#asking for violence. asking to be proven wrong. asking to be set back right | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ava-young · 8 months ago

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Loyalty. It was the one thing he’d had to prove his entire life. Loyalty to his members, loyalty to his leader, and loyalty to the way of life. There was nothing that he could do to stray from it; he had proven himself many years ago and through deep loyalty, he got to be where he was now.

They had many interesting dealings. They worked just under the surface of the bright, beautiful world. Darkness tore through everything he did. Every decision he made, every person he spoke to, it was all calculated to best further their agenda and keep their line of work safe. He’d thrown himself into the line of fire by making the wrong choices one too many times and he reaped the consequences of it. He took the punishments as they came, any one that they saw fit to give him, and that was exactly how it worked.

They had to prove their loyalty or things would go wrong. Very wrong.

So when Jonathan Russo had become a problem, he had had no qualms about proving his loyalty. Not only did the man’s less then stellar actions prove to be dangerous for them, they also put everything Ricky had built at risk. The life he had won for himself fighting tooth and claw to get here, the life he’d given up so much to get. And yes, he lost a lot in the process but it was worth it to be where he was now. It was worth it to become the man he was, no matter how deeply entrenched in blood and violence he was.

Loyalty had to be proven, so he had not hesitated to pull the trigger on Jonathan.

And it was a shame, really. Jonathan had, for the brief period before he turned out to be a snake beneath the flowers, been an otherwise nice man. He’d almost fit right in with them and offered more connections to them. He’d been charming and intelligent and cunning. It made perfect sense that he would think he could double cross them; the man had shared stories of dealings in many walks of life, from something simple in their vibrant but dark town to as far as the pretty Italian countryside. Places Ricky could only ever dream of going.

But the thing Jonathan Russo had that many of them didn’t was his caramellina. A love. A person he went home to at the end of the day. A person who knew him as he wanted to be known.

Ricky could only hope for such a luxury; a being on this Earth who would look at him and see the man he wanted to be. A good man who did good deeds. A good man whose little acts of good could outweigh the far larger sins he committed when the sun had set. He was jealous of Jonathan in that regard, jealous that he could find something saintly and warm, something easy to be when his caramellina looked into his eyes and held him.

He never asked about this girl. He didn’t care to — he didn’t see a picture or hear a name or ask for either — but as he sat in the bar now, eyes watching Ava as she regarded him with doe eyes, her touch tantalisingly close, he thought of having his own caramellina . A girl he might’ve taken home with him if he didn’t see the flashing sign behind her — a sign in the bar but a warning sign too. A warning to heed.

(”Look out for the scrappy ones,” Jonthan had warned him one night. Just a few days before everything would fall apart and Ricky would commit the worst sin to protect his people. “They’re the ones who take your heart.”

Ricky said nothing as he looked at the man, as he eyed him, and then shifted back to slotting the bullets back into his magazine. Slowly, meticulously. A warning of sorts, one he hoped Jonathan would understand — run back to your caramellina, he was begging, so I don’t have to do this.)

Ava would be, by all accounts, the complete opposite of scrappy. She seemed intelligent and cunning. She seemed charming and easy to follow down a dangerously dark rabbit hole. He was letting her grasp his hands and drag him down into a world he wouldn’t get out of without clawing his way through the beings who lay there.

“Me…” His words came out a little amused, his head shaking. He wasn’t a heavy drinker nor was he easily swayed by having some alcohol dancing on his tongue but here he was, willing to offer up any scrap of himself because he could, perhaps, have his own caramellina. “You are much too forward, Ava. And if it were that easy… the whole world would know who I am and perhaps… Perhaps that would spell my doom.”

His words lingered in the air between them, sitting heavily on his shoulders. He could not take them back once they had been spoken and this — whatever it was between them was becoming dangerous. It was becoming thick with need and desire for something more. He could spill his heart out to Ava here and now, speaking only to her in this crowded bar, and he could confess his sins. He could kneel before her altar and ask her for forgiveness for things she could not forgive him for. She had no authority to cleanse him and she had no sense of what he had done.

(This has to be some kind of joke.

The gun weighed heavily in his hand. You knew what you were doing.

I know you’re better than this. Better than them.

You don’t know me.

Fine. But I — I never said goodbye to her. My caramellina, my A—

The burst of the shot. The recoil travelled up his arm. He would feel the sensation for weeks, months, years after.)

Her laugh. Sweet and kind. The joke of the world tourist being applied to her. They’d called Jonathan that a lot, until it no longer applied, until he was as much a Los Angeles boy as the rest of them. Until he was on the ground and the life left him quicker than life should have left somebody.

Ricky didn’t want the same to happen to Ava. He doesn’t want her caught up in their world.

As she extended her hand, a light offering that should have been simple, he felt a tug at his stomach. His phone. There was more in that than he cared to admit to but — but he couldn’t spend his entire life wary of strangers, worried that they would find some way to disrupt him and his life. What reason did she have to search through his texts? His emails or the images he took to confirm deals? What reason would she have to search for that right in front of him too.

So, Ricky relented.

Their exchange of phones was much like a deal; he handed his over, the passcode already put in so she would have no trouble, and he accepted hers. There was a brief hesitation in his actions; he wasn’t sure how to do this. He was a man of brief, casual encounters. He’d never expected to be the kind who would give his number to another. It seemed so permanent, as though he were setting her up for a life that she wasn’t ready for. A life she couldn’t enter without getting hurt.

(“You shouldn’t have done this, for your caramellina’s sake.”)

He typed his number in easily, saving it under as his own name before he handed it back to Ava. The phone placed in her hand and his fingers brushed her palm. Soft and sure, yet there was a roughness to it, like she was used to using her hands. Soft but rough. A gentle brush but a spark that shot up through his arm and irritated the dull ache from pulling the trigger.

He doesn’t move right away, instead hesitating with their hands joined. His stomach clenched and it felt like his world was seconds from erupting. “He’s going to ask either way.” He spoke casually, as though his whole world hadn’t been thrown into a tailspin. “He’ll wonder why such an… interesting girl wants to spend time with me.”

It hurt to smile then — he didn’t think he deserved to — but he did and slipped his hand out from Ava’s. His own caramellina. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Ava.” Ricky warned but his voice was gentle, like honey to draw in even the smartest, most cunning predator. “Or you just might regret this.”

@ava-young

Perhaps that would spell my doom.

The words Ricky uttered caused her to hesitate, to bite her tongue in a time where she'd pry a little more. Most patrons like him would have continued with a joke, or made a vague, passing comment to avoid the topic, but Ricky… He was different. He was unexpected and Ava, for all her wits and clever words, was at a loss at what to say.

In a world such as theirs, the truth –no matter how little, no matter how diluted– was a perilous little thing that was rarely ever spilt or said. The truth, in a world constantly built and fashioned upon the facade and shifting shadows of men, was almost always too high a currency to dabble and trade in.

Thus, most would rather pay to silence the truth instead, for bloodshed and the life of another seemed cheaper than the cost of their sins being exposed by the light, despite knowing how it could free another or themselves from their own chains and bondages. Selfishness disguised as self-protection seemed prevalent in the veins of those who lived and walked on this earth, and so, for a man seemingly shrouded in darkness as Ricky was to have possibly spoken a truth... It was rare, so very rare.

(And there were nights and days when Ava silently wondered if Jonathan had withhold the truth, just as he did with her when he'd said it was merely just a quick trip. Did he say something he shouldn't have? A truth? Or maybe... A lie? That costed him his life?

Just the thought of it haunted her.)

“Mm… I’m sure you can handle whatever comes your way, though.” She said, voice sweet and blithe, perfectly concealing the burning words and questions that were trying to claw its way out of her throat. It was truly as if Pandora’s box had cracked ever so little, showing her a glimpse of what could be before closing itself tightly again.

Countless of questions floated through her mind, but as her eyes naturally glanced at Ricky’s tattoo once more, a lump in her throat began to form.

As he took her phone, and she took his, Ava began punching in her phone number, swiftly filling her contact details in when a notification popped up. She initially hadn't meant to look, this much was true, but the words of "sorry! Give me a sec" and "I'm not used to your phone." naturally flowed out of her lips the moment her eyes skimmed over the content of the message.

[ TEXT: "Yo. XXX meeting tonight at 11. You coming?]

Ava felt something drop in the pit of her stomach. Her calm stature belying the way her heart was beating in that moment.

It was as if time, the one thing that spared her no mercy all this while, had finally stopped moving. Finally found the grace to let her process what she'd just seen, to let the very fact sink in that everything she'd wondered (hoped) about Ricky was answered in just one text message.

Ricky, the man that had caught her attention ever since he came into the bar, the one who made her heart beat differently than all the others she'd come across, was the missing piece she'd been searching for all this time. He was the one she'd been looking for ever since she came to Los Angeles seeking answers from anything or anyone that she could find or dig up.

It took everything in her not to grab his hand when he placed back the phone in her hand, took everything in her entire soul not to beg him for the answers she'd been searching for all these years in exchange for anything he wanted. Patience, she reminded herself shakily, for if he held the very thing she needed, then what was waiting for an hour more? Or a day? Or a month, or even a year? For as desperate as she might have been, who was she, ultimately, to barter and negotiate with someone like him? Who was she to think and assume he'd simply give her what she so desired simply because she begged and told him the truth? She'd been in this for far too long to act on impulse and emotions. Far too long to fully know that someone such as herself would add no value to Ricky's life (She was only but a girl just getting by in his eyes, a nobody in a city like theirs, afterall).

Ava knew better, and so, she'll play better. Take the slow and narrow road no matter how desperate she truly was or how painful it would be.

It'll be worth the wait, she repeats to herself, patience, patience, patience.

It took her entire being to not break in front of Ricky as she mustered a smile, finally passing him back his phone but, as Ricky passed hers back, their hands briefly joined; his resting atop hers.

Oh...

For a moment, it was as if her mind calmed. His touch and slight warmth stilling the storm raging about in her heart. She didn't know what to think of it, much less react, but there was undeniably something comforting about it. Something about it that made her want to hold on just a little longer, this comfort. This warmth that she hadn't felt in a long, long time.

And in that second, Ava couldn't help but wonder if, perhaps, Ricky longed for the kind of comfort and warmth she did too. And if he did... Then, maybe, just maybe, she might be able to find a way to slip into his life after all.

"Are you sure he wouldn't be wondering the opposite?" She hummed, tilting her head. "Why such an interesting guy would be giving attention to the likes of someone like me."

With a renewed spirit and hope, Ava leaned against the counter, eyes glimmering as she smiled just as sweet (just as dangerous) as his honeyed words. "I think I do and... It's is a risk I'm willing to take."

"Message you later?"

#Was this my best?? Maybe not!! 😭 but I'll get it next time & deliver the feels better the next round...! :')#i love u hijacking jon for this btw #it made this whole thing so ANGSTY for our Rava and gave more insight on Ricky i love it #also I REALIZED WE NEVER GOT A NAME FOR HIS GANG JFHDKSJ so I wrote it as “XXX” for now 🤣

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dysfunctjon · 11 months ago

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I’m tired of people telling me it will be okay. As if I’m some sort of martyr for going through trauma I didn’t ask for. I’m tired of it defining who I am. I am tired of complaining about it. I am tired of being told how strong I am, how I can handle it and have dealt with these things before. In that case is my life worth living knowing there will never be a set time in my life where I’m happy? Where my entire world can flip around and switch on my own brain and then I’m stuck discovering ways to kill myself for months? This is the lowest I’ve ever been. I don’t know if I can keep going lower, but yet again, I get proven wrong every time I wake up. It is sick. This shit is sick. I sincerely don’t know who I am anymore. It’s like a mirror shattering and millions of shards scatter across the ground and I am then demanded to fix it and piece it back together. There are so many cuts on my hands and the glass rests itself in there while I attempt to fix something completely unsalvageable. I am far gone, and completely incapable of saving. I have no personality, interests, hobbies, talents, looks, or anything. I don’t feel anything. I am genuinely a walking skeleton with decently working organs with no purpose other than to showcase people what you should not aspire to be. I am barely alive. Im conscious, but there is nothing there. I am yelled at and scolded inside of my own brain. There are so many unrecognizable people and unfamiliar voices in my brain telling me how bad they wish I was dead. I’ve been hearing this shit forever. I don’t know why I have not gathered the courage to do it. I’m scared because I don’t know if there’s anything after this, meaning there is genuinely no escape for me. The fact that I’ve been in deadly situations yet I’m still alive makes me feel as if this is God’s personal purgatory for me. I can’t succeed in killing myself, getting into car accidents, almost having my house destroyed, violence, or anything because God will always find a way to keep me here to torment me forever. I will lose no matter what I do. I want to die. I’m so tired of existing. Even the good things that happen to me never completely satisfy me because I’m such an ungrateful brat. I don’t even have the right to complain about most of this because I have all of my answers in front of my face yet I don’t take them. Now that’s another problem. I don’t know why I can’t push myself to do it. Is it because I’m comfortable here? I feel the opposite. I feel miserable and from the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep I think about just how great it would be if I died. I have prayed to God to kill me off. I have prayed to deities to kill me while I sleep, or to kill me in any way they see fit. They’re keeping me alive to progress forward, only to rip away everything again in the future. I don’t know who to believe, to rely on, to trust, or to support. I’m so tired of needing to go through this all. I know life is hard, that life changes both negatively and positively, but it feels like I’ve been on a downward slope heading straight down to hell. I was doomed before my mother even birthed me. I will always hate her for not throwing herself down a flight of stairs to kill me. I will always hate her for not getting an abortion. I will always hate her for not strangling me in my sleep when I was a child. I will always hate her and my father for forming me into this amalgamation of a human being, if you can even call me one. I am nothing. I am complete, utter garbage compared to everyone else. I am worthless. I don’t know what makes me happy anymore, I don’t know what I like, I don’t know who I am. My brain eats itself everyday. My heart gets less functioning everyday. My liver begs me to stop drinking because truthfully, it doesn’t even help me cope anymore. Nothing does. Not art, not music, not self harming, not smoking, not drinking, nothing. Am I doing this to myself? I don’t even know. I’m not here most of the time. I am off somewhere unfamiliar and I don’t know where that place is.

