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bitchiswild · 5 months

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Winter Ball

Kim Minjeong x F! Reader

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 3.5k

A/n: ❄️🎻🪩

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

The Winter Ball, an event steeped in opulence and prestige, stands as the pinnacle of the year's social calendar. Within its glittering halls, destinies intertwine, where chance encounters spark romances and hearts both unite and fracture. This illustrious affair owes its existence to the esteemed Kim Seok, a titan among elites, who christened the gala in honor of his beloved daughter, Kim Minjeong, affectionately known as Winter.

Beyond its facade of elegance and grandeur, the Winter Ball is a nexus of strategic alliances and lucrative sponsorships, where business dealings are as commonplace as swirling waltzes and whispered confessions. Yet, amid the clinking glasses and shimmering gowns, there exists an unwritten expectation, one fervently held by Kim Seok himself. With each meticulously planned Winter Ball, he harbors a silent hope—a hope that his daughter, Winter, might find love amidst the enchanting splendor.

Winter, however, is a vision of independence and conviction. Echoing her father's unyielding spirit, she rebuffs the allure of romantic entanglements with a steadfast declaration: "I have no need for such entrapments. Love is a fallacy." Yet, despite her protestations, Kim Seok discerns a familiar skepticism in her words, a reflection of his own past reservations before fate introduced him to the love of his life—Winter's mother.

In the depths of his heart, Kim Seok yearns for Winter to experience the transformative power of love, much as he did. With an ardent wish that transcends the gilded confines of the Winter Ball, he quietly prays for the serendipitous arrival of the one who will awaken his daughter's belief in love, just as it was once awakened within him.

As the anticipation mounts and the chandeliers cast their ethereal glow upon the revelers, Kim Seok watches over the festivities, his paternal gaze holding a silent plea to the stars: that Winter, his cherished daughter, may find within this glittering celebration the key to unlock the guarded chambers of her heart.

~~~

Winters POV

I let out a resigned sigh, my eyes scanning the elegantly adorned room filled with twirling couples lost in their own romantic reverie. Amidst the enchanting melodies and graceful waltzes, I stood on the periphery, a silent observer of a spectacle that failed to captivate my convictions. Love, in my view, was a frivolous pursuit—an enigmatic dance of emotions I had no desire to partake in. Love at first sight? Ridiculous.

"Minjeong!" Jimin's voice interrupted my musings, drawing my attention to my ever-optimistic best friend. She flashed a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with a certainty that often accompanied her unwavering faith in matters of the heart.

"You're always so dismissive about love, but mark my words, one day you'll see. It'll all make sense," she remarked, her tone laced with a playful certainty that mirrored her perpetual optimism.

I couldn't help but scoff. "You say that as if it's some inevitable epiphany waiting to happen."

Jimin chuckled, her laughter carrying a hint of affectionate exasperation. "Trust me, Minjeong. Once you experience it, your perspective will shift entirely. Love won't seem like a waste of time anymore."

Her words lingered in the air as she sauntered away, disappearing into the crowd with her partner, leaving me to ponder her unwavering belief in the inexplicable magic of love.

Despite my protestations, I couldn't shake off the echo of her words. Was there a kernel of truth in her confident assertions? Could love truly transform one's outlook, turning what I deemed as frivolous into something profound and meaningful?

As the music swelled and the enchantment of the Winter Ball continued to weave its spell around the room, I found myself caught in a fleeting moment of contemplation. Perhaps, just perhaps, amidst the sea of skeptics, cynics, and believers alike, there existed a truth waiting to reveal itself—a truth about love that I had yet to uncover.

As I made my way towards the refreshments, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught my attention. A figure, graceful and poised, mirrored my steps toward the drink table. Her presence, almost magnetic, tugged at my senses, and for a fleeting moment, the room seemed to shrink, centering around this enigmatic stranger.

"Sorry, am I in your way?" Her gentle voice broke the spell, drawing me from my reverie. I shook my head, startled by the sudden rush of emotions that stirred within me. "N-No, you're not. It's okay," I managed to stutter out, my heart thundering in my chest.

She giggled, her laughter a melody that resonated through the air, and in that moment, it felt like I was enveloped in pure bliss. Was this the inexplicable sensation Jimin spoke of—the rush of emotions, the rapid heartbeat, all in the presence of a stranger? Could this be the much-dismissed notion of love at first sight?

Summoning an ounce of courage I hadn't known I possessed, I extended my hand towards her. "My name's Minjeong. What's yours?" The words stumbled out, coated in a mix of nerves and excitement.

The girl turned toward me, her eyes sparkling with an unspoken allure. "Y/n," she replied, taking my hand in hers. "Nice to meet you, Minjeong. But I've got to get going; my friends are waiting for me. I'll see you on the dance floor?" Her words lingered in the air, a question tinged with a hint of anticipation.

I could only nod dumbly, lost momentarily in the radiance of her smile. As she giggled and gracefully departed, I felt a rush of relief flood through me. It was as if the weight of the moment lifted as she left my vicinity. Gathering my composure, I hurriedly made my way through the crowd, seeking out Jimin amidst the throng of revelers.

"Jimin!" I called out, scanning the crowd for my ever-supportive best friend. Spotting her animatedly conversing with a group nearby, I navigated through the sea of dancers and socialites, eager to share the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me.

"Minjeong, there you are!" Jimin's eyes lit up as she noticed me approaching, her expression expectant. "Did you find yourself a drink?"

I chuckled, trying to compose myself after the unexpected encounter. "Yeah, but more importantly, Jimin, I just had the most...unexpected moment."

Jimin arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? Do tell!"

I recounted the brief yet intense interaction with Y/n, the rush of emotions, and the lingering sensation of having stumbled upon something inexplicably enchanting.

Jimin's grin widened with each word, a silent acknowledgment dancing in her eyes. "Minjeong, could it be? Love at first sight?"

I hesitated, grappling with the idea I'd dismissed moments before. "I don't know, Jimin. It sounds so cliché, doesn't it? But there was something about her... It was different."

Jimin's laughter bubbled forth. "Welcome to the club, Minjeong! Looks like someone's heart might be softening after all."

I rolled my eyes playfully but couldn't deny the fluttering feeling in my chest, a strange mix of nervousness and excitement at the thought of seeing Y/n again.

"Will you go dance with her?" Jimin nudged, her gaze filled with encouragement.

"I-I think so," I stammered, surprised by my own resolve. "I hope I see her there."

With Jimin's teasing encouragement and the memory of Y/n's smile lingering in my mind, I found myself swaying to the music, unable to shake off the lingering anticipation of a potential reunion.

As the night progressed and the melodies intertwined with laughter and whispers, I couldn't help but steal glances around the room, hoping for another glimpse of Y/n amidst the swirling crowd.

Time had passed, and there was no sight of Y/n. Faint disappointment settled in as I made my way back to the bar, hoping to find solace in another drink. Yet, to my surprise, there she was, standing next to a guy who seemed to be making her visibly uncomfortable.

My steps faltered as I approached the bar, the familiar sight of Y/n amidst an uncomfortable interaction stopping me in my tracks. A knot formed in my stomach, an instinctive urge to intervene surging within me.

Y/n stood there, her expression strained, a polite yet uneasy smile plastered on her face. Beside her loomed a guy, his demeanor exuding an unsettling sense of entitlement. His persistent attempts at conversation were met with Y/n's subtle but visible discomfort.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" I questioned, my voice poised but carrying an underlying concern.

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of relief flickering across her face. "Minjeong! I'm so glad you're here," she responded, her voice tinged with gratitude.

I turned my attention to the guy beside her, offering a friendly yet assertive smile. "Hi there! I'm Minjeong. Sorry to interrupt, but Y/n and I have some catching up to do, right?"

The guy glanced between us, seemingly taken aback but sensing the shift in the atmosphere, he excused himself with a half-hearted smile and sauntered away.

Y/n exhaled a breath she seemed to have been holding, offering me a grateful smile. "Thank you, Minjeong. That was...unexpected."

I shrugged, trying to downplay the gravity of the situation. "No problem. Looked like you needed a rescue."

As the tension dissipated, Y/n's gaze met mine, a silent understanding passing between us. The brief yet charged moment solidified something unspoken, a connection forming in the wake of an unexpected rescue.

"Hey, let's grab that drink together," I suggested, hoping to offer some reprieve from the uncomfortable encounter.

Y/n's smile widened, a genuine spark returning to her eyes. "I'd like that."

As we moved towards the bar, the weight of the encounter fading into the background, a newfound sense of camaraderie and intrigue filled the space between us.

The ambient glow of the Winter Ball seemed to dim in the wake of the burgeoning connection between Y/n and me. We settled at a quieter corner of the bustling venue, cocooned in our own world, amid the gentle hum of conversations and the occasional tinkling of glasses.

"So, Minjeong," Y/n began, her voice a melodic invitation to unravel the layers of our mutual acquaintance. "What brings you to the Winter Ball?"

I shared anecdotes about attending with Karina, my father's insistence on finding love for me at these events, and my own skepticism about the enchantment of love.

"And what about you, Y/n?" I inquired, eager to reciprocate the sharing. "How did you end up here?"

She laughed softly, the sound like a symphony in the midst of the ball's elegance. "Honestly, I was dragged here by a friend. Not much of a fan of these extravagant affairs myself."

As we conversed, the conversation flowed effortlessly, each exchange peeling away the layers of initial awkwardness. We discovered shared interests, from music preferences to our views on the complexities of life. There was a comfortable rhythm to our interaction, a natural chemistry that seemed to bridge any gap between us.

Time ceased to exist as we exchanged stories, laughter, and thoughts. The once-imposing Winter Ball now felt like an intimate setting, our dialogue weaving an invisible thread between us, binding our newfound connection.

The night wore on, the music shifting from lively tunes to mellower melodies, yet our conversation continued, unhurried and unreserved. Amidst the glamour and opulence of the ball, a genuine connection had blossomed—a serendipitous encounter that defied the confines of the grand event.

As the evening drew to a close and the final strains of music echoed through the hall, I realized that amidst the sea of faces and fleeting encounters, I had found an unexpected and cherished connection in Y/n.

Our exchange continued, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and aspirations. As the night unfolded its secrets, we found ourselves drawn to the idea that chance encounters often held the most unforeseen treasures.

Eventually, the allure of the wintry night beckoned, and Y/n suggested we step outside to catch a breath of fresh air. The grand doors opened, leading us to the quiet serenity of the winter landscape outside.

A hushed blanket of snow had begun to descend, painting the night in a soft, ethereal glow. The air was crisp, and the gentle flakes danced around us, adding a touch of enchantment to the already magical evening.

Y/n and I stood side by side, gazing at the mesmerizing sight before us. The snowflakes twirled in the air, creating a tranquil scene that felt straight out of a storybook.

"It's beautiful," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

Y/n nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the soft glimmer of the falling snow. "It really is. There's something so serene about snowfall, isn't there?"

