not the time for the rashness and hot blood of youth - you tried that today and it failed spectacularly. It is time to dig in before winter and lay plans, Lady Visenya. Will you trust me on that?”

Sena considered her and thought about it. It was true, rashness had not prevailed today. Her father was still breathing and more livid than ever, even if he had run off to the continent to lick his wounds. She also knew she had lost much of her favour with the Queen. Not that she could truly care who liked her, not while Helaena was leagues away, drowning in agony and grief. But if she wanted to stop this war, wanted to stop the pain, the death, wanted to right the wrongs that had been done to her and the people she loved… she sighed. “I guess I had best keep my strength up, if it’s the long game we’re playing,” she said and pushed herself up from the ground, a little wobbly.

Rhaenys gave her the barest hint of a smile. “Now you’re getting it.”

After that day, Rhaenyra was loathe to be in Sena’s presence. Whether it was fear or anger or shame, Sena did not know. But truthfully, she did not mind. She too could not stand to be in the presence of a Queen who either had not known that Daemon had set his eyes on Prince Jaehaerys or had elected to ignore it. So Sena trained instead, and helped train Jace and Joffrey and Baela, and wandered the Dragonmont when she needed some quiet, some time alone. And with every meal and prayer and parry and heartbeat, she thought of Helaena.

Helaena, Alicent, Aegon, Daeron… Aemond.

The maester to her father’s army reported his swift recovery. Targaryen blood burned out infection better than all others and she had clearly missed everything vital. Sena made a grim mental note to herself to study the veins and arteries of the neck when she got the chance.

Harrenhal fell quickly to Prince Daemon’s burning wrath, and by all reports it set the green council ablaze. Ser Otto Hightower was dismissed from the Tower of the Hand, with Ser Criston Cole taking up his office and the Usurper’s armies being ordered to march. It seemed the war of words was well and truly over, and the storm of swords was about to begin.

It was the day that Maester Gerardys removed the splint from Sena’s arm and she was testing out her healed arm that a new line of dominoes began to fall. She had managed to dress herself and was overjoyed at being able to wear her favourite gowns again when her handmaiden, Sophey interrupted her. “Pardon me, m’lady, but the Queen is requesting your presence at the war table.”

Sena looked up, shocked. “Are you sure?” She asked Sophey and the doe-eyed girl nodded hurriedly. What could Rhaenyra possibly want with her at the war table? She had not spoken to Sena in two long moons and this was how she chose to break the silence? “Okay,” Sena nodded stiffly. “I’ll be right behind you.”

When she entered the makeshift throne room in Dragonstone’s great hall, she curtseyed low to the Queen. Rhaenyra was more gaunt than the last time Sena had seen her, clearly was not sleeping well, and let Sena stay crouched in a curtsey for a moment, seemingly deciding whether or not to relieve her legs. “Rise,” she commanded eventually, coldly, and Sena’s thighs burned with relief as she followed the order.

Around the war table, the Queen, Prince Jacaerys, Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys were focused on the small corner of the map they currently stood in, the mouth of Blackwater Bay. Sena could see black dragons on Dragonstone, Driftmark and Harrenhal, showing their forces, and a green dragon advancing up the coast. “What news do we have?” She asked, drawing close to the table to observe the troop positions.

“Duskendale has been sacked,” Lord Corlys said, “with heavy casualties for us and the death of a member of the Queen’s black council. Now, Ser Criston Cole lays siege to Rook’s Rest, and Lord Staunton is asking for our aid.” He slid the letter across the table to Sena, who took it up to read it.

Some 3000 knights, men-at-arms and sellswords at the gates of a town garrisoned by a hundred men, and that was not even considering the usurper-king on dragonback. It did not look good for Lord Staunton. “Then we should send dragonriders. The greens are attacking our declared allies to prevent further defection in the Reach, the Riverlands, the Crownlands. If we are to gain more supporters, we must defend the ones we already have.”

“Our allies?” The Queen bit out. “You still count yourself amongst our number after making an attempt on the life of your Queen’s consort, your own father?”

“Mother,” Jace warned in a stiff tone.

“It’s alright, Jace,” Sena placated him with a small smile. He looked so grown, standing there in his fine wool and steel, his brow adorned with a circlet. “It seems as though I’m here because you are asking me for help. Is that right?” She asked the Queen, who looked away from her with a flicker of rage.

Lord Corlys seemed to be suppressing a weary sigh when he said, “Yes, my lady.”

“What do you want from me?” She asked and eyed Princess Rhaenys. She remembered her words in the Dragonmont that day - that it was time to dig in and lay plans. Sena would not end this war today or tomorrow, as much as she might wish it. But if she was to have any hand in it coming to an end sooner rather than later - fuck whoever sat on the damnable throne in the end - it was high time she rolled her sleeves up and started incurring favours and loyalties.

Princess Rhaenys gave her a knowing smirk, and Sena felt a burst of pride. It was high time she sharpened up and learned to play. Aemond would be proud. “We think it is time you claimed another dragon and joined me in defending Rook’s Rest.”

Sena raised her eyebrows and looked to Lord Corlys, who was clearly in on the plan, eyeing his wife. The Queen was stoney faced, and Jace seemed even less pleased. “Do we have a shortage of dragonriders on Dragonstone?” Sena asked, a little perplexed.

Jace frowned unhappily and was ready to speak up when his mother silenced him with a hand. The Queen met Sena’s gaze. “Baela’s Moondancer is much too young to go to war. Rhaena has no dragon, no experience as a dragonrider and I will not put my sons into the monstrous paths of my half-brothers again. Nor will I risk making them orphans by going myself.” The implication that by comparison Sena was expendable was clear.

“I also have no dragon,” Sena said. He died, trying to save your son, she longed to say. “Aegon’s beast is young, still not so large. Smaller than my Grey Ghost. The Red Queen is more than a match, Princess,” she told Rhaenys.

“Nothing is ever so certain when dragons dance, my lady,” Rhaenys said grimly. “If we can stack the deck in our favour, we ought to. Make a decisive victory of it and shatter Cole’s advance.”

Sena considered it. “What dragon did you have in mind?” She asked. “We have a number of riderless ones. Will it be a case of wandering the Dragonmont like it is the Street of Silk until one takes a liking to me?” She got a hint of a smile out of Jace at that.

“I think one already has,” Princess Rhaenys said dryly. She was a somewhat humourless woman, Sena thought, and found she liked that about her. “My grandfather’s mount is not a kindly beast. He is ferocious, only tolerates my presence because I have been around him and pulling at his tail since I was out of swaddling clothes.” Lord Corlys looked a little horrified at that, as members of other houses were wont to when they heard of children playing with dragons. “The fact that he did not eat you that day I found you in his cavern is enough indication to me that you could be a good match.”

Sena thought of the gigantic beast, the colour of beaten bronze, large enough to ride a horse down his gullet, and shivered. “Just because he liked me enough not to make a meal of me does not mean he will let me ride him or command him,” she said. “Even if he did, we would need time to bond so I could control him. Time we do not have. I will not have a repeat of what happened above Storm’s End.”

Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys and Jace all stiffened at the mere mention of Storm’s End, and the implication that it had not been entirely under Prince Aemond’s control. It was so much easier to hate him, call him One-Eye and kinslayer if they could believe him to be evil to the core. But for the love she still bore the Prince, Sena would not have it. The Queen glared at her. “On the contrary, that might be exactly what we need. Put an end to the Usurper and I’ll make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

“I do not see what that would achieve,” Sena said coldly, her tongue dripping with acid. “I am already rich, and Aegon has heirs… unless we were planning on murdering Aegon’s other infant son, as well.”

Queen Rhaenyra gripped the model black dragon in her hand hard enough to splinter and clenched her jaw. “If that’s what it takes,” she said, but it sounded weak to Sena’s ears, like she could not bring herself to mean it.

Rhaenys looked like she was stifling an eye roll at their dramatics. “This war will not be ended by cutting off a single head, for two more will always grow in its place,” she said plainly. “We need to do this with force, with decisiveness. And with unity.”

Sena sighed and looked across the table at her cousin. Rhaenyra looked tired and broken. “If my Queen will have me, I will join this fight, Princess.”

Rhaenyra looked up at her from across the table and her expression was conflicted. So vengeful, and yet Sena thought faintly that it was not directed at her. She was just unlucky enough to be close at hand, catching the brunt of it. “I will have you,” Rhaenyra breathed, and Princess Rhaenys gave a barely audible sigh of relief.

Sena nodded at her cousin, then looked down at her dress. “I guess I had better go change, then.”

-----

The morning was brisk as Sena pulled her dragon-hide gloves into place. The leather under her chainmail felt strange on her body, too stiff, too new. The armour was an inky black and her breastplate was emblazoned with the crest of her family, a crimson three-headed dragon reaching for its own tail. As she stalked up the incline to the Dragonmont, she prayed to every god who would listen that Vermithor would be in a pliant mood.

Thrice. That was how many times she had ridden Vermithor so far. She could barely even work the chains on his saddle that kept him from throwing her midair. But needs must, and Rook’s Rest was in distress, so she was approaching the great bronze dragon with trepidation in her chest, ready to meet Rhaenys and Meleys on the cliffside.

Vermithor surveyed her with amber eyes as she entered his dwelling. He was still young enough not to be as sluggish as Vhagar and that made her even more nervous, being surveyed by a dragon big enough to swallow her whole, nimble enough to catch her off her guard and interested enough to bother doing it. “Lykiri,” she commanded as Vermithor’s tail flicked with irritation at being disturbed once again. It had been some five-and-twenty years since the Old King’s death, and Vermithor had grown used to being his own master. “Dohaerās.”

The dragon did not seem pleased to see her but did not protest as she started the long clamber up his wing and onto his back. As soon as she brought him back from Rook’s Rest, she would be adding some sort of ladder to his saddle, but there was no time for that now. With a grunt, she jumped and caught the stirrup and back of the saddle with her hand and elbow, and her left arm twinged as she dragged herself up. Undignified, but worth it to be riding one of the largest dragons her House had ever hatched. That was, if she could control him and not accidentally set a killing machine on the people of Rook’s Rest. She had some comfort in the fact that Vermithor was familiar with Rhaenys and Meleys - at least they would be safe from whatever carnage she unwittingly unleashed.

The ground shook as Vermithor moved, and he clawed his way forward, out of his cavern and onto the side of the Dragonmont. When he met the fresh sea air, he let free a deafening roar that almost had Sena clapping her hands over her ears. She hurriedly fastened the saddle chains to her armour before he could take flight and throw her off with a well-timed flick of his tail. “Gīda,” she commanded the beast. Calm. Whatever good that would do.

Above her on the side of the Dragonmont, Sena saw the vibrant red of Meleys emerging from her cave and a sharp salute from the Princess. “Are you ready?” Rhaenys bellowed down the hillside.

“As I’ll ever be,” Sena gritted out below her breath. Then, “Sōvēs,” she commanded the dragon in a strong tone, and the bronze giant lurched forward. His size meant he was not so manoeuvrable as Grey Ghost, and instead used the sea cliffs to drop off of to take to the air. Sena’s heart lurched every time he did it, pitching them both over the edge and letting them fall for seconds that felt like hours. Then, with a solid, swooping beat of his wings, they would soar up, up into the clouds.

Meleys followed behind her on the wind as Sena turned Vermithor due west. It would not be a long flight - as they climbed into the sky, she could practically see Rook’s Rest on the horizon - but every moment, her heart was in her throat.

It was bizarre, to ride a dragon this large. Larger than her father’s own Caraxes, larger than Syrax and Vermax put together. Vermithor’s wings covered vast swaths of the bay, blotting entire islands from Sena’s view, and sometimes, when she pulled at him or bellowed commands, she felt like she was trying to reign in a glacier, so vast and uncaring was the beast.

She could do this, though. She needed to believe it. If she was to have any chance at putting a stop to this bloodshed and torment, she would need to be riding a dragon like Vermithor. The only thing her family ever bowed to, the thing they had been wielding as a weapon for more than a century now was the pure, unadulterated power given to them by their dragons. Without them, they were nothing.

After some time in the air, with Meleys close behind, Rook’s Rest drew closer until it was beneath them. From here, Sena could see the town’s walls and the thousands of soldiers marshalled outside, laying siege and blockading every road in and out.

Trying out her control of him, she commanded Vermithor lower and he swooped down over the King’s army. She squinted her eyes and could make out dragon banners, mounted knights, men at arms. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and turned to the sky to watch the two dragons circling overhead, one a vicious red and the other monstrously large. Sena’s breath caught in her throat when she laid eyes on Sunfyre - proclaimed to be the most beautiful dragon to have ever lived. He was a fine beast and shone like beaten gold against the burnt ground he coiled on, watching his kin circle above him with lazy interest.

Sena sighed and commanded Vermithor down to land in the town square. It was barely big enough - she gritted her teeth as smallfolk rushed out of the way and Vermithor’s tail knocked the top of the spire off of a sept, but she was suddenly surrounded by gasps of relief and cheering, so she guessed she was forgiven.

She met Lord Staunton in his keep with Princess Rhaenys. He was beyond relieved to see them - the people of Rook’s Rest would have needed to start slaughtering the horses to keep eating if relief had not arrived soon, he informed them. “Relief is here,” Princess Rhaenys said, standing tall in her armour and doing her best to calm him.

There was little to be done to calm anyone when the letter from the encampment outside arrived, however.

Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men and Protector of the Realm requests the presence of the Bronze Dragon at parlay. In one hour, a pavilion will be erected before the gates of Rook’s Rest. Guest right will provided in the form of bread and salt so that negotiations may proceed peacefully and safely for all parties.

The Bronze Dragon. Sena gripped the letter in her hands and nodded at Rhaenys. It had been what they wanted. They had hoped that Vermithor’s mere presence would be enough to scare off the enemy and end the siege without blood being shed. She could only hope that Aegon would be smart about this. “I will go-“

“I will come with you, my lady,” Princess Rhaenys said firmly. Sena’s pride smarted at that. The Princess caught her look and sighed. “I mean no offence but in these matters, you remain as green as grass.”

Sena set her jaw, knowing that Rhaenys meant it in more ways than one.

Within the hour, a pavilion was hastily erected before the town gates, and Sena and Rhaenys approached under a peace banner. Their dragons stayed inside the town but the women remained armed for their own protection.

Sena ducked under the tent flap and came face to face with Aegon and Ser Criston for the first time in many moons. Aegon could not be said to look kingly - he was as gaunt and tired-looking as ever - but he was still the handsome lad she remembered and he sent her a menacing grin. Ser Criston nodded his head at her but showed little warmth despite knowing her from girlhood. The badge of his new office shimmered on his cloak.

Both men were less impressed when Rhaenys followed behind her. Aegon huffed and poured them wine, which they hastily ignored in favour of the bread and salt Ser Criston pushed towards them across the table. Sena chewed at the dry heel of loaf the enemy had scrounged up and grimaced at the salt on her tongue. Aegon might have been enough of a cur to not care for the symbolic protection of guest right, but Ser Criston was nothing if not a stickler for the rules. When it suited him, at least.

“What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenys asked as soon as she had swallowed her own guest right.

It was Aegon who spoke, leaning forward in his seat. He shone from neck to toe in polished plate, his circlet of Valyrian steel and rubies nestled in his silver blonde hair and the other ancestral blade of their house hung at his hip. Sena was not fooled. It would take more than Blackfyre and the crown of the Conqueror to make Aegon a King. “We simply wish to give you an opportunity to turn tail and leave before things get… messy,” he said with his familiar lilting smirk.

“It’s more than you gave Prince Jaehaerys,” Criston cut in, surveying them both stonily.

Sena clenched her jaw and Rhaenys balked at that, going pale in the face and rounding on Aegon. “If it is mercy you speak of, what sort of mercy did your mad dog of a brother show my grandson?” She spat.

Aegon grinned at the mere reminder of Lucerys’s fate and it only set Rhaenys further on edge, reaching for the hilt of her blade. Sena laid a hand on her arm to stop her, trying to catch her gaze with a glare. Where were her lectures about rashness and hot blood now? Was it just that she did not know Aegon? Did not know how purely aggravating and contemptuous he could be?

But it was Ser Criston who spoke up, cutting through the thick tension between the Princess and the would-be King. “Careful, Princess. You speak of someone who is very dear to all those around you,” he said, and Sena glared at him, her cheeks flaring with shame.

Aegon looked at her and smirked at the embarrassment on her face. “Everyone knows, goodsister. It’s alright.”

“Shut it,” she snapped at him and Gods, if she could only reach across the table between them and clobber him with his own crown.

Ser Criston was not looking at her, though, and addressed the Princess. “We are willing to incur what casualties we must to raze Rook’s Rest to the ground, Princess. It would certainly show your allies how little the support of their so-called Queen is worth. You need only look outside this pavilion to see we are equipped to accomplish this,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed Princess Rhaenys with a hard look. “Of course, neither of us truly desires a battle where considerable life will be lost, and potentially another dragon. We would like to discuss the terms of a mutual retreat, if that is amenable.”

Sena looked at Ser Criston in confusion as he rounded the table. Mutual retreat? What in the name of the Gods was this about? It made no sense. Ser Criston offered to escort Princess Rhaenys from the tent, and rage flared inside Sena. The disrespect of it all, speaking as if she was not there-

Once they had left the tent however, Aegon turned to Sena, furious, and it all became a little clearer. “Why did you bring her? I asked for you and you alone.”

Sena rolled her eyes. It was all a ploy. “Do you think I can command her about like a servant? Do you truly think I got a choice in the matter, fool?”

Aegon scowled at her. “It’s King Fool to you.”

“Fine then, King Fool. Do you care to explain to me what in the seven hells this parlay is about? You don’t truly expect me to believe you would give up so easily, or expect us to,” she said, leaning over him where he sat.

Aegon considered her for a second, clearly trying to come up with some pithy response. He eventually realised where he was, though and that time was of the essence. He cut to the chase. “He won’t fight you.”

“Who?”

Aegon screwed up his face like he was talking with a simpleton. “Gods, Visenya, who do you think?”

Her brow shot up. “Aem-“

King Fool stood up swiftly and slapped a gloved hand over her mouth, eyeing the tent flap where Ser Criston and Princess Rhaenys had been moments earlier. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed.

Sena’s blood thundered in her ears. “He’s here?”

“Yes,” he nodded and her heart swooped, suddenly turning her head this way and that like Aemond was going to materialise in the corner of the pavilion or pop out from under the table. “This was a trap for Meleys, but even my clever brother did not think to anticipate you swooping in on the second largest dragon in the known world. You really ought to have words with him - underestimating you like that shows a certain lack of respect, no?”

“Aegon,” she hissed, willing him to focus.

“Right,” he said, conceding with a nod. “So we’re at a stalemate. He does not wish to fight you - I think the whole nearly killing you the first time thing is weighing on him, y’know? And if I know this ridiculous little lovesick dance of yours well enough by now, I know you do not wish to fight him. So what does that leave us with?”

Sena thought about it for a second, leaning down to the table to cradle her head in her hands. Aemond was here. He was near her, near enough to talk to, near enough to explain, near enough to babble apologies, touch, kiss until they were drunk on each other. “We both go home,” she breathed. The thought was agonising. “Aemond goes to King’s Landing, I go to Dragonstone.” And in the ensuing battle, Meleys would snap Sunfyre’s neck, she thought grimly.

“No way,” Aegon waggled a finger at her. “Not good enough, goodsister. I would like to propose you and Princess Rhaenys turn around and go home and leave us to Rook’s Rest. No bloodshed, no sad ballads to be written about star crossed lovers dying on each other’s swords today.”

She scowled at him and looked around her. “Where is he? You can’t expect me to stand here and have this conversation with King Fool. Gods, even Cole would be better.”

“No,” Aegon snapped, his expression gone hard and he looked so like his little brother in that moment that Sena’s heart leapt to her throat. “You don’t get to speak to him. You don’t get to bat your eyelashes at him and say pretty please, none of that shit. You are going to turn around, go and explain to our sweet cousin Rhaenys that the largest dragon alive is sat behind a hill five leagues away, and go home. You won’t win this fight, Sena. And I know you think I don’t care about this family, but I won’t watch my brother destroy himself by killing you.”

“I can’t, Aegon,” she hissed, her throat burning. “I can’t counsel retreat. Don’t you think they already mistrust me enough, for how I love your sister? For how I feel about your brother? If I turn tail now, my own father will take it as a betrayal and slit my throat in my sleep.”

Aegon looked as though he could not care less. “Not my problem, sweet Sena,” he said. “You could have switched sides anytime you liked… you still can.”

Sena ignored that vehemently, blazing right past it. “And what if we hold fast? What if you turn around and go home?”

“We don’t go home,” he said. He was growing weary of this now, his expression sullen. “There will be a fight if you do not retreat, Sena. And Aemond is dutiful, he will do what I command of him and turn Vhagar against you if he must. I don’t want that to happen, but the alternative is giving up the crown and losing my fucking head. Not just mine, all of our heads.”

Sena leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess we’re at an impasse, then.”

Aegon shook his head at her in disbelief. “Trust my brother to love the most stubborn fool in the Seven Kingdoms. It seems we are, Sena.”

She surveyed him. The armour that was tailored to him perfectly but still did not seem to fit, the crown that was seemingly causing his neck to buckle under the weight. She eyed Blackfyre on his sword belt. Could think of few people in her family less suited to wield it. “I’ll speak to Rhaenys,” she said at long last. “If I can convince her to retreat, you will have my word by daybreak tomorrow.”

Aegon nodded his acquiescence and sunk deep into his chair, raising his goblet to take a long gulp of wine. “Think about it carefully, Sena. And I meant what I said. Whatever you feel towards me, there will always be a place for a stubborn bitch with a big dragon in my army.”

Sena shook her head at him and turned to leave. She paused at the tent entrance though, and her heart stuttered in her chest. She could not stop herself saying it. “I’m sorry,” she said, “about your son. He was a sweet boy.”

Aegon’s petulant manor froze and his jaw went tight. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t kill him,” he said, and she could hear a quiver in his voice.

“I’m sorry it has come to this, Aegon,” she said softly.

He frowned down into his lap and the crown slipped deeper down his brow. “So am I.”

Sena braced herself with a breath. “How is Helaena?”

But Aegon wasn’t having it. He shook his head at her. “You have made your choice, Sena. I think you have lost the right to ask me about her.”

“Aegon-“ she said with a pang in her chest, but he cut her off.

“Good day, Lady Visenya. Consider my terms carefully.”

-----

“There is not a decision to be made,” was Rhaenys’s answer to Aegon’s proposal over supper that night. They had been given Lord Staunton’s private dining room, and a fire crackled low in the grate, their food barely touched. Sena felt guilty for wasting what was already in short supply, but her gut was churning so much it was unthinkable to eat. “We must stand and fight.”