There’s never a moment of silence in my head, and it’s always rapidly spiraling and going so many miles per hour I don’t know what to believe anymore. I have gotten so desperate and I’m need of help that I’ve reached out to God on so many different occasions and I think all he does is listen and laugh at me. I don’t know what I have done in this life or the last that has made me a complete embarrassment to society. I am in the process of isolating away from everyone because I can’t trust them anymore. I don’t like anybody anymore. Not even the people that make me the happiest do that anymore. It hurts. I am lost. I have been so fucking depressed that I don’t even think depression is the right word. I wish that I was killed off every single day. I have written so many suicide notes and they rest dormant in my beside drawer where all of my blades and empty alcohol bottles are. This is a cry for help. I’ve tried everything and it seems like there is nothing I can do anymore. It makes me feel sick. I wish that I could feel normal. I don’t know what to do, or how to get myself to care about anything anymore. I’m so miserable.

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primojade · 3 years ago

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【 # 001 】 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

fallacy (n.) : are flawed, deceptive, or false arguments that can be proven wrong with reasoning.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : As a veteran AR60 player of Genshin Impact, you pride yourself as someone who knows the ins and outs of Teyvat, even studiously completing Spiral Abyss every reset, and having 100% exploration to some, if not all, of the released regions so far. Everything is fun and enjoyable, especially since Sumeru just recently debuted so you still have a lot to do!

All that ends though, when a mysterious passerby pushes you off the building of your university while playing Genshin. But instead of meeting your inevitable end, you find yourself waking up in the very world you were addicted to!

It's supposed to be a fun dream, right? Something you could laugh at when you wake up? Right?! So, why is that you were back in AR1 with nothing but a dull blade in your inventory?!

…well, at least you still have those 700+ sunsettias and mints, Timmie's fowls…and surprisingly similar game mechanics you used to merely see on the screen before. But what should you do now? Flirt with the Genshin men??? Good lords...

"Welcome to Genshin Impact, Dreamer. Here, we can show you a happier ever after you've never had before…so, ready?"

𝐂𝐖 / 𝐓𝐖 : graphic depiction of violence; possible character death (on bad ends so choose your route wisely!); multiple endings (including good, bad, normal and secret ends); canon divergent, game mechanics, existential crisis, character study.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : isekai/reverse isekai, choose your own adventure (cyoa) with branching narratives, romance, comedy, angst (depending on the routes), hurt with/without comfort (still depends on routes), action, mystery, found family.

𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 : albedo, tighnari, zhongli, cyno, xiao, diluc, venti, ayato, kaveh, kazuha and tartaglia. Possible more love interest as the story progresses.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 : on-going

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 :

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 : that love is a fallacy.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 : alea iacta est. (the die is cast)

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈 : argumentum ad hominem.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈 : argumentum ad ignorantiam.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈: audentes fortuna iuvat. (fortune favours the bold)

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈.𝐈 : magister dixit.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈.𝐈𝐈 : argumentum petitio principii.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈.𝐈 : ignoratio elenchi.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈.𝐈𝐈: cum hoc ergo propter hoc.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 : veritas liberabit vos. (the truth will set you free)

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 : —

tba...

"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅" 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒

𝐈 | odi et amo ; ( gn!reader × scaramouche ) ; in which scaramouche reveals you the reason why he hates you so much. But in the silence that comes after his hatred is revealed, and from the unspoken words that never leave his lips, would it be too selfish to ask for something more than this?

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 :

reader here is gender neutral, so if I happened to have a pronoun slip by accident, please do correct me. I swear it was a honest mistake cause I don't really proofread my works :3

that being said, although reader should based off of you, as in you reading this, reader has their own background prior to their arrival in teyvat. Down below are some of the changes/characteristics I took the liberty to add to the reader's persona and history to fit in the story!

(i.) reader is a university student studying science or other related field (their specialisation differs in each route to make it interesting). though i did not specify their age, appearance and race (feel free to imagine them whichever), they were supposed to be in the middle of taking their college degree.

(ii.) reader has an adoptive older brother (who would be important in the storyline later on).

(iii.) reader is presented to be quite reckless, a bit ditzy, chaotic, an unhinge and lively character, rebellious, hardheaded, opinion oriented, and wouldn't bend to rules that they see as pointless no matter how the society dictates them to do so, but they were kind and carefree when you get to know them more. you'll see what I'm talking about in the first chapter 😂

before I forgot, although I'm a huge fan of the sagau presented in tumblr (the one with creator and cult themes; those are chef kiss btw), my take on the plot of sagau is very different. There's no divine creator here or cultish behaviours (i'm so sorry if that's what you're looking for 😷) my main focus here is all about the genshin characters' self awareness that they were in a game as they interacted with the isekai!reader, which is why I added the reverse isekai in the genre tags because it will be a huge turnover in the future chapters :>

also, the game mechanics I'm talking about above is what we see on the screen of genshin. Like the Paimon Menu, the inventory, the character archive, and so on! When reader is isekaid, it seems like they brought the whole screen with them? XD

I know stuff will probably be confusing for you and me later on because of the branching narratives happening in this hellhole of a plot, but please bare with me xD I will do my best to make it clear as possible.

This fanfic has four types of routes (or ends if you prefer it that way), There are good ends (romantic happy ending all the way!), bad ends (if you're unlucky that you fall in the dramatic hellhole then yes), normal ends (this could end in either being platonic, a cliffhanger or an open ending up to your interpretation lmao), and lastly, the secret ends (i'll keep whatever this is hidden for now because I planned something huge for this lol).

a "what if" routes are a series of one-shots, short stories or drabbles that was not really connected with the primary routes. It could be read as a standalone fics. Possibly just my word vomit and brainrotting lmao. They also don't have any branching narratives like the primary routes.

well! that is all, i guess! I'll add something later if I remember stuff I should be telling you beforehand but for now, i guess this would do xD also, if you wanted to be tagged for this, feel free to dm me or send an ask about it! Thank you for reading all the way and I hope you will have fun (and a good laughs!) while you were reading this trash of a fanfic lmao 🤣

Ps. I'll try to post the prologue tomorrow since its already half finished already <3

#genshin impact #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #diluc x reader #venti x reader #kazuha x reader #ayato x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral reader #jaded moments—!#genshin sagau #sagau

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cosmickid-inmotion · 2 years ago

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Darkness on the Edge of Town: Chapter 1

Joel Miller X Reader

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Summary: While heading home for a mandatory lockdown, Joel stumbles on something he wasn't supposed to see with FEDRA guards and steps in. This, unfortunately, lands with him spending unexpected time with a young woman. Oh, and there's only one bed.

warnings!: attempted gang rape, physical hard with a gun, mentions of blood, canon typical violence, lmk if I missed anything! EVENTUAL SMUT

A/N: This was supposed to be a one shot. Now I'm not sure how many chapters we're looking at. Three minimum. Also, I KNOOOOWWWWW this follows the biggest Romana trope: Protective! Man protecting a woman. I will not apologize.

EDIT: This was originally posted as an OC fic, because I had bigger plans for it, but I honestly lost a lot of steam on it. I was going to give up on it tbh but someone sent an ask asking about a chapter 2, and I hate to disappoint! So I'll be condencing the story and making it a reader fic. hoping you guys like it! ****************************

As the sun was setting, Joel walked to his home, trying to savor the last of the outside he’ll have for the next couple days. The local government had made a mandatory few day quarantine for no discernible reason other than to exercise control, remind the citizens who was in charge. A week, give or take, without work wouldn’t be great by any means, but Joel and Tess at least had a partnership, so they weren’t completely on their own. This week, however, Tess was gone. She was making a trade with Bill and Frank when the lockdown announcement came out, and Joel had to radio over for her to stay there until it ended. This meant that he had a week alone in his tiny apartment room without Tess knocking on his door for one reason or another.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” A woman shouted from the alley he was passing.

Joel’s survival instincts said to keep walking; wasn’t his business, wasn’t his problem, wasn’t him or Tess or any of their allies. He didn’t need to get involved. But Joel knew right from wrong, and as much as he liked to pretend to himself he wasn’t a good person, that he wasn’t the same person he was before Sarah died, he couldn’t keep walking. Plus, Tess would kill him if she knew he walked away from this. Turning down the alley, he saw you being pushed and pulled by some soldiers; all men. One pulled you by the shirt so you were flush against him, and you shoved him off yourself, making the young man hit the alley wall. This action earned you a pistol whip, causing blood to come out of you forehead as you cried out, stumbling backwards into the arms of another man, and Joel couldn’t stand back any longer.

“Hey!” He shouted, striding further into the alley. One of the soldiers grabbed your arm, keeping her to him and away from Joel. “What’s goin’ on here?” He said, eyeing the men. He was more or less familiar with them, some he knew their names, some he didn’t but recognized their faces.

One man he had dealt with, a trouble maker who liked to use his power to his benefit and was surround by rumors of his treatment of women. Nothing could be proven, and no real accusations were made; they wouldn’t go anywhere if there had been. His name was Ross, a younger man than Joel was by a few decades, one of those who had been teenagers when shit went south. That age had been terrible in the ‘before’, a time of confusion and soul searching for anyone, and all that had been interrupted by losing everything. This created a lot of inner turmoil that never settled for most. Some killed themselves, some managed it, some became god awful people.

Ross spoke, eyeing Joel with a smirk. “Curfew, Joel, you know the rules.”

“She’s still got ten minutes.” Joel spoke firmly, his stare intense on the younger man, letting him know he wasn’t backing down. His eyes connected with yours. You were about his or Tess’s age, give or take. Everything that happened aged many beyond their years and there was little by way of face moisturizer, none the less anti-aging, so it was a bit harder the guess ages.

Joel wasn’t an idiot, he knew there were different dangers in this world for women, something he’d likely never have to worry about outside of concern for Tess.

Not phased by Joel the way many others were, Ross continued his hold. “She lives on the other side of town, she’s not getting there on time. But don’t worry” He laughed lightly. “We’ll escort her”

If Joel wasn’t certain what they were planning, the way they laughed and smiled at each other told him. With a grunt, you kick your leg hard against his shin repeatedly, causing him to shout and push you off of him to stop the assault on his leg. Joel took the opportunity, grabbing your dirty shirt and yanking you back behind him. Surprisingly, you smack his arm in return. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“I’m trying to help you” Joel grumbled to you.

“I don’t need it” But none the less you stood behind his broad body.

Ross was less pleased now. “Lockdown is in 5 minutes, how you gonna get her home before then, Joel?”

Joel hesitated. This was the last thing he wanted this week, a week where he had an excuse to stay home, be alone and wallow in his own misery, but there was no way he could live with himself if he just left you. “She’ll come with me”

Ross eyed him, obviously irritated that he’s losing. “You didn’t seem like the type to take in a charity case… or do you have some ulterior motives.”

Joel didn’t play games. Turning on a heel, you were now in front of him and he pushed you forward and out of the alley quickly. “Go”

You shoved him off you, whispering harshly. “Stop fucking touching me!”

“Go” But he kept his hands off you.

As they turned the corner, he heard Ross call out to them. “Four minutes Joel!�� His voice echoed mockingly. “Better hurry!”

But Joel was already speed walking.

“Where are we going?” You scrambled after him.

“My place.”

You stopped in your tracks. “I’m not going with you.”

Turning around only briefly, he took one long stride towards her, pointing his finger. “You have two choices. Go with me to my shithole,” He pointed back towards the alley. “Or you can do with them. Up to you.” He saw you glare at him as he turned back around; he did his part and you were an adult, you could make her own stupid choices.

He heard you footsteps. You quickly followed him.

Joel and you barely made it in time.

The room was… a room.

One bed, a beat-up old lounge chair, a dresser, table and two chairs. The ‘kitchen’ was a small stove with a single burner, but it didn’t look very used; the microwave did. To the left there was a door, presumably to the bathroom. You stood in the doorway awkwardly, body tense and stiff.

Joel gestured vaguely around the apartment and grumbled something she didn’t quite understand, but she assumed it didn’t really matter what he said.

“Nice place” You said, looking around.

Looking slightly defensive, he replied. “No one’s making you be here”

You frowned at him. “I was trying to be polite, but fine, you live in a shithole.”

“Yeah, well, this shithole is where you’re stuck for the next few days, unless you wanna risk it with Ross” He said with a little bite, before feeling just a bit bad. When he glanced over at you, you were harshly glaring at him. “I’m Joel” He muttered under his breath.

“Yeah” You scoffed. “I picked up on that between you yanking me around”

Joel turned to face you, crossing his arms in annoyance. “You’re welcome” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Undeterred, you crossed your arms back, hips cocked as you stood in defiance, seeming to consider your next words. Then, as nervousness flickers around your face, you seemed to realize the position you were in. Looking away and to the floor, you spoke softer. “Thank you. I know this isn’t… ideal”

“Don’t worry about it.” He grabbed a flannel shirt and sweats from his drawers and tossed them abruptly at you, then motioned for the bathroom. “Showers o’er there. There's… um…” He hesitated. “Under the sink. If you need em.”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What’s under the sink?”

Running a hand through his hair, Joel turned away and pretended to be suddenly very interested in the lamp. “You’ll see.”

“Sounds like a threat, but okay.” You murmured as you shuffled into the bathroom before stopping and turning around, telling him your name.

He gave a nod, barely acknowledging you as you disappeared into the bathroom. This was going to be a long fucking week.

When you took in the dingy bathroom, you decided to see what he was talking about beneath the sink. When you opened up the small cabinet, you found possibly the last thing you were expecting to see in the bathroom of the world's grumpiest man. Pads. The initial surprise you felt was quickly overtaken with a swell of warmth.

You wondered about the type of man he was before the outbreak. The last 20 years had broken some of the best people down, the need for survival tearing people apart… but you firmly believed good people remained good deep down, someone inside them, even if it only came out when necessary. And today, as you faced down a group of men with evil intentions, it was clear that this was a situation he couldn’t ignore. You’d seen a lot in your years, more than enough for several lifetimes.

The bath felt nice, even if it was lukewarm, as did his clothes, as well worn as they were. When you padded out into the one room place, you saw him standing over what could barely be called a stove.

“It’s just shitty canned soup, you can have some. I don’t got a lot here, but enough to get us through.”

“Thank you. I can pay you back once I get home”

“Hm.” Was his non committal answer.

A pause.

“And thank you for stopping-”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I mean it-”

Joel whipped around, his eyes intense and alight. “I said, don’t mention it.”

You shut your mouth but glared at him, letting him know he was being a dick. And yet, you really weren’t in much of a position to complain, were you? He had saved you from an attempted gang rape, the act of which caused him to have to put you up in his home, share his clothes, his water, his food… All the while giving no indication he had any ill intentions of his own. How many people would do this for a stranger?