We stood there, amidst the quiet elegance of the wintry night, sharing a moment that transcended the grandeur of the Winter Ball. The snowflakes continued their graceful descent, enveloping us in a cocoon of tranquility and wonder.

In that peaceful solitude, our conversation took on a more introspective tone. We spoke of dreams, aspirations, and the inexplicable beauty found in the simplest of moments—a shared understanding that seemed to deepen the connection between us.

As the snow continued to cascade from the heavens, we exchanged quiet smiles, a silent acknowledgment of the rare beauty of this shared moment. For in the delicate dance of snowflakes and the whispers of our conversation, something special had bloomed between us.

As the delicate snowflakes continued their graceful descent, an unspoken warmth enveloped us in a cocoon of shared moments and unspoken sentiments. I turned to Y/n, a genuine sincerity coloring my words.

"I really enjoy your company, Y/n," I expressed, my voice carrying the weight of truth and vulnerability.

Her eyes sparkled with a reflective radiance, mirroring the sentiment. "I enjoy your company too, Minjeong," she replied, her smile a testament to the comfort found in our connection.

We stood there, side by side, witnessing the tranquil spectacle of the first snowfall. The silence between us was filled with unspoken words, an uncharted territory of emotions and possibilities.

"You know what they say about the first snow," I remarked, breaking the tranquil silence between us.

Y/n turned to me, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "No, what is it?" she asked, her voice soft and attentive.

"It's where you make a wish, and they say it might just come true," I explained, a tinge of wistfulness in my tone.

"Make a wish, Minjeong," she encouraged gently, her eyes filled with a gentle encouragement that urged me to embrace the moment.

I let out a sigh, the weight of my wish settling in my chest. "I wish to take you out on a date," I confessed, the words slipping out, carrying the earnestness of my feelings.

In the tranquil serenity of the wintry night, with snowflakes twirling around us like silent witnesses, I dared to voice a longing that had quietly blossomed within me.

Y/n's gaze held mine, her eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions. Her soft smile echoed the silent understanding that had grown between us, a shared connection woven in the magical embrace of the first snow.

As the snowfall continued its gentle descent, a subtle chill began to permeate the air. I noticed Y/n subtly shivering, the cold seeping through the elegant attire she wore for the ball.

"You're getting cold, aren't you?" I asked, concern lacing my words as I observed her discomfort.

Y/n nodded, a faint blush gracing her cheeks. "A little, yes."

Without hesitation, I slipped off my own warm sweater, a comforting shield against the wintry chill, and offered it to her. "Here, take this. It's warmer," I insisted, my voice carrying both concern and a hint of bashfulness.

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise at the gesture, her gaze meeting mine in a mix of gratitude and astonishment. "Minjeong, I couldn't—"

"Please," I urged gently, my smile attempting to ease any reservations she might have. "I want you to be warm."

After a brief moment of hesitation, Y/n accepted the sweater, wrapping it around herself with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Minjeong. You're too kind."

The exchange brought an unexpected warmth to the wintry night—not just from the shared gesture but from the growing connection and the unspoken promise that hung between us.

With Y/n now shielded from the biting cold, our shared moment continued, the snowflakes descending around us in a silent ballet. The act of offering my sweater felt like a bridge between us, forging an unspoken closeness that transcended the physical warmth it provided.

As we stood there, enveloped in the beauty of the snowfall and the quiet understanding that bound us, the promise of a forthcoming date lingered in the air, an anticipation that added an extra layer of magic to the Winter Ball's enchanting allure.

The clock struck midnight, signaling the end of the enchanting evening. Reluctantly, I walked Y/n to her car, the weight of impending separation casting a shadow over our otherwise uplifting interaction.

"Here's my number. Text me about the date plan; I'm looking forward to it," Y/n said, her smile radiant with anticipation, as she handed me a slip of paper bearing her contact information.

My bashfulness emerged, rendering me momentarily speechless. "I'm excited too. I'll be sure to text you. Just get home safe, alright?" I replied softly, hoping to mask the fluttering nerves within me.

Y/n's smile widened, and in that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Her gentle kiss on my cheek felt like a jolt of electricity, sending my heart into a frenzy. For an instant, I felt as though I might lose my footing, caught in the unexpected rush of emotions.

"Good night, Minjeong," she whispered, her words carrying a softness that reverberated through me.

I stood there, watching her car depart, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. Placing a hand over my heart, I attempted to steady the rapid beating within my chest, the lingering sensation of her kiss lingering like an echo.

Before I could collect my thoughts, Karina came bounding towards me, brimming with excitement. "Oh my gosh, I saw everything! Minjeong is head over heels, everyone!" she exclaimed with uncontainable enthusiasm.

I stood there, Karina's excited proclamation ringing in my ears, a mix of bewilderment and anticipation coursing through me. Her words echoed a truth I had vehemently denied for so long—love had never held a place in my beliefs.

But as I stood there, my hand unconsciously lingering on the spot where Y/n's kiss had landed, a revelation dawned upon me. I had once deemed love a frivolous notion, dismissing it as a mere illusion. Yet, in this whirlwind encounter, I found myself yearning for something I never thought I'd desire.

The Winter Ball had unveiled a world of possibilities I had stubbornly ignored, and in the lingering warmth of Y/n's presence, my heart had stirred with unfamiliar emotions. What had begun as skepticism had morphed into an eager anticipation for what lay ahead—a date that held the promise of something genuine and heartfelt.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I found myself eagerly awaiting the prospect of love—a concept I once rejected but now, with each flutter of my heart, embraced with open arms.

Years cascaded by in a beautiful tapestry woven with shared moments, laughter, and a love that surpassed every doubt. Y/n and I stood side by side, a testament to the transformative power of love, as we returned to the Winter Ball each year.

My father's beaming smile was a reflection of his joy as he witnessed the love that had bloomed between Y/n and me. The Winter Ball, once a place of skepticism and uncertainty for me, now held a cherished significance—a testament to our enduring bond and the promise of a love that had weathered the test of time.

With each passing holiday season, Y/n and I found ourselves wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence. The Winter Ball had become more than just an extravagant event; it was a celebration of our love story—a reminder of the serendipity that had brought us together and the countless memories we continued to create.

The twinkling lights, the elegant dances, and the festive atmosphere held a deeper meaning now—a symbol of our shared journey, a testament to the enduring love that had blossomed amidst the enchantment of that first Winter Ball.

As we danced under the glittering lights, surrounded by the echoes of laughter and the whispers of timeless promises, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the unexpected turns that had led me to find the love of my life.

Every holiday season was now a cherished opportunity—a chance to revel in the love that had transformed my beliefs, turning skepticism into an unwavering certainty that love, indeed, was the most powerful magic of all.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

#bitchiswild #BIW.WRITES #aespa x reader #aespa #fluff #aespa x fem reader #aespa imagines #aespa minjeong #aespa winter #winter x reader #kim winter #minjeong x reader #kim minjeong #minjeong

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kerubimcrepin · 2 months

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Dofus: The Production - reviewing the artbook

This post won't go too deep in detail, it's just my commentary on the artbook — but the next (or, well, one after the next), post will be me doing some actual research outside of it. I recommend you to buy the artbook, and go see its contents for yourself, if you're curious about it. (or download it. It's been scanned to hell and back...)

God, this makes me deranged and insane. Even being baby does not stop Kerubim from loving Joris's jokes... I'm insane...

This part of the artbook has always scared me because like... Does he kill people in Dofus 2, Tot?. Does he.?

Epic events is a funny way to refer to this movie's unending barrage of traumatic events, but man, we were kinda robbed of cool draconic winged Joris. That's sad.

I won't include too much art from the artbook if I can help it, but I wanted to report that this is a very good art and theres a lot of love and um and they love each other and um and [CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] ‘GOOD LORD!’ [GENERAL COMMOTION] [BABY CRYING] ‘WAAAAH WAAAAH’ [YELLING] [POLICE SIRENS] WEEWOO WEEWOO [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG… MY LEG…’

I wish I knew what the fuck Tot meant by this. However, knowing that Pupuce is Kerubim's pet, who just liked her owner's kid more than her owner, has fueled some of my headcanons for years and years:

This version of his armour matches the one we could see in the Dofus Manga. :)

I find it quite fascinating that at one point, it was considered for Julith to be an osamodas huppermage, considering it was theorized for some time that Joris might be an osamodas.

I wouldn't call her a tender mother, but eh. She's more of a... "very loving yet despaired mother who doesn't even know her son" mother. A "wants to get back the past which will never return to the point of putting her son into the torture nexus" mother. A "has love in her that is so mentally disturbed" mother. AND I LOVE HER FOR IT!!

I know that her being an alcoholic is a retcon that Dessous did, but its such a good one. I think it's a good show of her decade of slow slippage of sanity. Comic retcons win over Tot's ideas for all Joris-related media once again.

This post was made by "I love Kerubim's dead family from Dofus Heroes Kerubim and Bakara Alcoholism Lore from Dessous de Dofus" gang.

These two huppermages from the movie's concept art were reused in season 4 of Wakfu. Though it would be easier to say what in season 4 of Wakfu isn't reused stuff considering the "shoestring and a piece of chewed gum" budget it was made on...

God, him petting a pupuce is the most important part of the artbook, save for perhaps...

THE KHAN & THE RED-LIGHT DISTRICT & JORIS UNDERAGE DRINKING SCENE

The fact that this was cut is the biggest personal tragedy of my entire life, and I am NOT joking.

Apparently, in this tavern, we were supposed to learn more of his backstory, — like how his father was a gobbowler, but sadly (or happily, if you really hate Khan) it was cut.

But listen. Khan would go to some sexworkers to stare at them and do nothing. He's that much of a loser. He would take a 10yo as his drinking buddy.

This is where my headcanon that he buys Joris booze post-movie comes from, btw.

Compared to the movie's exaggerated visions of Kerubim crying, these images feel like something Joris would remember seeing in real life, something he'd want to avoid.

It feels more real, than just his panicked visions.

#moviehistory #ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz

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lakesbian · 5 months

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lisa is such a Character. "the undersiders aren't friends, but they are each others sole replacements for every single support system and human connection they're missing, and that's actually Significantly More Intense" applies to her too, but the only reason she's lacking any other support systems or human connections is because she's being forced to be there. we see in her interlude that before she was kidnapped she had shitty dyed hair. was she enjoying being rebellious, once? getting to express her identity and experiment outside of the thumb her parents were keeping her under for profit? that ended when someone else started doing the exact same thing to her that her parents were, treating her like a tool and not a person. she has to be the smartest person in the room, she has to be untouchable, because if she isn't, she's fucked.

and everything about her behavior scans as such a desperate attempt to pretend that there's no gun to her head or leash guiding her--not just to convince the other undersiders (who aren't thinking that deeply about it anyways), but to make the fantasy so real that it's something taylor can live in. the act doesn't have to be that good for the team at large to buy into it, so at what point is the act more for herself? i dunno man. i think she cares about her team, obviously. i think she really enjoys when they get to be like silly regular teenagers going out for shopping and dinner together, and anyone knowing what's happening to her would be counterintuitive to that. i think the facts that alec's opinion on coil is "it's weird but a good deal, so whatever, back to video games," and brian outright says "family > undersiders" in response to seeing dinah, and rachel is, well, rachel, are all relevant to lisa never really opening up to anyone on the team but taylor. (who has such a strong moral compass that lisa has to lie to get her there, who storms out when she thinks lisa is being willingly complicit in dinah.)