Sena dragged her hands through her hair with a weary sigh. “It’s not truly a decision, is it? If we turn back now, we’ve as good as lost this war. Our lives will be forfeit.” What hope did they have of suing for peace if their allies saw their words meant nothing? What leverage would they have to stop Aegon storming Dragonstone and putting them all to the sword? “And if we fight… the odds are about as even as they’re ever like to be.”

“Even? We’re still a hundred against an army.”

“The real battle is the one in the air, you know that,” Sena said, eyeing Rhaenys. Their family’s battles were fought and won with their dragons - the Conquerors had shown what little use men-at-arms were against the winged wyrms of Old Valyria.

“So it is the dragon battle you’re concerned about?” Rhaenys asked and Sena knew that was what she had been probing at all along.

Sena narrowed her eyes. “I would be a fool not to be concerned about it. I ride a dragon I have no bond with against two of my cousins, one of whom rides Vhagar.”

“It is not Vhagar you are worried about, though, is it?” Rhaenys said, leaning back in her seat and holding her wine goblet close. She surveyed Sena with hard eyes, and the words caught in Sena’s throat. Rhaenys sighed. “You shall take Vermithor against Sunfyre and I shall take Meleys against Vhagar. Do you think you can do that?”

Sena raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, Princess, I don’t think that is a fight you can win.” There were few dragons alive who could hope to survive a bout with Vhagar and at first glance, Sena would not put Meleys among them.

“You give me little choice, Visenya,” she said, and pushed her chair back with a scrape. She composed herself and went to leave, the matter having been decided.

“If it was Lord Corlys,” Sena said, stopping Princess Rhaenys in her tracks. “If you found yourself on opposing sides with the Sea Snake, could you truly meet him in battle?”

Rhaenys turned back to her and gave her a pitying look. “If what you feel for that brute is a shadow of what I feel for Lord Corlys… you are truly lost, Visenya,” she said, and Sena’s heart plummeted. The elder woman sighed, not uncaring. “And truthfully, I do not know what you are doing here.”

Neither did Sena.

Daybreak came and went, with no peace signed.

It was midday by the time Aegon’s vanguard made to breach the gates. Lord Staunton’s men held it valiantly and defended their position, but the two dragonriders knew that their time had come. With a nod to Rhaenys and a prayer to the Gods, Sena took to the skies upon Vermithor. No sooner had she chained herself to his saddle than she caught sight of Sunfyre rising with her, a brilliant gold-and-pink blur against the sky. She set her sights on her target and steadied herself.

It was only when she saw Vhagar’s monstrous form looming in the distance that dread flooded through her like ice water.

As Vhagar drew closer and Meleys circled above her, Sena suddenly knew for certain that this did not bode well for Rhaenys. Meleys was not a small beast by any measure, but Vhagar loomed nearly twice as large.

Before she could intercede though, Sunfyre was tackling Vermithor and the battle in the sky begun. It was as though the brothers could read her mind exactly and knew they needed to divert her to give Aemond a chance to take down Rhaenys.

But Sena forced it all from her mind for now and focused on her own battle. Vermithor was new to her, did not know her well enough. That coupled with Sena’s own gnawing uncertainty was enough to draw the fight between Vermithor and Sunfyre nearly equal as Meleys and Vhagar clashed behind her.

Sunfyre banked and rolled, resplendent in the high noon, missing Vermithor’s gnashing teeth by the breadth of a scale every time. Sena could hear Aegon laughing. Could hear the howls of Vhagar and Meleys tearing at each other on the wind.

Gods be good, if this was the end, she wasn’t going to die fighting Aegon.

Sena directed Vermithor for one more wild snatch, letting Aegon become complacent and arrogant, as he was wont to do. He was a lazy swordsman, and even bearing Blackfyre, he could not make up for the fact that his next move shone on his face like a lit beacon in winter snow. The same principle seemed to carry over into his dragonriding. Sena and Vermithor came around on Sunfyre and Aegon one more time, and, at the most logical moment for the larger dragon to dip and lunge, she screamed “Navemanon!” into the wind. Vermithor hesitated - it was not a Valyrian command, not even a word in their tongue, but it sounded enough like it to Aegon and it worked beautifully, because whilst her dragon was confused and trying to work out what she wanted him to do, Aegon turned his entire head to the right. There. “Nābēmagon, Vermithor! Paktot!” Attack, Vermithor! Right! And as Aegon feinted right to dodge the first, false attack, Vermithor lunged with him and clamped his teeth down into Sunfyre’s wing.

The scream from the golden dragon was piercing, and it was all Sena could do not to let go to cover her ears. Vermithor gave one good shake of his head, shredding the membranes of Sunfyre’s wing, and the King’s dragon screamed, spewing flames back at Vermithor. But Vermithor was too large, his scales too thick, and with a sharp “Dracarys!” from Sena, he caught the King’s dragon in a blast of his own flame. Sunfyre roared and began to wheel desperately in circles, only born aloft on one good wing. Sena commanded Vermithor to bank so they could take a final swipe and be done with Aegon for the time being, but there was no need, as the King’s dragon was falling from the sky at speed.

That was when she caught sight of Vhagar raking her claws down Meleys’s back in the distance. There was an almighty roar from the Red Queen as steaming blood began to spurt from the wound. “No! No!” Sena screamed. Aemond would not add another dragon or another Targaryen to his headcount. Vermithor sharply banked towards Vhagar, nearly colliding midair with Meleys who was reeling in descending loops, fighting to stay airborne. To deal so much damage to such an experienced dragon so quickly… Aemond was either letting Vhagar wreak carnage as she saw fit or he was the greatest dragonrider in a century. Sena found herself not wanting to know the answer.

She spotted Rhaenys on Meleys’s back - shaken but unharmed - and commanded Vermithor around, determined to keep Vhagar’s attention away from the failing Meleys. Vhagar seemed to have the same notion, deciding to deal with the fitter prey before finishing off the weakened one. As the two mighty dragons set on a collision course towards each other, Sena felt her blood run cold as she thought of Luke, and whether Aemond had any control of the ancient beast right now.

Sena threw herself flat against Vermithor’s back, bracing for impact, letting free a wild howl as the dragons came closer and closer. And then, Vhagar feinted left, and the force of the wind from her wingbeat would have knocked Sena clean from her saddle if she had not been chained down. The message from Aemond was clear. Stand down.

Vhagar followed a long arc downwards to where Meleys was reeling, pulling up at just the right second to catch the Red Queen’s neck in her maw. Claret blood spurted and steamed as the Red Queen gave a feeble shudder. It was too late by the time Sena brought Vermithor round and slammed down onto Vhagar. It knocked all three dragons - two living, one in the final throes of a bloody end - the last thirty feet to the ground. Vermithor and Vhagar hit the ground with enough force to knock every soldier within a league on his back. A wave of searing pain and nausea hit Sena as her head whipped off of Vermithor’s hard-scaled back, her nose burst with blood and her vision swam out of focus.

“Fuck,” was all she could manage, and Vermithor was furious at her handling of him. He roared and swung his weight in an attempt to throw her from his back, but her chains held her down. He then moved as though to roll with her still on his back, crushing her beneath his weight, and Sena’s stomach lurched, desperately pulling at the chains on her belt.

At the last second, she unhooked her entire sword belt, wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword and threw herself from dragonback.

She hit the ground hard, and Vermithor screeched once more. Her head swam as she staggered to her feet, desperately trying to drag air back into her lungs, terrified the dragon would round on her once more. But instead, free of his rider, Vermithor took his chance and rose to the sky again.

“Well, fuck you then!” She screamed after him and attempted to staunch the blood flowing into her mouth with her glove. She stood there on the field, a wide circle cleared around her where her dragon had fell, sword in hand and watching her dragon retreat West. She was utterly alone in a field of green soldiers who were staggering to their feet, watching her, waiting for orders. She was truly fucked now. Meleys was down, twitching in her last throes of death, and Sena could see no sign of Rhaenys. Sunfyre and Vhagar were down too, the former seemingly for good, the latter only dazed, somewhere on the field behind her. Sena turned to watch Vermithor’s retreating form in the sky and groaned in frustration. Vhagar would be free to torch the entire town now once she regained the air-

“Back,” snapped a commanding voice. “I’ll deal with her myself.”

Sena spun around and her heart lurched in her chest. Aegon’s troops had fallen back from her at the sharp command, Vhagar was watching her from across the field with beacon-like eyes and her rider… Aemond stood before her, sword drawn, clad in armour from head to foot. He raised the corner of his mouth in his soft smile. “Pure ingratitude,” he said, nodding at Vermithor. “Most men would kill to have you all to themselves.”

She swallowed around a lump in her throat. “I don’t know about most men,” she said and her voice was barely a croak.

“Fine, maybe I meant I would kill to have you to myself,” he said.

It was a poor choice of words and her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. Her blood surged rebelliously in her veins. “You’ve killed for less.”

His expression faltered. “I have,” he said wearily, shamefully. “Lay down your sword and I’ll get a maester. Your nose needs seeing to.”

She clutched her sword tighter. “I can’t.”

He shook his head at her, looking tired. “Stop fighting,” he told her. “Please. Let me take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” She asked, her voice trembling. “You killed Luke, Aemond. And Grey Ghost-“

“I thought I had killed you.” he said, his own voice shaking, drawing closer to her. His eye was glossy. “When I watched you fall, I thought I would die with you.”

She clenched her jaw and raised her sword as he tried to approach her. She kept him at arm’s distance with the point of her blade.

He let the point of the blade catch on the centre of his chest. Met her eyes with a beseeching look. “Give up this folly, my lady. Come back to King’s Landing, come home and marry me.”

“You’re betrothed,” she bit out, and that was another part of this that stung like hell.

He shook his head in disbelief. “There’s not a woman in the world I would not spurn, not an oath I would not break for you. How can you not know that by now?”

Her eyes were swimming with tears, her knuckles gone white from how hard she was grasping her sword. “Give up everything I believe in? Give up my Queen, my sisters, my brothers, to come stand silent at your side and bear your sons? No, Aemond. No.”

He held his expression carefully blank, though she could see the bob of his throat. “You would not be you if you were so easily swayed,” he said, “but to hear you reject me so plainly, reject us and our children… it hurts more than I thought it would.”

Everything in her was shaking. She needed to end this now, before she went weak. Before she folded. Before she succumbed and pulled him into her arms.“I can’t let you take this town without a fight, Aemond. I owe it to my family, to everyone your army will put to the sword.” Her voice was shaking. She wrapped both hands around the hilt of her sword, the point still resting against his armour.

“I understand that, Sena.”

Sena. Her name from his lips had haunted her dreams since all this began.

A breeze picked up behind him and his long hair blustered around his face. Leather, brimstone, rosemary filled her senses.

“Why did the gods make me love you, Aemond?” She asked, her voice shaking.

He smiled a sad smile as he stepped back and raised his sword. A tear rolled freely down Sena’s cheek. “Because they made me for you.”

Their swords clashed between them and at long last, they danced.

They knew this dance well, knew each other well, and it showed in each parried blow, each perfectly timed deflection and dodge. Aemond’s bare steel swung through the air on a counter and she met it with a sharp ringing sound, throwing his strength back at him and slashing with a backswing. He stepped backwards, grimacing as a few strands of silver hair were cut loose from his head, and looked at her with fire in his pretty eye. “You’re going to have to do better than giving me a haircut, issa jorrāelagon.” Sena’s heart seized. My love.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped and swung at him again.

Time and time again, her strikes fell. And time and time again, he batted them away like he was swatting flies, but never advanced on her. She grew frustrated, grew furious and howled with rage as she swung at him again. He caught the blade inches from his shoulder and deflected it, sending a sharp glare at her, but she did not care, swinging her arms back up again-

It was Ser Criston that caught the next blow, approaching from the side. She’d been so focused on Aemond, she did not even see him approach. Neither did Aemond, his mentor coming at them from his blind side, and he flinched away from the ring of their steel meeting.

“Stand down, my lady,” Ser Criston Cole commanded her sharply. “We have you surrounded. There is no way out.”

But Sena was too angry. Seething at the thought of it all. Luke, Aegon, Jaehaerys, her father, all of it, all she wanted to do was win, just this one time. She struck out one final, savage blow at Aemond, but it was sloppy, made in anger and exhaustion. He side-stepped her easily and pulled her back sharply towards his chest with an arm around her middle.

Ser Criston Cole knocked her hard against the head with his armoured elbow and the scorched field tilted out of focus.

Her vision spotted, her stomach rolled. The ground did not so much rush up to meet her as she was lowered to it. She thought she heard Aemond - her Aemond - murmuring in her ear. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay. Look at me. You’re okay.” She couldn’t be sure.

But she did feel cold shackles closing around her wrists, and a murmured “Apologies, my lady,” from a misshapen blob that looked like Ser Criston Cole.

Then, there was something sweet on her tongue, and the world went black.

taglist (dm/ask/reply to be added): @stargaryenx @trap-house-homiecide

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd #tqc #aemond targaryen fanfic

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jungw8ns · 3 years

Text

GOING TO AN ESCAPE ROOM WITH ENHYPEN !

PAIRING: boyfriend!enha x gn!reader. GENRE: established relationship, fluff, crack. WARNINGS: profanity (not that much tho), mentions of death (?). WORD COUNT: 100 - 200 each member.

HEESEUNG:

the two of you were so pumped playing an escape room together for the first time that the other people in line had to calm you guys down (which was trully embarrassing to say the least 🤐🤐)

he was looking at the ranking board filled with pictures of players that had succeeded in the shortest amount of time and he just wanted nothing more than to see both your faces on there

but anyways, we all know how competitive heeseung gets 🕴️

oh boy let me tell you, this guy WAS SPEEDRUNNING IT but not the kind you were thinking

the second the timer had started he was literally SPRINTING AROUND THE ROOM LOOKING FOR CLUES YET COMPLETELY MISSING THEM 🏃‍♂️💨💨💨

while he was busy running around, you were picking up the little details in the room and in no time managed to open a few locks

"y/n look i found– oh 😐😑😐"

HE WAS SULKING PLSSS 😭😭😭

when you noticed him standing from afar staring at you with his arms crossed, you called him to solve this one puzzle you already did

*gasps* "oh no! babe i don't understand how to do this, please help me 😔😔🤥🙏🙏"

he had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from letting out that cocky grin but it got out eventually

"oh it's so easy sweetheart, just put this here and then voila! 😉"

when the two of you escaped you suprisingly got to take a polaroid with him home after ranking 2nd in the records

heeseung was the one who held onto it tho, placing it underneath his clear phonecase for safekeeping <3

JAY:

GOD THIS DUDE

THE ESCAPE ROOM WASN'T EVEN THAT SCARY AND YET EVERYTIME YOU GUYS OPEN A LOCK OR A DOOR HIS FIGHT OR FLIGHT INSTINCTS COME UP 😭😭👊👊

"y/n stay behind me >:(("

"um, babe, you do realize that's just a door right?"

"WE'LL BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY?? THE STAFF COULD'VE PROGRAMMED IT TO GROW LEGS?? 😵🧐🧐"

you knew you shouldn't have played horror games with him a few nights ago cause he looked like he was about to lose his mind 😔

you had to shove his ass aside and move on to the next mission cause the both of you knew that he was stalling 🏌️‍♀️

jay was being extra clingy the whole time you were playing, he'd either link arms with you or hold hands (he's literally so adorable) 💞💞

BUT THEN YOU THOUGHT OF DOING A PRANK ON HIM

while you were roaming around the room trying to solve a puzzle, you saw this horse mask on a nearby table

and so you made sure jay was distracted and put on the mask

you could've NOT worn the dusty old thing but where was the fun in that?

"jay can you come here for a sec?"

you hid behind the wall beside the door frame waiting for him to come into your sight and attacked him

now, how about we guess what happens next?

a. he faints

b. he runs away

or c. he slaps you in the face and forces you to buy him food for the rest of the night

if you guessed c then YAY! YOU'RE CORRECT 🥳🎉🎉🎊

THIS HOE SLAPS YOU AS HE SHOULD

"$##/@+(+'£%(:?!!)&£**/*%@"

when he finally takes off the mask like those scenes in scooby doo he's never felt so betrayed in his life

"i- I TRUSTED YOU 😭😭😭 YOU BETTER BUY ME FOOD LATER, I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS, THE BETRAYAL???? LITERALLY UNPROVOKED?????"

he wouldn't stop side eyeing you until you guys finally pulled up on the mcdonalds drive thru

"hi, can i get two um– bts meals please? 😒😒 and two oreo mc flurries 🙄🙄 and also large fries 😐😐"

sane (1/3)

would be trailing behind you like a little puppy (i love him so much 😭😭😭)

he either has his arm linked with yours or held hands every five minutes

JAKE:

really focused on the puzzles he's doing but the second he hears you call out his name for help he's there beside you with the sweetest smile

but anyways, mans was POPPING OFF the entire time you were playing

he was solving problem after problem in no time (he wanted to impress you is why he activated his inner flash ⚡⚡) but he did let you play tho, the last thing he wanted to do was make you pissed at him for hogging all the games

def buried jake with compliments and forehead kisses right after ❤️__❤️

and so the two of you got out in like an hour and a few which you were very proud of

"you were so cool today babe, good job !!"

"aww thank you angel 😊😊"

sane (2/3)

SUNGHOON:

would be linking pinkies with you the whole time, only letting go whenever the both of you had to solve something that needed two or more people

there was this one game tho where he had to arm wrestle this literal hand lever to open the door to the last room (yea...don’t ask why, the staffs were pretty weird 😬😬)

it made him enjoy the experience a bit more as it was only the two of you playing instead of getting accompanied by strangers

HGAWAHSGDHSGHDA PLSS THIS GUY

“oh this’ll be easy, y/n step aside, i’ll handle this 😏😏😏”

idk if you were supposed to think about how handsome he looked with his serious expression on and his veiny hands coming into frame or be worried for him because the lever was REAL HARD to pull that his veins looked like they were going to pop any second soon, you stepped in and helped him tho cause you were a good s/o <3

from a spectators point of view, the two of you looked like y’all were about shit your pants but the two of you eventually succeeded on beating it, immediately dragging him to the next room which had a sofa in it, laying down to catch your breaths

cliché moment ahead ⚠️⚠️

the two of you shared a few laughs before standing up on the empty space, held hands and started to jump in circles to celebrate your success 💃💃

yupp, y’all were never going back to that hellhole again

very stubborn at first, he wanted nothing to do with the game but then you held him at gunpoint by saying:

SUNOO:

"please just this once or else i'll revoke your mint choco ice cream rights 🔫🔫🔫"

"BUT IT'S SCARY IN THERE BABE :((("

"it won't be that scary sunshine, besides, i'll be ready to 🤜💥 yk?? trust me babe i would never let anyone hurt you <33"

kinda pissed since you blackmailed him into the place and also bc he wanted to play bumper cars and dance mania but he yea he caved in pretty quick 😋😋

(y/n let him play his games in peace tf >:(((( )

once you guys got in tho he realized how normal it was and that it was not terrifying at all

THE EPITOME OF CLINGY OMFG

he wouldn't stop back hugging you and you couldn't bring yourself to push him away to play the games so you just let him walk behind you with his arms on your shoulders 😩😩

(y'all were walking kinda funny but don't tell sunoo that 🤫🤫🤫)

yea the two of you ended up escaping with a whopping 2 hours and a few minutes

but it was the effort that counts so A+++++ for the both if you 😜👍👍👍

sane (3/3)

JUNGWON:

was the one who suggested going, he even searched on naver about really good escape room places to visit and was overall really looking forward it

he liked going to places and having fun with you so it wasn't a shock how his eyes were literally crescents and his dimples were so evident

yea he literally rushed the both of you to the place that you were the first in line 😵

while waiting for the staff to finish setting up he was playing with your connected hands like 🖐️✊🖐️✊ (so precious 💞💞)

"y/n why are you taking so long 😭😭 what if they close and we end up not solving a single lock, hurry up por favorrr 😩🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏"

when they finally lead you to the room he was kind of surprised that they had separated the two of you into different spaces (like the one with txt where they had the answers to the other member's puzzles yk???)

he was locked inside a telephone stand while you were handcuffed in the main room

dw the two of you reunited after a few minutes cause jungwon was rushing his lock to get to you 🤭

you both were progressing at an average pace and it made you guys a lot more closer (not that you guys weren't before but you get what i mean)

after you guys escaped the two of you went to eat curry and talked about the whole experience 😋✌️✌️✌️

this boy literally dragged you in the escape room with him

NIKI:

HE DIDN'T EVEN GIVE YOU TIME TO REFUSE HE JUST 😐👉🚪

"ok masterchefs, in order to test your abilities we must go through series of puzzles and make it out alive, understood?"

he tried ignoring how confused you were and went on to try and get you guys to escape

HE'S LAUGHING AT YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON AND OBV YOU LAUGH ASWELL CAUSE WHO WOULDN'T??? his laugh is so contagious pls 🤖🤖 he was so close to d wording cause he couldn't breathe from laughing too much

yea.. you guys spent so much time laughing at each other for being so dumb at this that you ended up playing 'till closing time

spoiler alert: he fails on doing anything cause the second you made eye contact with him this child collapses 😍🤩

GIRL SO EMBARRASSING 🤡🤡

THE STAFF KICKED THE BOTH OF YOU OUT AND NOW YOU GUYS WERE BANNED FROM THE PLACE ☠️☠️

"haunted house next weekend???"

"BET"

NOTE – god they were WAY funnier in my head but yeah.... i love them so much AND OMFG HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN HEESEUNG’S SELCAS LAST NIGHT???!?@??#?@?!?@ HE’S NOT REAL WTF ⁉️❓❓⁉️

also, idk why BUT EVERY TIME I SAVE A DRAFT the paragraphs get scrambled?? £!?) 6=6) 🤣😂💔💔🤣🤣😂💔 it's so annoying but anyways, ilysm pls stay safe and have a great day <33

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x gender neutral reader #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #jungw8ns

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wittyrosebush · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP Reacting to a Witch!Hybrid

Pronouns: they/them

Includes: Dream, Quackity, Wilbur, qnd Tommy (PLATONIC)

Warnings: Meantion of drugs, swearing

A/N: This is based off of the canon characters and is set in the time of the Pogtopia/Manburg war!!! I might write a second part if this goes well. Also, this is the first thing I have written for this fandom, so I hope I get the character personalities correct. This is not beta read, so please don't attack me on my poor grammar skills. 😅

I hope you all enjoy!!! 💙

Dream

He was mining when he first met you

Dream heard a malicious cackle on the dark side of the cave and slowly drew his sword

He decided to charge towards the strange noise and was quickly met with an invisible body under him

He furrowed his brows and felt the body shuffle out from under him

"BEGONE STRANGE MAN"

"... excuse me?"

After a moment, Y/N's potion has worn off

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"

Dream chuckled and put away his sword, deciding the person in front of him wasn't a threat

After Y/n calmed down, the two had a talk, explaining the situation

Turns out, you had thought of a joke while mining for redstone (hence the laughter)

"So where is your hat and huge nose? You are really attractive for a witch."

