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Haven't I given enough? - Loki x Reader

Summary: Losing Loki to the hands of the Mad Titan pushed you towards the Dark Arts. A tale of grief and loss but above all, a story about unmeasurable love and sacrifice. What will a broken heart do when granted some hope? How will you react to the possibility of finding him alive?

You always knew you would go first. It was natural, it was the order of things. An immortal god would outlive a feeble mortal. This is how it was supposed to be. How it should have been. Never in your darkest nights did you imagine being left without him. This feeling, this nauseating realization tore you apart. You couldn’t stand. You couldn’t sleep or eat or do anything really for months after it happened.

You could still see that moment so clearly, during the day when it would suddenly hit you while you would run an errand and you would have to hold on to the closest stool and remember how to breathe. But during the nights it was so much worse. It was like every dream would transport you back into that minute of terror. It felt like it lasted for a lifetime then but it was actually just a mere minute in which the Mad Titan got a hold of your lover’s throat, squeezing the life out of him right before your helpless form. The darkness of the night felt like a curse to you. The burden of your thoughts, the taste of the blame you took upon yourself, the lingering smell of his blood, they were all ghosts floating above your head, eating you alive. Before Loki, you were surviving.

You never knew what living truly meant until he fell into your life. Like a drop in the ocean, he fitted perfectly. Loki rescued you from yourself and you broke through the most impenetrable of his walls to bring him back to light. And now you were crawling through life, while every moment seemed more gruelling than the one before. No lighthouse could guide you back home. Your home was long gone, it disappeared on that cursed spaceship on that damned night.

Thor used to call you sick when you would regularly throw up or suffer from migraines after hours of crying out your very soul. He might have been right, if being sick meant that you get shredded apart by your grief, only to be torn from the inside out harder each time you think that it might have lessened its grip on you. Then you were sick.

You felt like you lost all sense of reality after he was gone. He was perfect, your Loki like you have dreamed him into existence. You were only loved in your thoughts, in the scenarios you were daydreaming about, in the books and movies that you inserted yourself into. And then there was Loki. And there was love. And after him, you were left in utter despair.

Loki was patient above everything else. And in a way, you knew this was your greatest fear when it came to love, to be rushed, to be pressured because you were too late and because you were at fault for that, they said. But for him it did not matter, he was patient. He loved you from afar at first and then he loved you gently and in such a fragile way as if he was afraid you would break. As if he was fearful that he did not deserve you because of the nonsense the world was making him believe to be true. But each time he would withdraw his hand away from you after someone’s disgusted looks, you would pull him in even tighter than before. You would kiss him straight on the mouth, caress his cheek, and whisper words of love and adoration to his cruel mind.

It was frustrating really, how much you loved him. No words could do your feelings justice and you often felt like you were failing him by not being able to express how deeply dear he was to you. He was a stranger to these affections. A reassuring smile, a gentle touch, he imagined that the universe was mocking him with such goodness. He has been torn to pieces time and time again throughout his life. And whenever he managed to start building himself back up, that cruel fate of his found a way to kick him back to the ground again. So he was terrified when you showed up in his life. You were too good to be true, Loki thought. In the beginning, he would drag his eyes away from each of your smiles, berating himself for looking and for believing that they were directed at him.

‘Stupid, worthless man, you truly believe you deserve this kindness?’

The barbaric voices of doubt were hissing at him, the words reverberating from every corner of his mind. One should understand though, he wanted it. He craved all of the love that you had to offer. Even then. Even after all the inhumanity that he suffered, the deepest pits of him yearned for a love so pure. When he was younger, Loki used to do a lot of people-watching. He saw how every person he ever knew was granted the luxury of love in one way or another. And he would scoff and criticise and berate them for falling for such a stupid trick. And then, in the loneliest hours of the night, he would send silent prayers to whatever deity there was that might have been listening, asking for the smallest fraction of what everyone else got. And when the day was particularly cruel, he would taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips and hug himself to sleep, chanting that one day it will be his turn. Aeons passed and his day never came. He started resenting love. The word disgusted him or so he wished and he swore that he would stay away from those intrusive thoughts that his heart would burden him with.

Walls came up and the yearning for love was gone from the surface at least.

Mortal and small as you were, you burst through his shields like a boisterous storm. Loki found himself yearning for your presence, lingering on a look or a small moment of approval from you like it was the very air filling his lungs. He hated it. He tried to chain his heart to the darkness with snide remarks or ruthless sarcasm but your firey nature only bit back at him and it enchanted his mind and soul even more than he would care to admit. But you were also so good. So very good and kind and loving that the shadows lurking and nagging in the corners of his mind would retract from how bright you shone sometimes and they would let him be. You would bring him moments of peace he has never deemed himself worthy of.

Peace was a concept you completely forgot about, it was many moons ago that you had something similar to it and no matter how wrong it may sound, you didn’t crave it anymore. You wanted revenge. You wanted Thanos to pay and you wanted to see him suffer. For what he did to Loki. For what he did to Thor. For what he did to you. So you started planning, therefore you hid.

You found a haven in your magic as it reminded you of him. You didn't plan to turn towards the Dark Arts, nor did you plan to spiral out of control at the rate you did. But you sought revenge, it was imprinting itself in your heartstrings and your blood. It controlled you. You became sick of rules or limitations, of notions as loose as right or wrong, villain or innocent.

You obeyed these rules and held your morals in high regard. You did everything right. And yet, everything in your life is wrong. You couldn't help but wonder, if you would have had these powers when Thanos came for the Tesseract, would Loki still be alive? But Dark Magic always comes with a price. There are haunting voices in your head that taunt you, that chant gruesome thoughts for you to follow. And each time you give in to another spell, a black scaly layer of skin appears on our fingers. But you stopped minding it. You embraced the burning sensation of your newfound power and you promised yourself that you will find the Mad Titan and make him pay.