He got his food, sitting at the table and once again gesturing vaguely towards the ‘kitchen’, prompting you to get food for yourself. You didn’t feel you weren't exactly wanted at the diner table, so you looked around for another place to eat, moving over to the chair. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d sat on, but it wasn’t the best either. A new problem was glaring as they ate in silence.

There was only one bed.

You piped up. “I can sleep on this chair.”

“Yeah” Was all he responded.

Clearly, he meant for you to sleep there anyway. It was going to suck, but it was better than whatever was planned for you in the alleyway.

Wordlessly, he walked off and shut the door to the bathroom and it wasn’t long before she heard the water running to take his own cold bath. Amazing bedside manner, really. Top tier. You tried to remind yourself you were looking a gift horse in the mouth, and brushed off your bitterness. When Joel immerged, he didn’t look at you as he walked past.

“So,” You started.

“No.”

“How long have you-”

“No.”

“Do you at least-”

A loud groan as he scrubbed his face, signaling you to stop.

You sat there, staring at the wall while Joel went about his business before you heard him call to you. “Hey. C’mere”

You turned around, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why”

“If you want your fucking forehead infected, that’s on you”

“Wait!” You scrambled up, walking over towards him where he had some basic first aid. “Sorry, I-”

“Sit” He directed to the chair at the table, not making eye contact.

Doing as you were told, you sat down at the table, looking up at Joel as he bent over you. You winced as he applied the disinfectant. “You could sit-”

“No” Despite his harsh tone, his touch was gentle, careful, and moving away when you winced.

“So” You tried to start a conversation again. “Joel. That’s Hebrew, right? Are you J-”

“Stop.” Joel briefly put his hands down, standing straight up. From your view on the chair, you suddenly realized how tall he was. His eye contact, when focused on you as it was now, was all consuming. “We’re not friends, we’re not going to come out of this as friends who braid each others hair in pigtails at a sleepover. we’re gonna be lucky if we don’t rip each other's head off. So how about you stop talking, and I stop wondering if I can drown myself in the bathtub every time you ask me a question.” When you didn’t argue, he oh-so softly applied a bit of antibiotic ointment, careful not to waste the little he had.

“Well, that was a bit blunt” You commented as you studied his face. Handsome, older; graying but not falling apart. His accent was southern, but where? You could not place, but that would explain his sense of duty.

“You asked if I was Jewish an hour into knowing me, and out of nowhere. I don’t think I’m the blunt one here” Joel muttered again, but this time there was a hint of… something else. Not quite playful, there was nearly no change in his tone, he was just as gruff as before, but the way he spoke indicated it was almost a joke. Almost. But not quite. He stood up without another word and washed his hands of the antibiotic cream and remaining blood that had oozed out. Grabbing an extra blanket from the drawer, he tossed it at you aimlessly and hit the light.

“Go to bed”

“It’s 8pm”

“Go. To. Bed.”

“Old man”

This received no response from him, but you laughed to yourself.

“Good night Joel.”

A loud sigh was the only response you got.

**************************

I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FOR JOEL SO PLEASE BE NICE! I don't know a whole lot about this universe or the world building so I'm so sorry if this is wrong. But I love Pedro so so so so much and I love TLOU so far!!! Please leave a comment if you like what you see so I know people want more, and reblog if you are so inclined! It's the only way to spread my work on this sight!

Shocker. The fic is titled after a Springsteen song. Joel Miller Listens to Springsteen, Melloncamp and Petty and I will not be taking criticism at this time.

And! Be sure to check out my other Pedro character fic, Take Your Time with my boy Frankie Morales! Tagging some I think may be interested, if you aren't interested in Joel fics just comment to be removed!

My love, @welcometostayingawake @trinkets01 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @luciannadraven33 @howaboutcastiel

242 notes · View notes

dumdumsun · 3 years ago

Text

Break and Mend

A/N: And finally, Chapter Eighteen! Thank you so much to everyone who stuck around for the sequel. I know, with the news of Will's confirmed sexuality, his relationship with Doc kinda lost me some readers, but I promise that I'm working on that. You'll see a lot of changes for them in S3. I'm not ignoring it, I promise.

This sequel was written at a very weird time for me. I had a lot of personal things going on (as per usual) and writing was a really good outlet for me at that time. So, there was a lot of love that went into these 18 chapters and I hope y'all see that. I'm not sure when exactly the third installment will be out. I'm very stressed at college right now and I'm finding it hard to make time to write, but I can surely tell you that it won't take forever because I won't allow that.

For now, though, thank you so so so so much and enjoy this final chapter of "Break and Mend"! Much love to you beautiful people ❤️❤️

Warnings: violence and guns, mentions of seizures, blood and death/dying

Word Count: 9702

—————————————

Chapter Eighteen: The Sacrifice

Steve was the last to drop down into the hollowness of the tunnels. He had geared up the same as the kids with protection over his eyes and mouth from the toxins in the air. “Holy shit.” He whispered to himself, taking in the sight of the tunnel with what light the kids provided with their flashlights. Mike’s light was directed to the map of the area he had drawn.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s this way.” He called out.

“You’re pretty sure or you’re certain?” Dustin asked as Steve hurriedly made his way to the bag on the ground and picked it up. Mike quickly whirled on Dustin with his light.

“I’m one-hundred percent sure. Just follow me and you’ll know.”

When he began further down the tunnel, Steve was right on his heels, his own flashlight turned on now. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, hey, hey, hey! I don’t think so,” He stopped the boy, coming up to stand in front of him. “Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” He took the map from Mike and turned to the kids behind them. “From here on out, I’m leading the way! Come on, let’s go!”

Steve turned around and began down the direction Mike had started, and the kids went marching one by one right behind him.

-------------------------------------------------

El briskly kept up with Hopper’s pace as the two quietly and hurriedly made their way down the hallways of the lab, Hopper leading her with his flashlight and gun in front of him. It was exactly how they left it, except for the Demodogs no longer around every corner. Still, they remained alert just in case they were proven wrong.

Hopper turned and led El down a stairwell, but he froze at the blood smeared on the railing of the next flight down, trailing down the steps and onto the floor. “Stay here.” He commanded her before cautiously walking down the steps. When he rounded to the next flight, he spotted a very familiar body slumped to the ground.

“Oh, shit.”

Dr Owens sat against the wall, his shirt and pant leg bloody with the nasty wounds given to him presumably by the Demodogs he had tried to escape. “Hey, doc.” Hopper whispered out as he set his gun down, slowly crouching in front of him. He shone his light on his still-bleeding leg as Dr Ownes sighed out. “Those suckers got you pretty good, huh?”

Owens opened his mouth to reply, but he was too exhausted and in pain to let out any words.

“It’s okay, don’t talk,” Hopper unzipped his jacket and moved to take off his belt. “Don’t talk. I got you. I got you… I got you.”

Just past the Chief’s shoulder, Dr Owens had spotted someone. When Hopper noticed his stare, he turned his head and nodded at the sight of El, who hadn’t stayed behind. “Oh, yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He turned back around and fastened the belt around the doctor’s leg to stop the bleeding. “This is Eleven. Eleven, Doc Owens. Doc Owens, Eleven.”

El narrowed her eyes at the man. She wondered why he had the same nickname as (Y/N). She wouldn’t be very fond of calling him ‘Doc’, but she wasn’t sure if she would be calling him anything at all. Still, she would have to ask Mike or Doc about it sometime.

“She’s been staying with me for about a year, and she’s about to save our asses.” Hopper continued, stopping what he was doing to stare Dr Owens in his eyes. “Maybe when all this is said and done, maybe you could help her out, too, you know? Maybe you could help her lead, like, a normal life. One where she’s not poked and prodded and… treated like some kind of lab rat, you know? I don’t know, just a thought.”

Hopper suddenly tightened the belt on Owens’s leg for emphasis, the man groaning out in pain. Hopper reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“But, uh… think about it.” He smiled. When Owens tiredly nodded, he pulled his gun out of his holster and handed it to the doctor. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Dr Owens chuckled very weakly with a smile just as weak as Hopper began down the next flight of stairs with El in tow.

-------------------------------------------------

Steve and the kids journeyed through their path within the Upside Down, Steve’s head snapping up and down from the map to the path ahead. When they all flashed their lights up at the ceiling (if you could call it that), they shivered at the spores that pumped with life, blowing the white particles in the air.

“God.” Lucas shuddered.

“What is this place?” Max quietly wondered aloud.

“Guys, come on. Keep moving.” Steve called ahead of them. He led them through a tunnel in front of them without a word of protest from the kids. That was until they heard Dustin screaming bloody murder.

“Shit! Help! Help! Help!”

The four of them rushed to their friend worriedly, who was hurriedly making his way up to them with his equipment in his hands. “Shit!” He cried out and fell to the ground.

“Dustin!” They tried checking him for any wounds or anything, but he was frantically moving around too much. “What happened?”

“It’s in my mouth!” He whimpered. “Some got in my mouth! Shit!”

Mike shone his light above, assuming that he meant the spore above had sprayed him in the face. His light moved back down to Dustin with the others as the boy sat on all fours, hacking his lungs out on the ground. They had no idea what to do, so they watched until anything changed for the better or worse.

After a moment, Dustin spit and then turned his head up at them. “I’m okay.” He softly said. At that, everyone sighed out in annoyance and continued on their journey, but not before muttering their distaste for Dustin’s overdramatic panic.

“You serious?”

“Very funny, man. Nice. Very nice.”

“Jesus, what an idiot.”

Dustin was quick to gather himself and scrambled to keep up with them. “Hang on. Wait. Wait.”

It wasn’t long before Steve slowed his steps to a stop. “Alright, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.” He turned to the Wheeler in question as the kids all stopped to see where they now found themselves. They had finally come upon an area where several tunnels met, their entrances surrounding a great space covered in vines that they would all have to be careful of.

“Let’s drench it.”

At Mike’s order, everyone had begun covering every inch of the area with their flammable substances, including the cans of gasoline and pesticide that Steve and Lucas were spraying the walls and ceiling with. They worked in tandem and didn’t spare a square inch of the area or single drop of their substances.

They were going to burn it like the hellhole it was.

-------------------------------------------------

Jonathan thought he might pass out if he had to continue to watch his little brother writhe and scream in agony on the bed. Nancy stared in shared worry and heartbreak beside him, but Joyce was a different story. She stared at Will with a fury that she had never directed towards him. Because she knew this wasn’t him, so there was absolutely no reason to act like it. Right beside him was Doc, who was still holding a hand out towards him. She would flinch every time he would nash his teeth at her hand, but she never completely pulled away.

“It’s not working,” Jonathan cried. “It’s not working. Mom, are you listening to me?!”

“Just wait!” She hollered.

“How much longer?! Look… Look at him!”

“Jonathan, wait!”

“You’re killing him!”

“(Y/N), now!”

Instantly, Doc attached her hand with Will’s cheek, the both of them crying out. Nancy stared in horror as her sister’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, her eyelids fluttering in front of them. She called out to her, but Doc didn’t answer. Because she wasn’t with them anymore.

When Doc opened her eyes, she found herself in a clear, open space. A space that felt like home, but darker and colder. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at the presence she felt behind her, like someone breathing down her neck. She knew this was no person, though.

Spinning around, she was met with the shadow monster. It towered over her in all its faceless glory. She cocked her head at it, not in need of words to know that it was challenging her. Once again, she stepped forward with a new-found confidence fueled with the determination to save her friends and family. To save Will.

The Mind Flayer stretched out one of its limbs and touched it to the ground, forming into a tornado of sorts. Doc felt her heart rate rapidly speed up as it headed straight for her. She was terrified. Mike was right, she didn’t know how to defeat this thing. It could kill her right now and it would be her fault, because she took this thing on without a single plan.

“You don’t let yourself feel. How are you to control emotions you do not allow yourself to feel?”

Remembering the words of her sister, Doc closed her eyes, focusing her mind on all of the things that angered her. All the things that sent fire through her A fire that she had to lock away. A fire she never let spread in order for it to be extinguished. A fire she never let burn her. But now she was going to burn brighter than she ever had.

“Guards stormed the building and your mother was killed on sight.”

She inhaled deeply and clenched her fists.

“They killed Dr Hill right there.”

Black veins began peeking through the skin of her arms, spreading down to her wrists, to her hands. The feeling was like snakes sliding through her skin, but she welcomed it.

“Don’t worry, Private,” Brenner whispered. “We’ve found you now. You can finally come home. Where you belong.”

“No! Let go of me! No, I don’t wanna go back!”

The tips of her fingers became a smudged black, like charcoal staining her skin.

It was a darkness, a shadow that rushed around past her and to Will. It entered him through his mouth, through his ears, through his nostrils, through his eyes.

Her breathing became more labored as the veins spread up her neck and across her face, her eyes burning as they snapped open, an icy and venomous stare at the swirling storm that threatened to swallow her.

Will, at first, stood there in stunned silence, as if he was figuring out what was happening. Then, when he blinked and took one look at Doc, his eyes turned cold. Before she could do anything, he shoved her in the chest, the girl falling back.

Her eye twitched as she lifted both her hands up to the monster.

Doc slowly reached out to touch his shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak, but Will had harshly flinched and smacked her hand away just as her fingertips brushed his shoulder. All three of them froze, Mike and Doc staring at Will with startled looks. Will had only been glaring at Doc, offended.

She felt tears sting her eyes, adding to the burn she already endured.

“He looks at me like he doesn’t know or love me… like I’m a threat.”

“I feel like me being here is only gonna make things worse. He doesn’t want me here and I’m upsetting him.”

(Y/N) touched her knuckles together with her hands in a clawing position.

“You… are an abuser, a criminal! You ruined my life!”

With a grunt, she began pulling her hands apart.

“Papa is gone.” Jane tearfully spoke.

Ray shook his head. “No, he is alive.”

The black ashes of the shadow broke away from the storm, the monster screeching from above. (Y/N) groaned loudly as she pried her hands farther apart, her face scrunching, her eyes widening.

When her eyes snapped open, she saw that she was still laying beside Will, who was soundly sleeping still. Only now, his hand was no longer in hers.

It was gripping her throat.

A loud sob was released from deep within as she pulled the storm apart and inside out, parting like the red sea. Her anger and sadness worked together as her support.

On the outside, they watched as black veins that matched Doc’s spread up Will’s throat, the boy arching his back. She was clearly making some progress. Still, Will looked like he was in pain. Jonathan went to turn off the heaters with Joyce’s protests behind him, but Doc, still in her dazed state, mechanically climbed on the bed and straddled Will, placing her other hand on his other cheek.