"Luckily, I got my attributes from my father. What was that last part?."

"Wait, what about your hat?"

"I haven't done laundry in a few days.... hold up did you just say I was attractive?"

Ever since then Dream has had you by his side partly because he is a little clingy creating potions for him and the rest of the dream team

"How do you feel about cursing children?"

"I'm not that kind of witch, Dream."

"But what if he was being a little blonde bitch?"

"DREAMWASTAKEN I SWEAR TO GOD-"

Loves bringing you stuff to use for your projects

Need blaze rods for a new brewing stand? Done.

Need lapis lazuli so you have a chance for better communication? Done.

Anything you want? Done.

He will literally go to the nether for a few hours and come back with his arms full of whatever you need

And if you don't need anything or just need to take a break, he'll spend the day taking you anywhere that he think you would be happiest

He has you make him a lot of potions, bragging to everyone on the server how much better at creating potions you are

"Y/n's potions last longer, are more effective, prettier-"

"Are you sure? I think-"

"Tell me what you think, I fuckin dare you >:( ."

Overall, he is your #1 supporter

Quackity

The day had been long, dealing with Schlatt definitely tires a guy out after 5 minutes

On his walk on the outskirts of the Manburg wall, he spotted a suspicious row of blaze powder leading to the woods

Dawning his armor and a sword, he followed the trail to a small hut

He could see the outline of someone in the hut nervously pacing around

Deciding what he thought was the best possible option, he knocked on the door of the hut

There was immediately the sound of glass bottles falling on the floor and muffled words

Soon, the door swung open to reveal a disheveled being with a nervous grin

And Quackity went from tough to awkward

"C-Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, do you waNT SOME DRUGS?"

"ExCuSe Me?!"

Everything was going to shit

After a moment of awkward staring, a glass bottle tumbled off the brewing stand

Upon focusing on what was going on behind the two people trying and failing to act normal, they both saw that every brewing stand was on fire

"ARE YOU ACTUALLY MAKING DRUGS?!"

"NO I'M JUST REALLY BAD AT THIS POTION."

Finally putting the fire out together, the two looked at their now soot stained clothes

The witch hybrid ran a hand through their hair and sighed

"Well this is completely ruined."

Quackity frowned a little hesitant to offer his help

"If you need to you could borrow some brewing stands-"

"Really? *-* "

On the walk back to Manburg, you explained who you were

Quackity was still a little confused

"Wait but what potion were you even brewing?"

"Fire resistance."

He immediately burst out laughing, which ended up with you slapping his arm repeatedly

Eventually, you two became the definition of the "friends to lovers" trope

You often helped him de-stress after stressful days in office with Schlatt

He'd try whatever you recommended

"I'd suggest putting quartz on your nightstand."

"Cool!"

Later that night, you forgot something at his house

Once you walked into his house, you could see stacks of quartz next to his bed.

He really trusted any advice you could give him

And on days where people would criticize you for being part witch?

Big Q will attack anyone

Even if he knows he will lose

And at random parts of the day he'll just tell you oddly inspirational thoughts

"You are a bad bitch, dare I say a bad witch. Own that shit."

"That is oddly motivational, thank you. :) "

Wilbur

The former president was strolling along the side of a river, trying to form a coherent plan of action

Upon noticing a person trudging out of the water fumbling with glass bottles, Wilbur jogged over to them and put a careful hand on their shoulder

"Are you okay?"

The person moved the soggy hat out of their face and smiled

"Yeah, I just fell in the water while trying to fill up some of the bottles, but thanks for checking on me!"

He hummed in response, wondering why he was already so interested in the being before him

"Well I should probably get going, but thank you!"

"Wait! What's you name?"

"It's Y/n, and you are..?"

"Wilbur Soot, it was an honor meeting you, Y/n."

This man spent the rest of the night thinking about you and who the hell you were

He didn't know much about the mysterious person, but he did know that they were one of the most alluring people he had met in a long time

It was weeks since he saw you, Wilbur nearly gave up searching

That was until you walked into him on a rainy day

The brunette immediately went in defensive position and pulled the stranger to his chest, despite the dampened clothes

"Um, Mr. Soot?"

He looked down to see you and his face lit up

"Y/n! It's a pleasure to see you again."

He took a small step back and kissed your hand

No one can convince me that Wilbur "Gentleman" Soot does not flirt by giving hand kisses

The two went into Pogtopia and Wilbur almost immediately wrapped his coat around you

"What were you doing out there? The rain is coming down so hard you must not have been able to see well."

"I was going to ask if I could borrow a few golden carrots for a potion I'm making."

Wilbur nodded and walked towards the stared and whisper shouted down

"TOMMY BRING ME SOME GOLDEN CARROTS!"

"BUT WILBUR, I-"

"PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME LOOK BAD IN FRONT OF THE STUNNING WITCH!"

The boy at the bottom of the stairs grumbled and the tall man sat next to you once more

After a few minutes of Wilbur fawning over everything you did, a blonde male walked up the steps and glared at Wilbur as he handed you the carrots

"Simp..."

Wilbur dramatically gasped as you chuckled next to him

You eventually started coming over to Pogtopia practically every day

Most of the time it was to see Wilbur, but the rest of your time was spent creating potions for the war

As the nation grew, you were brought out of your shell more with Wilbur introducing you to everyone

He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable in a new place

You often walked along the same riverbank where you met

You have definitely pushed each other off a few times

He keeps small things that you enjoy on him at all times

He keeps a tiny bottle of sand from the river you met at, a piece of your old robe, and so much more in his pockets

Whenever he feels like he's in a dark place or justneeds to ground himself he takes out one of the items and just holds it close.

Mans is so in love

Tommy

He met you in the nether while you were farming netherwart

The blonde was thrilled to find a new fortress and decided to raid it before reinforcements came

Seeing a sleeping figure next to a bed of sould sand, he took a few congident steps forward

Once close enough, he poked you with the stick

"You good?"

"I was good when I was asleep."

"AYE I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD SO-"

After arguing for what felt like hours, you both stormed off to find both exits being blocked by wither skeletons

Tommy had gotten beaten up pretty bad after the fight so you took him back to your hut to get all patched up

"I didn't even need your help. I'm tougher than I look."

"You legitimately passed out twice on the way here."

"HOW DARE YOU, I WAS RESTING MY EYES!"

After a few hours of healing and a ton of laighter, you two became the most chaotic duo in the smp

This british raccoon child would often steal small potions to pull pranks

But unless they were really important and you needed them back, you'd always join in on the pranks

He tried to get you to make a potion using the 'Tubbo Bath Water' one time

It did not end well

At the point in your friendship where you revealed you were a hybrid, Tommy was so confused

"That makes no sense, witches are still humans, right?"

"Yeah..?"

"So how does that make you a hybrid?"

👁👄👁

"Listen here you little shit-"

He likes to show you off to anyone that can listen

"You think you're special? HA! I have a best friend that is part witch and they will kick your ass. >:)"

He is really interested in everything you do but will never ask

But if you tell him about what you're doing unprovoked?

Tommy would get so happy

He is so excited to learn what you have to teach and would be one of the best friends ever

#dream smp x reader #tommyinnit & reader #wilbur x y/n #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #quackity x reader #dream x you #dream x reader #dream x y/n

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scarlet-streak-fanfics · 2 years

Note

Could I get some fluffy reader x Papyrus (platonic) if you’re up for it?

Hello! Sorry for the hiatus. I had a bit of a collapse for the last week. Lena, you gave me the perfect opportunity to post one of my reader inserts for my Undertale AU--HackedTale! I hope you enjoy it. <3

You’ve lived in the city near the base of Mount Ebott for almost three years now, having moved there after finishing your studies. You had majored in Botany, and heard that there was something strange about the plants around the mountain itself, so you had decided that it might be an interesting place to start your career. You obtained permission to study the local flora, but had yet to find anything truly out of the ordinary. After a few months of finding nothing, you had to pick up a series of part-time jobs to allow you to pay the rent on your apartment. On the weekends, however, you continued your search for anything unusual, not ready to give up on finding proof behind the rumors that had led you there. Your searches always seemed to bring you back to two places: a cave-in in the side of the mountain, and a tunnel at the end of a trail up near the peak. The hole seemed to go down for miles, with a barely visible patch of flowers at the bottom, which you still hadn’t worked up the courage to find a way to investigate. The tunnel, however, was something you’d never felt the need to explore; it just felt wrong, and the air around it was strange, almost as if it was full of static. Standing too close to it caused the hairs on your arms and neck to stand up straight, and it was unusually silent. The view, though, was incomparable, especially when it came to watching the sunset.

However, everything changed almost two months ago, when the monsters emerged from that very same tunnel and settled down outside the city. Their existence had been a legend in the area, spanning back generations to before the founding of the city. But something seemed wrong. Their mood was not that of those who’d recently escaped captivity, but of mourners arriving at a funeral, and many of them had bloodstains on their limbs and clothes. The monsters refused to explain how they escaped, or where the stains came from. Their king, Asgore, begged for them to be allowed to grieve before they told their story. That didn’t stop the speculations, though. You heard stories ranging from cannibalism to human sacrifice, but none seemed to fit with your opinion of the monsters. They were kind and gentle, many of them still too afraid of humans to venture into the city. Mettaton, who seemed to be a star of some sorts among the monsters, had been instrumental in the attempts to incorporate monsters into human society, handling interviews and PR while the king recovered from whatever had happened during the years spent underground. However, even with all his charisma and confidence, certain questions still seemed to make Mettaton’s ever-present smile turn forced. He made vague statements about a friend who they’d lost while gaining their freedom. The mystery continued, until one of your visits to the mountainside led you to a strange discovery: A small pile of rocks, placed to make a crude statue of a child. An umbrella had been placed over it, and bundles of flowers were at its feet. They were like nothing you’d ever seen before, completely blue and phosphorescent with 6 petals. The strangest thing, however, wasn’t the glow. It was the voices that seemed to come from them. It was barely audible, just murmurs of static interspersed with pieces of phrases: “So sorry…” “I miss…” “Failed you…” “Please forgive...” “Never should have…” “Make things right…”

The flowers were replaced by fresh blooms some time between Saturday and Sunday, and each week there seemed to be more flowers, each with new messages to accompany the older ones. About 5 weeks after this began, you finally decided to keep watch one night to find out who was leaving them. Hiding behind the bushes near the statue, you sat patiently, anticipation growing as the sun inched its way down below the horizon.

The sky is completely dark now, save for the stars and moon. You’ve been sitting on the cold ground for what feels like ages, and you almost decided to stand up and stretch when you hear the sounds of faint, hushed voices coming from down the path. “Do you have the echoflowers?”

“Of course I do, Tori. They’re still in the bag. See? You can see the glow.”

“Of course. I was just checking.” To your surprise, the voices belong to Asgore Dreemurr, the king of monsters, and his ex-wife, Toriel. Her head is bowed slightly, her gaze trained intently on her feet. “Thank you for accompanying me this time.”

“No thanks is necessary. I happen to have something to say as well.” Asgore opens the bag he’d brought with him. Inside are the flowers that you’d been finding, even more brilliant in their currently unwilted state. What had she called them, again?

You’re startled out of your thoughts as Toriel carefully takes one of the flowers out of the bag and begins to speak. “My child… I have so much to say, but no words to say it with. I still cannot believe you are really gone. It seems like only yesterday we were sitting in my kitchen eating Cinnamon Butterscotch pie.” She laughs, her voice shaking as she wipes the corners of her eyes. You notice that Asgore has turned his back to Toriel and the statue, as if trying to give them a moment alone, and you immediately realize that you are eavesdropping on something that is probably incredibly private. “I wish-- I wish I had not let you go. We all could have escaped this nightmare if I’d been able to convince you to stay. It would have given Sans a chance to figure out how to fix everything without--” Her voice breaks, and Toriel stops for a moment. You can see the struggle on her face to regain her composure. “The pain you must have felt… I cannot imagine it. And, even through all of it you kept smiling. You would not let us give up, even when you were staring death in the face, and now you are free. Free from the pain, free from the bonds of the code, and free from us. Rest well, my little one.” She places her flower at the base of the statue, and you can hear her message repeat itself. It’s safe to say that you are more than a little confused, but you have no time to reflect on your new information as Asgore lifts up a flower of his own, still facing away from the statue. “I suppose it’s my turn now, isn’t it?”

He turns, his steps towards the statue slow and reluctant. When he finally reaches it, he kneels down, eyes trained on the flower. “Child. I want-- no, need to apologize for everything I put you through. I can’t even imagine how you have suffered at my hand. I wanted to make things right, only to realize that I would have to give you your final death while everyone looked on. That feeling of helplessness…” He shakes his head, as if trying to dislodge the memory from his head. “ I am so sorry. Your pain has ended now. I just wish it hadn’t had to go this way. I wish we could have taken you up to the surface with--” You hear more voices making their way up the mountain, and Asgore drops his flower. “I should go, before the rest of them come up here.” He stands up, walking quickly past Toriel and down the path. Toriel shakes her head, and speaks, partially to herself and partially to the statue, “He wants to take all the blame for himself. Everyone does.”

With that, she also departs, and moments later a new pair arrives: Undyne, the captain of the royal guard, and Alphys, the royal scientist. You recognized them from seeing them on tv at the press conferences Asgore had been forced to attend when the monsters had first arrived. They’ve only brought one flower, which Alphys holds carefully with both hands. They stop about a foot away from the statue. “Hey, Frisk,” says Undyne, “it’s been a while. Alphys finally made me come up here too…” She stops, shaking her head. “This is stupid, Al. You said it was going to help.” Alphys shifts the flower over to one hand, and puts the other on Undyne’s shoulder. “Y-you have to finish talking. That’s w-when it starts to help. T-trust me.”

“What if I don’t know what to say?”

“It w-will come to you. Just start t-talking.” Undyne nods, then starts again. “Kid, not having you with us… it sucks. Maybe no one wants to acknowledge it, but it’s true. Every sunrise and sunset makes us think of you, and how much better they’d be if you got to see them too. Everyone blames themselves. We haven’t seen Sans or that stupid flower in weeks. Papyrus says they’re working on a way to bring you back, but I don’t think that’s how it works. Speaking of Papyrus, the poor guy’s heartbroken. He can’t even train, because every attack he summons reminds him of your fight. Heck, I still can’t look at my own spears the same way. I trained to kill humans my whole life, but…” Her voice trails off, and Undyne shakes her head. After a few moments of silence, Alphys says, “W-what she means is that we r-really miss you, Frisk, and we’re s-sorry that we couldn’t p-protect you.”

“Yeah. What she said.” They place the flower down together, and begin the long walk back down the mountain. As they leave, you faintly hear Undyne say, “You were right, Al. I do feel better.” The conversation continues, but they’re too far away for you to hear any of the words. Less than a minute later, another pair of monsters comes to leave a message, then another, each one giving you a new piece of the puzzle, and you begin to understand why they were reluctant to share the details of their escape. The final piece of information comes from a skeleton monster in an old blue hoodie, basketball shorts, and pink slippers, and a yellow flower whose roots are wrapped around the skeleton’s arm. They didn’t bring one of the blue flowers with them. The skeleton sits down in front of the statue, careful not to crush any of the blue flowers. “hey, kid. just wanted to tell you i’ve finally done it. i’ve found a way to put you back together. i think i can find the pieces of your code in the save files. of course, it’s going to take me a while, and i can’t promise that it’ll work, but it can’t hurt to try, right? anything is better than where we are now. papyrus can’t even look me in the eyes, not that i can blame him, of course. maybe now i can finally do something right.”

As he sits in silence, you realize that this must be Sans, the person mentioned by both Toriel and Undyne. To your surprise, the golden flower on his shoulder begins to speak. “Sans, we’re both to blame here. If I hadn’t--” Sans interrupts him, his voice bitter. “that’s the thing, though. you aren’t to blame. it was my brilliant idea to mess with the foundations of our world, and the rest of you had to deal with the consequences. i killed her, flowey. sure, it was asgore who actually landed the final blow, but she was dead the minute she woke up in the ruins.”

Flowey shakes his head in exasperation. “Look, let’s not focus whose hands her blood is on. Let’s just go back and get ready to go into the code. You know Papyrus will want to see you before you go.” Sans nods and pushes himself up to his feet. “yeah. i should go see all of them. but let’s keep the plan between us. don’t want to get their hopes up.”

Sans walks back down the mountain path, leaving you to your confused thoughts. After almost an hour of waiting, it seems that no one else is coming up the path after Sans and Flowey leave. You almost decide to start the walk back down to your car, when the sound of footsteps cuts through the silence. It’s another skeleton, much taller than Sans, wearing an orange sweater, patchwork jeans, a red scarf, yellow mittens, and red rain boots. He approaches the statue reluctantly, one of the blue flowers held tightly in his gloved hands. “HUMAN. I MEAN, FRISK. IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” His voice quavers slightly with each word, as if he was a child trying to hold back tears. Despite this, he has a gigantic smile plastered across his face. “I AM SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO VISIT. I JUST NEEDED SOME TIME TO…” Papyrus stops, his mouth opening and closing as he searches for the words. “THINK. YES. I NEEDED TIME TO THINK. ABOUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN THE UNDERGROUND. I WANTED TO APOLOGIZE. MY FRIEND--” He drops his flower, falling to his knees as his shoulders sag forward. “I’M SORRY. I PROMISED YOU THAT I WOULD PROTECT YOU, AND I FAILED. NO WONDER UNDYNE WILL NEVER LET ME INTO THE ROYAL GUARD. I COULDN’T EVEN SAVE ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS…” If not for the tone of his voice and look on his face, you might have laughed. Unfortunately for you, however, you feel a sneeze building up, and, despite your best efforts, it soon rings out in the quiet night air. Papyrus’s head immediately whips to face in your direction, and you’re surprised to see tears rolling down his face. He hastily wipes his face and stands up, summoning a bone attack as he looks around the mountainside warily. “WHO’S THERE? I MUST WARN YOU, I HAVE BEEN TRAINED BY THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD!” You stand up from your hiding spot and hold your hands up in a placating gesture. “Hey, let’s just put the attacks away.”

It’s probably the lamest line of diplomacy ever used, but in your defense it is very late. Papyrus’s shoulders relax, and his attack dissipates. “JUST A HUMAN.” He suddenly looks very uncomfortable, and asks hesitantly, “HOW MUCH DID YOU HEAR?”

“Honestly, more that I was supposed to. I just wanted to find out what these flowers were.” As the realization that you’ve been watching these people’s private moments of grief finally registers, you begin to feel horrible. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Papyrus looks at the ground. “THANK YOU. I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND THAT YOU AREN’T REALLY SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED.”

“Yeah. I’m not usually an eavesdropper. Just sort of got stuck here after people started coming.” Your words just feel like flimsy excuses to you, but Papyrus seems to accept them. There’s an awkward silence as the two of you just stand and look at each other. Finally, you hold out your hand. “I’m (Y/N).” He takes your hand, giving it a firm shake. “I AM PAPYRUS, ROYAL GUARDSMAN IN TRAINING.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Papyrus.” You desperately try to think of something to say that won’t make the situation any worse. “Why did you come out here so late? Everyone else was here over an hour ago.”

“I DIDN’T WANT ANYONE TO SEE ME, BUT OBVIOUSLY MY EFFORTS WERE IN VAIN.” You have to force yourself not to laugh at his dramatic wording. “That makes sense. I don’t like crying in front of people either.”

“I WASN’T CRYING!” There are still tears rolling down the skeleton’s face. “WELL, MAYBE I WAS CRYING A LITTLE.” His admission is reluctant, and you decide not to press the matter. “If you were, it would be completely understandable.”

“OF COURSE! IT’S AN EMOTIONAL SUBJECT.” He wipes his eyes, and you pretend not to notice. “Well, I think maybe I should leave. It’s late. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”

Papyrus hesitates. “MAYBE I SHOULD WALK YOU BACK DOWN. IT’S VERY DARK, AND I DON’T WANT YOU TO FALL.” It takes a moment, but you realize that he doesn’t want to be left alone. “I would definitely feel safer with a Royal Guard in training with me.”

He puffs up slightly, and the fact that you’ve managed to cheer him up assuages your guilt over your accidental spying. The two of you begin the walk down the mountain path, and another thought crosses your mind. “How did you get here? I think I would’ve heard a car.”

“I WALKED!” You frown. “Really?”

“WELL, NONE OF US HAVE CARS YET, BUT IT IS MY DREAM TO HAVE MY OWN CAR!” The visible excitement on his face bring a smile to your face. “NOT THAT ANYONE WOULD SELL ME ONE.” This catches you off guard. “What do you mean?”

Papyrus’s tone is wistful as he says, “MANY HUMAN BUSINESSES ARE RELUCTANT TO HIRE OR SELL TO MONSTERS, AND YOUR GOVERNMENT STILL HASN’T COME UP WITH A WAY FOR US TO OBTAIN A DRIVER’S LICENSE. NO MONEY, NO LICENSE, NO CAR.”

“You’d think we’d have adjusted by now.”

“YOUR PEOPLE STILL DON’T TRUST US. SANS GAVE ME A WORD FOR IT A FEW WEEKS AGO. I BELIEVE IT STARTED WITH A Z?”

“Xenophobia?”

“YES, THAT’S THE ONE. A FEAR OF PEOPLE WHO ARE DIFFERENT.” You nods. “Sounds about right.”

The two of you finally reach your car, and you turn to Papyrus. “Do you, uh, want a ride or something? I don’t like the idea of anyone walking by themselves on the roads this late.” Really, you still feel guilty about your eavesdropping and are looking for a way to make up for it. “THANK YOU FOR THE OFFER, (Y/N), BUT I HAVE TO DECLINE. NEW NEW HOME IS ONLY A MILE OR SO FROM HERE, AND IT’S IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION FROM THE CITY.”

“Alright. Well, if you ever find yourself in the city around lunch time, look up Ebott City Diner. They’re monster-friendly, and if it’s during my shift I’ll pay for your meal.” Papyrus nods. “I MIGHT TAKE YOU UP ON THAT SOME TIME. GOOD NIGHT, (Y/N).”

“Good night, Papyrus.” You watch him walk away into the darkness before finally getting into your car and starting the drive home. As you drive down the dark, winding road into the city, you think about all that you learned that night. The speeches you’d heard from all of the monsters had outlined the story of something awful that had happened below the surface, but it had been something out of their control. However, even knowing that their participation was far from willing, you understand why they’re keeping it a secret. Most humans are afraid of monsters based on their appearance alone. If they found out that the monsters’ freedom had been gained through murder, it would make it even more difficult for humans to accept monsters. But, putting all that aside, you really do hope that Papyrus would accept your offer of an apology meal.

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lyrabythelake · 3 years

Text

Stick Together

Legend is lost, and so very alone.

Read on AO3

CW: gore, mentions of death, just a shed-load of Legend angst

No birds sing in these woods.