The Avengers have been tracking him for years but to no avail. He seemed to have crawled into the deepest hole in the Universe. It looked like you would never avenge your beloved. Every part of you that you sacrificed in this mad pursuit of yours seemed to have gone in vain. Until one day.

The door anything but flew from its hinges when Nat stormed into your quarters, informing you of a Stark ship returning with Bruce inside. He had been missing for a few months, crashing somewhere unknown and unreachable in his Hulk form. You figured he only recently managed to take control as Bruce, finding a way back home. Nat was livid, she couldn’t believe that they found him and she barely spoke three words to you, alerting you of the news before she took off towards the roof.

You gathered your scattered pages of spells in a small pile and followed her where the ship was landing just as you set foot into the chilly air of November. Your hand was keeping your hair in place, as the wind from the propeller was hurtling chaotically around you. Thor, Steve and Tony appeared by your side in seconds and you took a step back towards them, letting Nat approach the metal doors that were separating her from her beloved. A spang of jealousy tugged at the darkest part of you, wishing that you could ever get this chance of ever reuniting with your missing soulmate. Only, unlike Bruce, Loki was not missing. He was gone. You shoved your selfish thoughts aside and watched your two friends embrace and whisper to one another until Bruce’s eyes settled on you.

Like a match struck into his mind, he detached from Nat and wildly grasped your and Thor’s hand. If it were not for his iron grip, you would have completely dissolved into the hard cement. You had to shake your head lividly when you heard him and yet, you didn’t believe it. Bruce’s next affirmation sent you spiralling out of control and the logical part of you told you he might have gone insane.

"We have to go get Loki, fast. They have him. He is alive.”

No.

It couldn’t be. This was a trick. It was one of those venomous voices in your head that were playing with you again. You wriggled your hand out of Brue's grasp and you backed away, still shaking your head, like doing so could bring you back to the real world where no one was playing tricks on you. You used to be tormented by deceivingly beautiful dreams like this, where someone would bring Loki back to you or you would find him yourself, safe and sound. Then, no matter how the story went, just as you thought you reached him, he would be violently snatched away from your grasp and made to suffer unmentionable things in front of your helpless eyes.

Thor steadied you, your anchor and companion through all of this hurt, with a firm but trembling hand on your back, and that snapped you out of your impending, self-induced doom. You locked eyes with him and you saw it. Of course, the ever-optimistic God of Thunder would believe this. You wanted to, so badly. But each time your eyes would travel to Bruce, you expected a maniac grin from Thanos, laughing mockingly at you. It never came.

"Do not talk nonsense, Banner. My brother was subjected to the barbarity of the Titan. He is gone," Thor's voice grew raspier, his gaze accusatory to the words Bruce dumped on the two of you.

"Listen to me! He is on Sakaar, they found him on the remainings of the ship, heart barely beating."

Loki. Your Loki, you beloved, your salvation. Your chest was thundering, your blood was in your mouth. You clenched your hand onto Thor's forearm, allowing your entire quintessence a few seconds of solace. This was your dream of dreams, a wish you chanted to the Gods and deities for months until you gave up on faith. For a sparing moment, the whispers in your mind silenced themselves, the magic cursing through your veins felt warm and light.

You were snatched out of your reverie only seconds after. Worry overtook your blood and you splurged thousands of questions Bruce's way.

"Is he well? Why didn't he come with you? Why did you leave him there? Are you sure this is true?"

At the same time, Thor was voicing questions of his own.

"Who found him? Is he safe? How can we reach him?"

Bruce's gaze shifted to pure seriousness.

"I could not get him out of there. I need you two to listen to me and listen without letting your feelings get in the way," you felt as though that last remark was directed more at you than at Thor, who was holding his own as well as he could. Meanwhile, you were an indescribable mess.

A deep breath helped you gain some composure and you nodded at Bruce, urging him to go on.

"Sakaar is fraught with danger and deceit. Depravity lurks in every corner of the planet and you cannot get in or out without triggering numerous alarms. The ship that Thanos terrorized fell on Sakaar and guards gathered to inspect it in seconds. And they found Loki. Did you ever wonder why the ship was getting pulled into the opposite direction you two tried to stir it to?"

Bruce paused for a moment and you pondered upon that fact. Something strange happened to your ship that night after the Titan left. It started a free fall into what seemed like a dark abyss, like a force was pulling it violently and in the grief and desperation that was choking the two of you, Thor grabbed you and deserted it, barely making it out alive. You struggled against his grip then, wanting to join Loki, wanting to follow him into the darkest depths of the Universe, crying and screaming and begging Thor not to tear you away from his body.

"The people of Sakaar are magic syphons. When Thanos came, Loki's magic was at its peak, trying to protect Y/N. He threw a shield around you, a shield that took almost all of his will and power," you found a tear slip, as Bruce's gaze softened to meet yours again. You never knew that. That even in his final moments, he fought to guard you.

"You were passing their territory then and they sensed this immense leak of power. They tried to take it. The ship landed on Sakaar and they took Loki in. Only they realized that they were wrong. The power they sensed was stuck to you, it was your magic they were hunting, Y/N. I often heard them speak of it while I was in my cell, the guards went on and on about the magic of deceit, the one only you possess. But they sensed Loki's magic as well and saw two purposes in him. They made sure that he was back on his feet enough before they started to exploit him. They are syphoning his magic for themselves but they also keep him hoping that you will go for him, so they can imprison you and steal your powers for selfish, hungry reasons," Banner's tone was apologetic but firm while he spoke these horrors into existence, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I heard ..." the scientist wanted to say something else then but he cut himself off, pitying you. He wanted to spare you the details of the torture Loki had to endure. The people of Sakaar were not merciful.