Will shook uncontrollably until his wrist freed itself from its binding, flying to the other one. Joyce hurried to wrestle his arm away, but he had succeeded anyway, both his hands now wrapping tightly around Doc’s throat.

The girl gasped out for breath, her eyes remaining the way they were. Nancy gasped loudly.

“(Y/N)!!!”

Doc could hear her sister’s scream echo throughout the world she was in. She faltered a bit, praying that Nancy wasn’t in trouble. This allowed the Mind Flayer to get the jump on her, bucking up suddenly and pushing her back a bit. She cried out, but held her ground, her feet sliding where she planted them firmly. “Shit! Oh, shit!” She choked out through the constriction of her throat.

At the lab, everywhere was becoming much more familiar to Hopper. It was where he and Joyce had gone a year ago to venture into the Upside Down to find Will. Only this time, it was empty and silent, save for the distant sound of Demodogs roaring from the room down the hall. “Stay here.” He quietly ordered and walked further down the hall, El watching him go with labored breathing.

Slowly and quietly, Hopper stepped to the entrance of the room where the growling came from. He hid off to the side and flashed out his knife, angling it so he could get a view of the Demodogs without being seen. To his dismay, there were so many more gathered together than he thought. Their way to the gate was blocked by them.

Within the tunnels, Steve held up his lighter, crouched in the entryway of the hub with the kids behind him. “Alright, you guys ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Ready.”

“Light her up.”

He flicked the lighter open, sighing as he turned back to the drenched hub. “I am in such deep shit.” He panted and ignited the flame.

In Will’s mind, Doc was still trying to gain her footing once again, but it had retaliated too strongly for her to bounce back so easily. That, and she was trying to focus on not passing out from her airflow being cut off.

On the outside, Jonathan and Joyce were trying to pull Will off of Doc, who hadn’t even outwardly reacted to being choked to death. But Will was too strong and had a grip far too tight for them to break. Nancy knew how to end this, though. This bastard tried to kill her sister right before her very eyes and she would be damned if she sat there and watched it succeed. Marching over to the fireplace, she picked up the poker, bright orange with the heat it held, and pressed it into Will’s side. With a deadly yelp, he freed Doc.

Outside the room where the Demodogs grouped, Hopper readied himself to storm in.

“One… two… three.”

He rounded the corner, gun at the ready.

In the tunnels, Steve threw the flame, setting fire to the vines. They screeched and wriggled in pain.

Will being burned gave Doc the perfect opportunity to get the upper hand. The Mind Flayer had drawn back a bit and she acted immediately. With a deep gasp for breath, she pushed forward and planted her feet completely. Since she was knocked out of focus momentarily, she had to focus again on her emotions. Her anger. Her pain.

“You can’t remember what life was like before, but since you wouldn’t have me or Carrie with you, it would be hell.”

(Y/N) stepped closer and closer to the storm as she continued to rip it in half. The Mind Flayer screeched as she dusted its limb, moving up to the rest of its body. A long scream burned her lungs as she ran forward, forcing her arms wide when her hands couldn’t go any further.

“You don’t get in my head. You can mess with the heads of your enemies. You can mess with the heads of your friends all you want. But don’t you ever, ever get in mine!”

The monster tried to advance, but it was being torn apart. Doc showed no signs of stopping, tears cascading down her face as she clawed its body in half, the ashes blowing away in a wind she created.

In the lab, Hopper grew confused when the Demodogs shrieked and cowered away, as if in pain.

At the panic of the vines and spreading of the fire, Steve began urging the kids out of the tunnels. “Go, go, go!” He shouted, quickly leading them away from the fire. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god.” Dustin chanted as he tried to keep up with everyone.

At the lab, the Demodogs began to flee down into the hole leading to the gate like moths to a flame.

Doc wanted this to be over. She wanted all of it to be over. The fighting, the danger, the fear. She wanted to no longer be haunted by her past. No longer wanted to be locked away. She wanted to live her life in total bliss, like any child deserved.

“Your mother… she was in so much pain. She just wanted to live a normal life with her daughter… a-and I tried to supply her with that. I tried. But as always, he had to come in and destroy any source of what could’ve been a normal life for you.”

She didn’t want monsters, human or not, to dictate how much of her life she could live.

“I know that you would rather die-”

“No!”

She sobbed. “Let me live…”

“I know that you have wanted to die-”

“No! No, no, no!”

“Let me live.” She glared up at the monster with so much hatred. “Let me live! You piece of shit! Let! Me! Live! You life stealer!!! Let me fucking live!!! I wanna live!!! Do you hear me?! I! WANT! TO! LIVE!!!”

With a voice-shattering cry, Doc clenched her hands into fists and swiped them down through the air. The monster dusted into millions of ashes. The black ashes scattered all around her like snowflakes in the winter. A strangled groan tumbled out of her throat as she directed the shadow up and out of Will’s mind. Once it was silent again, she released short puffs of air through her mouth and she closed her eyes as she fell to her knees. Her head felt a lot more clear now.

On the outside, Will and Doc’s screams filled the room as the dark entity flooded out of every place in the boy’s face it had entered before. It swirled up to the ceiling as a way to collect itself, and when it was done, it bolted out of the cabin, crashing through the door. Nancy followed after it to see where it was heading to, but it only disappeared into the sky and vanished into thin air.

Her work done, Doc collapsed off the bed and crashed to the ground. Jonathan unplugged the heaters and Joyce hurried to the unconscious Will’s side, urging him to wake up. “Will, baby,” She cried. “Will… Will. Please, Will.”

“Come on, buddy.” Jonathan shook him.

“Please, can you hear me?”

“Come on. Come on.”

“Please… Will…”

Joyce gasped when Will’s eyelids fluttered open to reveal the lightness of his eyes. “Mom…?” He croaked out. Sobbing, Joyce pulled her son into a hug with Jonathan joining in.

Doc’s groan from the side of the bed caught Nancy’s attention. She watched as her sister slowly peeled herself off the floor, blindly making her way over to her. “Oh, (Y/N)!” Nancy sighed out in relief, allowing her to fall into her arms. Her heart warmed as she held her tight, swaying her a bit as her tears dripped down her face. “Oh, my god… Thank god…”

In the lab, El joined Hopper’s side. The way to the gate was clear now. They just needed Jonathan’s word. As if on cue, the teen’s voice crackled from Hopper’s radio.

“Chief, are you there? Chief, do you copy?”

Hopper reached his radio up to his mouth. “Yeah, I copy.”

“Close it.”

And as the two of them were lowered underground to the gate, El grabbed a hold of Hopper’s hand.

Once they were face-to-face with the red-orange of the gate, Hopper pressed the button for the elevator to stop. He and El shared a look before she let go of his hand and faced forward again.

With shuddering breaths, she raised her hand up to the barrier that allowed evil to bleed into Hawkins. Her power reached out for contact until it hit the gate, emitting a glow and blowing back some of the particles.

At the simple touch, a sharp pain stung Doc in the chest so hard that she twitched out of Nancy’s hold. She winced and fell to the floor at the sudden loss of feeling in her limbs. Panicked, Nancy dropped to the ground beside her sister.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), what happened?”

Doc whimpered as her limbs locked.

“(Y/N), talk to me! What’s going on?!” She cried as Jonathan rushed over to them.

-------------------------------------------------

“Dart.”

The team of five had been interrupted in their escape from the tunnels when Mike had been grabbed and held down by a vine. Steve had saved him in no time with his trusty bat, but they hadn’t gotten a moment’s peace, for Dart’s growling from behind had alerted them.

Dustin began forward, his friends hushedly calling out behind him. He held his hand up to silence them. The fact that Dart hadn’t jumped at them yet was a good enough sign. “Shh. Stop. Trust me, please.” He removed his goggles and mouth covering to reveal his face to Dart. “Hey. It’s me, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin. It’s Dustin, alright?”

Dart slowly made his way over to him as the boy knelt down with a gentle smile. He knew that once El closed the gate, Dart would be no more. And while Dustin wasn’t ecstatic for his new friend to die, he was a Demodog at the end of the day. He couldn’t continue to live and Dustin knew that, but he could at least still be his friend in their last encounter.

“You remember me?” He asked, Dart chittering in response. “Will you let us pass?”

Dart opened up his face and loudly snarled at him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” He softly spoke, smiling once again when Dart calmed down. “I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchey thing to do. You hungry? Yeah?”

He began to take off his backpack and reach into it. “I’ve got our favorite. See?” He fished out a 3 Musketeers bar. “Nougat.”

Dart slowly stalked forward as Dustin took off the wrapper, carefully setting it on the ground for him.

“Look at that. Yummy. Here, alright?” Dart bent his head down and feasted on the candy. While he was distracted, Dustin motioned for his friends to quickly pass the Demodog. “Eat up, buddy. Come on. Come on. There’s plenty. I’ve got more.”

Once his friends had safely made their way past Dart, Dustin left one last piece of nougat and stood, heart constricting as he heard his beloved friend happily munching on his food. He walked past Dart and turned to look at him one last time. “Goodbye, buddy.”

Farewells bidded, he slipped his safety gear back on and hurried out of the tunnels with his friends.

-------------------------------------------------

El’s nose had already begun to leak, but she was nowhere near done. She had barely patched up the gate when a large silhouette appeared on the other side of the gate. The Mind Flayer. It seemed to be staring at her, daring her to continue. So, she did.

“I want you to find something from your past. Something that angers you.”

The bad men throwing her into the dark room. Brenner watching as they did so.

Her power worked faster, the gate closing at a quicker pace. Hopper watched in amazement as the Mind Flayer hovered closer to the opening.

Steve and the kids had been fleeing to the exit out of the tunnels when the ground rumbled and shook, throwing them to the ground. The roaring of the Demodogs encouraged them to get to their feet quicker. Mike flashed his light in the direction they all had just come from, the roaring increasing in volume.

“They’re coming.”

Steve needed no other warning for him to bolt back to where they dropped from, urging the kids to follow. Once they reached the hole, he hoisted up Max, then Lucas, and then Mike out of the tunnels. Right as he went to help up Dustin, the rushing of several footsteps alerted him to take out his bat and defend the child beside him.

“Dustin! Come on!” Mike called from above, he and Lucas holding their hands out for their friend. But Dustin didn’t move. He wouldn’t leave Steve.

The Demodogs rushed around the corner, heading straight for them. Steve raised his bat, Dustin turned away fearfully.

But surprisingly, they weren’t being ripped to shreds.

When Dustin looked again, he saw that all the monsters were rushing past them, their desire to gnaw on their flesh no longer a priority. Meaning there was a threat nearby. Steve held onto Dustin tight as he wondered what the hell they were running for. But Mike knew.

“Eleven.”

-------------------------------------------------

She was making great progress now. The gate was repairing itself at a much quicker rate, both her nostrils and ears leaked with blood, and her pupils were dilated. From behind them, Demodogs began running up the walls, causing Hopper to whip around with his gun ready. The closing of the gate was frightening the monsters. They weren’t the only ones affected, though.

At Hopper’s cabin, Nancy was still trying to speak to Doc, who was breathing heavily on the ground. She was as stiff as a board and didn’t move a muscle. Nancy had no idea what was going on with her, but she knew her sister was in pain. Jonathan was at Nancy’s side, checking over Doc for any wounds, but the only ones he found were her hands and her leg that had been grazed by a bullet. They were taken care of, though. So, something else entirely was wrong.

Unbeknownst to the pain she was causing Doc, El continued her work on the gate. Dark circles had formed under her eyes and her skin was paling so much that her veins were becoming visible. She let out a choked gasp as she tried to focus, but she was becoming exhausted. Still, she centered herself on her rage.

She thought of when Kali had gotten into her head, when she made her see Brenner. When she made the vision say those things about her.

“You have a wound, Eleven.”

She thought of Mama.

“A terrible wound.”

She thought of the day she made contact. The day she had opened the gate.

“And it’s festering. And it will grow.”

From the other side, the shadow that Doc had just freed from Will broke through, heading straight for her.

“Spread.”

But she still held her hand up, taking it head-on.

“And eventually, it will kill you.”

With all of her strength, El reached out her other hand and pushed it back. She was so fired up, she screamed so loud, that she hadn’t even noticed at first that she was levitating. This was the most she had ever used her powers, the strongest she had even been.

Unfortunately for Doc, this was the weakest she had ever been.

She had never felt such pain before. This was worse than breaking a limb, worse than heartbreak, worse than loss. An earth-shattering scream ripped through her throat as she arched her back. Everyone watched in horror as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her skin decorated itself in more veins than she had ever sprouted. Every inch of her body was covered in the black lines and her face was sunken in. She looked like a hollow shell of a person, like someone was ripping her soul from her body.

Little did they know, that was exactly what she felt, and then some. She felt as if someone had reached deep into her stomach, crushing and tearing organs apart as they went, dug their talons deep into every powerful thing that made her, her, and pulled it straight out of her body without any caution. Without any remorse. When she started to seize on the ground, Nancy could do nothing but bury her face into Jonathan’s shoulder to save herself from the vicious sight.

Doc’s screams strengthened in volume and pitch as all of the lights within the cabin burned brighter and brighter all around them. No one could even guess what was happening. Even Will was confused.

In front of the blue Camaro, Steve and the kids turned to the blinding headlights of the car and shielded their eyes to avoid the burning.

And at the gate, Eleven was still pushing the Mind Flayer back, her screams never ceasing until it was back on the other side and the crack in the wall was completely sealed, leaving them in darkness. Her work done, she fell to the ground. As soon as the gate closed, the Demodogs went limp and fell from where they had been climbing the walls. With no other threat around them, Hopper knelt down and pulled El up into a hug. She weakly wrapped her arms around him the best she could, sniffling the blood clogged in her nose.“You did good, kid,” He sighed in relief, leaning his head against hers. “You did so good.”

As soon as the lights went back to normal within the cabin, Doc fell back to the ground with a crack, going completely silent. Nancy pulled away from Jonathan to see what was of her sister now. She was happier than ever to see that she was still alive, her eyes and skin back to normal, but she didn’t expect to see Doc staring up at the ceiling, lip quivering as tears fell from her eyes and across her temples to her ears.

“(Y/N)!” Nancy scooted closer to her sister’s side, brushing back her hair. “Oh my god… Ca- Can you hear me?”

When Doc felt Nancy taking hold of her hand, she couldn’t hold it back anymore. She squeezed her eyes shut and bursted into tears, shaking her head back and forth in agony. This only deepened Nancy’s confusion.

“(Y/N), talk to me! Are you- Do you feel pain anywhere?!”

“No…” She blubbered. “I feel empty! I feel so empty!”