It’s the thing that stands out most to Legend as he stumbles his way over fallen branches and rotting logs he cannot see, for the fog swallows his legs and the foreparts of his arms he stretches blindly out in front of him. There are no twittered conversations or scuffling of small creatures, no trickling nearby streams or even rustling leaves.

Just complete, all-consuming silence.

It’s the kind of silence that sits heavy in his chest and threatens to choke him, the kind that reminds him every second that he could not be more alone.

It’s not how it’s meant to be, he thinks desperately. Woods are places where life and nature thrives, but the trees that emerge from this ghastly fog are withered and decaying, twisting shells of what they once were. Or perhaps they have always been like this. There is no life in this place; it is a graveyard for the lost, one that threatens to bury him alongside all those who were unfortunate enough to die here, so very alone.

“Time!?” he calls, but it is half-hearted at best, his voice long hoarse from hours spent shouting the same eight names in futile hope that one of them will hear. The sound falls pitifully short, consumed by the banks of white swirling mist that cave in on all sides. He sounds small and frightened, incredibly pathetic, but he would give anything for someone, anyone to hear him.

How long has it been? he wonders. Time loses all meaning when the world around him provides no landmarks but the homogenous, gnarled faces of those mangled, warped trees that stare down at him every few steps. Time doesn’t flow in the same way when one is staring into that infinite abyss of swirling white.

His feet ache fiercely, but he cannot stop. He entered this place, so there must be an exit, there must. His mouth is so, incredibly dry and his stomach aches with hunger, his legs are weak and his ankles are splintering with pain from turning over on the uneven floor, but still he blunders forward. He has no way of knowing in which direction he is heading, every turn of his head is disorientating, every trip of his feet he is left wondering if he has just been going in circles all this time.

He has never been good at following orders, he’ll admit. Perhaps it is not so surprising that eventually it was the thing that brought his downfall.

“Stick together,” Wild had said, “and whatever you do, don’t stray from the path. This place is called the Lost Woods for a reason.”

Simple really, but the Captain had been on top form that day (is it the same day or have weeks passed without him knowing?) and after a jab that hit particularly close to home, he had stormed off in a fit of prideful rage.

None of that anger remains now, all that is left is clawing desperation and uncontrollable terror. There have been many times in his life where he thought he might die, when he had accepted that he may be nearing his last few moments in this world, but never has he felt so completely helpless about it.

This isn’t like dying in a sudden, electric explosion of a lightning strike. This isn’t like falling mid-battle, fighting for his life, sword held out in front of him until the very last second. This is slow and quiet and suffocating, it is drawn out and long-suffering, like Hylia is playing with him, torturing him before she finally ends it all.

It’s not like he deserves any better, he supposes.

A scream echoes in the distance, guttural and full of fear, like the sound of an animal crying out as they are torn limb from limb by a larger predator. Except there is no mistaking that this one is human.

“Hello?!” His breathing picks up as he clambers forward more quickly, half twisting his ankle on a tree root.

“Is anyone there?!”

Had it been a figment of his imagination? Is his worn-out mind configuring hallucinations from the ringing in his ears just so he can focus on something other than this endless white murk?

The scream sounds again, closer this time, but coming from all around him, the direction impossible to determine. But this time he hears the familiarity in it; he knows that voice, though he’s never heard it in this capacity, never heard such blatant terror held within it.

“Hyrule…” he all but whispers, his voice choked, the sound not coming out how he intended. “HYRULE!” he screams louder, his vocal cords feeling like they’re tearing under the strain. He spins around, desperately scrambling for the direction he needs to go in order to save him. But there is none. The sound had come from everywhere.

Had he gone searching for him after he had disappeared? Has he been wondering lost and alone all this time because of Legend’s stupidity? Has he met a grisly end in these woods, ripped to shreds by some wild animal, or is he lying somewhere in the mud, staring up into this boundless white mist, bleeding to death on the woodland floor in bleak agony?

“HYRULE!”

He can’t let that happen. Hyrule is too sweet, too determined, too kind, and he has already spent most of his life alone, he doesn’t deserve to die like that, he can’t die like that.

Another scream echoes out, lost to the white darkness and again, its tone is horrifyingly familiar.

“WIND!” Legend cries. There are tears streaming down his face, though he can’t remember when they started. Perhaps they have always been flowing.

Wind is so young, so hopeful and holds such promise. He told Legend only the other day how he dreams to explore every inch of the ocean, discover everything it has to offer. When he said it, he held such excitement in his big, blue eyes that Legend couldn’t even pretend not to be enthusiastic on his behalf.

“WIND! HYRULE! Where are you,” he utters miserably, those last words quieter but as much to himself as any of his pleas. His heart is banging in his chest, beating away the last stems of energy he has left within him. He dares not set out in one direction, for he might only extend the distance between him and his friends and when he finally loses his last morsel of energy, he won’t have the strength to rectify the mistake.

Another scream. Warriors. The man is like a brother to him, even if they have their disagreements. He has fought too hard in his life, he deserves a noble death, not this.

Then there is another scream, then another. Twilight, Four, Wild, Sky, their voices warped from terror and pain, so different from what he is used to them sounding like, none of them indicating any further as to where they may be located.

Legend is not holding back his sobs anymore, there is no point, no one can hear him. The mist takes his tears and draws strength from them, seeming to get ever thicker, that cruel, hypnotic swirling ever more disorientating.

Time’s voice sounds next, low and strained as if he’s trying to keep himself from screaming but fails as the pain gets the best of him.

“Time! Warriors!? PLEASE!” That last word comes out more of a scream, raw and painful, every fragment of helplessness he feels carried in its din, and he sinks to his knees. He has nothing left to give; dirt and twigs dig into his knees and shins and then his hands as he brings them too to the ground. The screams are a cacophony around him, coming from every direction, a symphony perhaps in the way they seem orchestrated to break him down until he is nothing. They are so frequent he can no longer tell them apart; it is just noise and agony and his own pathetic crying.

He wants to bring his hands to his ears, but he can’t bring himself to, for what awful kind of coward would block out their friends as they suffered. He cannot go to them, he cannot help, so he listens, and his tears fall and wet the muddied ground as he cries for his companions and all the others he could not save.

It is ridiculous now to think of all those who called him a hero when it’s clear all paths led to this moment, to him cowering on the slowly softening ground, snot dripping from his nose like a child while his friends die their endless, painful deaths.

But then the screams stop. Suddenly and all at once they cut off, and if it weren’t for the ringing in his ears and the heaviness of his face, he might have thought they never sounded at all.

They weren’t real, he thinks, they couldn’t have been. But his heart is still beating like a rabbit caught in a trap and adrenaline makes him tremble violently. The sheer disparity between the screams and the silence makes it seem like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs. He is waiting for something, waiting for them to start up again, perhaps worse than before.

And start up again they do, eventually, except this time, there is only one, and it is different. A jolt rips through him as if from a lightning strike, sudden and totally unpredictable at the scream that is higher in pitch than the rest and so, unbearably familiar.

Marin.

“Please, no,” he sobs, and though he knows it isn’t real now, that almost makes it worse.

He has not heard her voice in oh, so long. There have been nights where he’s lain awake trying to remember it, replaying those distant memories over and over in his mind, helpless as the picture of her gradually fades. He once would have given anything to hear her voice again, and it seems his desires have been thrown back in his face, distorted and satirical.

His heart aches as if it is tearing in two, and he truly believes it would be impossible to feel any more pain than he does in this moment.

He does move then, finally. He curls up into a ball, his back leaning against the rough, gnarled trunk of one of those dead, shadows of trees, his eyes pressed to his knees, listening to the sounds of his lost love, her sweet voice warped in excruciating pain.

There is a time during the potential hours he sits there that those screams turn to something melodic. He doesn’t know when it happened, perhaps it was too gradual to put a finger on the exact moment it changed, but the sound that reaches his ears is now a beautiful, eerie, and terribly familiar song.

It doesn’t sound like he remembers it. It’s not her voice, not really, there is an ethereal quality to it beyond the echo the woods provide and there is something strange and creepy about it. It’s a mockery of the girl he loved, and it is worse than any of the screams that came before it.

His tears stop. There are no more within him left to cry. The singing drones on and, he supposes, if he is to die here, at least he is thinking of her.

And he is. He thinks of lighthouses and gull’s cries, of falling asleep to the waves gently crashing on the shore. He thinks of the feeling of sand between his toes which he thought unpleasant at first but grew to love. He thinks of thick, red hair and the smell of strawberries and a time that brought true happiness in a way he hasn’t felt since.

There is an aching peace in those memories, so he hides in them. He lets himself be cowardly, because you know what? He’s given all that he has to play the hero, and perhaps he does deserve to die alone in the end, but in the face of it all, he’ll take back what he can.

So he gives up, lets the fog consume him.

_______________

“Legend!?”

He is aware, vaguely, that the singing has stopped. Aware of the ache in his head from crying and in his stomach from hunger. It is distant, but it is there, and logically, that means he’s not dead.

“Legend!?”

The voices… sirens… whatever they are haven’t given up then. Perhaps they’ll keep torturing him until the life finally leaves him completely. How cruel the world can be.

“Legend, where are you?!”

He perks up, finally bringing his face from his knees, for all the good it does. The fog is the milky white of a blinded man’s eyes.

Footsteps in the distance. The snap of twigs, desperate chatter. Maybe…

“Hello?!” Goddesses, his voice is wrecked. He’s never sounded so pitiful in his life.

“Legend! Is that you?!”

“Over here!” he cries, the small beginnings of hope blooming in his chest, despite him trying his best to smother it. Hoping never did end well for him.

“It is him!”

“Which direction did that come from?”

“This way, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’s a wonder we found anything in all this goddessdamned mist.”

“Over here, I think I see him!”

All of a sudden, a familiar face is staring into his own, worry etched into every feature, his curly brown hair wilder than usual, one cheek streaked with grime. But Hyrule is looking miraculously alive as he kneels in front of him, and this time Legend sobs in relief. He reaches out a trembling hand, the frailty of it almost sickening, and grabs a fistful of green tunic.

“You’re real?” he whispers hoarsely. It’s more a plea than a question and Hyrule’s eyes widen in something similar to shock.

“I’m real,” he tells him, watching helplessly as Legend reaches out his other hand to grab a handful of material in that one too.

“I wasn’t sure.” But he is now. Hyrule’s tunic is soft in his hands and the details of his face, the faint freckles on his skin, the green of his eyes, they’re too real to be anything else. Reality has been warped so many times for him that it’s become difficult over the years to tell what’s real and what’s not, but Hyrule is here now, and that’s as much confirmation as he’s going to get.

The others arrive, falling silent as they see Legend on the ground. He knows what a state he must look, he must have been crying for hours, but he can’t bring himself to care. The colours of their clothes are the most vibrant he’s seen for an eternity, and he turns his gaze from the Prussian blue of Warriors’ scarf to the glinting gold of Time’s chest plate like he is starving for it.

“What happened?” Time asks immediately, his voice soft but sombre.

“I thought you were dead. All of you.” Legend’s voice has almost given out completely, every syllable feels like he is ripping up the inside of his throat. There is another silence, and it seems no one knows what to say. Legend supposes the sight of him in such a vulnerable state must be a little shocking. He may not be the most stoic member of the group, but like them all, he keeps his emotions close to his chest.

“They say travellers who get lost in these woods hear the sounds of their loved ones in pain in the last moments of their life,” Wild murmurs quietly when no one says anything. His voice is muffled by the fog, but they all hear him crystal clear.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner,” Twilight says sombrely, as if it wasn’t his fault for running off in the first place. He doesn’t want apologies; he just wants to get out of this goddessforsaken woods and pretend all this never happened.

He knows that’s impossible though. The screams of those who stand in front of him unite in his mind with the strange, beautiful melody sung by the girl in his dreams. The way it echoes in his ears makes him fear it will never fade.

“Can you stand?” asks Sky, clearly sharing his desire to leave this place as soon as possible. To tell the truth, he doesn’t think he can, but he lets Hyrule haul him up, and though he wobbles palpably, he remains on his feet.

“We’ll rest as soon as we’re out of this fog,” Time tells them as they follow Wild closely. He somehow seems to know where he’s going, though Legend isn’t paying much attention to him, lost in his own relief and remnant horror.

“Let’s not come here again.” Wind’s voice is smaller than usual, containing none of its usual optimism. Legend could not agree with him more.

The atmosphere around them feels slightly strange to him. His ears still carry those Goddessawful screams and nothing feels quite normal. It is only the feeling of Hyrule by his side helping him along that assures him he’s truly been saved. But he trusts his friends, believes them to be real. And that belief is all he has.

#lyra writes #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #lu legend #Legend's turn to be tortured today

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loki-hargreeves · 3 years

Text

Loki x Reader - Thanos controls You

Warnings: angst, mentions of torture, mind-control, fighting, choking, blood and gore, more angst (it's a lot ok)

Word Count: 5,8K

Summary: After failing to deliver the Tesseract, Loki has been living in fear that Thanos will one day find him again and seek revenge. You have been missing ever since Loki was imprisoned after what he did in New York. Little did Loki know that you were with Thanos all along. During the events of Infinity War, Thanos makes you battle Loki in order to obtain the Tesseract

Author’s Note: I know Thanos doesn’t have the mind stone at the beginning of Infinity War but it’s fiction and I’m gonna do what Marvel does best, ignore canon. Let’s blame the Other’s powers, okay? Please enjoy this angsty little thing! :)

YOUR POV

“There’s room for more!” Loki yelled over the cries of scared children and their crying families. There was no way he would send a half-empty escape pod on its way to Midgard. That’s when he saw a child all by herself a little further away. She was clinging onto the wall for dear life and the ship trembled due to the impact of getting shot at. Her parents were nowhere to be seen. Dead. Loki felt sick to his stomach when he knew they were most likely dead. Thanos’ children were slaying kids and their parents heartlessly and they had the audacity to say they were being rescued. That their deaths were part of something bigger than life itself.

They viewed Thanos as a god who was being merciful even when he ripped a beating heart out of someone's chest.

Loki’s heart clenched in his chest painfully. Before it would be too late, he made his way to the tiny child and picked her up carefully. She seemed to recognize the prince but she wasn’t afraid of him. Instead, she hugged Loki so she wouldn’t fall out of his grasp.

“Where’s mommy?” The girl sounded absolutely petrified.

Loki didn’t know what to say as he made his way to the pod. Once he reached it, he saw a woman by the entrance.

“You’ll be safe here,” Loki promised the child as he handed her over to the lady. That’s all he had time for as he returned to the corridor. A particularly loud blast made him stumble over his feet and he had to catch his balance by taking support from the metal wall. The lights flickered, which meant the electronics of the ship were injured. There was a strange smokey smell in the air, which lingered with the irony stench of blood.

Loki couldn’t believe this was happening. Had Thanos finally come for him? Or did Thanos somehow know of the tesseract? Either way, if Thanos succeeded, he would kill two birds with one stone. The thought of this being all his fault made Loki nauseous. Guilt was nibbling at his skin and he knew it would eat him alive in the end. He never wished for this to happen!

As he ran down the corridors frantically searching for Asgardians that needed help, he heard different kinds of cries. People were letting out guttural screams. Others were pleading for their lives. Listening to the massacre that was taking place was worse than any nightmare Loki ever recalled having. They were all drained after Ragnarok and now Thanos had found them. It was haunting how ruthless fate could be.

Footsteps began to approach Loki and they were awfully close. Too close for his liking. He was quick to grab his daggers and turn to face whoever dared try to sneak up on him. When he saw a familiar figure, he nearly dropped the blades from his hands. Seeing you there was like shock itself punched him in the face.

You were there, real and clear as day.

How long had it been since the last time he saw you?

Ever since Loki had found out about his true nature, his life had gone downhill. After he ended up with Thanos and went through pure hell with him, he had changed. During his time away from Asgard, he had only missed one person truly - you. You, who had been by his side through everything. You, who hadn’t loved him any less when you saw his deep blue skin and those crimson red eyes that in Loki’s mind resembled blood. You, who had seen him as the rightful king of Asgard when everyone else betrayed him. The light of his life, the angel that had cared for him even when he felt like a monster.

You, who hadn’t been on Asgard when Thor brought him back to face Odin in trial. Loki had spent a lot of time in his cell, alone. He waited for you to appear but you never did and no one ever told him why. They rather left him to drown in his own vicious thoughts. It wasn’t until Loki pretended to be Odin that he began to learn what had happened on Asgard during his exile.

The people at the palace loved to gossip. Some claimed you had stolen a ship and left Asgard behind for good, that living as Loki’s widow had been too hard for you. In Loki’s darkest hours, he wondered if you truly felt ashamed for being associated with him. So ashamed in fact, that you had left it all behind and started anew. Sometimes, he believed that, but it never stopped him from trying to find you. He had searched night and day but it seemed like you had vanished into thin air. It had killed him more every day living in the unknown. His only wish had been that you were okay.

Now there you were, looking like you had never left. In a moment of pure shock, Loki couldn’t even begin to comprehend how you appeared on the ship - seemingly out of nowhere. He was happy to see you, despite how appalling everything else was at that moment.

“Y/N,” Loki spoke your name softly and dared to blink. When you were still there as he opened his eyes, he felt goosebumps all over his skin.

You looked at him so innocently, but then he noticed that something was off. The look in your eyes was cold. You weren’t in your typical Asgardian gear. Instead, you were dressed in dark armour that Loki could’ve sworn he had seen before, but he didn’t know where. Nevertheless, it made him feel uneasy.

“It’s been a while, Loki,” You attempted a smile as you walked closer to him, your husband. It still counted since he had never truly died, right?

Loki didn’t stop you as you walked right up to him. His eyes never left yours. Part of him wanted to kiss you, to hold you and feel you were real, but the shrieks in the background reminded him of how dangerous everything was. The daggers disappeared from his hands and Loki held you by your shoulders. He needed to see that his hands wouldn't go right through you, that he hadn't lost it.

“You need to get off this ship, Y/N!” He told you seriously. There was profound fear in his voice.

Instead of being worried at all, you just smiled back at him.

That was so unlike you.

“Y/N, do you hear me?”

“Oh, I do,” You confirmed nonchalantly, “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

A bloodcurdling cry startled Loki. They were coming closer and closer. The two of you wouldn’t be safe in that passageway for long. By now, his heart was racing with his thoughts. He felt panic settling into his bones.

Before Loki could say another word, you cupped his face rather gently. The fact that you didn’t seem disturbed by what was happening was eerie to Loki. He knew that you had a heart much bigger than anyone else he knew of. The version of you he remembered wouldn’t have been so calm. Something was terribly wrong.

“I need something,” You admitted and batted your eyelashes. Before, Loki would’ve found that quite adorable, but at that moment it was so wrong. He had been so ecstatic to see you and know you were alive, but now he almost wanted to run the other way.

“What?” Loki barely found his voice at that point. He felt sick and heartbroken. This had to be a nightmare, the worst kind.

“The Tesseract, Loki. I really need it,” You blurted it out.

Shivers ran down his spine. How did you know about it? Why did you even care? He was unsure if he could even trust you with the knowledge that he had it in his possession. Usually, he would’ve trusted you with his life without any hesitation, but you had been gone for years and returned like this, with bizarre motives.

You returned at the same time as Thanos and you were looking for the tesseract. Loki wasn’t a fool. He finally put two and two together and the realization was too arduous to believe. The idea of you and Thanos even meeting was something Loki could only see happening in his worst nightmares, but he was afraid it had already occurred. If so, he needed to hear it from you,

“Is Thanos making you do this?”

The tone of his voice seemed to offend you as you sent him a nasty glare. Your softness turned harsh and you pushed Loki against the metal wall with a loud thud. Before he could get out of the way, you grabbed your own dagger and pressed it against his neck so it was ever so slightly pressing against his exposed skin.

“He is not making me do anything. I am glad to serve the all-mighty Thanos. I won’t fail him, unlike you,” You snarled at Loki spitefully.

Never in a million years had Loki imagined this moment to happen. One where you would be fighting against each other. It was supposed to the two of you against the nine realms. Being held like that by the one person he loved more than anything was tearing his heart to shreds, but he tried not to show it.

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t truly you. He knew exactly what Thanos had done to you so you would act like this, and it only made it hurt so much more. It felt like someone was pouring salt into an open wound, and his entire body, heart and soul were wounded.

“Now give me the tesseract and we will be on our merry way,” You tried to obtain it again. This time you seemed more serious. Was it the tone of your voice or your weapon pressed against his pulse? Loki didn’t know.

“I don’t have it,” Loki lied as smoothly as he could because even thinking straight at that moment felt impossible. The world was caving in around him at supersonic speed.

You pressed the sharp edge of the blade closer to him, feeling how just a little bit more pressure would've broken his skin “You’re a great liar, my dear, but I know that’s not the truth.”

Loki didn’t want to fight you, but he didn’t see another way out. And it was good for him that you had learned most of the tricks from him. Your every move would be more easily predictable for Loki. He had to find a way to distract you.

“Why do you need it?” That was a foolish question. He knew damn well what Thanos would do if he got his dirty hands on the infinity stones.

“Why do you care?” You didn’t answer his silly question.

Suddenly, Loki grabbed your wrist tightly and yanked your arm to the side. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but Loki knew you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

At least your weapon fell out of your hand, but you knew how to defend yourself without it. So did Loki.

Loki tried to turn things around so he would have you pinned down against the wall, but you didn’t let him get that far. As he turned you around so your back was pressed firmly against his chest, you kicked your legs against the wall hard, pushing both of you back. Loki took the biggest impact as he fell on the floor, with you on top of him. Quickly, you rolled out of his grasp, turning around in one swift movement so that you were now sat on top of him, with your legs tightly against both his sides.

A powerful orb of magic grew above your fingertips and you brought it closer to Loki’s face - so close that he could feel the heat of your burning powers. The magic created an electric sensation on your skin. It felt like you pushed your fingers deep into warm sand. Toying with it was exhilarating, and seeing the astonished look on Loki’s face made it so much better. The green light of your powers cast light in his eyes, only deepening the look of disbelief that was painted all over him.

“It’s sweet that you’re trying not to hurt me,” You taunted him at that point, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

“This isn’t you, Y/N,” Loki groaned. He was so sure of himself.

You tilted your head and smirked, looking at him like a cat would at a mouse. “I don’t know, Loki. It’s been a while,” You explained casually and leaned closer and closer to his face, stopping when your noses brushed against one another. By now, Loki was frozen on the spot. He was trying to come up with a plan and he felt hopeless.

“I’ve changed,” You whispered to him and felt tempted to kiss him, to taste him. Would you taste his fear? His heartbreak? You were sure it would taste sweet.

“The torture must’ve been painful,” Loki pushed his feelings aside. Yes, he felt like his heart had been ripped to shreds, but he had to do something. He had to surprise you, even if it would hurt. Words could hurt more than actions, and if Loki wanted to survive and to help you, he needed to reach the real you even if the only way to do so was cruel.