Your life was at stake and Loki was well aware of that. He thought of you. No matter what they were doing to break him, draining him of his life and magic, he would close his eyes and go to you. You were the only thought keeping him from giving up alongside the hope that one day he would return to your arms. They would whip him and drown him, skin him or burn his body, inflicting magical illusions of you hurting. Still, he would close his eyes and search for you. As his body was giving up on him, he was not giving up on you. The mere idea of you was the only item in existence that kept him sane. The horrors would get worse with time, and his magic would get weaker but his devotion and love for you were imprinting themselves deeper into his DNA.

One particular night could have given his location away if only you would have chosen to believe the agony that was now his reality. You were haunted by the ever-present terrors of the nighttime as they often came around. It was a hot night in June when you fell asleep after hours of crying. You prayed that the realm of dreams would take you away from what you had to call your reality but what you witnessed in your nightmare was infinitely worse. A crippling sensation was running down your spine as you found yourself in the corner of a suffocating, unlit dungeon. It was the first time you saw Loki in a dream other than that of his death. He was there, in the middle of the chamber, brought to his knees and in chains, heavy metal chains that were dangling from his wrists and his ankles. Three men -if you could call them that- with anomalous markings on their faces and small horns coming out of their skulls were circling him.

You gasped forcefully, so loud that for a moment you slapped your hands over your mouth, scared that those horrifying creatures might have heard you. But the bizarre thing was that they didn't. You were a mere invisible spectator in this dream, not an actor as you often were. Loki's head was hung low, his hair matted with blood and falling over his face, shielding it from your view. You made a step towards him and called out his name. No reaction. Your hands were trembling terribly as you called to him again, making another step when you heard a raw voice speak.

"You know, I always wanted to test how much heat a Frost Giant could endure before they break," the tallest one spit out, as you finally saw the two burning iron blocks he was carrying in his gloved hands. The other two men advanced on Loki, ripping his dirty shirt off his back and the sight that greeted you made you sick with grief and despair. His entire back and torso were a reddening open wound. He had deep scars running from his neck, down his spine and disappearing under the hem of his pants. Much more scars that you remembered. They were gruesome and you found your eyes too weak to be able to look at them without wanting to scream. Blood was still dripping from some of them while others looked a few months old. The tissue around some wounds had no blisters. They were torturing him with heat. You felt like throwing up. And his chest, oh his chest. It was glowing blue and purple from the aggression it endured, wounds as large as fists growing darker and uglier.

The monster holding the two iron bricks sent a nod towards his companion on the left. As on cue, he fisted the back of Loki's hair, raising his head, making his fatigued gaze meet that of the tallest one. It was the first time you saw Loki's face since you got here and it made you sob.

"What have they done to you?" you whispered, placing a hand over your mouth. His eyes were lost in deepening violet bags, his lips dehydrated like he had not seen water in aeons. He looked worse than dead and you made a motion, trying to run towards him, wanting to cup his face and patch every wound you could cover with your hands but you found your body glued to the floor. No matter how hard you struggled, you were caged.

You realized again that this was a dream. You took one last look into Loki's hollow eyes and urged yourself to wake up. You could not withstand this nightmare.

Wake up, wake up. Please, wake up.

You kept on telling yourself, as the tall creature kicked Loki in the ribs with his boot. He groaned, but the sound was so devoid of intensity, he might as well have been dead.

"Now, you will tell us what you know if you want me to stop."

"Go to Hell," Loki's voice came out so harshly, like even muttering these three words sent knives down his throat but his eyes were icy, hatred dripping out of them and he kept his head high, his expression regal and above all of them as he took on spitting at that monster's feet like he was spitting venom.

"We are in Hell already," the horned beast laughed, slamming the two iron bricks on each side of Loki's chest forcefully.

Just as they collided with his pale skin, a scream so hoarse and painful ripped right through Loki's throat. It was the worst sound you have ever heard in your life and you instantly fell to your knees, tarnishing in your invisible prison, screaming for them to stop. Loki roared in pain once more and you started crying, begging, pleading with the unhearing beasts to let go of him.

"Stop, I beg of you! Stop!"

Nothing seemed to work, as this infinite grief was stretching into eternity. Mocking both of your torment, the torturer pressed harder. You thought he might as well just have killed your beloved judging by the cries of pain that were ripping his chest cavity open.

"Loki!" You roared and at that exact moment, his eyes blew out wide open, staring straight into yours. And you woke up.

You found yourself screaming his name in your waking state as well, crying without an ounce of control. Ice-cold sweat was dripping down your face and back and you did not make it to the bathroom as you emptied the contents of your stomach right there on the floor next to your bed. You cursed your mind for conjuring such nightmares and ended up not sleeping for two days after that.

Planets away, Loki thought he was going insane after all this torture. He could have sworn that he saw you in that room, on your knees, crying out his name for a second. Just as his eyes bore into yours, you vanished. It could not have been anything but a cruel illusion. His mind was losing its edge and wake and he must be going insane, he thought. That sight of you, no matter how heartbreaking though, kept him alive for months.

Neither one of you knew that during that moment, the Universe was merciful enough to bring you two together. Just for a second. You dismissed that vision as a nightmare and Loki thought it an illusion. You would soon find out that it was a clue all along.

Bruce was responding to question after question coming from Thor, repeating the same information over and over and you got out of your clouded mind to cut them both off.

"We have no time to waste, I am leaving for Sakaar in an hour," your voice came out determined and harsh, snatching your hand away from Bruce but Tony got ahold of you in a millisecond, finally intervening.

"Did you listen to anything Banner said? Sakaar is a suicide mision. "

"And you want me to do what? Abandon Loki? I failed him enough as it is. Let go of me, Stark," a cold stare and a forceful pull were not enough to make Tony let go of you. Thor came between the two of you then, standing by your side.

"Tony is right to an extent. Sakaar might be a suicide mission, but more than anything it is a trap set out for you, Y/N. They want you. I will go. Alone, " Thor told you, his tone final as Tony sighed, exasperated and cut you off before you could protest again.