rereading the early arcs is just like. man. Lisa Wilbourn Torment Nexus. if i think too hard about how she reflexively smiles, reflexively tunes the mask up harder, anytime something bad happens, i explode and die. i don't understand her yet but i want to. girl who has so many fucking layers of masks on it's like a clown-pulling-scarves trick but for self-consuming coping mechanisms. and i'm not sure if there's anything actually left under the last mask anymore. a girl in an impossible situation can build a mask to get out of directly participating in it the mask can consume the girl this is the nature of a borrowed face

#wormtime 2 #wormtime 2 arc 4 #wormblr #parahumans #thinoks about her and Blows Up #worm spoilers

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acatalystrising · 2 years

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Yes, it’s November, but the oneshots stop for no one! I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head for a bit so I finally got a chance to write it!

This oneshot is a veterinarian!(f)reader x TBOBF Boba, no warnings, just lotssss of fluff (and a cute rancor) enjoy!

Here’s a link to part two and three!

Alsooo this one may or may not have been inspired by this…

Oneshot: Moth to a Flame

He was back again.

You heard the now familiar tisk tisk of beskar spurs striking the wooden planks of your walkway, announcing his arrival long before he opened your door. You crossed your waiting room and slipped behind your desk, already rummaging for his package.

You’d never forget the first time Boba Fett stepped into your clinic.

Broad, stern, wearing green beskar that spoke of years of violence and a bounty hunting career soaked in blood. He looked the part too: built like a tank, black clothing that could far too easily hide bloodstains, boots and gloves made of functional leather, helmet with a T-visor that slowly turned, scanning everything and missing nothing.

And yet Boba Fett, the bounty hunter turned Daimyo of Tatooine, hadn’t threatened your life that day. He’d come for medicine…for his rancor. His voice had been rough, like mountain stone, yet carrying a warmth that reminded you of the way spotchka settled in the back of your throat after a long day.

You’d been afraid, intimidated - but advised him calmly, as professionals should, you’d wagered, your concern for the animal overriding your fear for your life. And it had worked - he’d thanked you, paid you handsomely, and left without another word.

And yet, for some reason, he kept coming back. It was usually for more medicine, but recently it had been for something as small as a treat, or advice…and despite your reservations, you’d nearly grown accustomed to his presence. He never threatened you, and always ensured you were paid more than the goods were worth - but still. He was a killer, you knew, and killers couldn’t be trusted.

Perhaps it was for the best, you thought, even as his shadow fell over your doorstep, made larger than life by the binary suns - for the best that you had a working relationship with the new Daimyo. If relations were good, you’d be able to stay in business - then the animals you cared for would be safe. Even if you were entertaining something much more dangerous than a rancor to keep it that way.

He stepped inside - armor slightly dusted by the sandy terrain, silent as always. You dipped your head in a greeting and lifted the brown bag of medicine onto the counter.

“Hello,” you looked at the expressionless helmet, nerves twisting in your gut, and dared to give him a small smile as you gestured at the small paper bag. “Here for the usual?”

He nodded slowly in acknowledgement, helmet dipping nearly gracefully as he approached, gloved hands resting on the edge of your desk as he took the bag. Your gaze dropped to his thick fingers, absently wondering how many people he’d killed with those hands, when his voice crackled over the vocorder.

“The medicine is appreciated, but,” his helmet titled slightly to the side, as if pondering his words. “I’m here for another matter.”

Alarm spiked your chest, and you could have sworn your heart dropped to your stomach. You tried your best to remain calm, collected - but you clenched a shaking hand underneath the counter to ground yourself.

“Is something wrong?” You frowned, unable to fully eradicate the quiver from your tone. “With the medicine, I mean?”

He was silent for a moment, long enough to make you wonder if he was plotting how to kill you. What could you have possibly done? You couldn’t die now - you had two sick banthas, three loth cats, and a nexu cub you’d managed to wrangle from a merchant all depending on you to survive.

“If I have, I promise I can make it up to you,” you knew you were babbling, fear slowly overriding logic. “I never meant to-“

He held up a hand, helmet gently shaking side to side.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, mesh’la.” His tone was still carrying that gravely rasp, yet had somehow imperceptibly softened.

And there he was again, saying that word you didn’t understand…what the kriff did it mean? Was he insulting you? But the way he said it nearly made you feel weak kneed. Damn, he was dangerous.

“The medicine’s helped, but I’m told he’s depressed.” He crossed his arms, weapons on full display, and you waited with bated breath for him to continue. “I need someone to look him over, ensure he has what he needs. Would you be willing?”

Wait, he was asking you to inspect a rancor? The biggest animal you’d worked with was a bantha, and your experience with predators was lackluster at best…

And besides, this wasn’t just any rancor…it was his. At the palace. Jabba’s former palace. In that gods damned pit where so many had met their untimely demise. That place…didn’t have good memories.

“You’ll be safe, I give my word,” Boba’s voice broke you from your thoughts, but he didn’t sound impatient…in fact, he seemed entirely understanding. “You’re the only one I’d trust around him.”

You raised a brow, but nodded. You always knew when a pet’s owner was sincere - there was a weighted concern in every voice, every expression. And even though you couldn’t see the Daimyo’s face, you knew he was being genuine. And so, even though you knew you were probably signing your life away, you felt yourself nodding.

“Okay, I’ll help. When do you want me to stop by?” You nearly wanted to roll your eyes at yourself.

Here you were potentially facing death, and yet you were conversing as if you were going on a regular afternoon picnic with the most notorious bounty hunter in the galaxy - what a funny notion.

“The sooner the better, I wager.” He shifted, fingers tapping lightly on his gauntlet, either in boredom or agitation, you couldn’t figure. “Do you have any appointments for the rest of the day?”

Oh karking hell. You were so going to die.

“Umm,” you nervously scanned your daily schedule that you already knew was unfortunately blank. “No, all clear. It’s…a quiet season.”

His helmet shifted to scan the room before looking back down at you with a nod. “You’re welcome to accompany me back, then.”

You nodded, trying your best to still your quivering hands as you made your way around the facade of safety your desk had created. Boba Fett looked down at you, silent and immovable, as you stopped before him.

I, you thought to yourself, am so dead.

You’d seen the confused and frightened looks cast your way as you’d walked through the streets of Mos Espa with none other than the Daimyo himself.

You hoped that someone would be charitable enough to care for the animals after your death. But the chances were always slim. At least the rumors would spread, you wagered, thoughts swirling in the tangible silence between you and your armored companion as he led you through the darkened underbelly of the palace.

I’m dead, dead, dead. Sentenced to be rancor food for Maker knows what.

You kept your gaze locked ahead, hoping you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in your final moments. But you could also be wrong. He’d only ever been true to his word, and he hadn’t once hurt you or threatened to do so. Your thoughts were still a swirling mess when he stopped at a door, glancing down at you.

“Stay with me, but don’t be alarmed. You’re safe.” Boba’s voice was nearly calming to your nerves as he opened the door, the barricade sliding out of the way, as you both stepped into the cavern beyond.

It was a massive cave, littered with stalactites and stalagmites bared like teeth, but that wasn’t what held your attention. Your gaze was locked on the giant, impossibly massive, deadly creature laying at its center. A rancor, in the flesh.

It rumbled a low growl, huge fanged maw parting, and slowly shifted to its feet. Boba, you noticed with wide eyes, approached the beast completely unafraid. You watched, blinking in shock, as he removed his helmet and tucked it under an arm, reaching up to pat the creature’s neck as if it were as tame as a bantha. He turned to face you, still scratching the rancor’s neck.

“He won’t hurt you,” he spoke calmly, deep voice nearly melodic without the vocorder, and gestured at you with a flick of his gloved fingers. “But he does want to say hello.”

Oh stars, you weren’t expecting Boba Fett to be attractive. Nor did you ever think you’d see the Daimyo smile. But he was - so genuinely enamored by this giant beast that his small grin was infectious.

And so you stepped forward, daring to approach the beast. It watched you with glittering eyes, those massive teeth still parted, but Boba walked around to its head and stood beside you.

“See? A friend.” Boba placed a hand on the small of your back, keeping his eyes trained on the rancor, which shook its head and let out a huff. “She’s gonna make sure you’re okay.”

Friend? You glanced at him, striking features focused on the rancor, and you felt a warmth settle in your chest when his gaze shifted to ensnare yours, something altogether soft in those dark brown eyes.

You noticed his hand was still at your back, touch surprisingly gentle. He spoke softly, as if to comfort both you and his gargantuan pet, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d misjudged him. Perhaps there was more to Boba Fett then met the eye.

“Can I…” you regarded the rancor with a tilted head, a small smile slowly creeping to your lips. You couldn’t help it, being in such close proximity with something so magnificent. Well, two magnificent things. “Will he let me pet him?”

“Yes, I’ll show you how,” he turned to face you, so dizzying close, and held out a gloved hand. “Do you trust me?”

Part of you still wanted to say no, knowing all too well that he could still kill you. But you saw nothing but kindness in that stern, scarred face, the corner of his plush lip curved in a small, beckoning smile. You nodded and dared to slip your hand in his.

You noted, even as he raised your hand with his toward the rancor’s nose, that his touch was warm and gentle - not at all what you’d expected from one of his reputation. And when you felt your fingertips brush against the rancor’s tough hide, it rumbled, pressing its head into your hand with a soft sound you almost interpreted as a purr.

“Oh my gods, this is amazing! He’s so sweet, look at those pretty eyes,” you couldn’t help but gush, your love of animals kicking into overdrive, and you gave the scales a gentle scratch. “Let’s make sure you’re okay, all right?”

You glanced at Boba, and found he was watching you with such a tender warmth you nearly felt your knees go weak.

“Knew this was a good idea,” he smiled fully now, rumbling voice rolling through you and settling in your chest. “You like him?”

Kriff, kriff, kriff. He was attractive, dangerously so - his skin a rich tan that flickered bronze in the torchlight. You didn’t want to stare, but you couldn’t help it, feeling drawn to him in a way you couldn’t fully grasp. You found yourself wishing the Daimyo was asking about himself.

“I do, he’s amazing. I never thought I’d ever be able to see one in person, definitely not this close,” you looked back at the rancor, hoping to hide your blush. “Will he let me examine him?”

“Yes, he will,” Boba chuckled, the sound rumbling through your chest to your toes this time, and you distinctly felt a warmth settle in your core. Ohhh kriff, you were in trouble, but not in the kind that you’d been expecting.

He finally let go of you, and you found yourself missing his touch, forcing yourself to focus on the matter at hand.