How did he know? You narrowed your eyes and surprisingly, found yourself waiting for him to continue.

"I was trained well."

"Trained?" Loki spat out harshly, "I know you're afraid. He has promised you something worse than the pain he has inflicted on you already. It won't happen. If you let Thanos continue his reign, he will not care about your loyalty!"

"Shut up!" That was too much for you. With tears brimming your eyes from anger, you put your hand over his mouth to silence him. He didn't budge and you didn't know why.

You pushed the memories aside. The painful memories of the time Thanos first found you. It was wrong to think of it as torture. No, he had shown you what you're truly capable of. It was training. Training to become a stronger person after the hell you endured on Asgard.

But now that you found yourself thinking about it, it seemed like the memories were all blurred as if you were looking into the past through a broken lens. Someone had spilt oil all over it and the pictures were warped.

"I know you have it," You needed the tesseract. "Give it to me and then this will all be over," you removed your hand from his mouth because it looked like he wanted to speak.

Loki knew that if he’d push you, your magic could burn him, but at the moment he couldn’t come up with another plan. He couldn’t just stay on the ground as people were being killed on the other side of the wall!

"Okay," Loki blurted out. Okay?

For a moment, he had you surprised which was the perfect distraction.

Loki grabbed your wrists tightly and pushed you to the side, but not quickly enough. You released your magic and it graced the side of his face, making him growl out either in pain or frustration - or both. The two of you rolled over and this time Loki was on top, holding your arms pinned above your head. You were trapped because of one mistake. You couldn't believe Loki had used the element of surprise to turn the situation upside down.

Furiously, you tried to kick your legs free, but he had you pinned down beneath him and Loki was strong. There was no point in squirming, you had to come up with another idea.

The two of you faced each other and Loki revealed his face and the damage you had done. Your magic had burned his skin and left a bloody cut on his eyebrow. It had just barely missed his eye. If he lived, it would surely leave a scar.

You flinched when a drop of his blood hit your cheek and it rolled down the side of your face.

"What are you going to do, kill me?"

Loki could never bring himself to kill you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself with your blood on his hands. No. He had other ideas. Loki remembered what it was like to be under Thanos' control. He remembered how much it hurt to even think about the torture. He had to remind you, he had to make you see that this wasn't the real you.

"This version of you, or I certainly hope so," Loki replied mysteriously. Before you could ask him to elaborate, Loki released your wrist and slammed the palm of his hand against your forehead. In a split second, you were in a different place - in your head. You could've sworn you heard him mutter "I'm sorry," before everything turned black.

It was hot, burning hot. Metal chains were attached to you and they were glowing red. Torching. You could only scream in pain as the metal sunk into your skin, your bones, your nerves. It felt like he had chained your mind and with the tiniest movement of his finger, he could make you do his dirty work.

He, Thanos, was sitting on his throne. He was the puppet master and you the puppet. He didn't look at you fondly. No. He was smiling as he watched you cry your lungs out, letting out animalistic growls as the pain got worse. It was so overwhelming that every once in a while, you would scream until you passed out. But every time, one of his children would be there to wake you up.

It was time for another round. And another. And yet another. Would it ever end?

Each time you tried to resist the chains, the strings that were sewn onto you and connected to his fingertips, it hurt more. Eventually, you learned that allowing the strings to tighten around you made it hurt less. It almost felt good, like a long embrace after a long day.

"I don't want to hurt you, my child."

Lies. You knew that all he said were nasty lies, but sometimes it was easier to believe lies than the truth.

"Make it stop!" You would beg him. How long had you been there?

You could remember Thanos touching your face gently, which was so comforting after everything you had endured. At the same time, it made you sick. You couldn't believe that the one who had caused you distress could have such a gentle touch.

"You're ready," Thanos had realized. The Other had appeared right before you and his fingertips were pressed against one another, making him look like he was deep in thought. You had no idea what they were doing, but the next thing you knew was that you no longer felt pain.

The chains, the strings, they were all invisible. It looked like you were free, but the weight of the metal was still pressed against your skin. Had you imagined it?

No,

Deep down you knew that the strings were still attached to you, but they had only made it seem like you had a choice.

"Excellent," The Other's voice surprised you. You merely blinked and you had returned to the vessel. Loki was above you and the Other was standing right there, "You found him."

The Other used his powers to push Loki off you. Shock had made your entire body numb and you couldn't scramble up to your feet. It felt like your limbs had been turned to stone and you were anchored to the floor.

Loki got up slowly with his arms raised in surrender. He was well aware of the powers the Other had and Loki wasn't going to fight him now. If he followed you for long enough, then maybe just maybe he could come up with a plan. Loki looked at you as you finally got up. As you stood next to the Other, you couldn't believe your legs carried you. Something was so wrong. You felt sick and you couldn't shake it off. It felt like something had snapped within you, but you didn't know what.

"He is waiting for you," The Other explained as he turned to walk away, most likely to wherever Thanos was waiting.

Loki had no choice but to follow, and you walked behind, making sure he didn't try to escape.

Why did Loki make you remember that? What did he think he would obtain with making you relive something so awful? It hadn't worked, right?

There he was. Thanos was standing by a hole that had been ripped into the side of the ship. Magic was keeping it sealed so the vacuum of space wouldn't suck everyone into it. But still, the emptiness of space wasn't frightening at all compared to the titan who was standing right there.

Loki swallowed thickly as he saw him again. It had been years but he remembered everything like it had happened yesterday. Seeing Thanos standing in the middle of the piles of bodies, in the room that smelled like smoke and blood, was sickening. Thanos hadn't just killed a part of Loki. He had just slaughtered these innocent Asgardians with the help of his so-called children. He had taken you.

He will make you long for something as sweet as pain

Loki closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. They had stayed true to their threats.

"I know what it’s like to lose," Thanos turned around now that he knew Loki was there. At long last. Thanos had not forgotten what Loki had failed to do, and Thanos was a man of his words.

"To feel so desperately that you’re right yet to fail, nonetheless," Thanos continued dramatically and slowly made his way closer to Loki. He saw Thor on the ground, bloodied and weak. The brother of Loki. As tempting as the idea was to torture Thor right in front of the god of mischief, Thanos had different plans. If there was only one way Loki would ever give him the tesseract, it was going to be in order to save you. You were Loki's true weakness.

"It’s frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you, to what end?" Thanos looked Loki right in the eye. He could see that Loki was afraid, yet Loki never looked away from him. He was either too proud or fearless. Thanos had liked that about Loki initially. But he had failed Thanos greatly. It had cost him infinity stones.

"Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. And now, it’s here. Or should I say I am," Thanos finished his dramatics because it was time for action, to turn the wheels and see the bigger picture. This was the end of an era and a new beginning for a different universe. In Thanos' mind, only he could bring balance and order. He gestured for you to walk up to his side.

Too afraid of the idea of what would happen if you disobeyed, you walked right up to Thanos, feeling like a fly that was willingly flying into cobwebs. When you were close enough, you kneeled and dipped your head so he wouldn't see the worry in your eyes. It wasn't there before.

"I didn't obtain the tesseract from him, but I am sure that he has it, father," You muttered quietly. Why did you say that? There was a pounding headache growing within your skull. You didn't know what was right or wrong anymore and you couldn't fight it either.

Father

Loki clenched his jaw as he followed the situation closely. Hearing that made his blood boil. He wanted to rip Thanos apart after this. Never in a million years had he imagined this, to see you pledge your alliance to Thanos, kneeling before him and respecting him. Thanos didn't deserve that. Hell, Thanos didn't even deserve to look at you. It was wrong.

At that moment, Loki worried that his trick hadn't worked. That the memories hadn't awakened anything within you. That it was all too late now. This was the end, the one thing in life that was inevitable.

"I know, my child," Thanos let out a sigh. Then he grabbed you by your jaw like he had done before, forcing you to face him. "I know he has it," He repeated and suddenly his touch turned violent. He closed his hand around your neck tightly and you gasped for air helplessly. Your hands - tiny compared to his - grabbed his fingers and you tried to pry them apart, but he was tougher than you. Panic shot through your entire body when you realized you couldn't breathe. It turned your blood to ice and your poor heart was beating so hard you were afraid it would explode.

What was he doing?

The moment he pulled you to your feet, so high that you had to stand on the tips of your toes, he spoke, "The tesseract or her life," Thanos smiled devilishly, showing no remorse. He didn't care about you. You were a pawn in his game and if you would die at his feet, he would just walk over you and carry on.

"You choose," Thanos put the weight of the world on Loki's shoulders.

Loki wanted to rescue you from that monster, but he wasn't stupid. With all of Thanos' children surrounding him, he knew that he would be dead before he could reach you. Nonetheless, it didn't mean he wouldn't try. Seeing you clawing at Thanos' hand, fighting for something as simple as air and not getting it was heartbreaking. Loki's body was trembling with hatred and hurt. Tears blurred his vision and he struggled to keep his composure.

How had it all come to this?

The thought of Thanos with the tesseract was haunting. Soon he would have all the stones and he would destroy reality as they knew it. But Loki could live with that. He couldn't live knowing you had died when he had a chance to save you. Perhaps he was selfish for choosing you over the entire galaxy, but Loki didn't care. Nothing mattered if he would lose you again.

"Alright, stop!" Loki made up his mind. "I choose her," Finally, Thanos released his grip on you and let you fall on the cold ground. Your hands wrapped around your throat gently and you coughed painfully. It took you a while to finally breathe again, which was a huge relief for both Loki and you.

And now Loki was holding the tesseract. It was so bright that it painted the space blue. It was almost too bright to look at. The power within the stone was so strong, you could sense it like heat from the sun in spring after a long and cold winter. Loki was tempted to use the tesseract to grab you and escape, but he quickly shut those thoughts away. Thanos would follow him for the end of all days.

"You...you really are the worst, brother," Thor was following the situation to the best of his abilities. He spat out blood as he watched Loki holding the cube. It made him sad. Everything they ever knew was destroyed in the name of power, pure and raw power that the tesseract could offer. Was it worth it?

Loki glanced at Thor who was too weak to even get up. He didn't care too much about what he had to say. Then he looked at you. There you were, on the ground struggling to breathe after Thanos had crushed your windpipe. There was bruising on your skin that would only deepen with time. Time that you possibly wouldn't have after this.

He saw the tears running down your face, but you didn't sob and whimper. It seemed like you were as still as stone. You couldn't bring yourself to face Loki.

"I assure you," Loki found his voice and he addressed both you and Thor with his words, "the sun will shine on us again."

What did he mean by that?

You were ashamed to tilt your gaze to see him, to see the tesseract. The damn infinity stone had ruined it all! It was why Thanos had wrecked Loki, why he had destroyed you too. Why so many people were now dead. If you had one wish that could come true, you would wish for the tesseract to be destroyed forever.

Thanos had his back turned to you. Loki was slowly but surely making his way closer to the titan, almost like he was afraid to move but he forced his body to comply. Why? Why would he trade the tesseract for your life? It seemed like whatever spell you had been under had worn off. You were free, but it was more terrifying than being under Thanos' control under these circumstances. He didn't need you, and soon enough the vessel would be blown to bits. All of you, even Loki.

Would you be able to tell him how sorry you were?

"Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian," Thanos wasn't fond of Loki's strange choice of words.

"Well for one thing I'm not Asgardian," Loki replied quickly. It sounded a little bit witty, which was confusing. Where did the boost of confidence come from? Was he up to something?

"And for another," He continued dramatically. This time it was Thanos' turn to be confused.

"We have a Hulk."

Everything that happened after that happened so fast that you could hardly keep up with it. Loki dropped the tesseract and he leapt toward you. Thanos barely had time to turn around when a huge, green beast appeared out of nowhere and it seemed angry. It was eager to fight the titan.

Loki had you up on your feet in no time and the two of you ran away from the immediate danger. He led you to one of the many corridors on the vessel until no one could possibly see you. They were too distracted by the Hulk to even think about Loki and you. It wasn't until he was right in front of you that you could comprehend what was going on. He was kneeling on the floor and you were sat against the wall for support. Your hands were trembling so hard, it seemed like you were freezing up and you couldn't make it stop.

Loki had tricked Thanos.

He was relieved when you didn't fight him, yet he was unsure if it meant you were no longer under Thanos' control, or if you were simply too tired to fight.

He cupped your face gently and searched for answers in your expression. Back in the day, he had been able to read you like an open book.

You put your hands around his wrists and pulled him closer. You were desperate for the comfort he could bring in the midst of the living hell you were stuck in. How did he not hate you?

"I'm s- I'm sorry," You whimpered, finally cracking like a plate that had fallen on the floor. "I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," Loki couldn't possibly let you apologize for what had happened. He was possibly the one person who understood exactly what you had gone through and what it was like to follow orders from that monster. There was not an ounce of judgement to be found in his heart.

What mattered now was that you were together again. You could come up with a plan, but you had to work fast. As much as Loki wanted to hold you and comfort you, to feel that you were real, he knew there wasn't enough time for that.

"We need to get off this thing," Loki's mind was running a marathon as he tried to come up with an escape plan.

"They're gonna blow it up," You explained, feeling how bad your lips were quivering as you spoke. The moment Thanos had what he came for, they would leave and destroy everything they'd leave behind.

Shivers ran down Loki's spine as he heard that. It only confirmed that you had to act quickly. Loki wasn't sure how long the Hulk could fight Thanos. Would they be able to rescue Thor? How much time did they have?

The blood in the wound you had caused on his face was beginning to dry. It looked gnarly and all you wanted was to make it all better. Knowing that you had hurt him made you sick with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Loki. I didn't w-want to fight you," You sniffled, breaking Loki's train of thought. For the first time, he felt lost. He didn't really know what to do. Were there any escape pods left?

"I know," Loki assured you. "I know that. I was in your shoes when I was on Midgard," He explained briefly, unaware whether or not you knew of it. Had Thanos talked about him to you?

A sense of impending doom weighed you two down. If this was the end, then at least you were together, right? You and Loki against the nine realms, you would face the end together if there wasn't another way out. Whenever you had pictured your final day, you had imagined something entirely different than this. You would be old together, with hundreds of stories of your shared life. You would be surrounded by people you cared about. It would be calm, the exact opposite of this.

"I love you," You needed to tell him that. Any moment could be your last. The world would cave in and you would be gone forever.

Loki hated how much that sounded like a farewell, but at the same time, it had been so long since he had last heard those three words, let alone from you. Perhaps it was sick and twisted, but it made him smile.

"I love you too," Loki was sure of it. He had never stopped loving you and he didn't think he was even capable of that.

It seemed like you acted on instinct. You found enough strength to push yourself right against Loki. There was no hesitation in your actions as you kissed him. Loki closed his eyes when he felt your trembling lips pressed against his. Your scent, still sweet and familiar despite it all, punched its way into his lungs. He held your face gently but the kiss was passionate, almost despairing.

You wanted to scream out in agony because at last, you were reunited with Loki but not in the way you imagined. You felt like the shell of the person you were before, and now you knew for a fact that Thanos had done the exact same things to Loki. That titan had killed your souls beyond repair. But all you could do was kiss Loki and hold him and hope that he could feel how sorry you were. You didn't want to let go, afraid that if you did, it would all end. Just like that.

Loki broke the kiss, and for a moment you rested your foreheads against one another like you had done so many times before. It was comforting. You both wanted to stay close like that, but you recognised that you couldn't. Letting go of each other and getting up on your weary feet was so incredibly difficult, but it had to be done.

The world around you began to glow brighter. You quickly held onto Loki, startled as the mysterious light surrounded the two of you.

Loki held his breath as he studied the warm glimmering magic that had swallowed you. In between the bright rays of light, he saw all the colours of the rainbow. Shimmering. He saw reds and blues, yellows and greens, shining brighter than the other and it changed smoothly.

The Bifrost

He didn't know how or why, but he knew for a fact that you were in the magical portal. He couldn't see beyond it anymore. He couldn't feel the floor beneath his feet. It was like he was levitating mid-air, with you tightly in his arms.

Heimdall must've conjured the forefathers, letting their powers flow through him one last time. Where to? Loki assumed that anywhere would be better than where they had been mere seconds ago.

And it was a miracle.

A/N: I think it would've made more sense for Heimdall to send Thor or Loki to earth rather than the Hulk. So that's why I ended it like that

I'd absolutely love to hear your feedback! <3

TAGS:

Loki: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02 @myraiswack @prettysbliss @weirdfangirl2416

Forever Taglist: @iraniq @embrycallsgirl @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14 @i-have-arrived-bitch

#Loki #Loki fic #Loki fanfiction #Loki oneshot #Loki x You #Loki x Reader #Loki x Y/N #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #tw angst #Loki angst #Loki/You

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morizoras-cave · 4 years

Text

Sleepover (Collab with @lozzypoz321)

Sebastian Stan x f!teen!co-star!reader, MCU Cast x f!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: fluff, crack honestly

Description: You and the MCU cast have a secret sleepover on set.

Warnings: language!!

A/N by morizoras-cave: this was even more fun than the last fic, loz is so so funny and so so talented and i just feel so comfortable writing with her :) also so many… bad things… happened while we wrote this. I mean it was chaotic.. I hope you enjoy its LONG

A/N by @lozzypoz321: this was so much fun to write and I loved it!! Honestly you do not want to know what happened behind th scenes because that was a m e s s. Vic is suck and amazing writer and deserves so much love! Hope you enjoy!!

“Kid, open the door!” your head snapped to the door of your hotel room. You recognised Sebastian’s voice coming from outside. “Open up!”

“I’m coming” you yelled, padding over to the door and opening up. Sebastian and Anthony stood out there. They looked oddly child-like as they stood there with their sleeping bags and dressed in pjs. You snorted. “Well, hello to you too!”

“Don’t laugh, N/n, this is serious.” Anthony said as you walked out, you also dressed in your marvel pjs and with a sleeping bag in hand. Although, you thought, it was hard to take him seriously when he was dressed in Winnie The Pooh slippers.

“Whatever you say, man.”

The entirety of the marvel cast had planned a sleepover on set. It was very secret, apparently. You didn’t know the full story, but they had seemingly asked the directors if they could have an onset sleepover and they’d refused, so someone had to steal a key. It was a whole process, but nonetheless you found yourself on the way to set at around 10:30.

“Is anyone bringing snacks?” you asked. You, Seb and Anthony were walking down the street. You could see the set already. “Damn, I hope so” Anthony mumbled and you all continued walking.

When you got there Elizabeth was standing outside, holding the door open with what you assumed was the stolen key. She ushered you inside. “You’re late and for some reason I’m not surprised.”

Inside all the others were already waiting, the entirety of the cast. Notably, you could see that Robert, Scarlett and Mark had created a pillow fort, and were hiding out in the coziness with a bag of popcorn.

“Welcome, late-comers!” Robert greeted you dramatically, standing up in his Iron Man onesie. “You’ve missed the pizzas. You know, because you’re late!”

“It’s fine, we already ate. Which is why we’re late,” Sebastian pointed nodded to Anthony. You nodded along.

Everyone sat down on a large stretch of couches, blankets and pillows, where Elizabeth had placed a projector pointed to an empty wall of the set. You sat down with Tom (Hiddleston), Sebastian and Mark. It was a rather weird thing to see so many grown men and women (that you had previously had respect for) in their most colourful pjs, but you supposed it was on you to expect any differently from this cast of people.

Chris (Evans) had picked a movie and, unsurprisingly, he picked Iron Man 1. Robert protested for about two seconds, before he let everyone shower him in compliments because that movie was so damn good. “Okay okay, I guess we can watch it if we really have to”

Scarlett lightly laughed and pressed a button on the projector to start the movie after placing the disk inside that Chris (Evans) had brought from his collection at his house. “Where’s the snacks?” You heard Chris (Hemsworth) loudly whisper to Scarlett who sat next to him.

“Ooh do we have popcorn?” You quietly asked Sebastian who nodded and reached across Anthony who was laid next to him to retrieve the salted popcorn that Mark had gotten just for you as he was in charge of the snack committee. Chris (Evans) silently got up, after making sure nobody noticed him (except from you), and crawled across the room in his rapunzel pjs on his hands and knees to reach Robert who was now on the verge of unconsciousness with dribble falling from the side of his mouth. Trying to be discreet, he raised his hands scarily behind him, gaining everybody’s attention in the room except Robert, and suddenly pounced on him in a playful manner.

The man leapt up without warning with wide eyes the size of dinner plates and held his hands up as if he was doing karate in a mode of self defence. Everybody in the room burst out laughing at his reaction, Chris (Evans) reaching for his left pec as he leant back on his knees in a full on belly laugh. “You looked like you were a 6 year old girl” Scarlett laughed out and shook her head towards the man, who was now grumbling as he sat back down on his spot with an abundance of blankets by his side.

“All the snacks are gone” Anthony exclaimed to the cast, making Tom (Hiddleston) look up from the screen and ponder “well we could do something that doesn’t require food” he suggested, making everyone look at him to continue.

“I mean, we could play hide and seek?”

“Oh!” You exclaimed excitedly, one of your first inputs of the night “I’d love to play hide and seek! My dad used to do it with me all the time!”

Your happy demeanour made them all smile as you began explaining how he would hide next to you while your brother tried to find both of you. “Well it’s settled then, we’re playing hide and seek!” Chris (Hemsworth) announced in his Australian accent, before you could be told twice, you jumped up and grabbed Sebastian's hand before racing out of the room, not even giving anybody a second glance.

“Woah, where are we going?” Sebastian chuckled, following your rapid footsteps. “Don’t worry about this, Seb, I’ve the perfect hiding spot!” It was a little bit embarrassing to admit, but every time you entered a new place, you thought about the best hiding spots (in case of an unwarranted game of hide and seek).

You pulled Sebastian into the costume room and shuffled awkwardly into the back. There, you found your masterful hiding place. It was a vent, but not a small one. It was big. Sebastian looked at you in surprise. “Not bad, Y/n.”

You popped the cover right off, catching Sebastian off guard. “I unscrewed it back in February,” you explained and jumped inside. Sebastian seemed to want to question you further, but instead just shrugged to himself and followed you inside, closing the vent cover behind him.

“This really is the perfect place,” he mumbled, voice echoing slightly in the vents. It was pretty cold, but stable. “And hey, didn’t you say that your dad used to hide with you?” He asked while looking around the airy place. “Oh, um, yeah” you said sheepishly, just now remembering the moment in the other room.

“Um- I-I mean, not that you’re my- Like, my dad-” you stammered, blushing at the awkward moment, “Like- My dad is my dad- You’re just- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to make this awkward, I just-”

“Shut up!” Sebastian hissed suddenly. You looked at him, taken aback. He was staring out the vent covers, and then looked back at you with a grin. He pointed to it silently. Your brows furrowed, and you looked out. You saw Chris in the room, hand holding a flashlight while aiming it around the room, trying to find a sign of anybody. You held your breath.