"You two are both dim right now. You cannot go alone Y/N, and neither can you, Point Break. You cannot do that because we are coming with you. If Sakaar is so hazardous, you will need a team."

You wanted to argue again. You were truly grateful for their help but you could not ask them to place themselves in danger for you. Steve spoke before you could voice your thoughts though.

"We want to do it and we will, Loki is an Avenger and we will bring him home."

You heard Bruce and Nat agree. Thor, on the other hand, was still hesitating.

"Y/N, my brother would kill me if he knew I deliberately took you to a planet that is actively hunting you down."

"And he would also kill you if he knew you were trying to stop me from doing what I wish."

It was true. No matter how dangerous a situation would be and no matter how protective Loki's nature tended to get with you, he would always let you choose for yourself. He would never force you into being anything other than yourself and Thor knew that.

You turned towards everyone else, then.

"Suit up, get your deadliest weapons and meet me here if you want to join. We leave at sundown!" Your tone was stoic and final.

Everyone ran inside to prepare and you took a moment to inhale a deep breath. Loki is alive. You could not believe it and yet it was true. Your only wish, the most impossible of dreams. For the first time in 11 months, it felt like your heart was beating. A hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your trance. Thor returned seconds after he left and he looked at you for one moment before he crushed you into a hug. You both started crying. You have not cried in a while, being too devoid to conjure any tears.

"We will bring him home," Thor said between sniffles. You pulled back for a moment then, looking at him.

"You have to promise me something and you won't like it."

The God of Thunder was a resilient man, even after all the anguish he suffered. He was always doing the honourable thing and he loved his brother dearly. Though they were qualities you admired about him, you knew they represented a threat to the mission this time.

Drying your cheeks with the back of your hand, you spoke your next words pleadingly.

"We go there to save Loki. That is our goal. No matter what happens, Loki comes home. And if it comes down to trading lives, you trade mine, you-"

"We will all come back home. Together."

The prospect of losing either one of you was something Thor did not want to hear a word about. Yet, you pressed on.

"You cannot know that. You heard Bruce. I want us to be prepared for anything. And Thor, I am prepared to sacrifice myself if it comes to that. But you know what someone else might do in case I am in danger. You know Loki would rather die than let me get hurt and I want you-, no, to Hell with that-, I need you to swear to me that if it comes to choosing, you choose him. No matter his pleas and threats and wishes. Loki goes home."

You could see the doubts fighting behind his eyes. He was a man too just to take such decisions. But you needed his word.

"Y/N, I cannot-"

"You can and you will. Loki goes home. Swear it to me on Odin's name."

He had no choice. He knew how deep your loyalty to Loki ran, it was pointless to argue with you about that, even without his help, you would do what you set your mind to when it came to his brother.

"Thor," your tone was pleading, with the edge of a warning.

"Fine. I swear Loki has priority."

"On Odin's name?"

"On Odin's name."

The two hours you had to prepare passed in the blink of an eye and there you were, boarding the Quinjet alongside Thor, Tony, Bruce, Nat, and Steve who were joined by Vision and Valkyrie, the two remaining Avengers in the compound who were not gone on missions. You felt immensely grateful to every one of them for their presence. The flight to Sakaar was about to last for a few hours. It was a solemn, silent one. People were cleaning and sharpening knives and weapons, putting on pieces of armour.

The Asgardian armour that was adorning you was of a matte black, darker than the night itself. It was a gift from Loki after one of your almost-failed missions when you got severely injured. One snake on each of the shoulder blades was circling your forearm, it was a bewitching piece of work.

You wanted to think some strategies through for you had time to spare. But the only thing that was going through your head was Loki. How you had failed him when you knew he would have saved you from the depths of Hell itself. So you stood in silence. For hours and hours on end, you stood feeling your power burn inside of your system, tarnishing your lungs and squeezing at your heart, making it shrink more and more. It was on you. This time it was all on you. You should have searched for him to the ends of the Nine Realms.

Thor called your name softly, drawing your attention towards him. He took the empty seat next to you and you knew this was not something you would like by the already apologetic look in his eyes.

“We know that the people on Sakaar can track you by your magic, therefore Tony came up with an idea that you might not be fond of. On Asgard, we have a certain artefact, much like snuffling cuffs that stop the one wearing them from performing any spells but they also make their magic untraceable.”

Your eyes fell to his hands, finally noticing the two thick cuffs that he was holding sheepishly. He made a small pause, giving you the chance to protest. You didn’t. You were pondering this, he realized so he went on.

“I have to put these on you and only I can take them off. I will do it as soon as it is needed, alright?”

It was for Loki and everyone else’s safety and no matter how much you despised the idea, no matter how incapacitated it made you feel, you gave Thor a short nod. You were a great fighter as well, you had other skills to spare.

“Fine, but the moment the fight starts, in the possibility they caught up, you uncuff me,” you said, giving Thor access to your wrists.

What you did not consider was that these cuffs would nullify any drop of magic from your body. Even the illusions you cast on your decaying hands. Thor clasped the metal in place and retracted his hands in shock when the illusions dropped and your scaly fingers were on full display. You pulled your hands to yourself when the God tried to reach for them again.

“Y/N, what is this?” His voice was barely above a whisper, barely audible to you. “You promised me you would not let this pursuit of yours alter who you are.” He sounded disappointed, and hurt like you knew he would. Thor suspected your inclinations long before anyone else could but you soothed his worries, vowing you had it all under control. You might have failed to keep that vow.

“It is just an unimportant side effect, I am not hurt and I can hold my own. I did what I had to do.”

“You did not have to compromise yourself, you could have come to me,” he shook his head incredulously. He failed you and he failed his brother. If Loki knew that he left you to your own self-sabotaging devices for this long, he would be furious. As if his skull was transparent to you, you could see all of these thoughts running through his mind and it made you realize just how much he was also hurting. You did not want to add to that in any way. “Thor, I promise you I am fine. I am still in control of my magic and I did not hurt anyone. You were there for me more than I could ask of you and you were in pain too. No one could blame you for anything.”