“Hey sweetie,” you brushed your hand over the rancor’s face, checking his eyes and ear cavities. “All clear, no discoloration. That’s good. Let’s see those teeth.”

You fearlessly dropped to a crouch beside its face, and it rumbled again as you brushed a hand underneath its jaw. You kept a respectful distance from those massive fangs, but noted that this rancor was already earning a clean bill of health. You felt Boba’s gaze on you as you worked, and your cheeks flared. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about - and why he’d chosen you of all people to entrust with this opportunity.

“Well, he’s in perfect health,” you stood and scratched the rancor’s neck, earning another pleased rumble. “Oh, you like that huh? What a good boy.”

You finally pulled away, knowing you’d done what he’d brought you here for, and found that he was still watching you. Surprisingly, you didn’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze, and you turned to fully face him with a small, shy smile.

“Thanks, for this,” you reluctantly lifted your hand from the rancor and it butted its head into you, making you chuckle despite your nerves. “He’s healthy, just needs interaction. If you ever…you know, need someone to work with him, just let me know.”

“You’d want to come back?” His brows flew upward in surprise, and if he was entirely shocked by this development. “I don’t want to scare you.”

You nearly grinned, a giddiness settling in your bones despite the fact that you knew you should be afraid. At least wary, of the man in front of you. But he’d been talking about himself, not the rancor, hadn’t he?

“You don’t scare me, neither of you do,” you crossed your arms and dared to regard him with a small smirk. “That is, if you wouldn’t get tired of me.”

“I could never get tired of you, little one,” he closed the distance between you, hands held loosely at his sides, and you absently wished he’d touch you again. “I’m glad that you like him.”

“His owner’s not half bad either,” you felt the words slip from your lips before you could stop yourself, and you dropped your gaze to your boots to hide your furious blush.

But Boba Fett merely chuckled, and you felt the soft leather of his gloves bush against your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

“You don’t have to hide that pretty face,” he lifted a brow, lips curved in a welcoming smile as his thumb gently caressed your jawline. “You’re welcome here anytime, mesh’la.”

Oh stars, if you didn’t get a hold of yourself, you were going to melt. You took a breath, realizing too late that you were leaning into his touch.

“What…does that mean?” You met his gaze, molten eyes so warm and inviting, you felt you wanted to dive in despite the potential danger.

He held your gaze, face mere inches away, and you resisted the urge to recklessly learn forward to capture those damn lips in yours.

“It means beautiful.” His gaze flicked between your eyes and lips, and you held your breath, the tension palpable as he leaned slowly forward…

The rancor suddenly released a playful rumble, head-butting you both. You tumbled gracelessly into his arms, and Boba held you gently against his armored chest, a deep, warm laugh rumbling from his throat and sending tingles down your spine.

“Someone doesn’t like being left out,” he patted the rancor’s neck, arm still wrapped around you. “I want to ride him, you know.”

You did your very, very best to not let your thoughts take an improper turn at that comment, given that there was something else you’d be fine with riding - and you smothered a smirk as he met your gaze with a raised brow.

“Perhaps, if your schedule isn’t too busy, would you like to have dinner here tomorrow?” He spoke so smoothly, so gently, you nearly didn’t notice that he was gently caressing your back. “That is, if you’re interested…”

You nodded vigorously, earning another chuckle, and hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’d like that very much,” you met his gaze with a smile of your own. “If you’re interested.”

“Ad’ika,” he leaned forward, warm breath washing over your skin, and gave your cheek a soft peck. “I’d be honored.”

#boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fluff #boba fett #star wars #boba fett fan fiction #boba fett fic #tbobf #the book of boba fett #acatalystrising writes #oneshot prompts #my writing

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0mysticmidnight0 · 3 months

Note

I'm very new to this so I hope you're still doing requests 💪

can you do a rotmnt, male reader gets extremely injured. Like maybe in a battle and the Turtles don't notice until the fights over, when everything is calmed down.

thank youuuu<33

I apologize for not doing this sooner! Hope you enjoy!!

The fear of losing someone you love

-You guys were at the hidden city and stumbled upon The battle Nexus. You guys needed some cash so you thought this would be quick.. Plus, Senor Hueso's pizza is DELICIOUS! Oh how wrong you guys were. Leo insisted on adding more people to fight and double the cash, Leo said it would be easy, Leo said it would be fun team building exercise... Big Mama agreed of course. -Everyone had more than enough people to fight.. Some of the strongest went after you since you looked like the weakest and you were human. (April scared them..) You defeated one of them but you were struggling.. you broke one of your arms and sprained your knee once you were done with the last one.... as well as a dislocated shoulder and a few wounds.. -The battle was done. They cheered happily! Until.. "Hey, wait.. Where's the reader?" That's when their blood ran cold.. They saw you on the ground, bleeding. everyone went silent. Raph rushed to you, Donnie was already scanning your wounds, Leo was comforting Mikey while Mikey begged for you to stay awake. -That was the last thing you saw before waking up in the lair's Medbay. Leo was there, asleep. Mikey was next to you, asleep. Donnie and April were on the table, asleep. Raph enters the room and asks if you were okay.. You nodded. "Ya' almost gave Raph a heart attack.." You laughed and turn to your side. You see a few items. -A few comic books, from Leo. A bowl of chicken soup, from Mikey. Your laptop/phone which you lost in the battle, repaired by Donnie and your favorite Movie from April. Raph gives you a blanket. Insisting you rest more while he could watch over you. You ask about the things on the table and Raph laughs. "They couldn't stay awake, Donnie made the idea of bringing you stuff you might want when you wake up incase they fell asleep." Raph laughs "good thing they did cause they fell asleep. Not Raph though!" -You smiled at how thoughtful all of them were. You are surely gonna treat them to Free pizza. (Senor Hueso's OFCOURSE)

Hope you enjoyed!!! Have a good day/night everyone!

#rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise mikey #rise leo #rise donnie #rise tmnt #tmnt 2018 #x reader #rottmnt reader #donnie rottmnt #leo rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #Mikey rottmnt #raph rottmnt #rise april #rottmnt april

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punkitypunker · 1 month

Text

#cm punk #promotion: wwe #nexus punk #magazine scans

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cookies-and-music · 3 months

Text

Ghost. - part 7: How do you plea?

This chapter's musical suggestion is Blood//Water by grandson.

Part 1 here - part 8 here

PAIRING: TVA!LokixOC

RATING: ALL

SUMMARY: Loki meets sombody at the TVA he once knew. Unfortunately she doesn't seem to remember him.

Time to bring some action here. All that sweetness and sadness was making me wanna puke.

TVA, 2021 – a few days later.

"I believe I know who you are."

"Well, Sylvie, since I also know who you are, I won't waste time introducing myself" Lydia opened the yellow folder containing all the documents related to the variant she had in front of her.

"Why did they send you?" Sylvie tilted her head, settling into the interrogation room chair.

"All the bad cops were busy," Lydia scanned the papers.

"I didn't know there were any good cops at the TVA."

"All the more reason why you should take advantage of the fact that it's me you've got," Lydia smiled coldly.

"I won't tell you anything," Sylvie spat.

Lydia refrained from rolling her eyes; losing patience wouldn't help. She had to find out what caused the NEXSUS event they and Loki had generated. It was her chance to move from consultant to actual analyst. Considering their entire existence was a mistake, comparing their files to those in the archive wouldn't be enough.

"And do you think your partner in the other room will keep his mouth shut?"

"Yes" Sylvie bared her teeth.

"Oh, come on. You know as well as I do how much he loves to talk" Lydia smiled.

"He knows the truth. The truth about the TVA and who works there" Sylvie leaned back, crossing her legs. "And about you."

"And what would he know about me?" Lydia sighed, bringing two fingers to her temple with a bored air.

"Everything. About how you betrayed him."

"And what about the TVA?"

Sylvie closed her mouth and looked away.

"Come on, Sylvie, we literally have all the time in the world. Do you really wish to spend it here?" Lydia spread her arms, but still, Sylvie didn't answer; she decided to press on.

"Let me make you a proposal, considering that I, at least, don't intend to spend the rest of eternity in this room: you tell me what caused the NEXSUS event on Lamentis-1, and I'll intercede for you with the higher-ups," she twirled a finger, "guaranteeing your survival."

Sylvie let out a forced laugh, shaking her head. "Your attempts are pathetic."

"Well, then let's hope my colleague in the other room is doing better than me" Lydia smiled acidly.

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Unlike you, Loki doesn't betray people who trust him."

"And you trust him, don't you?"

"The only person a Loki trusts is theirself" Sylvie crossed her arms.

Lydia observed her defensive posture and the way her gaze seemed to want to incinerate her.

"You know, someone once said that trust is the highest form of love" she leaned towards her.

"Then you really don't know anything about him," Sylvie mimicked her "there's nothing in the world that a Loki can love more than himself."

There it was. The NEXUS event. The opportunity to fall in love with oneself. What vanity enveloped Loki.

"Exactly," Lydia smiled bitterly.

Sylvie furrowed her eyebrows before widening her eyes. "What?"

"Thank you for your courteous cooperation," Lydia closed the yellow folder and stood up from the chair with a smile and bright eyes, ready to report everything to Renslayer, without thinking too much about the consequences her actions would have.

----

The next day, the TVA was in turmoil; the monitors in the control room were going crazy. From the sacred timeline branched out an immense number of other timelines, ramifications. There was no trace of Loki, and Lydia hadn't heard from him. She had been prevented from entering the room where he had been confined and ordered to stay away. When she had tried again, after reporting to Renslayer what she had discovered from Sylvie and being dismissed with a "good job, now go take a break," she hadn't found anyone, least of all him.

But people don't disappear; they die.

She had tried to talk to Mobius but had gotten nowhere.

"Until we have approval from the council, I can't tell you anything," he had said as he ran through the corridors in the general chaos.

"Can't you at least tell me if he's alive?"

"It's classified."

"Classified?"

"You don't have a high enough clearance!" Mobius snapped, turning to her, whose analyst rank had not yet been confirmed. Then perhaps out of pity, his expression softened. "Until we have news, he's to be considered MIA."

MIA.

Lydia was an agent of SHIELD, and even before that, she had trained at Quantico. Lydia knew what it meant when someone was MIA.

Lydia closed herself in a small room, leaned her back against the door, and slid to the floor, crushed by her own sense of guilt. It was her who had condemned them both, out of anger, out of ambition. Him, who despite everything, she had considered a friend, with sad eyes and kind words.

Even without being the material executor of their end, she had contributed to it by following the orders given to her. And the last words she had said to him had been, "Damn murderer."

She wanted to cry but couldn't. All she could do was breathe heavily, as if she had run the New York marathon. While in her head, his words during their last conversation overlapped.

"You hurt me." "You stabbed me in the back." "It's your fault."

Now it was true. All true. Everything she yelled she hadn't done had still come to pass. Perhaps that was the true meaning of the concept of "destiny"; or perhaps it was just the manifestation of her true nature.