Nancy blinked. “E-Empty…?”

“It’s gone… I can’t feel it anymore, Nancy! It’s gone, I can’t feel it!”

She had no idea what Doc meant by that. All she could do was pull her sobbing sister into a hug and be grateful that she was still here with her. Jonathan sat beside them, sharing a look of confusion with her. On the mattress, Joyce still held Will in her arms, staring at Doc in worry. Will could hardly keep his eyes open with how exhausted he was, but if he were being honest, he was just happy that Doc was here and safe. The Mind Flayer hadn’t taken her, and that was all he cared about right now.

No one could get a word out of her about what had happened. And when everyone regrouped at the Byers home, and when Mike happily ran up to her, she could only fall into his arms and cry into his shoulder. Mike, bewildered, looked up at Nancy for an answer, but she sadly couldn’t provide him with one.

-------------------------------------------------

“Since the release of the incendiary tape, the once quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana, has spent time in a place it never expected. The national spotlight.

“Under mounting pressure, several high-ranking members from the U.S. Department of Energy have admitted involvement in the death and cover-up of Hawkins resident, Barbara Holland, who died due to exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant, which had leaked from the grounds of the lab.

“We sent our own April Kline to Hawkins to speak to residents, residents who told us they thought they lived in a safe town. The kind of town where, they say, nothing ever happens.”

The television in the local bar, the Hideaway, continued to broadcast the news as Chief Jim Hopper opened the door to the entrance. One month later and the most drastic change of all was the weather, temperatures dropping enough that one could see themselves exhale into the freezing air. The lights hung up near the television were festive for the upcoming Christmas holiday, sure to put some joy into the damp mood that had settled over Hawkins within a few weeks.

Hopper spotted a booth and headed straight for it, taking off his coat before he sat across from Dr Sam Owens. The doctor warmly smiled at him as he chewed on half of his sandwich. “Chief-o.”

“How’s the leg?” Hopper smiled back.

“Better,” He motioned to his wounded, but healing leg. “Pretty sure my football career is over.”

They both shared a laugh before Owens picked up the half of the sandwich he was currently eating, pushing the rest over to Hopper. “Want some? No way I’m gonna finish it.”

Hopper pushed the plate back. “No. I’m, uh… on a diet.”

“Well, you’re a better man than me,” He shook his head before turning to the side, beginning to look through his things. “Hey, got a little something for you.”

The Chief watched with furrowed brows as Dr Owens slid an envelope across the table. He picked it up and took a peek at the paper inside, a feeling he couldn’t quite describe spiking in his heart.

Certificate of Birth

This Certifies that according to the records of the State of Indiana

Name JANE HOPPER

Was born in HAWKINS

Child of TERESA IVES

As if to reassure himself that this was real, he looked up at Owens, who only smiled at him. He frowned in confusion. “I thought-”

“Sometimes, I impress even myself,” He watched as Hopper carefully tucked the paper back into the envelope and put it away. “Still, I’d let things cool off for awhile, if I were you.”

“How long is awhile?”

Dr Owens thought it over as he picked up his sandwich again. “Want to be safe? I give it a year.”

“A year?” Hopper didn’t know if he could do another year of hiding Eleven. Another year of restricting where she could go and when she could. The last few months hadn’t been too successful for him, but they were better now. He was better now. They could work it out. Still, the thought of it all stressed him enough to indulge in that second half of Owens’s sandwich, breaking his diet. “What about one night out?”

“One night?”

“Yeah. How risky would that be?”

“What’s so important about one night?”

Hawkins Middle Snow Ball ‘84 was the most important, and most anxiety-inducing event the Party had been planning to go to. With everything they had been through together, they figured they could treat themselves to one care-free(?) night. They had saved the world from an interdimensional demon, after all.

“Jingle bell, jingle bell

Jingle bell rock

Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time”

In the Byers home, Joyce had been ‘teaching’ her son a few dance moves, dance moves that Will was sure he hadn’t seen anyone do before. As embarrassed as he was to be dancing in his living room with his mother, Joyce was just as amused.

“Yeah, you got it! See?”

“Mom!”

“Wow!”

“Jingle bell, jingle bell

Jingle bell rock

Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time”

Will turned to the side to look at Jonathan, who was recording the whole thing on Bob’s old video camera. “Do you always have to be filming everything?”

“No, no,” Jonathan chuckled. “Just the good stuff.”

“Are you sure people still dance like this?” Will timidly asked his mother, who nodded and continued to move across the floor with him.

“Yeah. It’s just what’s happening.”

Will turned to his brother again. “Is it what’s happening?”

Jonathan nodded when Joyce gave him a look. “Yeah, yeah, it’s what’s happening.”

The boy decided not to question the two of them anymore as Joyce spun out of his arms with a wide smile. “Come on! You’re doing great, honey. You know, (Y/N)’s really gonna appreciate this.”

“Mom!”

-------------------------------------------------

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Mike sighed for about the thousandth time as Karen held up her camera again and again to take more pictures of her children. How could she not want to capture endless memoirs of them? They looked absolutely adorable. Mike with his knitted sweater pulled over his buttoned shirt and tie, a brown suit jacket over it all was about the cutest thing she had seen on him yet.

And Doc, her sweet little girl. She wore a black blouse with puffy quarter-sleeves and white polka dots, accompanied with a flowy, dark orange suede skirt that stopped just past her knees. What pulled the whole outfit together was the matching suede bow that was tied on the side of her neck. She didn’t have much makeup on, just as much as Karen allowed with the help of Nancy, but she still looked stunning.

Karen couldn’t handle it. “Oh, just please, one more? Just one more.”

“Why?” Mike protested as he shifted his arm around his sister’s shoulders.

“You look so handsome…”

“Mom!”

“Mike.” She teased right back.

Doc snickered at the pout her brother gave the camera, her smile threatening to twitch the longer she stood in this position on the stairs. After what felt like a lifetime, Karen freed them to drop their arms and faces in order to get ready to leave. With a deep exhale, Doc hurried away from them, her boots clamping against the floor as she made her way to the kitchen.

She resisted the urge to wipe at her face as she leaned against the counter. She placed a hand over her stomach and gulped down the rest of her water she had left there. Ever since her fight with the Mind Flayer, Doc had been drinking as many fluids as she could get into her body. Not because she was parched, but just as a way to fill the hole left there. She tried anything, really, but no matter what, she always felt empty.

That part of her that she always had, that she may not have always understood, but she still had, was gone. There was no longer any pressure when she was around El, she couldn’t hear a car engine from miles away, couldn’t rip a hole in a fence with the flick of her wrist. That part of her was gone.

Someway, somehow, when the gate was closed, it stole her power from her. Doc supposed that she could make light of the situation, as she would no longer have that weight on her, another piece of baggage lifted. But she would always remind herself that her power was no baggage. It was a piece of who she was, a part of her whole being. Now, she felt incomplete. So very hollow.

It didn’t mean she couldn’t pretend, though.

Once she had joined her family at the front door, that smile was back. The one she continuously stretched across her face just to get through a day. Now, she had to get through the night, as well.

Arriving at the dance, after happily greeting Mr Clarke, Mike and Doc found that Lucas and Max were already there, chatting it up at a table. Doc had made her presence known to them for a brief moment before disappearing into the crowd of students on the dance floor. The Party hadn’t minded, of course, until Will arrived. He had greeted his friends with a small smile before his eyes scanned the area for his girlfriend.

“She’s dancing right now.” Lucas informed.

“What? Where?”

Max snorted and pointed. “How could you miss that?”

Will felt his heart warm and nearly burst out of his chest when he spotted Doc, wildly dancing with Brenda and Sheriece. She certainly had the rhythm down, but he couldn’t decipher any type of dance move she was doing. Or trying to do. Either way, he thought she looked lovely. And he suddenly wasn’t worried about his dancing as much.

“(Y/N). Hun.” Sheriece tried to catch her friend as she spun in circles, chuckling when the two of them bumped into each other. “Boyfriend. Three o’clock.”

At the mention of Will, Doc spun in the direction her friend told her. They immediately locked eyes past the sea of dancing students. She could make out a bashful smile and a tinge of red blooming on his cheeks, which sent heat to her own face. The look on her face had Brenda and Sheriece rolling their eyes in amusement.

“Go to him, (Y/N).”

Doc turned to her friends with wide eyes and raised brows. “A-Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Go see your man.” Sheriece joked. Doc calmed the raging of her pounding heart and gently took one of their hands into each of hers.

“Sheriece… Brenda… You two are the best friends a girl could ever have. I know I’ve been a shitty friend to you guys lately. And I’m so, so sorry. So, from here on out, I will be spending so much more time with you guys. Because I miss you and I don’t wanna lose you. Okay?”

Brenda pouted and gushed at her. “Oh, (Y/N)...”

“You’re such a sap.” Sheriece pulled her friends into a hug. “You won’t lose us. It’s the three of us forever.”

“Forever…”

Doc slithered past classmates to get to the other side of the gym, where Will had been patiently waiting for her. She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a warm and tight hug, the boy immediately reciprocating. “Hi.” She giggled.

“Hi.” He grinned as they pulled away from each other. “You… look beautiful.”

Absentmindedly, she fiddled with her bow. “Thank you… And you look very handsome. I love your tie.”

Will chuckled and looked down at his attire with an even darker blush. Doc went to say something else, but she noticed that he was now staring in shock over her shoulder. She turned to see Dustin approaching the Party, spinning to show off his look.

“Holy shit,” Mike gawked. “What happened to you?”

Dustin’s grin was wiped right off his face. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?”

“What?”

“Dude.”

“Your hair.”

Lucas reached up to touch Dustin’s styled hair. “Is there a bird nesting in there?”

Dustin moved his hand away. “What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong’? There’s no bird nesting in here, asshole, okay?” He lifted his hand to fix his curls. “I worked hard.”

Doc sniffed with a scrunched-up nose. “Is that… Farrah Fawcett spray?” She whispered, Dustin whirling on her with wide eyes.

“How do you know about the Farrah Fawcett spray?” He whispered back.

She raised a brow. “Uh… because Brenda uses it? Like, everyday?”

Just as he began to start an argument, Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time began to play. The Party watched as students began to either pair up for the slow song or make their way off the floor. Lucas sharply exhaled and turned to Max with a confident smile.

“Max…” He gained her attention. “Hey. Um, it’s nice, right? You want to, um… You want to, like… You know? Like, just you and me?”

Max narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to ask me to dance, Stalker?”

He frowned. “No. Of course not. Unless you want to.”

“So smooth.” She chuckled, grabbing hold of his hand. “Come on.”

The Party watched as the two went onto the dance floor, Will and Doc smiling, but Dustin longingly staring. Lucas looked like the luckiest boy on earth as he smiled dumbly at Max, slowly bringing his hands up to her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. That could’ve been him…

“Hey, Zombie Boy.” A girl that Doc had hardly ever seen before walked right up to Will without even batting an eye at her. “Do you wanna dance?”

Will’s palms became sweaty as he thought of what to say. He couldn’t say yes. He didn’t want to say yes. His girlfriend was right there. But that would be so rude to say no to this girl. Who even was this girl? Anyhow, whatever decision he made, he would have to make it soon because both girls were staring at him expectantly.

“Um… Sorry. I-I was gonna dance with (Y/N).” He grabbed hold of Doc’s hand and brushed past the girl. “Sorry…”

Doc tried to hide her triumphant smile as they came to an empty spot on the floor. Their shaky hands found their places on shoulders and sides before she began to move them to the music. There were so many unspoken topics between the couple that it made talking to each other so much harder. It was easy when they were with the others, but when they found themselves alone, they always fell into a sort of guilty silence. A silence that could only be broken by apologies. Much like the one they were in now.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

Will nervously looked away for a split second before locking eyes with her again. “I’m sorry for… everything I did a-and said when the Mind Flayer was… w-when he was-”

“It’s okay, Will,” She smiled, gently rubbing his shoulder. “I know you didn’t mean any of it.”

Another, much lighter silence passed before Will timidly spoke again. “Well… there was one thing that was true… I-I meant that I love you, (Y/N).”

Her heart leapt into her throat.

“I don’t think anything could change that.”

“I hope not,” She grinned with teary eyes. “Because I meant it, too.”

“Really?” His brows shot up, causing her to giggle.

“Yes, really… I love you, too, Will.”

He grinned widely at her before she dropped her smile into a smug look as they continued to sway. “I like your moves, by the way.”

Will snorted. “Thanks. I, uh… I practiced for you.”

“Awe! For me?”

“Yeah. I knew you’d appreciate it.”

Once again, Dustin found himself staring hopelessly at the girl that could’ve been his. He watched as Max and Doc bashfully talked with their dance partners with wide smiles as they moved to the music.

It wasn’t fair, he thought. He had tried everything. He was super nice, he included them, he acted like he didn’t care, he used the damn Farrah Fawcett spray. But it seemed like it took a certain someone to woo Doc Wheeler and Max Mayfield. A special someone. Someone he was not.

His hope had almost diminished completely, but he looked off to the side to find Stacy, a pretty and fairly popular girl, surrounded by her friends and talking amongst them. Fixing his jacket, Dustin exhaled and turned to his friend.

“Wish me luck, Mike. I’m going in.” He winked and clicked his tongue before walking away.

Millions of thoughts ran through his head as he marched right up to Stacy, who hadn’t even noticed he was approaching. Even when he stood in front of her, she couldn’t have been bothered to look his way. He cleared his throat.

“Stacy.”

“He just broke up with Jennifer. Plus he’s, like, not my type-”

“Stacy.”

Finally, she flicked her eyes over to him as the conversation fell. “Yeah?”

Dustin cleared his throat once again and held his hand out with a smirk. “Shall we?” He quirked his brows. Stacy looked between his hand and his face with furrowed brows.

“Um, no, thanks.” She chuckled, her friends laughing at her rude decline before they all left, leaving the Henderson boy alone and embarrassed. He watched them go, his heart breaking a little until he spotted two girls talking alone. He exhaled once again and started toward them, but they walked away as soon as they noticed him.

He froze in his tracks as his stomach and heart dropped simultaneously. He desperately began looking around for a lone potential partner, but everyone was either paired up or showing absolutely no interest in slow dancing.

So, there he was, standing still and alone on the dance floor. To save face, Dustin fled to the bleachers that were blocked off by blue streamers. There weren’t many kids back there, so he found it the perfect place to silently let the waterworks run their course.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a sun-kissed hand parting the streamers and he quickly wiped at his face to rid himself of the tears, deeply inhaling some of his dignity back into his lungs. When the person stepped through the curtain of streamers, his brows furrowed at the last person he expected to see.