Grasping his hand, he finally tore his eyes away from your fingers. He wanted to say something else when Steve’s voice came loudly for everyone to hear.

“We touch down in 15 minutes, everyone. Thor, how do we go about our plan?” The God of Thunder stood tall in the middle of the spaceship then, clearing his throat.

“Tony and Nat drop us near the location that Bruce pointed us to and we go into hiding the second we touch the ground. Y/N’s magic is masked, therefore we should be untraceable if all the attention stays on the Quinjet. You drive the sentinels away from us, far enough so we can get in, retrieve Loki and get out, but not so far that you won’t be able to be back on call. The team on the ground follows my orders, we reach the Arena and we break into the dungeons, making as little fuss as possible. Y/N’s cuffs come off only if necessary and only if we are found. We do not leave without my brother and we do not use any form of magic.”

“Copy that,” Valkyrie nodded and everyone got into their assigned position.

The plan seemed to run smoothly, no matter how much your palms were sweating and how hard you wanted to rip those cuffs off. You landed, went into the nearest tunnel and Bruce lead the way as Tony and Nat drew the threats away from all of you, bringing the chase to the sky. It all went well until you reached the Arena.

That whole arena was engulfed by silence, a silence so deafening that it made you want to scream. You had to be senseless not to realise that you had stepped into a trap. They wanted you there and you just walked through the gates and offered them what they wished for. But one should always be careful as a wish could become the most poisonous of nightmares.

A nightmare in black armour - that is what you were to them. The darkness of your magic was boiling through your veins, the need for vengeance uncontained.

"Let's split up and look for entrances, this monstrosity has tons of underground levels," Bruce said, kneeling to touch the ground and observe it.

This place was making you uneasy but you were set on turning it upside down if there was a chance that Loki was kept here. The surface that you all had to cover was vast, filled with obstacles and unnatural roots coming out of the ground. You did not wait for anyone to direct you in a certain direction, you took it into your own hands to advance towards the largest gathering of roots and thorns, using your daggers to cut through them and see what this wall was guarding.

You felt Thor's presence behind you before he managed to speak. He was following you around, trying to seem casual, when you knew that he was scared. For you, for Loki and because of you. You saw the way he looked at your charcoal-like hands now and then, how his gaze would flick from them to your tired eyes.

"I am not going mad, Thor. Stop stressing," you insisted, your back turned to him while making your way through the walls of roots.

Swinging his Asgardian steel sword, he tried to mask his intentions behind a chuckle.

"I am merely joining you, my lady. I did not suggest such a thing."

"Yet your eyes have been saying it for months." You huffed, partially because of the effort you were putting into cutting the roots with your weapons and your bare hands but also because of exasperation. It was going too slow, you were growing nervous and expectant therefore you placed the daggers back into their place and swung a wakandan spear into view.

"Whoa, where did you get that from?" Thor's eyes were wide, surprise reading all over his features as he took a step back. "Is that vibranium?" He approached you slowly, inspecting it with amazement written all over his features.

"It was a gift from Wakanda, as a sign of gratitude from King T'Challa," you turned your back to your task at hand, finding it much easier this way.

"Oh, excuse me, my Lady. I forgot everyone likes you," Thor's tone came teasingly. You knew what he was doing, trying to ease your nerves and distract you from how much stress was washing over you in waves.

You swiftly turned on your heel to face him, taking the blonde God by surprise and having to duck from his sword that was about to cut through a thick plant.

"Lady Y/N, I could have killed you," he said, picking up the sword that he dropped out of shock.

"Come on, Thor, you couldn't get rid of me so easily," you started walking backwards, rolling your eyes jokingly at the God when you heard him shout at you and pull you towards him.

"Y/N, watch out!"

As you collided with his robust chest, you slowly turned to face two metal doors carved into the ground. You were on the verge of falling through them, had it not been for Thor's intervention. You both stared at the entry and then at one another, a mixture of relief and dread shared between you.

You found it, found the entrance to the dungeons. As you knelt to touch the cold doors, Thor urged everyone in your direction. Your trembling, cuffed hand was hovering just above the middle of the opening, bracing yourself for what was coming next. Just as your fingers barely traced the outline of an inscription, Bruce's scream came tearing through you like daggers.

"Do not touch it!"

But it was too late. An explosion threw you into the air, far from the doors, making you fall on your back, loud alarms resonating off of every corner of the arena, scratching your brain, the dust rising around you clouding your vision. In an instant, the doors in the ground flew from their place as hundreds of silhouettes were emerging from behind them and from every corner you could spot, running towards you. Blurs of oddly coloured flesh were clouding your vision and the back of your head was pounding aggressively. A sort of urgency washed over you then so you shook your head a few times. You jumped to your feet, still dizzy, spear in hand and screamed for Thor.

"Come here and uncuff me. NOW!"

It all happened so fast, the fight already raging around you. Steve was shouting instructions while taking down some odd-looking creatures and you had seconds until dozens of them were about to reach you. They were gruesome, horned beasts in semi-human form, with dark green, punctured skin and they looked so familiar. In the haze, you could not place them yet. You threw one look in Thor's direction and saw that he was stuck, fighting some battles of his own so you took your position, spear ready to tear through skin and bone and attacked.

They kept coming, dozens of these monsters, lurching for you, stretching out their hideous hands to snatch you but you stood your ground, piercing their hearts, slashing their throats while looking around to find that entrance again. With a thud, Thor landed behind you, swung Mjolnir twice and took out every enemy for a one-mile radius. He quickly turned to face you, panting and releasing your hands from their magicless prison with a swish of his hand. The cuffs fell, causing a deaf sound to resonate around the space and in an instant, your veins were on fire. You placed your spear in its holder. You needed no weapon but yourself now.