Guilty.

I know. No loki. Y'all were here for him after all. He'll be back tomorrow, that's the reason I'm posting so soon. My girl needed a little kick in the ass in order to sort her feelings out. It is what it is. Let me know what you think of the story so far. I have recived no comments so I'm not sure what everyone is thinking, but I'm fine also with a little heart or a repost so I don't lose interest in writing. It' really helpful.

#fanfic #loki series #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x oc #loki season 2 #loki x reader images #loki x you #loki x y/n #tva!loki #tva!lokixreader #tva!lokixoc #tom hiddleston

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waywardrose · 6 months

Text

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 25

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated e

5.3k

spotify playlist

for @punk-in-docs

fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, blood, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, running away, guns, fist fighting, everyone survives, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: We're in the endgame now! There'll probably be one or two more chapters and an epilogue after this. 🖤 I'll compile and post a masterlist for this fic soon, too!

Your heels pounded on the pavement. The pressure patch bounced against your chest. Bitter wind dried your eyes. Ash swirled in the air, creating incomprehensible patterns. It contrasted the dark wall of smoke curtaining the street ahead. You skidded to a stop.

Why were you running towards a fissure? What the hell were you thinking?

You looked over your shoulder. Eddie stepped onto the street, shirt streaked with blood. You couldn’t run in his direction. He was too fast. He’d catch you, take you to Vecna.

Shit, you’d nearly done that yourself.

A roar like a tornado boomed in front of you.

You turned to the fissure. A massive arachnoid shape moved inside the smoke. You stepped back. The blacktop surrounding the fissure cracked further, making you retreat. Vines you’d only seen through the tumbler or in visions snaked into the air.

You couldn’t fight a thing made of smoke. You couldn’t beat back the vines.

Chittering and howls echoed from the fissure, reminding you of a wolf pack. Demodogs, according to Dustin. You’d heard them months ago. The primitive part of your brain had known then they were predators.

There was nowhere to hide. Eddie had already seen you, anyway. However, you couldn’t give up.

With a scan of the street, the only practical option was an alley on your left. You raced into it. Dumpsters, blocky AC units, and dented trashcans blurred as you ran.

A wood pallet soared on your right. It hit the brick wall and exploded into shrapnel.

You shielded your face in your elbow. A board smacked your side. Pain bloomed, muscles cramped. You twisted and gasped, stumbling over shattered pieces of wood.

Eddie stood yards away. From the street, the chittering increased in volume. Your shoulder knocked into a parked box-truck. He stepped forward, relentless and silent. You cursed as you bounced into the wall.

You had to keep moving, had to keep him away from Max.

You jogged into the narrow gap between truck and wall. It was a clear shot to the next street. Unfortunately, the fissure crossed the alley on the other side. Vines slithered up the broken buildings.

To your left, police barricades spanned the street. You couldn’t go right because that would lead you to the nexus. You ran left and realized you were drawing closer to the hospital. At the next intersection, you went left again.

Humvees, camo-painted trucks, and police cruisers rolled away. Plumes of ash spun in their wake. You ran onto the street and yelled for them to stop, but an attack helicopter whooshed overhead. It charged towards the nexus. You had to get out of here. The helicopter launched one of its missiles. A great, monstrous shriek answered. You covered your ears at the cacophony. The ground shook, and you bent your knees to keep your balance. A second later, the report from a blast rattled windows.

You looked back. Eddie steadied himself on the side of a parked car less than twenty feet away. With eyes on you, he pushed off.

You murmured, “Come and get me, baby,” before sprinting down the street.

You passed the police and fire stations, squinting against the falling ash. While you could seek shelter in either place, you didn’t know what Eddie would do to those who got in his way. And you didn’t want to think of what they’d do to Eddie if they saw him.

You needed him to pursue you — and only you.

The nearest fissure cutting through the street stopped you short. Vines zigzagged over the ground. Another monstrous shriek bellowed, and it reverberated in your heaving chest. A neighborhood of older homes sat across the way. You ran between two houses, certain no one was inside — not with how close the houses stood to the fissure.

You hid behind a large oak in the backyard and leaned on the trunk. In the distance, demodogs chittered and gunfire resounded. The hit to your side made itself known as you panted for air. You pressed your palm over it. Muscles spasmed. With a grimace, you repeated the healing spell under your breath. Heat sparked under your skin. Sweat prickled above your lip and at your hairline.

It took a small eternity for the heat to dissipate. You lifted your shoulder to stretch it out. The muscles complained, but it wasn’t a stitch in your side. That was good enough.

Glancing around, it was difficult to find your bearings. You weren’t sure it mattered where you were. Your primary concern was keeping Eddie occupied until you figured out what to do.

A twig snapped.

You whipped to the side to peek around the trunk. Nothing was out of place. No sign of Eddie, either.

Shit.

Had he given up?

No, making the hunted think they were safe was a horror-movie cliché.

You weren’t safe.

You turned to face the other backyards. Still no sign of Eddie. He was hiding and watching. You felt it. He would lose patience soon enough, though.

Instead of running, like your hind brain wanted you to, you walked away from the oak. He wasn’t going to kill you. Vecna didn’t want you dead yet. You marched farther into the neighborhood, navigating fences and darting between houses.

A wooded area bordered the neighborhood. That was a prime place to play hide-and-seek with your undead, psycho-controlled puppet of a boyfriend. Jesus Christ, what was your life? You paused on the curb at the end of a cul-de-sac. The woods lay beyond the arc of houses.

A fence gate clanged before Eddie walked around the corner of a house and stopped in the front yard. He’d smeared the blood from his chin up his sharp jaw. The blood on his scrubs had oxidized to a rust brown. From this distance and through the ash-fall, his cursed eyes could be mistaken for pale ones. It didn’t suit his face. He looked best with brown sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. He looked best smiling. He looked best when he’d been yours.

But he wasn’t yours anymore — and you didn’t know if he’d ever be again.

The edges of your vision blurred. You took a stuttering breath. There had to be a way to get him back. If Vecna could animate him, you could restore him.

You stepped onto the grass, heading for the woods. Eddie matched your pace stride for stride. At the edge of the yard where manicured turned wild, he quickened his steps.

He wasn’t toying with you any longer.

You ran, graceless and bumbling, into the woods. The real fight started now. Under the canopy of ash-covered foliage, shadows deepened. Your heart pounded rabbit-fast. Branches and twigs snagged your sleeves and hair, scratched your exposed skin. You couldn’t hear anything beyond the sound of your panting breath.

After jumping the third log, your thighs almost gave out. You staggered to a thick tree and lay against it. Your temples throbbed with your forceful heartbeat. Sweat beaded down your face.

Sudden weight pressed you against the tree. The musty scent of dried blood filled your nose. Hands grabbed your hips.

“Got you.”

You gasped and tripped sideways. Eddie held the back of your jeans until you pushed him away. He caught your forearm until you wheeled it out of his grasp. You spun and bolted deeper into the woods.

He clawed at your shirt with every step, fingers scraping down your back. You lunged to the side. Arms hooked around you before lifting you off the ground. You kicked out and writhed. He swayed with you to expel your momentum. He then brought your upper body close and dragged his sharp teeth over the side of your neck.

You stiffened, thinking of the MP he’d killed.

This couldn’t be it. Eddie wouldn’t kill you. This couldn’t be what Vecna had planned. It made no sense. You had magic, for fuck’s sake.

“No, let me go!”

“Or what?”

He didn’t even sound out of breath.

You pushed against his arms.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’d like to see you try, witch.”

You arched your back, freeing your arms, and slapped your palms on his cold forearm. You concentrated all your energy into them. The air cooled. The temperature dropped so fast, you expected to see your breath fog. You shivered as goosebumps rose along your skin. You pushed the energy as heat into him.

He howled and released you.

You landed hard and fumbled forward. The energy vanished from your hands like it’d never been there. The air heated. Your forehead ached from the quick temperature change. However, you couldn’t let that stop you. Eddie was right behind you.

After lumbering into a tree, you found your balance and pushed off. You ran with the hope it was away from the houses and fissure.

You glanced back. Eddie was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t slow to catch sight of him. Like before, you knew he followed you.

He darted out between two trees and tackled you into another. Your back struck the unyielding trunk. It knocked the breath from your lungs. He pressed his burnt forearm across your upper chest, pinning you to the tree.

You heaved for air and pushed at his elbow and wrist. His other hand went to your hip.

“You will see this through,” he said, leaning his weight on you. “It’s your responsibility.”

You shook your head. At one time, having him against you would’ve been a comfort. You would’ve wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck.

He said, “We should thank you, you know. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t cleared the way.”

You hung your head and held onto his arm. He was right. You’d opened the proverbial door for Vecna.

“I know,” you said. “I thought I understood. I thought… I thought I could heal this place.”

He huffed.

“So arrogant.”

The corner of your mouth quirked.

“Yeah, so fucking arrogant. Just like Vecna.”

“But Source can do what you can’t.”

“Oh?” You met his colorless gaze. “Like make the world worse?” Searching his blank face, you said, “He’s going to kill everything.”

“Sometimes destruction is a means of restoration.”

“That’s not what you believe.”

“What do you know of what I believe?”

“I know you want to create.”

“I am creating — with Source.”

“I thought you wanted to create with me. You wanted to leave this town with me.”

“No, I—”

“Yes. Don’t you remember what you said on New Year’s? You said I inspire you. You want to write songs for me! You said you think about me every day!” You touched his cold cheeks. “You said you’d give me everything.” You inhaled and put weight into your words. “So, give. me. everything.”

The weight of magic overloaded your limbs. You fisted his shirt to stay upright. However, he was no stronger.

Together, you fell to the ground.

Through gritted teeth, he said, “No, I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“For who, huh? You? Me?” You bent closer, taking the risk he wouldn’t choke or bite you. “Don’t you care — about me — at all?”

You wanted to ask if he loved you anymore, but… That was too far, too much. You imagined all the venom Vecna would make him spit.

“I do this because I—” He blinked. “It has to be done.”

“Are you listening to yourself right now?”

“What?”

“He killed me. Vecna killed me. He took Max.” You motioned to your head and said, “He killed me,” before motioning to your heart.

“Then you should’ve stayed dead.”

“Well, here I am.” You threw your hands wide. “Just like you.”

“You’re pointless.” He moved in to drive his words home. “You’re a little rich girl slumming it. You have all this power, but you never make anyone’s life easier. You have it easy. You’re spoiled and entitled, and we’re glad we killed you.”

“Fuck you! He killed you, too!”

What he said couldn’t be true. That’s not what Eddie thought. Right? You weren’t… You couldn’t be… It must’ve been a ploy by Vecna to hit where it hurt. He’d pulled some doubt or negativity from your mind months ago.

“It had to be done,” Eddie said.

“And what’s he going to do when he gets what he wants, huh?”

“I…”

“Answer me! What’s he going to do to us?”