“I know you’re in here! I can smell your fear!” he yelled trying to act scary. Meanwhile, he just looked kind of goofy in his Disney princess pjs. You saw Sebastian beside you, trying not to laugh. His face was contorted into a forced frown, but a smile still crept up the corners of his mouth. Seeing his face, you started feeling the urge to laugh too.

You both laughed silently, trying so hard to not give away your position to Chris. You were failing miserably.

“I will find you!” Chris said again, and this time Sebastian let out a laugh, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened and so did yours. Chris stopped moving, snapping his head around furiously. “Who was that? Where are you?”

You saw the moment Sebastian decided to give up on hiding, as he just suddenly started laughing like a maniac. You did too, both of you clutching your stomachs. Chris scoffed and tore the vent cover off, revealing the two of you laughing uncontrollably.

“Come on, guys, it wasn’t that funny!” Chris sighed, but he was wrong, it was definitely that funny. You guys went back to the movie room. Robert, Tom, Scarlett and Anthony had all already been found.

“Welcome to the losers!” Tom grumbled. You both sat down with him and chatted while waiting for the others to turn up. The next was Mark, who had been hiding under a table, and then Elizabeth who wasn’t even trying, but was somehow second last anyway.

Then came the waiting game. Hemsworth, the biggest of you all, the goofiest, and seemingly the easiest to spot, was still at large. Chris was hopelessly searching, but came back every ten minutes with a more and more depressed look on his attractive face.

“I can’t find him!” he admitted finally. There was a collective sigh, and then everyone started searching together, simultaneously calling out “Chris! The aussie one!” Eventually you did find him, crammed behind a couch uncomfortably.

When you finally did, Anthony (as well as several others) seemed to have only grown hungrier, and the need for snacks was larger than ever. “I swear to god if we don’t find food right now I may just quit the job” Anthony swore and huffed as he crossed both his arms over his chest. “That seems a bit dramatic but okay” Scarlett laughed as the ten of you rounded a corner in the building to only come face to face with an abundance of vending machines that everyone used at break and you all had seemingly forgotten about. “Woah” Tom said, impressed at the arrangement.

“Food galore,” Elizabeth expressed and was the first one to walk towards, closer to the arrangement, leaving the rest of you by the wall with your jaws dropped. “If I’m sick, don’t blame it on me” you quietly expressed, making Mark laugh from his spot next to you.

Trying not to seem too excited, Anthony ran forward, eyes following each and every item of edible food and drink. “I think you better hurry up” Tom commented from his spot the furthest from you, noticing the way Anthony and Chris were now eyeing your favourite type of chips.

“Umm yeah, that sounds like a good idea”

You, Robert and Sebastian immediately went over to the vending machine that was holding doritos, lays, and other classic chips. “Um, about earlier,” you mumbled to the Romanian man as Robert began to shake the machine with force, hoping something would fall down “I didn’t mean it like that” your cheeks flooded with embarrassment as the memory came flashing back to you.

But before you could start apologising even more, he stopped you and sent a reassuring smile your way “don’t worry about it Y/N, I know what you meant.” He gave your shoulder a small squeeze, before going back to watching Robert yelling at the Doritos to “fall out, you big pussy!”

Before Chris (Evans) and Tom could come over to your side of the room to be responsible adults and make a rational decision, Chris (Hemsworth) had already come bounding over to you and kicked the glass where the chips were held behind. He put full force behind the kick, so it shattered and fell loudly with a crash to the ground.

“Erm. Good idea?”

For no reason at all the situation was just funny to you, so while everyone in the room was stood still shocked (apart from Hemsworth who rocked back and forth on his feet sheepishly) you began to laugh. “What’s funny? You could literally cut your feet if you move!” Tom exclaimed with wide eyes, “you can’t get hurt we need to return you to your mom the same as we got you!”

Without warning Chris (Evans) ran over to you, making sure to carefully avoid the glass panes. “I’m not getting sued for this shit” he muttered as he picked you up and brought you over to a corner, which was a safe distance away from the wreckage.

“Alright, this has gotten out of hand,” Mark ran a hand through his hair, as he surveyed the broken glass on the floor in distress. Elizabeth nodded. You made eye contact with Scarlett and Anthony, who very clearly didn’t share the same concern that Mark and Elizabeth did. You all giggled quietly.

“But uh, let’s take advantage of the situation, eh?” Chris (Hemsworth) pulled a couple bags of doritos out of the broken vending machine, “Free doritos?” He shook the bags playfully. There was a moment where people seemed to question whether they prioritized their dignity of the free doritos, and it’s fair to say that a large number of them chose the doritos.

You all went back to the movie room, collapsing on your mattresses and blankets, with your snacks. But before any of you could begin to focus on the movie once again, a sudden gasp broke out from across the room. “He has the last bag of Doritos!”

“No I don’t” Hemsworth was quick to deny Elizabeth’s claim but everyone could see the full bag that he had attempted to stuff under his blanket. All of a sudden, Scarlett leapt out of her sleeping bag, trying to reach the chips before he did, but unfortunately all the gym workouts he had been going to (or yoga lessons you weren’t really sure) were paying off, as he held the woman at bay so he could grab the snack and hold it far out of her reach.

“Give it” she grunted and tried to reach past his grip and take the chips for herself, but before she had a chance, Chris (Evans) jumped up from his spot over by Tom and snatched the bag from him, holding a victorious grin on his face. Chris (Hemsworth) pouted angrily at his costar, not bothering to fight back as he knew it would be a losing battle (he was captain America for Christ’s sake). But you had a trick up your sleeve, you wanted those chips and you were going to get them whether it was the last thing you did.

Picking up the pillow beside you, you held it up as a shield as ran forward as fast as you could, taking in the confused expression Chris held in his face before you smashed into his stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs but unfortunately, not his.

He chuckled deeply as you smashed back into the wooden floors groaning as the pain surged through you. “I don’t think that worked as well as you thought it would” Mark commented from his comfortable spot on his mattress.

“No, it really didn’t”

The movie ended, and slowly but surely people started going to bed. There were yawns and stretches around you all bundled together on the floor. You too found yourself growing tired, stuffing yourself into your sleeping bag and getting comfortable.

“Goodnight!” you murmured and those who were awake mumbled it back drowsily. You distinctly heard Sebastian mutter back to you from his sleeping bag “shut up, I’m tired”. You chuckled for the last time that night, as soon sleep overcame you.

Then, at the the buttcrack of dawn, a scream came from the nearest entrance: “WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK-”

And that was the inspiring story of how body searches became a daily routine on set, so the Russos could make sure no one had gotten their grubby hands on an extra key.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906 @tamayakii

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x teen!reader #sebastian stan x daughter!reader #chris evans x reader #anthony mackie x reader #mark ruffalo x reader #chris hemsworth x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #Tom Hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x teen!reader #robert downey jr. x reader #marvel cast x reader #mcu cast x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader

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fuzzfuzzywritings · 3 years

Text

Reunion |Dean Winchester x Mom! Reader|

Anon: Can I request Dean Winchester? X reader?. He breaks up with her a few years ago before he starts the whole hunting thing? And like? reader finds out she’s pregnant and the baby is his but never tells him, so once their son reaches 6-years-old? They run into each other when Y/n discovers something bad about her home? And later it’s all fluff-?-! Thank you!!

Note: S/n (Son’s Name). This took a lot of turns, Please forgive me if this wasn’t living to anyone’s expectations. This is like, my first time writing for Supernatural so...

The girl had embraced the smell of the bar, the liquor burning her throat and sending a very intensive taste into her mouth. Eyes roaming around as she waited for the return of her boyfriend. Dean Winchester. The two met from a bar hopping night which was eventful for them both, after a nice one night together. Dean couldn’t get enough of the girl, she was too addicting so the two became more than a hookup. They became a couple with much love and care in the world. Nothing about them would change, Y/n wanted to believe it as well as Dean did. She remembers when he explained his childhood when she finally believed him, he took pride upon it. Yet, Dean hadn’t found the courage to admit something to her, something he was hiding.

3 weeks ago, Dean wanted to set out in search for his father, wanting to get Sam to join him. The job was far too dangerous for someone like Y/n. He didn’t wanna risk her safety, her life, her. And yet, he hadn’t told her, leaving her to believe he would be by her all the time. Poor Y/n, how clueless she was sitting at a bar waiting for him to come back some time soon. But he didn’t. His seat remained empty and her glass remained empty after each refill.

“That’s enough for me. Thank you,” Y/n finally spoke up as she stood from her seat, grabbing her phone and wallet.

She walked outside, nothing but the cool breeze, night sky, stars, and full moon remained. Ringing Dean again, attempting to reach his number. Each ring went by, each call remained failed. So she gave it one last attempt, finally, he picked up.

“Hello?” he spoke. His voice coming out more quiet and bothered.

She had taken notice in her boyfriend’s change of behavior, she took notice in the way he answered the phone. He’s always calling her pet names to make her cringe as she would laugh but the only thing she got was a simple and boring, Hello. This was nothing like her Dean but would she be so wrong for questioning him?.

“Where are you?” she slurred slightly, the feeling of heavy liquor setting over her. “You were supposed to be back an hour ago”.

Her voice couldn’t sound demanding and intimidating, instead. Her voice came out soft and sad, the shakiness remaining. Dean’s heart wrenched tightly at the tone she gave him. He knew he fucked up, he knew he was in the wrong.

“I’m on my way just sit tight” he said before hanging up. Causing the girl too groan in frustration. Removing her heels from her aching feet, she sat on the steps to the bar. Allowing the breeze to hit her exposed skin, watching people enter and exit the bar. She hated it. Her and Dean would bicker but it was nothing like him to leave her alone in a bar. He was always protective over her, not allowing a drunk to put his filthy hands on her but he left her alone and stranded. She felt as if she was the issue, she couldn’t help but live in her thoughts.

‘What if he’s fallen out of love?’

It was a common thought in her mind but her thinking was interrupted by a car pulling up. She thanked the heavens, it was Dean. He got out as he walked up to her. The sight of her being tipsy and upset bothered him, Dean wasn’t immune to seeing her so upset since they had been the happy and cheerful couple.

“Let’s get you home” he suggested before picking her up, all she could do was lean into his touch, this is what she craved. Yet it was like he didn’t crave her, almost like he didn’t bother. He opened the door to his car, gently placing her in the passenger seat before closing it. Going to the drivers side, she leaned her head against the cold glass, her eyes roaming the somewhat blurry lights.

“Are you leaving me?” she suddenly asked out loud. Dean stopped what he was doing, staring at her. He could tell her question was slurred but it wasn’t drunk feelings that would past by. It was her genuine concern.

“What gave you that idea?” he asked her, had she found out so soon this was gonna happen?. She shook her head and looked at him, her eyes were cold and bitter. He stared back at her before putting his foot on the peddle, she leaned against the window again. His eyes scanning the road.

The silence was visible, unspoken tension in the air, the bitter and all too familiar feeling circled them. “You won’t speak to me about anything when it comes to our future, I told you I wanted us to settle down, get married, You can continue the hunting job, I don’t care but I was open and honest when you asked me what I wanted, I said I wanted this relationship to be forever. So what are you not telling me?” she explained and questioned him, she was expressive about her feelings. But she knew he had more to speak about.

“We’ll talk when we get back home” He said playing it off. She only hummed in response, her heart aching at his words. Brushing her off like she was just some child. Like her feelings didn’t matter, she felt useless to the situation. They built a home together. A nice comfortable apartment, they called it home. So where could she be going wrong?.

The two exited the car, entering the comfortable apartment that smelled like comfort lavender. The scented candles making the apartment smell fresh, the warmth of home overtaking her. As she walked to the bedroom, her eyes stopped upon a packed bag. Nothing could process, she was far too scared of reaching inside to find out what it could be. Yet she acted as if she hadn’t spotted it, walking past it, turning a blind eye.

“Can we talk before you shower?” Dean asked. She nodded her head, as she put her phone and wallet on the bed. Walking into the living room, she sat on the couch beside him. Dean hadn’t looked too happy about this talk.

“I...Wanna break up with you...” he said suddenly. His words processing in her mind, nothing made sense. She had so many questions but only asking a few would be the best choice for her.

“Are you falling out of love with me?” she asked. God, she hated how desperate she sounded. All she asked was for an honest answer but Dean couldn’t reveal the truth. Not to her.

“Yes...there’s someone else in this life for you but it’s not me...I’ve been wanting to tell you for 3 weeks now but I couldn’t find the courage, but please this is nothing against you. You know I love you” he said.

Her eyes became glossy, shaking her head, a small and fake laugh left her mouth.

“Love me? If you loved me, you wouldn’t be leaving me alone. You knew I wanted a life and you decided to be a selfish asshole? I’m done!. I’ve given you everything, I thought for once someone loved me! Seems you’re like all of them...a worthless bastard. I want you out of my house before I get out of the shower” her words were laced with venom.

Dean couldn’t explain himself, all he could do was watch the girl leave and slam the bathroom door shut. He couldn’t cry in front of her, he only silently took his bag before looking back one last time. Closing the door behind him. Meanwhile, she cried in the bathroom, breaking down into a depressive scream. She wanted to just run after him but she felt so alone. She felt caved in.

The next morning, She felt numb as if nothing in the world mattered, throwing up into the toilet as her head leaned against her head. Nothing could process her mind, had she of been sick from the liquor? she didn’t have too much. She had small shots but that’s it. Suddenly she remembered, when she had to eat something, it wouldn’t settle with her stomach, whenever she would crave something her taste, she would feel sick. She wanted to find reasons but all of it boiled down into pregnancy.

Had she of been drinking while pregnant? she had hoped this wasn’t true. Quickly she remembered the pregnancy test her and Dean bought a few months ago. They assumed she was pregnant and bought multiple kits to find out. Thankfully she wasn’t at the time but that didn’t stop them from any sexual intercourse. So it would make sense.

She grabbed the pink and white stick, quickly opening it before putting it to use. Her mind remained worried, nothing could be thought of except the words in her mind. ‘Please don’t be pregnant, please don’t be pregnant, please!’.

Time passed, finally she looked at it, her hands shaking as her mind felt torn. Reading the test nothing flashed at her but those two lines. She reached for her phone, quickly scrolling down the call log. She needed to tell Dean. Once she reached his name, her mind flashed back to last night. Now she questioned if calling him would be a good idea. Sighing softly. She shook her head. Instead she clicked his contact, erasing his number.

Dialing in a phone number, a soft voice spoke on the other end of the line. She smiled at the grateful voice of her mother. Screaming about the results, she was happy. Explaining the story while also covering up the small hint of sadness from last night’s events. Yet her mom had told her it was only right to admit to Dean. She figured that her mom was correct but she needed time. Maybe they could makeup in the process.

-2 Weeks Later-

With lots of thought and practice, she prepared herself to tell Dean, of course she had to find him which she did, at a bar. Of course, The two had sat in silence, it was quiet, both of their hearts ached at the sight of each other. Yet Dean wanted to keep his cool, he was going to make sure that he didn’t break, not in front of her.

“So what brought you here?” he asked her, she cleared her throat. “It’s important,” she said. He hummed in response, waiting for her to continue.

“After you left, I found out the next day that-” Y/n was cut off by a woman walking towards them.

She sat on Dean’s lap, glaring at Y/n who sat across from them. She had no intentions on being there for a hang out. Which Dean had caught on when she acted odd around him, she would always order the strongest liquor she could handle but all she had was water. He also picked up on her playing with her thumbs, this came as no surprise that he could tell when something was wrong with her. He wanted to pull her in his arms and comfort her but he fought the urge.

“Whose this?” the woman asked. Y/n gave her a gentle and fake smile, she felt uncomfortable with her sitting on his lap. She felt childish for letting this effect her since she simply was nothing more than a one night. Of course, people never change. Y/n wanted to believe he did. He leaves her and here he is, sitting down with someone else.

“I’m Y/n-” The woman clapped her hands, interrupting Y/n from speaking. “His ex, I heard about you. Nothing surprising to see you come crawling back to what’s mine,” she spoke, she was smug about it, she was careless. Y/n could admit she was dumb to believe her and Dean would be more. She was a hookup, She was just someone he could sleep with and leave. She was nothing. Y/n wanted to do it, yet she bit her tongue, saving herself a fight.

“You know what? I’ll be on my way,” Y/n rolled her eyes. She stood up, leaving. Dean waved at her with a smile but when she walked out, his smile left. He removed the girl from his lap, sending a glare at her. “You are nothing else, You are nothing more, Don’t ever, overstep your line and talk to her in such a way. I love her, I’m leaving,” Dean said as he grabbed his keys and Jacket. Leaving the bar, his eyes focused on her figure getting into the back of a car, there she was. Leaving again, he felt like he deserved it, he did leave her and he felt like he had to live with that forever. Yet it hurt Y/n because now he will never know...He’s gonna be a dad.

1st month\

‘I can’t do this on my own..’

It was stressful, Eventually Y/n needed help leaving, Moving into a better and comfortable home. She came in contact with Bobby, He was happy to hear the news, He viewed Y/n like family. He cared for her, so whenever she needed anything he was there. He was the same person who helped Y/n move out of her apartment and into a home in a nice small town. He made sure she was okay and safe at all times.

2nd month

‘I have to push through this’

Y/n despised the 2nd month of pregnancy, the feeling was all too well. Sleepless nights, she had wished she had Dean by her side or someone to comfort her on these nights and help her. But she knew she had to push through this, she was going to be alone with a child anyway.

3rd month

‘Where is he?’

Housework as a pregnant woman came with responsibilities like fixing up her sons room. She pushed through it knowing she had to do it alone. She missed having Dean but he didn’t want her. She missed his jokes and the way he would comfort her. Now he wasn’t there and she was stuck figuring out how fixing up a home worked.

4th month

‘Home stretch’

The 4th month passed, it was no surprise that Y/n had gotten along with her neighbors. She loved it, they would always help and invite her whenever. She felt at home, The house was silent but it was home. She believed it herself.

5th month

‘My son’

Y/n opened the gifts sent from friends, family, and given to her by her neighbors. Celebrating the baby shower rather later than usual. She thanked them, although she would get questions about the father, where he was, who he was. She didn’t answer them. She felt if he cared, he would’ve stayed.

6th month

‘Pains’

It was no surprise the mother would find herself up at night with pains. In fact they would become so unbearable she wouldn’t sleep at all. It’s nights she wished she had him with her. Nights she wished Dean was there to assure her that she’ll be okay.

7th month

‘Growth’

Y/n smiled as she had grown to move past Dean, She knew she would always love him. There was no doubt about it. Yet this is what was best for her and this is what she found out would be the better judgement for them both. If she had let go.

8th month

‘Almost okay’

The death of bobby, spotting Dean again with Sam. It became hard for her, she leaned her back against the cold surface of the wall. tears streaming down her face, throwing herself and the baby into stress. She needed a way to be okay. She knew she had to be for her son.

9th month

‘Labor’

Sweat plastered the young mother’s forehead, the baby asleep beside her in his own bed, wrapped in a beautiful blue blanket. Her eyes had felt heavy. She smiled as she looked beside her son. She named him. ‘S/n Winchester’.

-Few years later-

“So what’s the point of going to this house again?” Sam asked Dean. The two brothers had been on their way after they got some information about a home that seemed to hold some type of evil in it. “Well, you heard the old lady, She mentioned the home was owned by a mother and son? Maybe they would have some answers that could connect to this town?” Dean said. Sam only hummed in response. “Yeah but what if the mom and son were bad people?” Sam questioned. Dean rolled his eyes and turned up the radio. Ignoring Sam and his conspiracy theories.

The brothers had soon pulled up to the home, it was a big home, no wonder the mom and son had bought the place. Dean and Sam got out of the car before walking, approaching the boy playing in the yard. “Hey, is your parents around?” Sam asked. The boy looked between them before shaking his head. “My dad left my mom before I was born, I think my mom is inside the house right now” he said. Dean nodded his head. “Can you go get her for us?” Dean asked. The young boy nodded his head as he ran inside.

Sam chuckled before lightly slapping Dean on the shoulder. “Kid kind of looks like you,” he said. Dean shook his head. “Not at all” he denied it. Yet, He knew Sam had a point, the child did favor him in someway. Was it the nose?, The eyes?, maybe it was the lips?. He couldn’t really piece together why the boy looked like him but he decided not to think into it too much. Suddenly the door opened, Y/n froze in her spot. Her eyes widening. “Dean?” she spoke. “Y/n?”. The two stared at each other before Sam looked between them. “This is going to be...awkward”.

...

“Sorry for the wait, I had to make sure that the kitchen mess S/n made was clean” Y/n explained. She sat at the table, Dean had looked at her. “So...I’m guessing you’ve moved on?” he questioned. She rolled her eyes. “As if it’s a concern to you, you left me, can’t forget the skank at the bar” she said. Sam cleared his throat, looking over at the kid. “This is going to be very awkward” he said. S/n nodded his head. “Guys, We’re not here for this?” Sam said loudly. Yet Y/n and Dean were still bickering, ignoring Sam’s pleads. Sam sighed before looking over at the kid. “So how old are you?” he asked. S/n smiled. “I just turned 6 a few days ago” The little boy chimed. Sam chuckled and wished him a happy birthday.

The bickering between the two were strong and it hadn’t stopped, until the lights went out. Y/n groaned in annoyance. “Again? Bring me the flashlight from upstairs” Y/n told her Son. He nodded his head and rushed upstairs, Sam and Dean looking at the silhouette of Y/n. “Why are you two looking at me? We have bad electric here?” she commented. “No. Actually, We came cause a lot of people are disappearing from your town, some found alive and some not. Everyone that lives here keeps disappearing and being found somewhere else or not being found at all...So we think your house might have something in it” Dean explained. She keeps silent before nodding her head in agreement.

“Actually, S/n has mentioned seeing some type of Shadow at night? He said that he seen it when he was going to the bathroom. At first I thought he was crazy but he was right...there is something here...we don’t know what it is or what to do...” She frowned. Sam raised a brow before standing up. “I’ll get one of my flashlights and check outside, I’m sure there’s something outside in the back” he said. Dean and Y/n sat in silence before Dean spoke. “So the kid? He’s biologically yours?” he asked. Y/n nodded her head. “S/n was born and raised by me so far” she said wanting to avoid this topic.

“Where’s the dad?” he asked. Y/n bit her bottom lip. “In front of me...” she trailed off. Dean stopped for a moment before pointing at himself. “Are you...are you saying...you had OUR child?” he questioned still not processing it. She hummed. “When you left, I found out the next day, I didn’t tell you until my mother convinced me, the night I met you at the bar, I went there to tell you but you had some company, so I just left without telling you...I was selfish for it, I was wrong...and I’m sorry” she apologized. Dean frowned but knowing him, he wouldn’t show the look of shock, enjoyment, or sadness on his face.