"You get him out when I give you the signal. Steve already knows, my magic knows no bounds to its harm," you sternly told Thor and took off, giving him no opportunity to protest.

Wide grins were plastered all over your foes' faces as you unleashed your power. If this makes them so happy, you thought, you were going to be kind enough and give them a small taste.

You stared at the ground and solely by the expression on your face, one could easily tell that some devious idea flicked through your brain. The corners of your mouth turned upwards, into a grin that overtook all of your features and the moment you placed your hands on the dirty ground again, your eyes lifted. A deadly stare made the blood of each of your enemies freeze for a second, and then you mumbled an incantation and the ground shook itself to pieces.

It was pure chaos. Holes in the ground were eating these beasts alive, closing over them, burying them into the cement and stone. It was horrifying. You met Thor's eyes for a brief second, and a small flash of terror adorned them but it was gone as fast as it came. Your path was clear now.

"Go get him!" Thor shouted, holding some more creatures off, fighting back to back with Vision. Your eyes spotted the opening again and you sprinted towards it. A knife came for you from the side and Valkyrie screamed for you to duck, escaping it by millimetres. You were almost there. There were screams all around you but for a moment, everything stilled as you jumped into the opening in the ground, landing on a steel floor.

The hallway that greeted you was warm, dark and neverending. It was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You started running along the corridor, always keeping an eye out for anything that might hurt you from behind, taking your daggers out again, just for good measure. After a few minutes, you finally spotted a weak hue. It made you stop in your tracks. It was coming from under a thick set of metal doors and it was emerald. Loki's magic. He is here. He has to be. Something strange washed over you at that realization, something warm, almost sunny. It felt like your body could suddenly sense him and you were finally registering what all of this meant. He is alive, your love, your lifeline. And you felt scared. For the first time since you stepped on this sinful planet, you were frightened. What if you failed? What if your power was not enough? You would perish and suffer before you would let Loki die once more. He would hate it if you would ever voice such thoughts aloud because you knew he feels the same way. He was ready to meet his demise for you when Thanos came. You were prepared to do the same thing now.

Placing your hands on the solid metal, you took a breath in then the doors forcibly flew out of place, hitting the walls and ringing when they met the floor. Your knees gave out when your vision adjusted to the darkness.

Loki.

“Oh my God,” your voice shook, the sound of your name whispered in disbelief falling from Loki’s lips just as you exclaimed. You were by his side in a second, throwing yourself on your knees, for he was chained and knelt to the cement, your eyes levelling his hollow ones now.

“You found me,” he whispered, his eyes watering, his mouth hanging open as he could not believe the sight in front of him. You reached your hand out gingerly, towards his way too sharp cheekbone, tears already spilling from your eyes, silently. Your mouth was dry and you were so scared of touching him in case he was not really there. When your skin met his, he sighed and leaned into your palm. Made for him. You were specifically crafted for him, he thought. He was real. You could not register everything of how fast it was happening. The love of your life was resting on your scarred palm, cold as ever to the touch. After months of praying for this, you finally had him back. Loki opened his eyes again, registering your bewildered expression.

“I am right here, darling,” he spoke, voice so hoarse it scratched your heart.

“Oh, my love, I am so sorry,” you wrapped your arms around him in an instant once he spoke, snapping back to reality, trying to be as gentle as possible with his frail form. He leaned into you, still restrained and you distanced yourself from him for a moment, realizing his position.

“Treasure of my heart, do not apologize for anything. Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he murmured, as your vibranium daggers cut his restraints. The moment he was released, he crawled on his knees, closer to you, pulling you back into his chest. He was shaking.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. No one is going to hurt you ever again.” Reassurances of all sorts were pouring past your lips for you were desperate to bring him any sense of comfort you could muster. And you meant it. You had him now and you would rather suffer pain like no other than ever let anyone touch a hair on his head.

“You came,” he kept whispering in your hair and your heart was healing and breaking at the same time. “I love you so much, I never thought I’d see you again,” you cried out, your lips caressing the crown of his head as you spoke, cradling him into your arms. Your fingers were gently stroking his hair, as he held on to you with what seemed like all the power he had left. He looked so broken, so hauntingly empty and pale. You could feel his bones poking from under his skin as one of your hands was tracing his back, his ribs sticking out so much that you felt them pressed to your stomach as you were hugging him. But he was here, in your arms. Where he belonged. You let go of him and it took every ounce of will in your system to do so, his hands still on your waist, as yours pressed to his hollow cheeks again. That is when he saw them. Your hands. His whole face dropped and you swore you wanted to crawl into a hole in shame and just vanish.

“My dear heart, what have you done?” He took your palms in his, bringing them closer to inspect your skin. You wanted to retract them, pulling yourself away a bit. He reinforced his grasp on you and finally looked into your eyes. You expected a couple of things. Terror, dismay, disgust. Nothing of the sort was there. His eyes were pooling with the same devotion and tenderness they always held when he was looking at you, but you could see a tinge of sorrow. For what you had to do.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to hide yourself from me,” his voice was so soft, hugging you in ways you have yearned for your entire life. He understood. Of course he did. You shook your head and leaned back into him.

He was barely stable, trying to mask his trembling and winces of pain for your sake but it was a dead giveaway. His eyes were buried deep in their orbits, empty and adorned by violet bags under them and his whole face looked skeletal.

Do not cry, not in front of him. This is not about you.

You kept telling yourself but to no avail, he was coming undone into your arms despite his best efforts to seem collected and sobs tore your chest cavity to shreds. “Oh, what have they done to you?” The words evaded you before you could stop them and even now, Loki tried to comfort you. “I have been through worse, Skatt. Don’t deem me so weak,” the ghost of a smile rested on his lips but you kept shaking your head. He raised his bony hands, trembling, cupping your face as he rested his forehead on yours, cold sweat rolling down his skin. You closed your eyes, tasting his smell, ravelling under his touch. He caressed your lips with his, catching your sigh in his mouth and you melted into him as you always did.