“He’ll…”

“He’ll kill us again, Eddie.”

“No, he—” He frowned, looking away. His mouth opened and closed. “No…”

“Yes!”

You grabbed his face and forced him to meet your gaze. You wouldn’t play into Vecna’s hands by abandoning Eddie. Too many people had done that already, and you refused to be another.

“Come back to me.”

He wrenched his head from your hold to hide his face.

“I can’t come back. No, I— I’m where I need to be. I’m whole here. I’m bigger than… Bigger than—”

“Come back, honey.”

He looked to the side, the corners of his mouth turned down.

“You know, I never told you how you feel to me,” you said. “What you feel like. I figured it out in Chicago. At the concert.” You followed the slope of his blood-covered jaw with your eyes. “With all those people around us, you still stood out to me. I couldn’t help but feel you… feel your warmth.” You rested your forehead on his temple and softly said, “You’ve always been a flame in the dark.”

He propped his hands on his knees, sagging.

You softly added, “He can’t make it out of the Upside Down without us. It’s you and me. It’s always been you and me.”

He pulled away to look at you.

“You and me?”

You nodded.

“However long we got.”

His face became a rictus of pain, eyes going full black. Gray veins wormed under his sallow skin. He shook and wailed. You held his shoulders to keep him upright. He coughed black liquid as his eyes flashed brown. The liquid trickled down his chin to mix with the dry blood. His eyes clouded white.

He listed right. You couldn’t steady him as his weight dropped. You cushioned his head as he fell, your mind racing. Could you use the Eradix spell now? Would it kill Eddie, too? Did you want to gamble with his life? Was the nexus open enough for any spell to get through or not? Would he hate you if you couldn’t do anything?

The whites of his eyes went red — like blood, like lightning. He flailed. The black liquid from his chin smeared your inner forearm. Blistering heat sizzled up your nerves. You pulled away with a curse and a quick draw of breath. Your skin puckered. You needed to get it off you.

The few fallen leaves crumbled in your grasp. You picked at your shirt. If the liquid burned your skin, it would probably burn through clothing. Then you’d be in the same predicament, but this time on your stomach. The only solution was scraping it off.

Leaning over, you bit your lip and dragged your throbbing forearm across the bark of the tree. It abraded the wound like sandpaper. A whine escaped your throat.

Eddie’s yowl eclipsed it. He thrashed to the side. The gray veins darkened. He retched more black liquid. It sprayed over rotting moss.

The entire forest was rotting. The leaden sky became visible as leaves drooped, black and brown and covered in ash. Even the evergreens umbered.

“Eddie,” you said, touching his sallow cheek. “Eddie, don’t leave me.”

He rolled onto his back, coughing a mix of black and red. It splattered his reviving face. The eyes that stared at you were the Bambi brown you adored. Red bloomed across his clothes in blurry slashes and discs.

“No no no no no…”

A pained, distant roar rang through the woods.

You clambered for the side-seam of your shirt. You could use the fabric to wipe the caustic liquid from his skin. Then you had to stop the bleeding. He couldn’t— Not like this. You wouldn’t let him— Not when you could make it right.

His shaking hand made its way to your face, fingers warm on your cheek.

His voice was thick when he said, “Sweetheart…”

You knew what he was going to say, the jerk.

Tearing an uneven strip from your shirt, you said, “Shut up, no.”

His eyelids fluttered and hand dropped to the ground.

“You gotta take ‘im out then.”

“You’re more important.”

He grinned, eyes half-closed and teeth red with blood.

“You flatter me.”

“Quit distracting me.”

You wiped at his chin first, then his cheeks and neck. There had to be a way to get Vecna and heal Eddie at the same time. His bloodstains grew. Time was running out.

“Far be it from…” He panted. “From me…”

“Oh my God, will you be quiet?!”

“Impossible.”

You laughed despite yourself. A sob bubbled out between breaths. Your tears landed on his top. Ignoring them, you threw the soiled fabric and pressed your palms to the biggest bloodstain on his torso. Thick, fresh blood oozed between your fingers. He winced and tensed. You told him to relax.

He breathed, “Fuckin’ bats…”

That was right, the demobats had done this. The bats that had been yours, but taken over by Vecna. They’d become part of the hivemind — and maybe you had, too, until your death. Vecna had sent them. Even if they were dead, they remained a part of him. The hivemind was a loop—

Which meant you could send back what they’d done.

Like a karma spell. What went around came around. You couldn’t recall a full spell, but you remembered enough to focus your intention.

“Stay still,” you said, settling on your calves. “Thought of something.”

He gestured he wouldn’t go anywhere.

You closed your eyes to visualize the vague, shadowy form of Vecna superimposed on Eddie.

“Three times three; Here’s what you’ve bid.” You imagined every bite and every tear pulling out of Eddie’s body. “Own what you did.” You pushed the wounds into Vecna. “Reap what you sowed; A torment you’re owed.”

Eddie twitched under your hands. He choked around broken syllables. One of his hands wrapped around your wrist.

That same pained, distant roar came again.

You met Eddie’s distressed eyes.

“It’s okay,” he croaked. “Keep—”

You nodded, shutting your eyes, and repeated the chant, putting more force behind it. He wheezed as his hold loosened. You bent over him as if to shelter him, but it was too late for that.

You said the spell again. Your fingertips dug into his flesh.

“C’mon, you fucking shit.” You repeated the spell at double speed. “Get out!”

A terrible roar vibrated the very air, resounding from every direction. The ground shuddered. Ash showered from the tree canopy. Eddie’s hand fell from your wrist.

You shoved his shirt up. Your bloody fingerprints joined the blood-rimed scars littering his stomach. Despite the healing, his chest stayed unnaturally still.

If he was healed, why didn’t his chest move?

“Eddie?” You tapped his cheek and put a finger under his nose to check for breath. “Eddie?”

When he didn’t respond, and you couldn’t feel him exhale, you rose onto your knees. You hadn’t cast spell after spell, cried pitchers of tears, and literally died to lose him like this.

Those CPR lessons from middle school had better pay off, you thought as you got into position.

You layered your hands at the center of his chest, hoping you weren’t making a mistake. You used your weight to compress his chest in a fast rhythm. After a few seconds, you tilted his chin back, sealed your lips over his, and breathed air into his lungs.

Cycling through compressions and breathing, you began silently bargaining. If he lived, you’d give up anything — Djarums, wearing black, spellwork. If he lived, you’d do anything — tell your parents about you being a witch, volunteer at an old-folks home, bless every person you interacted with. Anything. Anything to get him back. Whatever higher power out there told you to do, you’d do it.

You puffed into his lungs once, twice. You begged him to breathe. He convulsed, feet kicking the dead leaves. You cried out in relief before resting your forehead on his shoulder. His head flopped to the side as he coughed and sputtered.

His voice was thready as he said, “Ow.”

You straightened and held his cheek. He didn’t pull away from your touch or stiffen, but something in his body language shifted. Like you made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t want you to know you made him uncomfortable.

“Can you breathe okay?” you asked, withdrawing your hand from his cheek. “Any sharp pain?”

“No, just… just sore.”

You nodded, gnawing on your lip, and rubbed your dirty palms on your thighs.

He asked, “Vecna’s alive, isn’t he?”

You nodded again.

With your left eye still cursed, you had to assume so. You’d failed. Sure, you’d injured him. Maybe that would work in El’s favor. Maybe that would be enough.

You glanced at Eddie. He lay in the dead leaves, scrubs bloody and morgue tag around his toe.

Injuring Vecna wasn’t enough. Leaving it to El wasn’t enough.

“I think I can kill him.”

Eddie strained onto an elbow. You reached for him, then stopped short. You didn’t want to make him uneasy. He closed his eyes as he breathed through obvious discomfort.

He asked, “What do you need?” before opening his eyes.

“Nothing.” You swallowed. “I just need to concentrate.”

In the meantime, ash had ceased falling through the withering trees. Chittering from the demodogs had quieted as well. You took that for a good sign. It was time to hit Vecna while he was down.

However, if using magic made Eddie uncomfortable, you wouldn’t do it in front of him.

“Rest here,” you said and scooted back on your knees.

Your gut twisted and muscles quivered. The back of your neck twinged.

“Where—”

“I’ll be over there.” At random, you pointed to your right. “It won’t take long.”

You stood on flimsy legs. The woods spun and became fuzzy. The ground tilted. You caught yourself on aching, tired arms as you collapsed to the side.

Eddie said, “Don’t—”

“No,” you said. “I can do this.”

You shook yourself alert before attempting to stand again. This time, you rose by degrees. Your knees still wobbled, and your fatigued thighs complained, but you stood. You couldn’t give up. Vecna still lived.

Eddie said your name like a question.

You assured him it would be alright. Then, taking deliberate, deep breaths, you heel-toed it to a tree a few yards away. After rounding the trunk, you slumped. The bark caught on your shirtsleeve and flecked away in brittle pieces.

You sank to your knees, skeptical of your ability to stand again. That doubt hardly deterred you. If Vecna died after this spell, you’d sleep off the exhaustion here.

You leaned your shoulder on the trunk and closed your eyes. Even though you had no idea what Vecna looked like, you knew his energy. You threw a silent prayer out to guide the Eradix spell. No one else should be harmed.

Enough people had suffered because of Vecna.

You bowed your head and fisted your hands. “Radicitus scindo, vlaen forma,” flowed from your lips without thought. Thunder boomed nearby. You repeated the incantation, thinking of an arrow nocked. Again, you repeated it. You loosed the arrow. It blazed through the air, its tip glinting sharp and true.

You wet your lips, tasting steel. Each word of the incantation rocked you forward. Your arrow glided through smoke and lightning, a cage of lies, a temple to misery. Dark secrets yielded like the earth to a shovel.

Clouded eyes widened when the arrow struck.

Vines like veins burst to hemorrhage inky bile. It flooded the blood-soaked land in a torrent of black. The red sky turned gray. Screams, mighty and meek, crashed across realities. Pillars housing relics of despair crumbled.

Countless hands rose from the inhospitable depths to flay burnt, corrupted flesh. They whispered his name; your incantation beneath. He attempted to drive them away, but the dead were relentless. They didn’t know pain or exhaustion. There was no torment he could show them to make them cower.

They pulled at his neck, his scalp, his open mouth. He gurgled and choked on decades of his own creation. Pieces of him disintegrated, leaving swirls of gray in the ichor’s black mirror.

The dead dragged him under at last. Then there was silence, like the brief hush after a long exhale.

His inner world fragmented with a bellow of thunder. The last beat of his desiccated heart. Fragments became slices became scraps became splinters became particles — until there was nothing.

Not even your arrow remained.

Cool droplets landed in your hair, slunk down your forehead. You opened your eyes to a murky woodland. Raindrops trickled over trembling leaves. You blinked before bringing your fingers in front of your left eye. You could see them.

The curse had been lifted. Vecna was dead. Was Max awake? There was no reason to think she wasn’t.