Brenda Holloway. Her unnatural curls were teased up into a wild hairstyle that oddly suited her. Her hot pink dress was great against her skin and the smile she wore was even greater. She stopped in front of Dustin and held a hand out.

“Do you wanna dance?”

Dustin blinked rapidly to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “U-Uh…”

“Come on.” She pulled him up and led him onto the dance floor. He watched the room that now watched them as the beaming Brenda found an empty spot on the floor. They faced each other for a moment before she chuckled and guided his hands to her waist, resting her hands on her shoulders. Dustin’s smile grew as they awkwardly began moving to the music. “You’re Dustin, right?”

“Ri- Uh- Yeah. Dustin Henderson.” He stammered, inwardly cursing himself for it.

Brenda smiled even softer, if that were possible. “You’re always wearing a hat, huh?” She asked, receiving a nod in answer. “I thought so. You look so different without it, I almost didn’t recognize you. I would’ve asked you to dance a lot sooner.”

He was taken aback at this. He and Brenda had never spoken to each other outside of classes. And they only spoke if it were necessary. She had always offered a smile in passing, but never any words.

“You, uh… Really?”

“Yeah,” She smirked. “Me and Sheriece were fighting over who would ask you first.”

Dustin looked to the side to find sandy brown curls staring at him from the punch bowl that Nancy operated. Sheriece gave a tight-lipped smile and waved at him with her free hand. Her baby blue dress looked amazing on her. He smiled back as Brenda leaned close to his ear.

“She’s got the next dance.”

Outside the school, Joyce leaned against her car, left alone to her own thoughts. Her own sad, dark thoughts. Things had been a lot more quiet without Bob and she wasn’t sure if she liked the quiet. It was lonely and suffocating and she was afraid it would swallow her whole one day.

“Hey.”

She turned to see Hopper smiling at her.

“Hey.”

“Thought I might find you out here.”

“Will wanted me to give him some space, so… I’m giving him a few feet.”

They shared a chuckle before Hopper held up a box of cigarettes with a mischievous look in his eye. “What do you say? I’m pretty sure Mr Cooper retired in the ‘70s, so…” He stuck a cigarette between his teeth and leaned on the car beside her. “...we might be okay.”

Joyce watched as he lit his cig and playfully looked around for anyone as he handed it to her. She smiled and took it from him, taking a drag. She coughed and handed it back to him before she fell silent again. She had been doing that a lot lately.

“How are you holding up?”

“You know…”

“Yeah,” He took a drag. “That feeling never goes away. It is true what they say, you know. Everyday it does get a little easier.”

Joyce defeatedly accepted the cigarette again and inhaled. She knew that one day she would heal from this loss, but for right now, she didn’t want to think about that. She just wanted to feel this, to remember Bob as he was before he only became a memory. He was a Superhero. Her Superhero. And she just wanted to remember him for that. She would heal later on.

Hopper saw this and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his side as he stared up at the sky, wondering how such terrible fates could be sealed for such good people.

Mike had already sat through one slow song alone, but now he felt actually pathetic, sitting alone at the table, another slow song playing, waiting for the one person he wanted to dance with.

His heart skipped several beats when he looked up, finding Eleven entering the gymnasium and looking around for any familiar faces. When their eyes fell on each other, they were suddenly the only two people in the world. The girl in the woods, and the boy who found her. And yet, so much more than that.

They met each other in the middle with shy smiles and innocent looks. Mike couldn’t hold back the compliment he wanted to give. “You look beautiful.” He smiled, proud of the shy smile that widened on her face, the girl looking down at her attire nervously. “Do you wanna dance?”

Her eyes widened as she watched the crowd of pairs on the floor.

“I… don’t know how.”

“I don’t, either. Do you wanna figure it out?”

When she nodded, he gently held her hand and guided her onto the floor. They easily found their place and faced each other. Mike directed her hands onto his shoulders and then placed his hands on her waist. El watched him in curiosity, but when she realized their close proximity, it was replaced with a content smile.

The night was perfect. Dustin was now dancing with Sheriece, who was actually not as scary as he once believed. Max and Lucas stared at each other with so much adoration, Max’s eyes falling to his lips. Mike and Eleven were inching closer as they shuffled their feet. Doc felt her heart thumping harshly against her chest when she caught Will staring at her lips. She fought the urge to lick them, not wanting him to know she caught him.

Dustin, without warning, twirled Sheriece around, causing her to squeal in surprise, the two bursting into laughter. She shook her head at him in amusement as she steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders again.

Max, no longer able to wait any longer, pulled Lucas into a short kiss. His eyes widened as well as his smile. She smiled back before resting her head on his shoulder, Lucas smiling wildly into thin air.

Mike didn’t even feel himself moving forward, but he couldn’t catch himself even if he wanted to. He pressed a kiss to El’s lips. It didn’t last long, but it certainly was enough for them. Pulling away was too much for them, so they rested their foreheads against each other, nothing in this world able to keep them apart.

Will had just witnessed both kisses and tried to calm his racing heart as he turned back to (Y/N). It was now or never.

Doc felt her world tilt as he began to lean forward. A fluttering feeling in her tummy was the first thing she had felt in a month. For once, there was no emptiness, there was no loss. It was just Will and the certainty that this was real. He was back and he was better. He was her Will that she knew and loved, and she now knew that he truly loved her the same.

So, she welcomed the kiss. Like the others, it didn’t last long, but it was everything she hoped for and more. When he pulled away, his face was bright red and expectant of a reaction from her. Words felt like they would ruin the moment, so she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Will leaned his head against hers and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

Had someone asked the two of them in early November a year ago if they would believe this was where they would find themselves, they would believe it to only be a dream. To be in each other’s arms at a school dance, as their true selves. Who they’ve always been to each other. Rug Bug and Gator Bait…

No, they wouldn’t have believed it.

Now, though, it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

And in another world below this one, almost identical besides the lack of light and warmth, another factor they wouldn’t have believed.

The shadow monster, the Mind Flayer, banished, but not defeated, looming over Hawkins Middle. A promise for another meeting. A promise that nothing was truly over between this group and this monster.

They wouldn’t have wanted to believe that.

—————————————

Taglist: @yurtletheturtlehenderson @crybabyalexxx @sapphicsyn @shydestinymoonalexa @nailbatbitch @that-one-multifandom-chick @ariyabella @lonelywitchv2 @bilesxbilinskixlahey @frogserotonin @mymomsdisappointment @hewwofriends @billieissad @get0ut0fmyr00m @daylightsana @kaz3yo @satsuri3su @sassygentlemenjellyfish @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived @unordinary-simp @raquel12 @roman0ffsheart @jjjennyxii @hereiamhereigo @wizardsgrace @meowiemari

The third installment "Wax and Wane" is currently in progress!

#stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #st #st fic #st x reader #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #will byers #eleven #jane ives #max mayfield #will byers x reader #lost and found #break and mend

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minsyal · 4 years ago

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The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

I'm so excited for where this fic is going...

Feedback is always appreciated

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#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg #re8 #re8 heisenberg #Resident Evil Village #resident evil heisenberg #lord heisenberg #resident evil 8 #re8 imagines

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crumbledcastle28 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 10: A Weapon

Warnings: injury, yearning, softness, violence. Karga bleeds a little. The child saves the day… as always lol

Author’s Note: We are over halfway! This experience has been incredible so far, and thank you for all the support!

(I can’t remember where I got this gif from so if it is yours please lmk so I can credit you!!)

The rest of that morning went surprisingly smoothly.

The blurrgs were placed in the Razor Crest’s cargo hold and the three of you were now preparing to meet Karga.

From what you had gathered, he seemed very untrustworthy. To be fair, you would see yourself as pretty untrustworthy if you were looking from an outside perspective, so you were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Just protect and survive. That’s the only way you can prove yourself to Mando and Cara.

Cara, Kuiil, and IG-11 (who Mando surprisingly didn’t kill overnight) were all settled in the ship with the blurrgs.

You put out the fire from breakfast earlier and were getting the child settled in his pram, when you saw Mando walking towards you in your peripheral vision.

Is he holding… a weapon?

He walks to you and hands you what looks like a big stick with a pointy end. You hold it in your dominant hand, standing awkwardly with a curious look on your face.

“This is a longspear,” Mando says. “I tried to find something with a structure you would be familiar with to protect yourself, but I don’t really have anything like yours,” he says, referring to your lightsaber.

“This is the best I have,” he says, and he begins to walk away.

Where do you even begin? Mando handed you a weapon, hours after finding out you had been lying to him for weeks. Hours after finding out you aided in destroying the galaxy. Hours after learning you could have been feeding his information to the Empire this whole time.

For all he knew, you could plan to stab him in the back (literally) as soon as you had the right moment too.

You feel yourself choking up again.

I am so sick of crying over this man, you think to yourself. And he hasn’t even made me sad cry!!

“Mando,” you say, which causes him to stop in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, and you wish you could express your gratitude in any other way than stupid words. They are never enough.

“Thank you. I will use this with honor,” you say. “And I will not let you down.”

You try to steady your breathing, because you honestly feel lightheaded. You hope he responds with something. It doesn’t really matter though, he has already proven he trusts you. If you’re being honest with yourself, you just like hearing his voice.

“I know,” he says, and you hope you have as much confidence in yourself as he does.

He has given so much to you. Now, it was your turn.

~~*~~

The journey to Karga from Kuiil’s home planet wasn’t long, but it just felt tense.

You tried to give Cara as much space as possible. She deserves her boundaries. You had hurt her enough. She probably feels like she’s been betrayed by two friends today.

When you finally make it to Greef, he has a trio of bounty hunters at his side.

You rode on a blurrg with Mando, while Cara and Kuiil had their own. Your eyes were on the child floating in his pram the whole time, and you held up your longspear to make it known you were ready.

Greef proceeded to make awkward conversation, which you didn’t really pay attention to, but when he asked where the “little one” was, your senses went up in flames.

Not today buddy, you thought to yourself. Not today.

You turned around to look at Mando, silently asking him what to do.

“It’s ok,” he mumbled, and you nodded apprehensively.

You pressed a button on your wrist gauntlet (which was brilliantly engineered by Kuiil by the way) and the child was revealed to Greef in all his glory.

You honestly didn’t even hear what he was saying your ears were ringing so bad. He picked up the child, and your chest puffed while the grip on your longspear was causing the metal to almost bend.

If he even scratches the child, he’s dead.

Luckily, he doesn’t, and this unlikely crew is on their way again.

~~*~~

The team traveled for a while on Nevaro, but you didn’t mind the quiet. The silence was actually quite calming. Karga hadn’t tried any funny business yet, but you were still not convinced.

The sun set quickly, and so you all gathered around a campfire.

You helped Kuiil feed scraps of meat to the child, who was obviously pretty hungry.

“I guess the little bugger’s a carnivore,” Karga chuckled. “Never seen anything like it.”

He leaned in a bit closer to take a look at the child, which also meant he leaned closer to you. You felt his energy surrounding you, and you felt pretty uncomfortable.

“They were ready to pay a king’s ransom for that thing,” he said, but it almost sounded like a whisper in your ear. His closeness was starting to freak you out more, and you just wanted him away from you.

“Let’s go over the plan again,” Mando said, and you gave him a light smile in gratitude. He could see you were uncomfortable, and he got Karga distracted. You wondered if Karga’s closeness to you made Mando uncomfortable too?

Karga proceeded to sketch out the steps. The plan itself wasn’t bad at all. The team would go to the public house with the child as bait, while you stayed with Kuiil and the blurrgs to ensure their safety, and to make sure the Empire didn’t double cross you. You also didn’t want to get recognized, but Mando didn’t mention that to Karga. Mando would kill the client, and if there were any complications, Cara and Karga’s hunters would take care of it.

“Trust me,” Karga said, “nothing can go wrong.”

But of course, they could go wrong. Very very wrong.

As if on queue, a huge winged creature came flying out from the dark sky and Karga screamed in pain. He lurched backwards, and utter chaos ensued.

Blaster fire erupted all around you, and you immediately shut the child in his pram. You turned around with your longspear in hand, and you allowed your training to flow back through you.

You swung at any creature that came your way and cut through their skin if they came too close. Mando and Cara were doing some good damage too, but nothing seemed to make the creatures want to go away.

You heard a blurrg screech in pain and Kuiil yelled “drop her!”

You turned to your right and saw one of the creatures flying away with the blurrg. You took aim, and threw your spear directly into the creature’s neck.

It screeched and dropped the blurrg as it felt to the ground, dead. This was good, but you were left without a weapon. Lucky for you, Mando raised his arm and torched the creatures until they finally gave up.

Silence came over the camp, and it felt strange and eerie. The only thing you could hear were the sounds of pain Karga was making, and the tiny whimpers of the child.

You opened the pram and took the child in your arms, comforting him and stroking his head.

You looked up to see Cara and Mando rushing to Karga, and the wound in his arm looked bad.

“Hold still,” Cara said while sitting down and breaking open a medpac. “They got you good.”

“How bad?” Mando asked.

“Bad,” she said, “the poison is spreading fast. This isn’t working!” she yelled in frustration.

The child in your arms was squirming to be free, so you set him on the ground, and he immediately booked it to Karga.

You trailed behind him, and Cara gave you a glare.

“Get this thing out of here,” she said, and you went to reach for the child again.

“Wait,” Kuiil said, and you backed away. You had no idea when Kuiil was thinking, but he had some years on you, so you trusted his experience.

“He’s trying to eat me,” Karga moaned while looking at the child, whose hand was pressed directly on Karga’s wound.

Karga’s groans of pain were slowly becoming quieter, and he stared at the child in disbelief. The wound was slowly healing, until soon enough, it completely disappeared.

The child collapsed on the ground and you scooped him into your arms.

In all your training, all your pain, and all your hard work, you had never seen something like that. The shocked look on your face said it all.

Mando tilted his head up to you and said, “Have you ever seen something like this?”

“No…” you said, shaking your head in utter disbelief. “Never.”