Everything that he was became everything that you were for you forgot where his essence ended and yours began. Hasty heartbeats suffocated your chest, you never thought you would touch those lips again. You needed to get out of here now that you had him but letting go of him was the cruellest curse one could place on you.

“We have to go, baby. Can you stand?” You finally asked, still knelt in front of him and he nodded, trying to push himself up but having his knees give up from under him. You stood up then, wrapping a hand around his waist and lifting him. He tried to place as less weight on you as possible but the moment his arm came behind your shoulder, he fell onto you completely, like a dead weight.

“I will get us out of here, I promise.” The promise that you made did not manage to get cold on your lips when another voice cut in.

“You really thought I would let you go so easily, precious Y/N?” The hairs on the back of your neck stood up in terror, hurrying in your steps but Loki was too heavy and you were too slow to try and cast a spell when an odd force pulled you away from your lover and up into the air, making him fall to his knees again.

“Y/N, no!” He screamed, reaching his hands out for you as he fought so hard to get up and he almost did when a dirty boot collided with his ribs and he was on his palms again. “Get away from him!” You were struggling in the invisible grip, directing a spell at your attacker but nothing came out of your hands. You tried again, this time speaking the incantation into existence, tarnishing in the transparent claws. Still nothing. Panic clouded your mind and you screamed spell after spell but it was in vain. A screeched laugh came out at that and your hands were violently thrown behind your back, tied with a magical cord. You were dangling one foot in the air, your eyes never leaving Loki who was struggling to get to you, crawling on the dirty floor.

“Release her, now, or I will have your head,” Loki threatened, lurching towards the hidden figure with fury in his eyes but he was thrown back by the same force you were held captive by. That horrific laugh came out anew, but this time, you had a face to associate with it as the creature that hit Loki faded into view.

“This is entirely too entertaining, your magic won’t work here,” you gasped after hearing his words but most importantly because of his face. His abnormal, punctured, dark green face that you could recognize anywhere. He was in your dream, the tall torturer that burned Loki in that dungeon many months ago. Throwing a quick look around, realization dumped on you harshly, as the dungeon you were in was the same one from that night too. How could it possibly be? With a motion of his hand, the tall man made you move towards him, the strange force pulling you in until he was in your face.

Loki struggled in the grasps of this magic but to no avail.

“Truly a bewitching artefact,” the man said, tracing his fingers along your cheek. You turned your head to the side, wishing to get away from his filthy, murderous touch.

“Get your hands off her, you worthless creature,” Loki roared, wearing the most threatening expression you have seen on him. He was fighting against the restraints and it was draining all the life out of his already feeble body. You were here because of him, stuck, exposed and vulnerable and he was going insane. All of the relief he felt at seeing you had been washed away as if it had never been there. Being tortured for years to come sounded like a way gentler fate to him than having you put in any position of harm.

“You do not get to make demands, prisoner,” the Sakaarian barked, turning towards him for just a bit, waving his hand so that a thick cloth appeared, covering Loki’s mouth. You were searching your mind for every possible spell that could get you out of here but nothing was happening. Why was your magic not working?

“Stop trying to wield any magic in here, it is to no avail. You thought I would imprison two highly dangerous sorcerers and not use runes? It is only the magic that I wield that will work in this place.”

“Let him go and I will give you anything you want,” you jumped straight into bargaining, realizing you had no other choice, Loki’s life being the only thing on your mind. You heard sounds coming from Loki as he tried to protest, vehemently shaking his head.

“There is nothing you can give me that I won’t take from you anyways, little witch. But I suppose I have no use for him anymore.” That was enough from you. He could take anything away from you if it meant Loki goes free. You instantly nodded and agreed. You heard your God again, struggling and begging you with the look in his eyes to take those words back.

In a different situation, Loki would muse at the devotion you carried, carved in your veins for him. He would thank fate for this undeserving kindness and be amazed at how much love you could spare for him. But not in here, not like this. He wished that you would abandon him, desert him, hate him. He wished he had never kissed you that first time, that he had never met you if it would guarantee you would not be in this position right now. He did not deserve such love, such fidelity.

The Sakaarian approached Loki slowly and you started to apologize to your lover.

“I am so sorry, so sorry. Please leave, run away as fast as you can, Loki please, for me,” but just as you thought it was over, just as the creature dropped Loki from the magical cage and let him fall to the ground, you saw him kick Loki in the stomach and laugh.

“No, stop!” Your scream resonated off every wall and the monster turned to you, holding Loki up by the hair, a knife conjured and drawn to his throat.

“I could let him go or I could make this so much funnier for all of us and gift you his head on a spike. So you cannot say I am not merciful, that way you could always look at him when you miss him,” he laughed and you broke.

“You bastard, get away from him. I beg you, just ask for anything in this world and you will have it. Torture me, take me. I am right here, drown me, skin me alive for all I care but please, please I am begging you, put that knife down,” you were crying, screaming, trying to get on your knees, doing anything in your power to keep Loki alive. He was crying as well now, looking only at you and wishing you would stop. Wishing you would let him go. The Sakaarian dropped Loki and launched himself at you.

“You do not wish for any of that. You have no idea how much pain I can inflict. How much pain your dear God has suffered at my hands. And I would enjoy for you to see that, I would love to see you watch as I am burning him and whipping him, beating him to a pulp, would you like that of me?” You threw your head forward with incredible force at that and broke his nose. Pools of blood were spilling out as he held his hand to the wound, cursing you. Loki felt a laugh rattling in his chest. A laugh. For the first time in what felt like an eternity. Of course you would not go down without a fight, no matter the form it took.