With a grin, you called, “Eddie?” and spread your hands on the damp soil.

Only the peaceful tip-tap of drizzle answered.

“Eddie, are you there?”

Using the trunk for balance, you stood. Your rubbery legs held your weight, but you wouldn’t trust them to run a marathon any time soon. You held onto the trunk and inched around it.

Eddie was gone. The used strip of your shirt lay amongst the leaves as evidence he’d been there.

You left the safety of the tree, heading to where you’d left him. You examined the ground to determine where he’d gone, because you couldn’t linger while a storm gathered. Trampled leaves offered some direction. You followed the trail, yet the surrounding woods remained unfamiliar. Of course, you reasoned, you hadn’t exactly been surveying the land as you ran from him.

Step by aching step, minute after barren minute, your heartbeat sped. Your chest constricted. He wouldn’t abandon you. Your shirt dampened with chilly rain and new sweat. He wasn’t callous. The trees all looked alike. You assured yourself you weren’t walking in circles.

Ahead, leaves crunched in uneven strikes. Like tottering footsteps. You opened your mouth to call for Eddie, but you stopped short. That could be anyone. You huddled behind the nearest tree. They could be a soldier or a lone vigilante or an injured demo-creature.

Lord, you hoped it wasn’t a demo-creature.

You put a hand over your mouth and nose to muffle your breathing. Footsteps shuffled past. You stole a quick look, recognizing the dark hair and green scrubs. You slumped and caught yourself before you fell.

“Eddie?”

He spun to face you and winced.

“Hey, I—” He bounced on one foot. “Goddammit…”

He bent and did something at ground-level the leaves obscured. You stood and eased from your hiding spot. He staggered before crowing. He sounded like his old self, which made you smile.

He straightened, holding the morgue tag aloft.

“Fucking thing’s annoying.”

“I bet.” You wiped water from your forehead with the back of your hand. “Where’d you go?”

“Found us a ride.”

“My car’s parked at the hospital.”

“We’ll get it later.” He approached you, tucking the tag in the shirt’s breast-pocket, and held out his hand. “C’mon, our chariot awaits.”

You dried your palms on the sides of your jeans.

“Are you sure?”

He frowned, his hand dropping to the side.

“Sure about what?”

“That you want me touching you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Before… After I…” You sighed and shook your head, too tired to explain. “Nevermind.”

“Hey,” he said, drawing near to cup your cheek with a trembling hand. “We’re—uh… We’re good, alright? I’m… good.”

You put your hand over his and leaned into his touch.

“Me too.” You gave him a wry look. “Under the circumstances.”

He grinned.

“Yeah, your eyes are the same color now.”

You returned the grin.

“Yeah, you’re breathing.”

His grin widened.

“What a pair we make.”

He extracted his hand and offered it for you to take. You curled your hand around his palm. His fingers tightened. That certain touch was enough to keep you going, though neither of you could walk at a brisk pace.

“Sorry if I freaked you out by disappearing back there,” he said as he picked his way through the underbrush. “I wasn’t leaving-leaving, but I knew it was safe. I… I knew you were safe.”

You squeezed his hand in affection before offering your socks to protect his feet. He refused, albeit kindly, explaining he didn’t want to stick around long enough to put them on.

“Are there demo-whatevers out there?” you asked.

“Dead ones.”

“Holy shit.”

“It’s a goddamn mess, but the truck can handle it.”

“Truck?”

“Unlocked. Looked like the owner left in a hurry.”

You didn’t blame them.

He asked, “Where do you want to go?”

With a sigh, you mentally deliberated. Your house was across town. Or at least, you thought it was. His might be closer, but there’d been a gate in its ceiling. No doubt that had turned into the start of a fissure. So that was out. Getting your car from the hospital meant driving close to the nexus — and the heart of the battle.

The underbrush yielded to a carpet of mown grass. Eddie rubbed his feet on it, muttered how much nicer it’d been when he hadn’t felt pain.

The cloudy sky was just a cloudy sky that promised steady rain. The tower of smoke from the nexus had vanished. You’d never experience this level of stillness and quiet. No whoosh of cars, no conversations, no television or radio, no pet noises, no chirping birds. It was like you and Eddie were the last people in Hawkins.

Even so, Eddie hadn’t joked when he said the street was a mess. Demo-creature bodies littered the pavement and yards. Some shaped like canines, others like spindly humanoids, but all their petaled mouths and clawed hands lay limp and bloody.

You whispered, “Holy shit.”

This was what the predators you’d heard months ago looked like. The lamprey-like tooth on your necklace came from them.

The rain started coming faster.

Eddie gave your hand a gentle tug.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

You nodded, letting him lead you across yards, through rusting gates, and around painted sheds. He guided you to the passenger side of a maroon-and-white pickup truck parked in front of a detached garage. The worn interior smelled dusty, but you cracked the window as Eddie slid behind the steering wheel.

He unclipped the steering column and pulled a socket of wires loose. From the bundle, he chose two wires and yanked them from the socket. Using his shirt hem as insulation, he twisted the wires together. The dash lights and radio lit. Static gushed from the speakers. You turned the volume knob until the radio clicked off. He nodded in thanks and pulled another wire loose to graze it with the twisted wires.

Sparks blinked across the exposed metal.

The engine rumbled to life. You hooted in delight and drummed on the dashboard. Eddie beamed at you, revving the engine.

He gave the locked steering wheel a good heave. Metal pinged from inside the steering column. He turned on the windshield wipers and shifted the truck into Reverse.

“Where to, my lady?”

“Well, I’ve been staying at Steve’s, so…”

With a sly look, he asked, “Is there something you wish to tell me?” His eyes widened. “Have I been replaced?”

You chortled.

“It’s not like that.” You poked his upper arm. “I’ll explain on the way there.”

Radicitus scindo, vlaen forma = (butchered latin and dutch) By the roots I tear, to flay the body

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #em tagd #waywardrose writes

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messedupfan · 1 year

Text

The Battle of the Multiverse Part 1

Summary: The enemy has arrived.

A/N: Hello! This story is almost complete! Thank you everyone for following along on this journey! I have loved all of the reactions on the posts and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

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Not a single member wakes up until well into the next day. Their bodies desperately needed the rest. Although the Nexus beings cannot get as drunk as they had the night before with normal alcohol a mortal being were to consume, the beverages you provided the Nexus were not made for any mere mortal. In fact, the few non-Nexus that are on the team that wanted the challenge got wasted off of a sip of the stuff.

Luckily, none of the Nexus are tired or hungover. In fact, they haven't been this energized and alert since the failed recruiting mission. Since they began to only live and breathe training. Since they were too afraid to sleep, not wanting to witness another one of themselves dying. Since they lost most of their simulations.

You and Wanda are among the last few to come out of their rooms. With your night being the only one interrupted, you and your wife are the only ones tired. You want to warn them. But figured it was no use. They know what they signed up for. You don't need to remind them of what’s at risk.

Everyone greets the two of you with suspicious smirks, taking notice of your late arrival and tired eyes. You shake your head at Thor and Carol for their insinuating brow raises as you take your seat next to Wanda. Though they weren't wrong, they didn't need to know that. Wanda leans her head on your shoulder and you wish the two of you were safely at home, snuggling on the couch, watching some bad reality show. But you can’t dwell on that too much. It was just another reason to fight to win.

“Alright, team,” Raven claps her hands as she starts the meeting. She has everyone pay attention to a monitor playing the last unsuccessful run through of the plan. You make notes of actions you could have done better and mark a few things down of your teammates as well. But, you keep most of your focus on yourself because at the end of the day, that’s the only person you need to worry about making mistakes.

A loud explosion outside catches everyone’s attention. Raven stops the stream and looks around the room. “Where’s Jean?” She looks at the faces around the room as she realizes she hadn’t noticed her friend's absence. Another loud explosion has most of the people in the room running to the nearest window to find the source.

“It’s the cannons I set up to warn us of her arrival,” Vision says, still sitting in his seat. “She’s here.” He rises and scans the room for his device. “Raven,” he pulls out the broken device from where it had been hidden after being destroyed.

“What is that?” You ask as you look at the odd object in the robot's hand.

“Where the hell is Jean?” Raven shouts as she makes it across the room before Carol stops her.

“We’ll send someone to find her, but right now, we need you to lead us,” Carol says with both hands on the woman's shoulders.

Raven shakes her head, “You don’t understand, I need to find her. Before she does something stupid.”

“I’ll go find her,” Carol volunteers, she wastes no time in running out the door and starts the search for the Phoenix.

Raven clears her mind, she couldn’t let herself get stuck on what Jean possibly did. For all she knows, a few of the Asgardians found it and played with it like it was a toy. It couldn’t have been Jean. She wouldn’t do that. Right? Another cannon goes off and it springs the shapeshifter into action. “Vision, get the forcefield ready. We want her trapped with us as much as possible.”

“Already on it, once she is in the perimeter, it will activate,” Vision confirms.

“Thor, get your army outside and ready to fight,” Raven turns to the God. He marches out of the room to get his people to the frontlines. “Everyone else, get in your positions. You know what you need to do.”

You look at Wanda and swallow hard. This is why you had the nightmare last night. It wasn’t a warning to quit. It was a warning of her arrival. Wanda squeezes your hand, knowing exactly what was on your mind. You aren’t ready for this. It can’t be happening. The Scarlet Witch can’t be here already. What had kept her away this long? Why did it have to be today?

Carol returns on her own with wide eyes, “Okay, don’t be alarmed–”

“Where is she?” Raven shouts.

“She wasn’t in her room, I couldn’t find her anywhere,” Carol admits.

The blonde woman shuts her eyes, there wasn’t time for this. They had to continue on without her. Trust that she would pull through. Trust that her friend knew what she was doing. “We have to go on without her. Simon,” she summons the Wonderman forward. “Do you think you can take Jean’s position?”

“Yes ma’am,” then he hesitates, his skill set isn’t Jean's, he might not be able to cover her position properly. But there wasn’t time to go looking for her. He had to step up.

“Good, now go. We don't know how much time we have to execute the plan,” as Raven says this, there is a massive explosion outside that shakes the building. “Vision,” she turns to the synthezoid rapidly typing away on his supercomputer.

“She obliterated one of the cannons,” he informs. “We have to move fast.”

With his superhuman speed, Simon runs out of the building and goes to the position that he knows. Doing what he trained for. Not remembering how vital Jean’s role was in his part. With Jean missing from the lineup, the Scarlet Witch sweeps away most of the Asgaurdian army with a deadly wave of her hand and lands right in front of Wonder Man. The man keeps a strong stance, preparing himself to go against everything he believes. Everything he once knew in his heart. He never hurt the Wanda he knew, and to have to hurt this woman felt wrong. She tilts her head with a smirk, hearing the battle in his mind. She knows about the love he once shared with her variant. Knows how heartbroken he was when she ultimately left him.