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @farfromjustordinary @bookloverfilmoholic @440mxs-wife

#din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

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disturbedbydesign · 4 years ago

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The Widow and the Wolf - Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x dark!exWidow!reader

Summary: After Natasha Romanoff took down the Red Room, the former Widows scattered to the wind. Raised to be a killing machine and released into the world with nothing and no one, you decided to use your newfound autonomy to take down the bad guys of your choosing. But now Natasha is riddled with guilt for leaving you on your own. She wants to recruit you, rehabilitate you, make you part of a team again. But the rest of the squad has reservations, and no one is more against you than Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Graphic violence; Mentions of domestic violence, rape, pedophilia, human trafficking, child sex trafficking; eventual Dubcon (not Bucky); eventual smut; slow(ish) burn enemies-to-lovers. [More warnings will be added as necessary but these are the Big Bads.] 18+ only, no minors.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter Two

It’s almost midnight by the time Garcia is officially gator food, but you’re too wired for sleep. You head out, driving the hour and change to Miami, with a stop on the way to clean yourself up a bit in a gas station bathroom. You check in to the swanky South Beach hotel you’ve decided to treat yourself to, because you’ve earned it. The world is a better place without that man in it, the impressionable young girls of Miami are a bit safer tonight, and that’s enough for you. For the moment, it’s enough.

Your next target is a man you’ve been searching for for a long time, and he’s your own personal project, but tonight you aren’t going to think about him. Tonight you’re going to allow yourself a moment to breathe, to celebrate your victories—a party of one, as usual, but satisfying all the same. You don’t have that much time left before last call at the clubs so you get yourself together quickly and hit the spot closest to your hotel. Even at this time of night, there’s a line to get in, but one look at you and the bouncer is opening that velvet rope and beckoning you inside.

The place reeks of sweat and unchecked hormones as you make your way to the bar, the booming bass drowning out any and all thoughts you might have, which is exactly the way you want it tonight. You order a double vodka rocks and you wait to see what kind of man will approach you this evening: angel or devil. Of course, none of them are really angels, not in the club at this time of night, but some are far worse than others.

You have no problem with decent men. There’s nothing wrong with trying to get laid. It’s normal, it’s natural—you know that now. You’ve even learned to enjoy consensual sex with strangers. At first it was difficult for you—your body having belonged to others for your entire life. But it wasn’t long before you started to enjoy the power of choice, of having control over what your body did and who with.

A man approaches you—brown hair, blue eyes, muscular—and you hate that your first thought is of him but you can’t help it. The Winter Soldier had always been the stuff of nightmares—a ghost story to some, but the Widows knew better. He was terrifying, yes, but the few people who had seen the man’s face and lived to tell about it had always remarked on how handsome he was, even with that cold, dead-eyed stare. You’d seen pictures of him after he came out from under all that brainwashing, and they had proven the reports correct, but you’d never seen him in person until tonight. You couldn’t stand the sight of him in some ways, but in others…

You turn to the attractive stranger and smile, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he yells over the music. You raise your nearly full cocktail in his direction and he smiles awkwardly. “That’s the best line I got,” he says, and he introduces himself with a name you don’t commit to memory.

You give him a fake name and he reaches his hand out to shake. He’s got a disarming personality, but that doesn’t mean you trust him. You know better than anyone that there’s no better tactic than to appear non-threatening. Still, he’s incredibly attractive and you’re in the mood for a party of two tonight.

You let him talk for a while—about his job, about his family—and you pepper in a few lies here and there. He hasn’t laid a hand on you or invaded your personal space in any way that isn’t necessary among the crush of people at the bar. When the bartender signals last call, you decide that he’ll do. You’re rarely wrong about people, and even if you are, you could snap his neck like a twig if necessary.

You allow him to walk you out, expecting him to make a move, but he doesn’t. He just stands there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, rocking a bit awkwardly on his feet.

You smile and tilt your head. “Nightcap?” you ask, and he follows you like a puppy to your hotel room.

You don’t want another drink and neither does he, but he waits for your signal before he tries anything. You try not to make it all seem transactional, but it’s not like your heart is in it. You let him kiss you and touch you, albeit briefly, and you pretend to enjoy it even though that’s not what you want. What you want is to be on top of him, using his body for the pleasure of your own, and it’s not long before you’re doing exactly that. Your beautiful stranger certainly doesn’t mind, not even when you close your eyes and allow yourself to think about someone else inside you—what his face might look like all twisted up and blissed out, what sounds might spill from his pretty lips, what the cold metal might feel like against your hot sweaty skin.

You make yourself cum and then kick him out (kindly). You’re gone by sunrise. You’ve got places to be.

*****

Natasha sits cross-legged on her couch, a pint of ice cream in one hand and scrolling her tablet with the other. After Miami, you’ve been a ghost. None of her usual contacts have been able to give her anything useful. You’ve gone underground, and she knows she won’t find you if you really don’t want to be found. Whoever your next target is, it has to be somebody big if you’ve covered your tracks this well.

She doesn’t regret not taking you in, even though Bucky had complained the entire ride back about how leaving you there was a mistake. But, as she’d told him, you have to want to come in. Trying to force your hand is not only incredibly dangerous, it defeats the purpose. Natasha doesn’t want to retraumatize you; she wants to help you. There’s no point in trading a floating cage for a gilded one.

She doesn’t realize she’s finished the pint until the spoon hits the cardboard. When she goes to pull another one from the freezer, her phone rings.

“What’s up, Rogers?”

Steve’s voice holds a barely contained anger that Natasha knows well. “You need to come in.”

She should have known Bucky would rat her out, but it still pisses her off. “Steve, it’s getting late. Can we do this in the morning?”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “Are you gonna steal another jet in the middle of the night?”

“Technically, I didn’t steal-”

“Natasha, please,” he says, and she can picture the set of his jaw on the other end of the line.

She sighs. “Alright, fine. I’m leaving now.”

When she gets to the tower, most of the usual suspects are gathered around the conference table. Steve looks pissed. Tony looks amused. Sam and Wanda look concerned. And while, to anyone else Bucky would be wearing no expression at all, Natasha can tell that he’s feeling a bit guilty—as he should, he gave her his word. He mouths “I’m sorry” when she sits down at the table and she raises an eyebrow at him that he knows to translate as a middle finger.

Steve tries to speak but Natasha cuts him off. “Save me the lecture, Rogers. I’m not going to apologize.”

Steve’s voice is stern but not unkind. “This needs to be a group decision, Natasha, and as of right now, you’re the only person who thinks this is a good idea.”

“That’s not actually true,” she says. “Wanda? Do you want to tell Steve what you told me?”

Wanda looks a little shocked to be called out but she answers, if a bit hesitantly. “It sounds like she needs help, Steve. Like she’s lost. I… I know what that feels like—when everyone thinks you’re a monster.”

Wanda and Nat’s eyes both turn to Bucky, looking for any recognition whatsoever that he, too, knows exactly where they’re coming from, but he’s completely stolid. Underneath his blood is boiling and he feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin, but the surface remains placid.

Tony pops a blueberry into his mouth and swivels in his chair to face Natasha. “So, let me see if I’m understanding this correctly, Romanoff. You want to bring in one of your former compatriots who has spent the last… what?... year or so on a globetrotting murder spree? Am I getting the general idea here, or am I missing something? I have to be missing something, because if I’m not missing something, this is categorically batshit.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Stark. But essentially, yes. That’s exactly what I want to do.”

Tony laughs. “Wow. OK. Well, Rogers—you and I rarely agree on… well… anything, but I gotta say, I’m Team Cap with this one.”

Natasha crosses her arms and huffs her displeasure.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, looking around and addressing the room, “but don’t we usually catch mass murderers? Isn’t that kind of our thing?”

The longer the conversation goes on, the more uncomfortable Bucky gets. It wasn’t lost on him that Tony’s eyes lingered on him when he threw out the term “mass murderers,” and he’s learned that it’s better to just let Tony go off when he feels the need. Still, he needs to get out of the room. He needs to take a walk, get some air, push all thoughts of you and this whole mess out of his mind, because if he doesn’t, he thinks he might go crazy.

“Are we done here?” Bucky asks.

“No,” Steve replies. “Sam? Anything you want to say?”

Sam takes a minute to gather his thoughts. “Look, Nat, I understand where you’re coming from on this. I really do. And it would be different if she was willing to come in on her own. But it sounds to me like she isn’t interested. She wants to be doing exactly what she’s doing. You can’t rehabilitate that. You just can’t.”

Steve looks apologetically at Natasha. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but it’s a no. I’m not necessarily saying we go after her-”

“I am,” Tony interjects. “I’m saying that. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Steve glares at Tony and it shuts him up. “Leave it alone, Tony.”

“You’re seriously telling me you want to leave this girl on the streets knowing what we know? Come on, Rogers.”

Everyone starts to raise their voice at once—everyone except Bucky, who is already sneaking out and halfway to the door—when Natasha shouts, “Enough!”

She takes a deep breath and blows it out, speaking softer now. “I’ll find her and I’ll bring her in, whether she wants to come or not. But it stays in this room—no cops, no agents, just the team. When I get her here, I’ll figure out what to do with her.”

“Fine,” Steve says, and the rest of the team assents. “Buck, you go with her.”

Every cell in Bucky’s body is screaming not to do it, but he never could say no to Steve. He grunts his agreement, refusing to even look at Natasha before storming out of the room and out into the humid mid-August evening. He walks all the way from Midtown to Brooklyn, but he still can’t shake the malaise that’s settled over him ever since Natasha first came to him with her plan.

Bucky knows that he should understand—and, in a way, he does—but he just can’t bring himself to feel anything for you except disgust. Natasha sees something in you that he just doesn’t see. All Bucky wanted to do when he finally got free of it all was prove to everyone that he was a good man—that he was not the things that he’d done. It took a lot of work and a lot of time, but he’s finally in a place where he’s separated himself from the Winter Soldier. That isn’t who he is; it never was.

Steve always knew that, and Natasha hadn’t taken much convincing. The others, though—some of them still don’t fully trust him, and if he thinks about it for too long, it cuts deep. So when Bucky thinks of you—free now, but still violent and bloodthirsty and absolutely unrepentant—it makes him sick. After all the work Bucky has done, how can Natasha look at you and him and think that you’re the same?

Not everyone comes out of their traumas unscathed. Sometimes people can’t come back from the things that have happened to them. That’s you. That’s who you are. You’re not good, you never will be, and as sad as it may make him, Bucky truly believes that you are beyond redemption. You don’t need to be saved; you need to be stopped.

Bucky gets a text as he unlocks the door to his Brooklyn Heights apartment. He’s been waiting for it, hoping for it, and now he has it. Natasha doesn’t know where you are yet, but he does. One of his contacts in Bucharest has a line on you, and he’s not going to let you get away this time. Much as it pains him, he doesn’t trust Natasha to keep her word to the team and take you in against your will. No, Bucky is going to handle this himself. You may be a Widow, but you’re no match for the White Wolf.

CHAPTER THREE >>>

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dark!fic #dark!reader #the widow and the wolf

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beyondspaceandstars · 4 years ago

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While You Sleep

Chapter 1

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: angst, mention of violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you're given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can't relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier. A/N: I had this idea one day and initially it was just gonna be a one shot but then i said screw it. i’ve never really done a full chapter story/series so...? Here I go? I’ve written most in advanced so I know I actually have some sense of where this is going and tbh i think it’s gonna be interesting but i love soulmate!au anyways :)

masterlist | taglist | read on ao3

The nightmares always felt the same.

In your mind, clear glimpses revealed him - the brooding, long-haired man. He typically wore a mask and that same unforgiving yet disconnected look in his eyes. A metal arm would glimmer every now and then and you’d quickly find him wielding guns or twirling knives. The most uncomfortable acts were those of when he’d use just his hands.

You didn’t really know the people he was affecting. Some looked important, some seemed like casualties to whatever bigger fight was being played at, but they all came in quick glimpses. Part of you felt that he didn’t care enough to remember them. He had no connection, just a goal. There was always more of a focus on what he was doing and making sure it was done. You could tell that was what he was feeling, what he was seeing, and frankly, it was of the disturbing kind.

You had grown up hearing friends and family gush about all the wonderful, fascinating soulmate dreams -- because that was what they were supposed to be: dreams. Lovely, lullaby dreams showing one the life their soulmate was living. Giving the other a glimpse at their feelings, their adventures. Hopefully making you want your person.

Your parents loved reminiscing about how they saw each other playing with friends as kids or volunteering at shelters in college. Your friends had been equally fascinated, constantly gossiping about what books their soulmates had read or how their eyes would light up when they played with their dogs.

But you weren’t getting that. Instead of seeing your soulmate read their favorite book, you watched him take down what felt like an army of people. You saw him marching on command as if just a machine.

Part of you thought you were broken. Why were you only getting to see the bad things? Was there nothing good about your person? Had they lived for nothing other than these missions?

It was a weird combination, what you felt towards him. To say you weren’t at least intrigued would be a lie because, at the end of the day, this man was your soulmate. No matter how unnerving or confusing it was, you two were paired. While you didn’t know if he actually knew it, you felt it. You felt the pull in every knife flip. In every stab. In every mission. In every accomplishment.

Even time he was forced to go dormant -- because, yes, you could see the ice. You could see the shocks.

Your soulmate dreams were nightmares. And they ached and pulled at you.

***

You were already awake when sunlight began seeping into your room. This wasn’t a new occurrence -- the sun and you seemed to like to play a game to see who would rise first... You, it was always you lately.

The dreams were distorted memories last night. You didn’t see it all like it was interrupted, but you could tell it appeared to be a past memory. There was just something about the intensity visually this time that was weaker. It was less fresh than previous ones but still held feelings, strength. It was a confusing phenomenon, an old thought transmitting between the soulmate lines, but wasn’t unusual for you by any means.

Sometimes you received memories from your soulmate that dated back to the 70s, sometimes 60s. Things he had seen that weren't even from your decade which raised so many more alarms. It prevented you from getting any sort of age range. Sometimes people received memories their soulmates had learned of, like hearing a story of a wedding and depicting it, but they never lasted. Usually they were one-off casualties but these you had persisted. They had to be from him.

While confusing beyond all means, something you never could think about discussing with others, it gave you a little hope that maybe, just maybe, things had…stopped. Whatever rampage or mission your soulmate was on (had been put on?) was finished. Especially being a memory that came from just a few years ago. For once, maybe there weren't new nightmares for your soulmate to produce.

But you couldn’t get your hopes up. They could be right back at it tonight so you couldn’t allow yourself to ponder it no matter how much it all bugged you. You force yourself to get up and on with the day. Rising as you had watched the sun do so.

You pulled yourself out of bed choosing to ignore the sleep-deprived headache threatening to creep up. Shuffling around your bedroom, you collected your work uniform wherever you had really tossed it throughout the space.

Once dressed for the day, you moved on to making yourself presentable to actually get on with work. While you only just worked in a coffee shop -- not exactly the epitome of luxury -- tips were key and people liked their barista to actually look alive.