“So you kept me in the dark? How old is he?” he asked. “6 years old” she said. Before he could say anything else, a scream from upstairs made both of the parents jump in action. They called out to him but no response, Y/n opened the door to find her son shaking in the corner of the room. The lights come back on. “S/n, Honey what happened?” she asked as she pulled him in her lap. Dean’s eyes soften before bending down. “It tried to take me” he cried. Y/n looked at Dean. “How about? you guys stay in a hotel? Let me and Sam handle this?” he asked. Y/n nodded her head.

1 week

The mom and son had went to get breakfast every morning with Sam and Dean at a small diner in town. The group would laugh and conversate often at the diner. It didn’t take them long before they all grew close.

2 weeks

Within week 2, Y/n explained and revealed to her son who his dad was, he was shocked but finally warmed up to the idea of it. Sam often found himself going places with his nephew.

3 weeks

Within 3 weeks, they had finally caught on to something in Y/n’s home, planning ahead of time how things are going to go.

. . .

Y/n stood in her house, it was around 9 PM when the brothers decided it was best to go ahead with their plan. Of course Y/n and Dean still bickered but had to work together for the sake of a safe home for S/n. “So what’s the plan?” Y/n asked Sam. He sighed. “Well, the shadow seems attached to something in this house, Whatever was in here belongs to the soul that’s attached, So we’re gonna burn anything that could belong to them without having to get rid of the home” he explained.

Dean had looked back at his son who was standing beside him, he wanted to help them and Dean said it was dangerous. Finally though he decided to let him help but he gave him strict rules. “Let get’s started” Dean said.

The four begin to walk around the home, searching around the area of what could belong to the soul attached to the family’s home. Everyone went their separate ways, S/n knew he wasn’t supposed to split from his father but he did exactly that. He walked over to the open attic, checking inside of it, moving his flashlight around. “So much junk” the kid mumbled. Sam walked the halls, checking every small detail. He felt like something was valued for the figure to stick around in the home.

He pointed his flashlight at the dark figure only for it to disappear. Moving the flashlight back down the figure showed. His eyes widen as a sudden strong gust of wind knocking him back, folding the ladder to the attic. S/n’s eyes widen as he ran over, the child slammed his fist against it, screaming for help. “Hold on!” Sam yelled. Before he could stand the glass vase flew at him, hitting him in the back, Sam groaned in pain as he attempted once again to get the child. Dean and Y/n ran towards the noise. “Where’s S/n?” the mother asked.

Sam pointed to the attic as she felt panic overtake her. “It won’t let me get him...It wants something to do with S/n” Sam explained. Dean furrowed his brows. “Get S/n, me and Sam can take it from here” he said with concern laced in his voice. S/n backed up from the attic as he noticed something coming closer, his foot hitting something, knocking it back. He begin to hiss in pain as he realized it was glass. S/n squeezed his eyes shut as his back hit the wall, shining the light. The sudden figure was gone, he knew if he had light, it couldn’t do anything.

Y/n quickly opened the attic entrance. “S/n” She called out. Her son coming into frame as he hid all the panic in his face. His leg bleeding as he started to climb down. The figure quickly pushed S/n off the ladder, sending him to hit the wall, blood trickling down his face. His body unconscious. Y/n called out moving towards her son, only for the figure to throw her back. Her head hitting the glass vase, her eyes were in and out of focus. Sam rushed and grabbed S/n, moving him outside in the car before coming back. “We have to set this place on fire...it’s the only way we can get rid of this” Sam stated. Dean nodded in agreement.

Y/n attempted to stand as she held her head. “Fine” She said. Y/n limped as she helped Sam pour gasoline inside the home. Sam started the fire before him and Dean walked out. Y/n behind them. As she went to walk out, the door slammed shut, causing the brothers to turn back and rush towards the door. It wouldn’t budge, Y/n was dragged back against the wall, she felt helpless, like she would die this way. And she never got a chance to make things right with Dean.

Tears filled her eyes as she sat in defeat. Dean cussed under his breath before removing his jacket. “Where are you going?” Sam asked. Dean looked back at his brother. “To get my woman” he said before going around the home. He breaks the window, wincing lightly before he climbed through. He rushed as he peeked through the flames, finding Y/n. He rushed over, she was in and out. “Y/n, don’t close your eyes yet okay? We’re gonna get you out of this” he said as he held her against him. “Dean, What are you doing? Aren’t you going to leave me to die? like you walked out of my life....you shouldn’t care” she coughed. Dean shook his head. “I did it to protect you, I didn’t wanna harm you with this lifestyle, I knew it would get worse but I realized, I do love you, Y/n I’ve been in love with you. I’ve never stopped, and I’m not stopping now” he said as tears fell down his face.

He coughed as he picked up Y/n, rushing to the door and kicking it open. The two rushed away from the home before anything could explode. Y/n watched her home burn to the ground before her vision became black and foggy.

Y/n’s vision came into place, the machine beeping as she looked around, S/n was sleeping peacefully in his bed. His breathing seeming fine, a cast on his leg. She raised up only to be met with a worried Sam and Dean. “Y/n, are you okay?” Sam asked. Dean rolled his eyes. “If she was do you think we’d be here?” he said. Sam ignored his brother. “Is it over?” She asked. Dean nodded his head along with Sam. “It is, Sam’s been worrying over you both, it was a little annoying” Dean said causing her to let out a small laugh. “You were just crying about them” Sam exposed Dean. The two didn’t bicker any further, not wanting to disturb S/n’s rest.

“I’ll leave you guys to talk, I’m gonna see if a doctor is available” Sam said as he got up from his spot. Walking out the door, closing it behind him. Dean placed his hand on her forehead. “You kicked ass” he chuckled. “You did too” She said. The two sat in silence a bit before Dean spoke. “So what are you going to do now?” he asked. She frowned at his question. Their home is gone, what can she do now?.

“I’m not even sure. I don’t know what I’m gonna do” she said. Dean had cleared his throat. “I was hoping...you would accept joining me and Sam? I don’t wanna miss out on S/n’s life or yours, I actually, I wanna be with you and I’m hoping you’ll want the same” he said. Dean hadn’t ever been big on expressing his feelings or the truth. Yet Y/n loved that about him, when he would speak with her about his feelings.

She smiled softly. “Anything for you Dean Winchester” she smiled. Dean smiled before pulling her in a kiss, S/n waking up from his rest. “Nice to see someone else awake, your mother and I have some news” Dean said as he walked over, ruffling S/n hair.

-3 months later-

Dean sat in the drivers seat, waiting for Y/n to return, S/n and Sam had been chatting in the backseat. He tapped his hand on the wheel, playing with his ring a bit. Y/n soon walked out before she got in the car. “I got snacks cause why not” She chuckled as she handed the bag to Sam. “What was taking you so long?” Dean asked. Y/n smiled as she placed a kiss on his cheek. “No need to pressure me Mr. Winchester. You Winchester’s are impatient” she said playfully.

Dean started the car as he looked over at Y/n. “You married me so that means you are too” He chuckled. She playfully slapped his hand as he started driving. The four of them chatting in the car.

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 3 years

Text

1 Oct. Suptober: Harvest

"Going to have a proper harvest for once," she said. The other witch laughed in agreement. "Think of the price we'll fetch for pure angel grace."

post-15x09 au snippetfic; deancas, samwena

"Get the fuck away from him," Cas rasped, and it was the swear as much as the simple fact of Cas being alive that caused Dean to gasp and open his eyes.

He'd screwed them shut in anticipation of a killing blow that never landed. The witch had reeled around and away from Dean toward Cas, and the dagger in her hand glinted in the one of bar of light that was piercing through the boarded up basement window.

Dungeon window, more like. Cave window. The darkness made it difficult to determine where exactly Cas was in relation to Dean. A few feet away? Way on the other side of the room, maybe still half slumped against the spiderwebbed stone wall? Dean tried, and failed, to stand. Something was oozing into his right eye; his legs wobbled like the floor was made of bouncy house.

"Cas," he said once without the sound reaching his own ears. He fell backwards, wooden slats splintering on his weight.

In the dusty beam, the tip of Cas's angel blade blazed like a falling star that blinked out as the second witch holding it stalked into the dark again.

Dean heard her guttered low cackle, as though she were a radio station the dial had finally properly tuned. His whole body went cold.

"Going to have a proper harvest for once," she said. The other witch laughed in agreement. "Think of the price we'll fetch for pure angel grace."

"And feathers," the other crowed, before beginning a frantic chant in a language Dean did not recognize.

"Feathers, yessss." The witch's hiss poured like venom into Dean's veins.

His eyes had adjusted only enough to see the angel blade raised high, and, somehow, the shadow of Cas's wings spread singed and mangled on the wall.

"Or perhaps both wings."

No, Dean thought. No, no, no, no. Please, no.

"We can hack them off at the--"

She'd stopped talking because her head was whizzing past Dean's own. He might have yelped in the effort to dodge it. Overhead fluorescent light banged into the room. Rowena stood in the door, arm raised like she was hoisting an invisible car over a fence; the witch who still had a head had crumpled to the ground. Sam stood over the beheaded body, breathing heavily and wild eyed as a banshee, small sword still aloft dripping red.

The witch on the floor squeaked once, like a mouse stepped on by a particularly pointed heel, and fell silent.

From beneath her now unmoving form, what seemed like a mere pool of ink spread and spread until it almost touched Dean's boot.

He couldn't catch his breath. The room was quiet like a roar and he could not stand up. He thought to rub at the wetness in his eye and found the substance was sticky. Pressing harder made fire race into his eye socket and up his temple.

Sam was moving towards him, weapon thrown down with a clatter, but Cas arrived first, his face, wracked with fear and dappled with blood across his cheekbone, swimming into view as he knelt.

If his was the last face Dean was ever to see, Dean could take some comfort in it. He refused to close his eyes again.

"Hey, buddy," Dean said, smiling lopsided and rueful.

Cas's hand fell to cup Dean's jaw like a blessing; it turned out Dean was lying down, though Dean had no memory of seeking earth.

Cas's other thumb rubbed across Dean's forehead like he was tracing runes onto Dean's skin. Dean felt something crackle beneath his bones: for a split-second, his heart stopped, suspended in pain. The next second was like being punched out of a cannon -- he sat up and nearly knocked his newly healed skull directly into Cas's.

"Dean," Cas breathed in relief despite the pallor of his complexion and the way his hands shook as they pulled away from Dean. Then: "Thank you," he told Sam, who nodded and hauled him to his feet by the elbows before reaching to do the same for Dean.

Sam patted Dean on the shoulder. Rowena stepped around the puddle of witch and grinned her smug grin.

Cas looked at Dean like he might vanish and Dean returned the stare until he had to look away or… Or.

There was crimson on the sleeve of Cas's trench, in a crease.

Rowena and Sam collected the angel blade, the dagger, the gory sword. Dean collected himself. He followed Cas's heavier than usual trudge up the stairs and into the coming dusk. The ache of wanting to gather Cas into his arms followed him all the way back to the motel.

In the other room, Sam was talking to Jack on the phone while Rowena hooted. Well, that's what it sounded like she was doing anyway, and since there was a child in the mix, albeit a twenty-something toddler who was 90 miles away, hooting was by far the least concerning noise she could have been making.

Not that Dean in any way was going to ponder what other sounds she might choose to unleash in a room also containing his brother. He sat on the edge of the bed nearest the bathroom and stared at the three jack o'lantern sized pumpkins that he and Cas had bought at a roadside stand a few hours before the case went witch-shaped. He envisioned the pumpkins with toothy grins and chose not to think about anything else with such effort it was a miracle he wasn't carving the gourds psychically.

Cas came out of the bathroom sans trenchcoat -- which was to say, almost naked -- and with a clean face. He sat down beside Dean carefully. "How are you feeling?" He looked at Dean with soft eyes, like Dean was the only concern worth voicing.

After a moment, Cas sighed into the space Dean was supposed to have filled.

"I guess," Dean started. He gave his own sigh. "We've fixed a lot of things, recently, haven't we?"

Cas tipped his head, waiting for Dean to continue.

"Like. Chuck's out there. But. Jack has his soul. Rowena isn't dead. You don't have a deal with the freakin Empty dogging your heels bad as a pack of hellhounds." Dean curled his fingers like his hands were going to betray him somehow; his throat felt full of glass. "You gotta stop saving me, man."

Cas took a breath like Dean had struck him. A variety of memories of actually hitting Cas -- blood crisscrossing, bruises blooming -- flashed through Dean so quickly he almost retched.

He was trying to keep his mouth closed and his treacherous stomach obedient when Cas said, "You cannot ask me not to help when I can still help."

"You're the one who said I wasn't listening about your powers--" He held up a hand against the protest he could see Cas about to make. "And you were right. I dunno what to do about it, but I know you havin' to heal my dumb ass nine times a week isn't makin' things better."

Dean could see Cas's eyes were wet.

The shards in Dean's throat made it hard to speak. "You're worth more to us, to me, than just what you can do as a powered-up angel." He nudged Cas's knee with his own. "You know that, right? Not that I'm not grateful as hell for you fixing me up tonight, 'cause I am. Grateful, I mean."

He looked at Cas, whose exhaustion seemed to be draped around him like a cloak. Dean was tired too, and not just from the major brain injury he'd sustained earlier. He’d wasted so much time not saying certain things, not letting certain things happen; he’d protected the wrong things, maybe, or maybe the right thing the wrong ways.

Maybe he could blame lingering effects, illusory or otherwise, on what he chose to do next.

Cas, he prayed, you might have died tonight. We… I. I almost lost you again.

A prayer continued, whispered: Please let me hold you.

Beside him, Cas startled, looked over at him. Searched Dean's eyes and shook his head just a little, as though he could not believe what he'd heard -- as though having hoped, but misheard, was too agonizing a possibility to endure.

"Please," Dean said, sliding an arm around Cas's back, sliding himself closer on the mattress until he'd vanished the space between them.

Cas turned into Dean's arms. "I almost lost you again tonight too." His voice brimmed with tears. He hooked his chin over Dean's shoulder and Dean soothed his hands over the blades of Cas's shoulders. He thought of the shadow of those majestic, tattered wings, and held on more tightly.

He and Cas rested like that, trembling, for what seemed like an hour or more, neither of them willing to let go. When sitting upright became less comfortable, they reclined together on top of the polyester comforter patterned in pinecones. Cas tucked himself into the hollow of Dean's body, as though he had done it before somewhere other than in Dean's imagination. Dean pressed his face into Cas's soft hair and let his eyes burn as they would.

None of it solved anything; it was simply more right than anything Dean had felt in a very long time.

#spn #fic #deancas #suptober21 #suptober #destiel

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stiltonbasket · 3 years

Note

A couple little prompts for the soulmate au: How does the post-resurrection reunion between Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning go? And how would the Twin Jades react to seeing him again and learning the Jins kept him prisoner for years?

the reunion between wwx/wen ning doesn’t differ significantly from canon, so take some twin jades reacting to it!

---

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji entreats, as his brother sits frozen on the floor across from him. “Wen Ning was seen by over a hundred cultivators including myself. I am not mistaken.”

“I was not doubting you, Wangji,” Xichen says quietly, motioning to the open door. Lan Wangji obeys the mute instruction and slides the door shut, sinking down on the mat by the tea table while Lan Xichen stares into his white-jade cup; the ropy scar skirting his brother’s hairline is more evident than ever at this angle, starker and paler than the scar at his breast from Nie Mingjue’s dao, and the sight of it brings Lan Wangji back to Qiongqi Road all over again.

“Jin Guangshan said that Wen Ning had been slain. Burned, and his ashes scattered,” Lan Xichen murmurs. “So that too was a lie.”

Lan Wangji pours him another cup of tea. “What did Lianfang-zun say on the matter?”

“A-Yao? He was not present then, I believe. It was he who discovered Jin Zixun had taken our cultivators, and he sought Jin Zixuan out in the hopes that he could keep his cousin from attacking Young Master Wei. And after he heard that we had been wounded, he came to the Cloud Recesses.”

Though he has little reason to think in such a way, Lan Wangji is rarely sympathetic to his brother’s fondness for Jin Guangyao. If Jin Guangyao had not informed Jin Zixuan about the ambush on Qiongqi Road, Jin Zixuan would never have died, and Wei Ying would have lived; and if he had not obeyed his father’s orders and led a force of Jin cultivators upon the Burial Mounds, Lan Wangji would never have had to stand against them all to protect A-Yuan. And if his own clan elders had not been summoned to bring him back home―again, upon Jin Guangyao’s request―Lan Wangji would not have been forced to fight them off, or submit to the discipline whip to atone for his transgression.

Jin Guangyao might never have intended any of that to happen, but it had happened all the same, and Lan Wangji has never forgiven him for it. He will especially never forget the fact that Jin Guangyao was the one at his brother’s side when Jingyi was born, because Nie Mingjue was dead and buried and Lan Wangji was still too frail after the whipping to leave his bed for longer than ten minutes at a time.

“Wangji?”

“Mm?”

“Where is Wen Ning now?” his brother asks. “You said that he seemed to have lost his intelligence, but perhaps your intended could bring him back again?”

Lan Wangji winces, and the light in his xiongzhang’s eyes dims a little in concern. “A-Zhan? What’s wrong?”

“Wei Ying has not―” His lungs tighten, and he feels a single tear roll down his cheek as Lan Xichen gets up and hurries around the table to clasp his shoulder. “He has not spoken of our betrothal at all. And he has not accepted a single touch or kind word from me, even though he knows I―that I still―that I have never stopped loving―”

His brother’s hands drop back to his sides. “What?”

It takes a while for Lan Wangji to recount the events of the past two days, beginning with how Wei Ying fled from him in Mo Village and then attempted to do so again at the hunt on Dafan Mountain. He skips the part where Jingyi fought with Jin Rulan and silenced him for his rudeness towards Sizhui (the poor child already has a month’s worth of punishments waiting for him, since he should have known better than to push a fellow night-hunter into a cave without knowing what was in it) but then he tells his brother about Wangxian, and how Wei Ying had played it aloud without caring that the song was theirs, before running away and denying his identity until Lan Wangji unmasked him in the jingshi.

“He no longer wants me,” he chokes. “There is no betrothal, Xiongzhang. Not anymore.”

“Did he say so?” Lan Xichen says gently. “Wangji, you must not jump to conclusions before he has spoken. And depending on how long it has been since Mo-gongzi resurrected him, he may not yet have recovered from the time he spent believing that he had killed you.”

“He knows I do not blame him,” gasps Lan Wangji. “The last thing I asked of Wen Ning, that day―I begged him to protect Wei Ying in my stead, and they both heard!”

“Yes, and then he died, after Jin Guangshan raised an army against him in the mistaken belief that we were dead,” his brother reminds him. “Or else he lied outright, since he clearly did not burn Wen Qionglin as he said he did. The first thing we must do is find out what Wen-gongzi remembers of the last sixteen years, and where he was before Wei Wuxian summoned him.”

Slightly shamed by his outburst, Lan Wangji inclines his head. He knows a little of what his beloved must have suffered during the siege, though only through the meager pieces of gossip he heard after Wei Ying’s death; there were no Lan or Nie cultivators at Bu Ye Tian, and even Jin Guangyao could not tell Xichen much because he was tasked with protecting his father instead of pursuing Wei Ying.

“Very well,” he hears himself say. “Wei Ying and I will set out to search for Wen Qionglin after he has rested, and in the meantime I will send A-Yi to give you his report.”

Lan Xichen’s lips quirk up into a smile. “There is no need,” he laughs, before tilting his chin at the door. “A-Yi, baobei, come in. Your shufu and I have finished talking about your conduct at Mount Dafan, so there is no need to worry.”

Lan Wangji barely has time to dodge out of the way before a tall figure in white leaps up the hanshi’s porch steps and into his brother’s arms, dancing from foot to foot like a puppy going out for a walk.

“A-Die!” Lan Jingyi cries, squeezing Lan Xichen around the waist. “I can still go on the winter hunt with the Ouyang disciples, right? I don’t have to miss it?”

“Yes, you can,” Lan Xichen says fondly, giving his son a kiss on the forehead. Lan Wangji hides a small grin behind his sleeves, since he knows that his brother’s punishments never sink in with Jingyi; his xiao-shushu Nie Huaisang has been a very lively influence over these last fourteen years, and his indulgence erased any chance of Jingyi learning Lan discipline almost from the day he was born. “As long as you remember not to go running ahead of everyone else again. Promise?”

“Yuan-ge will keep me in line,” Lan Jingyi promises. “A-Die, you should have seen the way he scolded me for trying to fight that young master Mo.”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes in a silent plea for patience―though it fails to have any effect on Jingyi, because the boy is still happily clasped in his father’s arms―and begins a lecture on the virtues of mildness and thinking before speaking, while Lan Wangji slips out of the hanshi with his mood strangely uplifted by his nephew’s exuberance.

Talk to him, Lan Xichen says wordlessly, gazing at him over Jingyi’s head as he takes his leave. You have your beloved back, after all this time. Do not let this chance go by because of a misunderstanding.

A-Zhan, there will be no second chance for me.

For a moment, Lan Wangji wonders at his tactlessness. When his soulmate died, he had the good fortune to fall in love again and build a life with Wei Ying--and now Wei Ying has returned to his side, after leaving the plane of the living for over a decade and a half.

His brother will never be so lucky, and Lan Wangji refuses to squander the good fortune his xiongzhang would have traded his life for: so he marches right back to the jingshi, and resolves to speak his heart to Wei Ying the moment he opens his eyes.

But his resolve does not last the day, because scarcely two shichen and some change later, Lan Xichen discovers that the demonic arm from Mo Village belonged to Nie Mingjue.

#wangxian #nielan #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #soulmate au #my fic

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crimziedrawings · 3 years

Text

I had a Elorcan story that I was really excited about but I've been too busy to actually write it so here, have the outline I created instead. It's a bit choppy, I had the fine details in my head and the outline was just to contain the general points.