Simon raises his fists, preparing to emit an ionic energy blast. The purple energy glows in bright strings, wrapping around his arms and meeting full force at his knuckles. His eyes glow as he winds up and pushes his fist out. She stops his punch with her hand causing him to break every bone in his. The man hasn’t felt this sort of pain since he gained his powers. Part of his abilities is that he heals rapidly, but something she must’ve done prevents that from happening. She towers over him as he falls to the ground after facing the full force of his own power blast.

There are weapons and arrows being flung and fired at the Scarlet Witch, but she pays no attention as they are unable to pierce her skin. They either break or bounce off of her magic shield. Those that bounce off impale a few of the soldiers causing them to drop. Simon starts to crawl backwards away from the Scarlet Witch, almost pleading for his life. The corrupted woman takes delight in watching him struggle. She lifts him up by his throat. The red and black wisps of energy wrap tightly around his throat closing his airways.

Simon tries to fight against her but every time he exhibits any kind of power, it weakens him. The Scarlet Witch prolongs the man's suffering as the black magic penetrates through his skin and fills his blood with a poison that paralyzes him and his abilities as she drains him of his energy.

Thor flies in her direction, intending to knock her over with his hammer as he has done many times with enemies bigger than her and seemingly stronger. Except she is much stronger than she appears. While she lets her magic focus on Simon, the Scarlet Witch turns her attention to the God of Thunder just as fast as he was coming at her. She catches the top of the hammer at the palm of her hand, shocking the man that has never witnessed anyone with the capability. Before he can question her, lightning that is coursing through her the way it does him shoots out and destroys his hammer. Creating a massive blast that would throw him into the woods but instead his back hits the forcefield that Vision was successful in activating.

What's remaining of Simon's body falls to the ground at the same moment Thor hits the ground and is knocked out from the impact. The Scarlet Witch grins as the army stands before her, ready to put up their best fight against her. Instead of killing each one of them with a snap of her finger or the bat of an eye, she instead raises the dead members and has them fight against the alive ones. The new zombies charge against the living army with a new strength stemming from the Scarlet Witch herself while she progresses further towards the building.

Ghost Rider blocks her path next with a blazing wooly mammoth. He knocks over her undead army, but not the Scarlet Witch herself. She tilts her head ready to face him and his mammoth head on.

From the window, seeing the effortless damage that the Scarlet Witch was causing you began to panic once again. You thought you could be okay fighting this with Wanda by your side, but you couldn’t. Not this time. You couldn’t gamble her life away like you almost had in the past. Grabbing the device you had arrived here with, you take Wanda and pull her to the side. “You have to go, now! This isn’t up for debate anymore.” You try to set the device to your universe but with the adrenaline pumping through your veins it was hard to remember what number you were.

Wanda pulls her arm out of your grasp, “N-no, I'm doing this with y—”

“Wanda, listen to me!” You cut her off desperately and grab her shoulder. She needed to hear you, this time you wouldn’t let her stubbornness win. “I can't lose you, do you understand?”

“I-I can't…” the words get stuck in your throat as she tries to argue but with the urgency in your voice and fear in your eyes, she can hardly get a sentence together.

“Please, take this, and go home,” you grab her hand and place the device in her hand. Turning it on and making the platform appear for her.

Before she goes, she gives you a desperate kiss. To remind you of everything you have to live for. Remind you of what will be waiting for you on the other side. To tell you everything there isn’t enough time for. “I'll see you soon,” she says as she takes a step back onto the platform. A loud explosion takes your attention away from the last sight you might have of your wife. You run off to throw yourself into the battle.

Making it into the building after slaughtering her way through, the Scarlet Witch searches for her target. This was the worst case scenario for the team. Jean is still nowhere to be seen, Raven is running around looking for her, you are hiding in the area you were meant to be if she made it inside the institution, Carol is next at the frontlines and Vision is still managing and protecting all of the devices. Storm thought a way to keep the Scarlet Witch occupied was to have the ground beneath her concave causing her to be in a twenty foot deep sinkhole. Ororo was an addition to the undead army before Scarlet Witch even made it out of the hole. Charles tried to reason with the woman that once was, but with no luck the demon that was taking over swiftly snapped his neck from inside his mind. Wolverine couldn't get close enough when he charged forward with his adamantium claws out. She made the metal inside of him melt, poisoning his bloodstream much faster than its initial course. Just for safety measures, she then manipulated the metal inside of him to form back into a solid state and expand until every piece of metal was ripping through his skin and bones. When it was clear there was no sign of life in him, she continued on. Thor met an unlucky fate when he attacked her from behind. She spun around and this time instead of going for the hammer, she went for his throat. She pulled his head off as easily as one would with a doll and crushed it like a soda can.

Captain Marvel surprises her with a side attack. She wastes no time in punching her the entire way to the ground. Once the Scarlet Witch hits the ground, Carol digs her head into the hardwood floors. Tearing apart the wood and making a destructive path until the Scarlet Witch has enough and red energy bursts from her sending Carol flying off of her.

“Evil does not suit you, Maximoff,” Carol rises from where the blast had sent her flying into a wall. She rolls her neck and shoulders as she gets ready to go head to head with the redheaded woman again.

The woman is impressed with Carol’s will to continue to fight but is annoyed by her observation. The Scarlet Witch thought this woman's interpretation of evil suited her very well. She enjoyed her current position, finally she was close to having it all without losing it ever again. “It appears that you don't know me very well,” Wanda says as she quietly beckons a vehicle from the parking lot with her magic and takes slow intimidating steps towards Captain Marvel.

Although she can see the physical resemblance, Carol does not recognize this woman at all. She could be seen as broken beyond repair but Carol had to try. She had to prove herself wrong. Her life depends on it. The universe depends on it. “Wrong,” she starts in a strong tone. “You're my best friend,” her voice softens to appear genuine, but is still confident. Certain that this is the same person she knows and that she could bring her back to who she once was. Find the reasoning in her. Find her friend Wanda.

This doesn’t make the Scarlet Witch think twice as she strikes her so-called friend with the first vehicle. “Good, then. It means you'll be easier to kill.” One vehicle after another tries to pin Carol down but none of them successfully hit her. Which bores the Scarlet Witch. She was far too powerful to be wasting her time with destroying property to kill someone. She wanted a real fight. So, after the last car is incinerated by the Captain, the witch makes a deadly rope of magic and swings it at her. Carol is thrown off with the first swing and barely dodges it. However, it does cut through the fabric on the suit of her shoulder and burn her skin. The second time Scarlet Witch swings, Captain Marvel catches the rope and sends a powerful photon blast through it. Sending the other woman clear across the hall.

Scarlet Witch rises with a sinister smirk. “Game on,” she whispers as she hovers in the air. Carol mimics this and floats in the air as well. The two stare at each other with glowing eyes and angry glares before they both charge forward. Their fists charge up with as much energy as they can handle to use. When they meet in the middle it causes a massive explosion that destroys part of the building. The two women that have been blown away from each other are both buried under the contents of the structure.

Carol makes it out first and tries to locate the Scarlet Witch before she can get out. Unfortunately, she wasn’t careful with her step and a hand with blackened fingertips shoots out and pulls her back under the rubble. The Scarlet Witch tries to tap into Carol’s mind and convince her that she is drowning. But the helmet on her prevents anyone from breaking into her mind. It was a gift from her best friend, to protect her.

From his control room, Vision finds Jean running in from the garden and with the communication program he connects to Raven’s earpiece to inform her. The shapeshifter cannot be bothered as she holds her breath waiting to see if Carol is another one of the Scarlet Witch's victims or not.

She fills with relief as the witch is thrown out with the Captain flying up with her glowing fist ahead of her. She knows that she shouldn't run in. She knows she should find Jean. But she can't just stand here and watch and hope for the best outcome. Seeing as Carol is the only one fighting, the odds weren't in their favor. Thinking on her feet, Raven transforms herself into a version of Pietro Maximoff that she was familiar with. Not aware that he wasn't an identical variant.

“Wanda! Please, stop!” Raven calls out in Peter’s voice. The witch pauses in crushing Carol's throat. She looks over and tilts her head at the new presence. “You don't have to keep doing this!”

The Scarlet Witch drops the gasping body to the ground. Carol coughs up blood as she catches her breath. “Why should I stop?” The woman asks as she glides closer to Raven.

“Because, sister, I'm begging you to,” Peter pleads desperately.

The Scarlet Witch casts her eyes down with a sorrowful expression. “I’m so sorry,” she starts as she gets closer to the man. “That you think I would fall for your silly tricks,” she raises her hand out before her and chokes Raven with her deadly strings of magic. Razor sharp spikes penetrate the shapeshifter's skin in order to control her abilities to reveal her true form. “I should thank you though, for doing the hard work for me. You would not believe how difficult it is to find one Nexus Being let alone six of the most powerful.”

“Please,” Raven chokes out as she begs for her life. She manages to catch Carol's eye and the Nexus finds the strength to get up again. She charges her fists, ready to break Raven free.

“Oh alright,” the Scarlet Witch sighs, “I won't make you suffer.” Without so much as a twitch of her fingers, she orders her magic to twist Raven's neck.

“NO!” Carol shouts as she tries to stop the woman but it's too late. By the time she reaches them, all she can do is catch Raven's body before it hits the ground. “I’m so sorry,” Carol says through her tears as she holds the cold blue body in her arms. She doesn't have any time to mourn as she is quickly reminded of the goal. Kill the Scarlet Witch. She lifts her head to glare at her target with glowing eyes as she prepares her body to exert every ounce of her powers as possible.

Carol lets the body fall as she rises and takes steps towards the witch. Screaming at the top of her lungs she launches all of her power at the redheaded woman. Vision drops in behind the witch to help Carol weaken her. Unfortunately, while it does harm the Scarlet Witch, she was able to more easily absorb their powers until it was just her standing with two more bodies added to her count. Leaving you and Jean as the last to put an end to this once and for all.

“Finally,” she says breathlessly as you and Jean arrive at the same time.“All of this,” she gestures to the destruction, “Could have been avoided if the two of you weren't so damn hard to find.” You clench your jaw and glance at Jean, believing it could have been avoided had she not done something and gone missing. You still weren't certain if she was the reason why the enemy had arrived when she did. But you know that her hiding away when she was an important part of the plan is her fault entirely.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jean asks.

The Scarlet Witch doesn't waste time with words. She tests out her new abilities by hitting Jean with a photon blast. Luckily, Jean is able to deflect it with a forcefield of her own and strike back with a power blast of her own. The Scarlet Witch redirects it to you and you manage to catch it and charm it so that it only hits the enemy. When it does, she is unable to absorb it and is knocked down for a second.

The three continue to fight while Wanda hides behind one of the few remaining walls in the destroyed area of the building. She is struggling to figure out where she can insert herself into the fight where it will be most effective. She only has one shot at this. She isn’t nearly as strong and powerful as the rest of her team was. But she is hoping none of that matters in the long run. She takes a step forward to jump at her more powerful variant as she is currently being pinned down by you and Jean.

Then suddenly, everything goes dark.

The Scarlet Witch

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