You finally got out of the door just moments later, homemade bagel sandwich in tow, all complemented by the fakest, brightest smile you could muster as you made your way down the city sidewalk.

You quite enjoyed the work commute, being able to weave in and out of the people, your mind instinctively wondering if he was here. Was he milling around? Hiding in the shadows? Planning something here or there? What to do next?

You figured most likely not, but you still looked even if the idea of him was enough to make you shake in your boots. Besides, you didn’t even totally know what you were looking for. The eyes and hair only revealed so much. The glimmer of his hand, though, that sure was unique. You could still see it in flashes throughout your mind.

So, you harmlessly let your eyes wander on the street. Checking over the faces, the posture, the appearances of them all but none of them could tug on that part of your heart. Granted, it was sort of ridiculous. Your soulmate had been proven to maybe not be the kindest person in the universe but something had to happen if the two of you were paired. And you were just the right amount of daring to see it through.

You finally made it to the coffee shop after your leisure browsing of the city people all bustling, brain set on getting one place or another. They were just exhausting to even look at.

The bell above the door jingled as you entered. The shop was mere minutes from opening and your coworker was already setting up, nearly ready to bring in the morning rush. She greeted you with a weak, tired smile. You responded with one of your own. Seamlessly, you two fell into it all, moving in silence. Prepping, brewing, cleaning.

Work was going much smoother than normal for the day. You seemed to fall into your tasks with ease as you served the morning crowd. You had your normals’ orders memorized and the new customers wooed at your speediness. Tips were coming in nicely as well, you noted. You and your coworker worked together, as if in a tango behind the counter.

The day seemed that it would continue on just as smoothly as the morning had. Things started to taper off nicely around the afternoon. The shop was mostly filled with college students in between their lectures. They nursed their coffees as they typed away so determined with their homework.

You and your coworker took the brief moment to lull around. She was aimlessly sweeping by the sugars while you cleaned the same spot over and over again on the counter as you watched the television in the corner.

The owner had put in the TV a while ago citing it drummed up service but you never actually found proof of that. Instead, it sat high up on the wall, above the windows, muted at all hours. He at least allowed the closed captioning to be on which was what you were reading as you pretended to clean.

Some midday news program was on. A graphic flashed signaling that they were going into one of their “investigative reports.” You stopped your movements with the rag as you watched the news graphic transition to a portrait picture of a man from the waist up. He...

Something made your stomach drop. Your heart twisted in familiarity while your brain sounded the alarm. Those eyes. That arm. You could feel all of it practically radiating from the television. Letting go of the towel, you let out a gasp at the true shock when it suddenly clicked in your head.

Everything slowed down around you. Customers began staring, concerned. Your coworker was calling your name, asking what was wrong. But you couldn’t do anything. Your eyes were glued to the television. Something crushed in you as it began adding up.

Eyes. Arm. Feelings. Emotions. Eyes. Arm. Feelings. Missions. Scene after scene, you went over everything that had been stored -- forced -- unconventionally in your head.

You read the name on the closed captioning followed by his title. Who he was, what he was.

It fell into place. All of it. It was him, yes. The dreams -- no, no. The nightmares. Your word repeated it over and over again. Him. All him. James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier.

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 4 years ago

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an icarus and his sun: chapter 1

A/N: i am Very Very excited for this enemies to lovers au, and also just a quick message that this is about their characters! some characters might seem more villainous than they actually are (even on the smp) and scott and jimmy will absolutely end up being in a romantic relationship (even if it might take a while for them to get there >:)). also, i planned this fic before xornoth was introduced and before sausage started the assassin's guild thing, so if you were hoping for either of those things in this fic, i'm sorry to say that they will not be featured here! (xornoth may be hinted at though, no promises!) pls talk to me in the reblogs i am lonely /hj

Warnings: arguing, flirting, teasing/banter, threats of violence

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Jimmy liked Katherine, he really did! She was one of his first allies, and even though she could come off as a little intense for the ruler of a flower forest, Jimmy really valued her friendship. However, her insistence on staying neutral… it bothered Jimmy. Or really, what bothered Jimmy was the fact that she insisted on having “House Blossom Alliance” meetings at her castle. And specifically, it was who was at these meetings that bothered Jimmy. Sure, there was Joel, Lizzie, and Pixl, three of Jimmy’s own allies, but the rest of the group wasn’t exactly on the best terms with him. Gem and Pearl were alright, he supposed, but Fwhip and Sausage were absolutely terrible. And then there was Scott. There wasn’t anything outwardly bad about the winged elf ruler, but he just got on Jimmy’s nerves. He was just irritating, with his stupid “better-than-you” attitude, stupid smug grin, stupid perfect hair- he was just… stupid. Well, not really. Scott was actually really clever. But he always flaunted when he was right about something, which frankly was often. But he didn’t have to be so smug every time Jimmy was wrong about something.

“Jimmy, what do you know about defensive mob strategy? You can’t even keep people out of your empire,” Scott scoffed, as Jimmy was attempting to offer some advice on how to keep a base safe from monsters. Jimmy glared at the winged elf sitting across from him.

“Because I like to try and keep my empire welcoming, instead of being all high and mighty in the mountains,” Jimmy shot back. Scott rolled his eyes.

“More welcome to attack, Jimmy. How many times have you and Sausage squabbled over something inconsequential?” Scott asked dryly, getting an offended “hey!” from Sausage that he ignored, focusing only on Jimmy.

“Well… okay so maybe I’m not that great at defending against people, but mobs I can handle! They’re predictable, people aren’t,” Jimmy huffed. Scott smirked at Jimmy, and there it was- that smug expression when Jimmy was proven wrong about something.

“Maybe some people aren’t… but you sure are. I knew you’d get all riled up if I started pressing,” Scott taunted. Jimmy shot up from his chair, hand slamming down on the table as he glared at Scott and ignored the concerned voices of his allies.

“I haven’t even begun to be ‘riled up,’ Scott,” Jimmy fumed, hand lightly resting on the hilt of his sword. Scott calmly rose from his seat, still smirking and looking like he was enjoying this far too much.

“What, you gonna fight me, fish boy?” Scott crooned, hand resting on the hilt of his own weapon.

“Maybe I will,” Jimmy growled, and Scott’s smirk grew into a grin.

“Oh, you are getting more riled up… can’t say I’m not enjoying the view,” Scott said in a near purr. Jimmy’s face grew warm as he gritted his teeth and tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword. Scott didn’t look nervous at all, only mildly intrigued, like Jimmy was a puzzle he was seconds away from solving.

“That’s enough!” Katherine shouted, jumping up from her seat at the head of the table and looking at the two of them with a disapproving glare. Scott and Jimmy instantly looked a little embarrassed, both finally remembering that they were in a room full of other rulers, and that it was supposed to be a peaceful meeting as they exchanged various tactics and information on trading.

“C’mon man, it’s not worth it,” Pixl murmured, gently tugging on Jimmy’s arm. Jimmy glared at Scott one last time before he sat back down. Scott looked entirely too pleased as he sat back down gracefully- how did someone even do that, sit down so fluidly like it was a part of a dance?!- and smiled far too innocently at Katherine. She was not having it, frowning with disapproval at both Scott and Jimmy until Scott sheepishly looked down at the table. Katherine sighed, seeming semi-satisfied as she sat back down.

“I think I’m gonna have to implement a rule about weapons at the next meeting… now don’t you two have something to say to each other?” Katherine said expectantly. Scott and Jimmy both looked at Katherine with confused expressions.

“Haven’t they said enough to each other?” Fwhip asked, sounding bored as he leaned back in his chair. Katherine rolled her eyes at Fwhip, and looked back at Scott and Jimmy.

“What I meant is that these two owe each other an apology,” Katherine said pointedly.

“What have I got to apologize for?! Scott started it!” Jimmy protested.

“It’s not my fault Jimmy’s easy to get all hot and bothered,” Scott said with an air of indifference, but the smirk directed at Jimmy told a different story. Jimmy’s face burned again.

“You stop that,” Jimmy scowled.

“Make me,” Scott replied smoothly.

“I’m confused, are they flirting or fighting now?” Sausage whispered far too loudly to Pearl. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head at Sausage.

“We’re not flirting!” Jimmy protested.

“Yeah, I can do way better than Jimmy,” Scott scoffed.

“Wha- hey! What’s that supposed to mean? I am a catch, thank you very much,” Jimmy huffed, crossing his arms.

“Oh, so you want to be flirting now?” Scott crooned with a smirk.

“What?! No! You’re infuriating,” Jimmy shouted.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you,” Scott shot back smoothly. Jimmy opened his mouth to reply, but was halted by a frustrated groan from Katherine.

“You know what? Fine! I declare this meeting adjourned. Everyone out! See you next week,” Katherine exclaimed with a sigh.

“Finally,” Fwhip muttered, getting up from the table first and striding out of the castle. Gem shook her head at his retreating figure, and turned to Katherine with an apologetic smile.

“What he means is thank you for inviting us to the meeting. I look forward to next week- and I’m sure Fwhip does too!” she said, gently patting Katherine’s hand before getting up and following after Fwhip. Pearl and Sausage were the next two to leave, thanking Katherine for inviting them as well. Then finally Scott left, simply bowing his head in respect to Katherine, but smirking at Jimmy before he took off.

“I hate that guy,” Jimmy muttered as he watched Scott fly away.

“I think you’ve made that clear, Jimmy. You’ve gotta stop picking fights you can’t win,” Katherine admonished with a sigh.

“I could have taken him!” Jimmy protested.

“And even if you couldn’t have, I would have avenged you,” Joel added. Lizzie and Pixl nodded in agreement, while Katherine buried her face in her hands.

“Peaceful! These meetings are supposed to be peaceful! I am definitely going to have people leave their weapons at the door at the next meeting,” she sighed, bringing her face up from her hands to lean back in her chair. Jimmy frowned, feeling a bit bad.

“I- sorry, Katherine. I shouldn’t have let Scott get under my skin so easily. I promise next meeting I won’t make a big fuss out of nothing,” Jimmy said solemnly, looking to Katherine with an apologetic smile. She smiled back, but it was a little strained and exasperated.

“It’s alright, Jimmy. Honestly Scott is just as much to blame as you are here. I just wished you two would have apologized to each other- you apologized to me just fine!” Katherine pointed out, her smile turning more bright and encouraging. Jimmy frowned, nose wrinkling slightly.

“Yeah, because I like you,” Jimmy huffed. Katherine giggled, leaning forward in her chair to clasp her hand over Jimmy’s and give it a light squeeze.

“That’s very sweet, but sometimes you’ve gotta apologize to people you don’t like, Jimmy,” Katherine said pointedly.

“From the way they were talking at the meeting, ‘like’ might be too weak of a word,” Pixl commented dryly. Joel poorly hid a laugh behind a cough, while Lizzie elbowed him while trying to hide her own amused smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Jimmy asked indignantly. Pixl looked at him blankly, raising an eyebrow.

“You told him that you were a catch, dude. How else are we supposed to interpret that?” Pixl replied with a laugh. Jimmy’s face flushed for what felt like the twentieth time that day.

“I wasn’t thinking straight!” Jimmy protested.

“Clearly,” Lizzie teased with a grin, no longer trying to hide it. The table erupted into laughter, and Jimmy couldn’t help but laugh too, even if it was at his own expense, and even if his friends were wrong. He was not interested in Scott in that way in the slightest, thank you very much. Their argumentative banter just got a little… carried away, that’s all. And he wasn’t saying he was a catch so that Scott would think so… he just had confidence in himself! And Scott was trying to wear down that confidence, Jimmy was just proving him wrong! At least, that’s what Jimmy told himself.

“So this is how the betrayal begins- first you fabricate an attraction to someone I despise-” Jimmy cut off his dramatic monologue with his own laughter, only causing the group to laugh louder.

“We’ll set you up with Sausage next,” Pixl said with a laugh.

“Now that is the ultimate betrayal,” Jimmy said with a shudder, grinning at Pixl all the while.

“Stop it, stop it- no one is betraying anyone! I’ll keel over from laughter with these backstabbing plans at this rate,” Katherine said, wiping at her eyes as the last of her laughs subsided.

“Alright, alright, if you insist. I should get going anyway, I’ve got a long trip back to Pixandria,” Pixl said, standing from the table.

“Safe travels! See you next week!” Katherine said with a wave. Jimmy and the others said their goodbyes, and with a nod and a smile Pixl equipped his elytra and walked out of the castle to fly off.

“Guess we should leave too, I’m sure you’ve got things to be working on,” Joel said, standing up from the table. Lizzie and Jimmy followed his lead. The three of them would often journey back to their empires together, seeing as they were all in fairly close range to each other. Katherine rose from the table with a sigh.

“Yeah, I’ve got some things to sort out. I’ll see you three next week- and I’m serious about the ‘leaving the weapons at the door’ rule,” she said, looking at each of them pointedly.

“Oh I’ll make sure these two follow through with that!” Lizzie said brightly.

“I was talking about you too, Lizzie,” Katherine said flatly. Lizzie placed a hand over her heart in mock offense.

“Me?! Oh please, next to these two I’m downright peaceful! Now we really must be going, nice seeing you!” Lizzie said far too innocently, grabbing both Joel and Jimmy by their arms and all but dragging them out of the castle.

“Oh uh, bye then! I guess,” Jimmy said with a lopsided grin and a wave from his free hand. Katherine shook her head fondly, waving goodbye back. The three of them made their way outside with only some minor grumbling from Joel about how he could walk, Lizzie. She only patted his cheek with a smile before equipping her elytra, Joel and Jimmy doing the same. And as the three allies took off into the skies and off to their own empires, Jimmy’s thoughts couldn’t help but wander back to Scott. Maybe he should try and patch things up, like Katherine suggested? He was a very good ally of Katherine’s as well- they were even planning a plushie business together! And he didn’t want Katherine to be stuck between another conflict again, like she had for all of his issues with Sausage. But how exactly Jimmy was going to fix things with Scott, he wasn’t sure. The winged elf was stubborn, and frankly so was Jimmy. It was unlikely either of them were going to give in or come to any sort of compromise. At the very least, Jimmy just hoped he could keep their arguments to just that- arguments. He couldn’t afford another war.

MCYT Fic Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed! And if you just want to specifically be tagged in this fic, I am open to making a specific taglist for it!): @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #katherine elizabeth #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #pixlriffs #pearlescentmoon #mythicalsausage #geminitay #fwhip #flower husbands #seablings #empires smp fic #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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