The Dead Gods' Blessing (an Elorcan story)

Chapter 1

• Elide/Lorcan wake up, blissfully

• Elide reminds Lorcan that Aelin/Rowan/Fenrys/Vaughn (the gang) are visiting, he is not happy

• Lorcan makes Elide breakfast while she is bathing as a surprise

• They talk about the baby and baby names

• ~ They meet the gang outside the front door because Elide is so excited

• Lorcan's fae-male-protective-bullshit comes out

• Fenrys smirks, Rowan looks a little sad

• Elide reveals the plan for a picnic

• ~They go down to a creek nearby with a nice view

• Elide has to go to the bathroom since the baby is pushing on her bladder

• Chapter ends with Elide screaming

Chapter 2

• Lorcan and the gang runs after Elide

• They don't see her but Vaughn finds blood

• Lorcan freaks out

• Suddenly they see something move and run after it

• A creature has Elide

• They chase it down to a cliff

• The creature scrambles to stop but ultimately falls off

• Lorcan screams and tries to follow

• The Cadre holds him back

• Aelin looks down at the cliff and spots the monster impaled by the rocks, notices a human hand underneath

• Lorcan manages to get away and crawls to the edge, seeing the same as Aelin

• He screams and cries

• The rocks give way and it falls into the water

• Rowan tries to comfort him but fails as Lorcan's grief is so overwhelming that he loses control of his powers

• Aelin tries to use the bond to make Lorcan stop but is interrupted by a whisp of darkness (Lorcan's power)

• Rowan, Aelin, and Vaughn join forces to create a shield around Lorcan

• *Fenrys pov

• It last a long time unless Lorcan passes out

Chapter 3

• Lorcan wakes up in his bed

• He feels heavy and looks over for Elide

• She's not there and he remembers what happened

• He doesn't want to believe it, refuses to and starts to lose control again

• Someone comes in and injects him with something, and all of a sudden he passes out again

• ~ He wakes up again to find Rowan besides him, with red trimmed eyes and looking like a mess

• Lorcan begs "Please... Please tell me it wasn't real, I can't-"

• Rowan reaches over and grasp his shoulder, sad for his brother and says "I'm sorry"

• Lorcan continues to cry and Rowan stays with him

• Lorcan asks "How did you do this? How did you go on, please tell me how"

• Rowan replies "I didn't. I can't ever forget what happened. I spent some time in disbelief. There was a moment where I knew it was the end and I couldn't handle that. I was so close... But then someone showed up at my door. Nearly broke my door, as I recall. He told me that it's gonna hurt but I need to keep going and fight. It's what she would want. You saved me, Lorcan"

• Lorcan says "I was wrong. I did not understand what it was to be in your place. The pain, the loss, it... you lose yourself"

• Rowan says "No, you were right. Because everyday it became a little easier to breathe to the point where I found myself again. In Aelin. I am eternally grateful for your appearance because I got to meet Aelin, my real mate"

• Lorcan screams "there is no one else! There will never be anyone else! Elide is it for me, she will always be the only one. I can't do this, Rowan... it feels like all the air has been taken from me and I can't catch a breath. Elide was all that was good of me. I'm barely alive without her. And barely alive is just suffocating..."

• Rowan looks sad

• Lorcan "And I was going to be a father"

Chapter 4

• Rowan walks in to see Lorcan still in bed (he smells)

• Rowan says he need to get out of bed, he has a city to run

• Lorcan basically has given up

• Rowan talks about how it's Elide's home and his home now too so he has to get up. He also says that he is staying in Perranth for a while.

• Lorcan says he doesn't need a babysitter but gets up anyways

• He goes to take a shower and comes out to open curtains and windows, a made bed, and his clothes laid out

• He knows it was Rowan and rolls his eyes

• He gets changed and looks in the mirror, catching a glance at his ring

• He starts hurting again, but decides to go on "for you, my loves. For both of you..."

• *Rowan's pov*

• Rowan is sad for his brother but is proud of him for making that big step

• He called for a town meeting in the castle's front grounds and is watching as Lorcan steps forward on the balcony

• Lorcan announces that Elide is dead and that he will continue to build Perranth if they will have him

• The town bows, as a sign of acceptance and for Elide

• Rowan knows it's going to be hard being away from Aelin for a while but Fenrys and Vaughn are there, and his brother needs him

Chapter 5

• It is 2 and a half months later

• *Fenrys pov*

• Aelin, Fenrys and Vaughn visit again

• Fenrys and Vaughn walk in first because Aelin got distracted by some cake

• They ask Rowan how Lorcan is, he says that he has his moments but he's been strong for Perranth

• Aelin walks in and there's an explosive reunion between the two so they go off, presumably to a bedroom

• Fenrys and Vaughn walk to the library to find Lorcan there

• They try to talk but Lorcan doesn't want to talk about it

• He instead asks why they're there

• Fenrys responds that they wanted to see their brother

• Lorcan asks for the truth

• Fenrys reveals that they have a mission and that they can't protect Aelin while on the mission so she's staying in Perranth for a while

• Lorcan isn't happy

• ~ Rowan is happy to have Aelin back

• They stumble out of a closet

• Fenrys and Vaughn are distraught as they see this

• They say they're leaving

• Rowan and Aelin wish them luck

Chapter 6

• Fenrys and Vaughn are riding through the mountains

• They talk about Lorcan

• Vaughn recalls how surprised he was to hear that Lorcan was married

• Fenrys responds that he missed a lot and tries to get info on where Vaughn was all this time, but he still won't tell

• Fenrys talks about how good Elide is and how happy Lorcan was with her and about being a dad

• "Out of all of us, he deserves that peace the most"

• Vaughn announces that he spotted the cave entrance, the one that the anonymous tip gave

• They tie up their horses and prepare, then go inside

• They go in further and eventually come across different paths so they decide to split up

• Fenrys scouts the hallways for a while, passing numerous rooms

• He hears footsteps so he ducks into a room quickly

• He freezes and waits for the footsteps to pass

• He exhales, is relieved, but then a voice startles him

• "What do you want"

• He swirls around, seeing darkness

• Then a candle is lit, and his eyes start to adjust

• "Fenrys? Is that you?"

• Fenrys cannot believe what he is seeing "Elide?"

Chapter 7

• Elide is happy to see Fenrys

• Fenrys is confused as to how she is alive, they saw her body being impaled and crushed

• Elide explains that the creature had another person in its hold-after all, it had 6 arms, and that she was dropped while the creature was running

• Elide understands how they could've believed she was dead

• She asks how Lorcan is

• Fenrys responds that he's breathing but only to run Perranth, for her

• Elide is sad

• Fenrys asks how she got there

• Elide says that after the creature dropped her and she passed out when she hit her head, she was found by some travelers. They took her to their home in the mountains and cared for her. They were behind on some debts and were taken, the people assumed Elide was one of them and took her as well, next thing she knows she is in this dark room alone

• Fenrys asks if she's ready to go home

• Elide is nearly crying, nodding

• He goes to check the hallways and when he turns back, Elide is wrapping a scrap piece of fabric around one shoulder, it slinging around her small frame

• Fenrys finds it weird but shrugs it off

• Then Elide is bending behind the bed and picking something up, putting it into the fabric so that it is held up

• Elide walks over to Fenrys, ready to go

• His breath catches as he sees that it's a baby

• "His name is Ragnar"

Chapter 8

• Fenrys is speechless, struck dumb at the realization that he didn't even consider the survival of the child. The first thing that comes to his mind is "its a boy?"

• Elide chuckles softly and responds with yes

• Fenrys is reminded of the situation and checks the hallway before pulling Elide behind him

• They manage to get out safely and go back to the horses

• They realize they have to wait for Vaughn

• Elide figures they have some time to kill and looks down fondly at Ragnar and says "do you want to meet your uncle fenrys?"

• Fenrys is near tears when he hears her

• Elide asks "do you want to hold him"

• Fenrys is hesitant but Elide assures him that it will be fine, he won't bite

• Fenrys is amazed at how light and small he is. Also how beautiful. He definitely looks like Lorcan.

• Elide ask for water, Fenrys says that its in the pack around the horse

• Vaughn comes back and stops when he sees Fenrys and the baby

• ".... did you steal a baby?"

• Fenrys looks up and smiles

• Vaughn is confused but then he sees Elide coming around the horse

• He is in disbelief, and his confusion of the baby is resolved when Fenrys hands him back to Elide

• Fenrys says he'll explain later, they have to get them home

Chapter 9

• *Elide's pov*

• Long ride, thinking of her time and much she misses Lorcan

• Vaughn was able to go a little faster as Fenrys did not want to harm Ragnar, only a mile ahead or so

• Because of that, when Fenrys and Elide arrived, Vaughn was already searching for Lorcan in the castle

• Elide hands Ragnar to Fenrys and slides down the horse

• Aelin and Rowan were in the nearby garden so they came out at all the commotion

• Aelin cries when she sees Elide and runs to hold her

• They are both crying

• Elide looks over and sees Rowan then goes to hug him

• She pulls back, looks at them both and says "would you like to meet your nephew?"

• Aelin gasps as Fenrys steps forward with Ragnar

• Fenrys looks at Elide and she nods

• Rowan has tears in his eyes as Fenrys hands Ragnar to him

• The front door burst open and suddenly Lorcan is there, panting

• Elide sobs as she sees him and start making her way toward him

• Lorcan runs to her and they meet halfway

• Lorcan picks her up and holds her, small kisses in between words

• Lorcan "Elide, Elide"

• Elide "I've missed you so much"

• Lorcan "It's really you"

• Elide "Yes, yes, it's me"

• Lorcan "I love you so fucking much, you are never allowed to leave my sight, ever"

• They share a big kiss and both have tears running down their faces

• Lorcan "I was so lost without you"

• Elide "You seem to have found your way just fine"

• Lorcan "No... I kept going, for Perranth, for you... but I broke down everyday"

• Elide is speechless, "Lorcan..."

• Lorcan "Now that you're here, I can finally breathe again"

• Another kiss

• Lorcan rests with his eyes closed, breathing in her scent

• Elide "Do you want to see your son?"

• Lorcan's breath catches as his eyes shoot open. He takes a few stuttering breaths before asking "I have a son?"

• He looks over at Rowan who is now standing a few feet away

• Rowan is smiling down at the babe

• Elide walks over and takes Ragnar from Rowan, then walks back to Lorcan

• Lorcan is barely breathing at this point

• Elide places Ragnar into Lorcan's arms

• Lorcan "My son"

• Elide steps closer and says "I've named him Ragnar"

• L "My Ragnar"

• Ragnar opens his eyes at Lorcan

Chapter 10 (Final Chapter)

• Elide and Lorcan are laying in bed with Ragnar in the middle

• Elide and Ragnar are asleep, Lorcan is not

• Lorcan gazed lovingly at his son

• Elide wakes up and sees that Lorcan is awake

• Elide "you need to get some sleep"

• Lorcan "I can't"

• There's a look

• Lorcan "I've had many dreams like this, where you come back and we have our child and we are finally a family... but then I wake up. And it kills me every time"

• Elide reaches over to rest her hand above his, which is resting lightly on Ragnar's stomach "this is real, my love"

• Lorcan looks at Ragnar and decides that it is real, because even his dreams could not picture his son being so beautiful

• He is reminded of how he felt when she told him he was pregnant, and how his fears ranged throughout her pregnancy

• Then he remembers that she went through childbirth alone and is heartbroken and angry

• Lorcan "I am so sorry"

• Elide "For what?"

• Lorcan "You brought our son into this world by yourself"

• Elide has a moment and then says "It was hard. But I kept hearing your voice, telling me to stay strong so that we could- so that we could be a family. In a way, you were there"

• Lorcan grabs her hand and kisses it as not to disturb Ragnar

• Elide whispers "I love you" before drifting off to sleep

• Lorcan kisses Ragnar's head and strokes Elide's hand as he says "I love you too"

• He falls asleep

• ~ Lorcan wakes up to find Elide and Ragnar gone and starts freaking out, thinking it truly was a dream again

• Then Elide walks out of the bathroom, holding Ragnar to her chest

• He sighs in relief

• Elide says to Ragnar "Look who's awake"

• Elide settles into bed next to Lorcan

• Lorcan kisses Elide deeply, the fear that had pulsed through his body still causing him to think irrationally

• Lorcan "it wasn't a dream"

• Elide "I told you"

• Lorcan smiles and looks down at Ragnar "and how's my boy?"

• Ragnar is looking around the room and his eyes rest on Lorcan, then his arms reach out towards him

• Elide "I think he wants his papa"

• Lorcan takes Ragnar from Elide as she say that she's going to take a bath

• Elide "Tonight, Aelin and Rowan are going to watch Ragnar"

• Lorcan "What? Why?" He just got his son, and he wants to spend time with him

• Elide "Because we have a lot of catching up to do" she winks and pulls her nightgown off before walking into the bathroom

• Lorcan is left staring after her, thanking the universe, the dead gods, whatever the hell is out there for this moment, for his family

#elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #aelin galythinius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #fenrys moonbeam #throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #queen of shadows #elorcan #rowaelin

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imagineabrighterworld · 3 years

Text

Shigaraki with an Enforcer S/O

Shigaraki didn't know you were at the meeting until you appeared behind him

Shigaraki needed more men after the failure at the U.S.J. It did bring the League into light, but without the criminals in his arsenal as most were taken into custody or deemed useless, he knew he had to start searching for a new crew. This led him to Corellia, an area full of thieves, black market traders, and mercenaries for hire. You were the enforcer of the biggest mafia in the area, and you made sure he knew that.

Crossing the alleged “safe zone” of Corellia and heading into the Black Light District, Shigaraki motions to the nomu’s on each side of him to take the lead. Kurogiri and another sleeker nomu would take spot behind him. While he was capable of protecting himself, he was taking no chances. He was his greatest pawn in this game, to lose himself and be captured would be detrimental to his whole system.

Moving further into the district, he notes the amounts of bordered up shops and graffiti covered walls, but this all changes when he reaches the center of the district. From there the shops are all open and bustling with customers, the scenery was not the same bleak grey and black concrete walls. It was lively and without the normal trash that coagulated on the streets. What made this area different than that of the one fifteen feet away?

With little else to do than gawk at the juxtaposition, Shigaraki heads down the alleyways of Corellia and enters the underbelly where the black market resided. It was at a shop that he found the leader of the Black Teeth, a gang notorious for drug manufacturing. They dealt with quirk enhancement and blockages, something Shigaraki took interest in after the nomu came to being. His best nomu was beaten by All Might, which meant he would need more than what his scientists were capable of in order to strengthen them.

The boss of the crew was lounging in his chair, the third eye on his forehead closed while his striking white eyes were staring directly at the nomu accompanying Shigaraki.

The man grins. “Their construction is magnificent. Who did you get your hands on to make these?” He sits up, elbows resting on his knees as he scans them up and down.

Shigaraki scoffs. “That is need to know information, and you do not need to know it.”

“Aye, it was a simple question.” The man leans back, his joking demeanor melting into something more serious. “So, Shigaraki Tomura. What can I do for you?”

Shigaraki takes a seat across from the man, knowing he was safe with his posse of nomu. “I need your numbers. You have men to spare. I require them.”

The man hissed through his teeth, an amused glint in his eyes. “You want my men. Mi amigo, are you sure you know what you're asking for?”

While Shigaraki didn't know what was said, he knew for certain what he wanted. What he needed. He wouldn't let the U.S.J. failure happen again. “I am more than certain.”

“Muy bien. I'll give you one of my crew. You'll find they're all you need. Incredibly loyal that one.”

“Only one?” Shigaraki grits his teeth. “Is that a joke?”

A hand lands itself on Shigaraki’s shoulder, causing him to jump slightly in his seat, already reaching to turn them into dust.

A barrier keeps him from touching you, the air seemingly hardening and turning golden at the force of his touch.

You give him a small smirk. “Hey jefe.”

You were either very smart, or incredibly dumb

You didn't bargain for power, or for riches, two things the League could most definitely provide. He found this strange, as everyone wanted something. No one ever gave anything for free. And with your skills, you could ask for anything in return, so why didn't you?

After finalizing a contract with your boss about new arrangements, you leave Corellia with the small group of League affiliates. Still, Shigaraki couldn't understand you, and it was bugging him to no end.

He slowed his pace until he was beside you, his hands clenched into fists as he remembers how you blocked him from using his quirk. “Why are you joining us?”

You examine the face of your new employer, or more of examine the hand covering his face. Your own face was scarred after battles and fights with the police and other gangs. Your body was covered in burns, stab wounds, and gunshots. You've been through the wringer yet still worked in the mafia with gusto. What fueled you? What led you to wanting to aid the league?

“Heroes and villains are white and black. I prefer grey.” You crack your fingers, watching the bones as they pop and settle back into place, relishing in the relief. “Your fighting will bring to light how corrupt some heroes are. It will usher in a better era. If the people work hard enough to make it.”

“You sound like a damn hero.”

“It's all about perspective mi amigo.”

You managed to enter his own little mafia after that display of your skills

There was no denying you had talent, he needed your abilities. You would make for a great asset to his newly forming team.

Two weeks into joining the league, you’ve already proven your worth. With your barrier quirk that could accumulate damage and send it right back at the attacker, you were a perfect tank in his array of assets.

In a meeting gone astray, you defended your new boss and led him to a safe zone away from the villains that wanted to usurp him as the new leader of the League.

At least, you believed it was a safe spot.

“Shigaraki!” You scream at him, spotting a hero ready to pummel him into the ground with their hammer quirk. Rushing to his side, you push him out of the way and put up a hasty shield, grunting as the force drives you into the ground. Breaking the shield, you watch as the hero is thrown back twice as hard, their back hitting a steel pillar above them.

“Get them out of here!” Your new boss yells at Kurogiri as he decays one of the hero’s sidekicks, not batting an eye at the ash covering him from head to toe. He proceeds further into the warehouse in search of the villain that ratted them out to the Hero Agency, but you refused to let him go in alone.

Kurogiri’s smoke appears below you, but using your barrier as a foothold, you launch yourself in the air and run after Shigaraki. “Pendejo!” You shout out, hoping to catch the attention of the blue haired male. “Use your head!”

The lights cut out, and all you could do is focus on the senses you still had.

Maybe it wasn't your smartest idea, but you raise your voice again.

“Shigaraki!”

You run to what you assume is the center of the room but slip on what feels like piles of sand.

The lights turn on, and in the corner of the room you find Shigaraki with a gash just under his chin, nearly catching him on his jugular.

He huffs, the hand that was normally covering his face no longer there, allowing you to see his annoyed yet soft expression. “I can handle myself too.”

An odd beat flutters in your chest.

“I know that idiota.”

You begin to grow on him /like a tumor/

He doesn't admit it, but after that incident, he begins to trust you more than he had before. You proved your loyalty, something he was inclined to ignore before. And you weren't afraid of his presence. The others in the league liked to have their own time away, they had separate goals and found the league as a place to enact them, but you didn't have that. So the fact that you stayed with him at the bar to just be there was quite nice.

You helped him with info gathering, and gathering in general

As his new enforcer with a knack of collecting data without being seen, you became extremely useful to him. And useful to the others as well.

“Oooh did you get the photos I asked for!” Toga chirps from her seat at the bar, spinning in a half circle as she watches you lift a heavy satchel and place it on the counter. The girl always had weird requests, but you caved in. She didn't ask for much anyway, not compared to what your old boss ordered you to do.

“Esperate chica, I have them.” You respond while pulling out a handful of polaroids. They were of several students of U.A., mostly of Izuku Midoriya, who you had yet to uncover why she was so obsessed with him. You pull your hand away just as she snatches them from your grip, remembering how she accidentally scratched you the last time you brought her photographs.

For Dabi you brought him information on Endeavor and his son, as you would see them occasionally on patrol. There wasn't much to tell, as the young boy didn't seem to like his father whatsoever. He rarely spoke, making him a poor source of info. But Dabi was sated either way.

“And what about for me?” Shigaraki hums from behind the counter, looking at you with carmine eyes. “You are my spider first and foremost. Don't forget it.”

With a grin from ear to ear, “I was thinking of you jefe.” You reach further into your satchel and pluck a collectable All Might action figure. “I thought you might like it.”

Needless to say, he decayed it right before storming off to his room.

But later that evening he opened his door to find a video game he had planned on buying.

With a small huff, he accepts the gift and returns to his nest.

You were his right hand alongside Kurogiri

Despite your rough beginning, you grew fond of your new boss. It was like having a friend, even if he could be somewhat of a man child, you learned how to deal with his moods. Which made Kurogiri’s life so much easier.

Shigaraki slams his hands on a table, turning it to dust. In fact, he was tossing everything out of his way, sending dust raining around the room. You stand at the door watching the sprays of ash like fireworks on New Year. It was always best to wait for his rage to ease before approaching him. This, you learned from Kurogiri.

But this time you needed him to calm down. You needed him to be a leader, not a temperamental child.

“Shigaraki.” You stand behind him, arms at your sides.

“How is it that he still gets all of the attention?! How, even after he retires, do we keep failing! One after another, our plans are turning into dust!” He slams a hand on another table, sending it crumbling to the ground.

“Shigaraki.” You repeat in a stern tone.

“What?!” His attention snaps to you, eyes crazed and bloodshot with rage.

“To win a battle is not to win a war.” You state calmly, keeping eye contact with the enraged leader. “Look at the bigger picture, and you will get the advantage you need.”

Something flickers in his eyes, giving you the shot of confidence you need in order to place a hand on his shoulder. He flinches at the contact but doesn't move from you.

“I believe in you cariño.”

He was incredibly antsy when Chisaki wanted you to join the yakuza, so you stepped up and said yes for him

Without knowing it, you had begun caring for the members of the League, something you weren't prepared for when you joined. At first it was just a side gig, a favor to your leader to work with the League. But now it wasn't just for your old boss or for the late Magne, it was for Shigaraki. You were doing this for him. Why? You didn't know. But you were caving for him.

“I’ll go.” You say from your spot beside him at the arm of the sofa. You were used to meetings like this. The yakuza wasn't much different from the mafia, they were like twins. That's how you knew it was better to give in than to argue anymore on the terms. Anymore nitpicking and the meeting would turn into a bloodbath mixed with ash.

Shigaraki doesn't look at you, and for that you were glad. To show weakness in front of these people would only give them a bigger advantage. Did Shigaraki like you? You didn't know. But neither did the Yakuza.

“Your underling has more sense than you do.” Chisaki croons from his spot across from Shigaraki. “They know when it's better to just back down. I like that.”

Shigaraki clenches his fist.

Chisaki looks you over, nodding once to himself before waving dismissively. “You'll need a mask if you are going to be here. I don't need you contaminating the air with your germs.”

You feel your eye twitch, but you give no more than a nod as you walk out of the room, bidding Shigaraki goodbye with a single look.

The next time you see him is the day you realize just how much you missed him

Bloody and sore from fighting with the yakuza underbosses in order to get out, you were happy to regroup with Toga and Twice. You were split up from them during your stint as a yakuza, you assumed it was because you were seen as a tier higher than them. Chisaki was smart enough not to let you plan with them behind his back, but he wasn't smart enough to realize the plans were already made even before the fated meeting.

“Shiggy!” Toga squeals from the back of the van as you all cruise on the empty highway with Chisaki strapped to the gurney. “I missed you guys so much! It was kinda fun being a yakuza! But they were so rude to us, weren't they Twice?”

“Yeah! They were dicks- The nicest people ever goddamnit! EW!”

You laugh at the two behind you, listening to them talk with Dabi, Spinner, and Mr. Compress about their little ‘vacation’.

“You're bleeding.”

Shigaraki’s voice drags you out of your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“You're bleeding.” He repeats in the same monotone voice.

Looking at your injuries you shrug and lay back deeper into the seat cushions. “I’m home, that's all that matters.”

Your leader huffs.

“I missed you cariño.”

“...”

You smile.

“Welcome back.”

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki #mha shigaraki x reader #bnha villains #mha villains #reader is part latino because I love the language sorry #they would totally call him nicknames in Spanish just to confuse him #is pendejo a compliment??#he wouldn't know #and I like it that way

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