In this madness, you did not notice the green glow that was surrounding Loki. In his time here he learned a couple of things about his torturers and one of them was that they were powerless without someone else’s magic. And the magic that was impregnating this hell was his own. He was drained, broken and ruined but there were no ends to this Universe he wouldn’t go to for you. No efforts he would spare. The moment this monster wrapped his hand around your neck, choking you for your disobedience, Loki exploded. His magic grew brighter and stronger and everywhere you looked, there was destruction. Pure destruction disguised in a green mantle, circling the body of its victim, clutching at it. The torturer was ripped away from you with such force that it seemed like he'd never even been there. Loki brought him to his knees, squeezing the life out of him with his magic.

“You die by my hands today, you disgusting creature,” a movement of Loki’s hand and the man at his mercy was screaming in anguish, reaching at his throat to try and breathe. “Death is much too kind for what you deserve,” Loki continued as the flesh on the Sakaarian’s back was ripping itself wide open, blood staining his shirt. A dagger appeared in Loki’s hand and in an instant, it penetrated the creature’s chest, straight into his heart as his whole body fell unbreathing on the floor. Loki’s own body gave up on him and his magic dissipated as you caught his form seconds before his knees met the floor.

“Get out of here, Y/N, more of them will come for you now,” he begged desperately, trying to push you away with his hands as frenzy clouded his vision, hoping that would urge you to desert him. You reached for his face, cupping it, making him look you in the eye.

"I am not leaving you, don't fight with me on this. Come on, we have to go," you pulled him up, supported his body weight and threw his hand over your shoulder before he could protest, hurrying out of this Hell and back to the surface. Loki was exhausted though and despite the effort he put in to keep going, he would fall limply and you would have to stop and help him up, encouraging him, whispering words of endearment to him to keep him from giving up.

"Brother!" Thor's voice came thunderously the second you set foot back into the arena. In an instant, he was at your side, taking his brother's weight off of you and crushing him into a hug.

"Ouch!" Loki exclaimed, his injuries still so fresh but he hugged Thor back. "I've missed you too brother but you are crushing me," Loki's muffled voice came from Thor's chest and the older Asgardian released his hold, still supporting Loki who, even now, was stubborn enough to insist that he could stand on his own. Chaos was raging and unleashing itself in waves all around you hence your brain kicking into action.

"Where are Tony and Nat? We need to get out of here."

Throwing Mjolnir towards the nearest targets approaching the three of you, Thor spoke fast, "They ran into an inconvenience. It appears an airstrike is keeping them away. Until they reach us, we have to keep resisting."

"Fine, I will secure this area while you keep Loki safe," you instructed. You could see how much Loki hated this idea by how his face contorted the instant you muttered the words.

"Stop patronising me, love. I can still fight," Loki countered, rolling his eyes in displeasure.

"I know you can, big boy," you winked but your face told him your decision was final as you instantly took off heading straight towards the most crowded part of the arena.

"Guess we're stuck on the sidelines, brother," Thor shrugged and placed himself in front of Loki, keeping any unwanted guests away.

"Are you a fool? We have to go there and fight," Loki frantically pointed his hands towards the middle of the arena where enemies were pouring out like water from every crack in the wall, suffocating the remaining team.

"Your lady will have my head if I endanger you in any way. She is right, you know? You are in no condition to fight, Loki, and I will not risk it for your ego. I barely got you back. She barely got you back."

Loki would not stand for this. You were battling more than a dozen enemies at once, the entire team was carrying fights around him as he was incapacitated and obligated to stay and watch. It will not do. Turning around to eliminate some approaching targets, Thor's attention was diverted from the youngest prince who saw this as a prospect to help. Some Sakaarians were rapidly emerging from the side as the God of Mischief tried to conjure whatever magic he had left but to no avail, he was completely drained. He could not even conjure his precious daggers, no matter his efforts. Ever the sneakiest person in the room, he managed to get to Thor without being noticed, stealing a blade his brother was carrying in the back of his belt. It had to be enough for now. With crippled steps, he advanced towards the closest creature drawing blood.

On your side of the arena, things were running smoother. Your power was ecstatic, finally being let out. A powerful blast coming from the side destabilised you and you were thrown straight through the doors in the floor, falling on your back into the tunnels. Enough with the games.

You dusted yourself off and a criminal hunger whispered in your ear. You were going to devour them. Bit by bit. For what they did to Loki. For laying even a single finger on him or throwing him a single look. You ascended the tunnels up the stairs with a different glow. A darker one that covered you like a widow's veil. Because that is how you felt for 11 months. Like a vengeful, ruined widow. No price you will make them pay will be ransom enough. You emerged back into the arena, blood dripping from your brow and even the dust appeared frightened by you, parting like the sea, letting you come through. There was a fury and determination in your eyes that made your enemies squeak. You heard their bones tremble in their bodies for the darkness and despair of the night were your allies. Your ebony magic was hugging your form, hair wild, eyes feral.

Untouchable. Eternal. Infinite.

Loki watched you in awe while everyone else was looking at you with fear in their eyes. Even your friends. But not Loki. Never your Loki. Even now when you appeared to have surrendered your light to other forces, he still believed in the good in you. After all this time, there were moments like this when you could not fully comprehend the love he carried for you. You could not have asked for it in your wildest, most courageous of dreams.

You would not tolerate it. Any more seconds of abuse, any foreign hands scarring him with immeasurable cruelty. Loki was your soul, he was your entire galaxy. You would not stand him falling into despair again. His suffering was a curse so much more wicked than any hurt that might be inflicted on you. You could take them hurting you. You couldn’t take even the passing thought of him being endangered in any way. The scars on his pale skin were in stark contrast to his frail form. Oh, how you wished you could kiss away every burn and every wound, how you wished you could show him a kinder fate. But the past was unforgiving, unmendable. You had the future still. And you were ready to give your future up for his.

You needed no bolt, no push. It was a natural decision. An instinct rooted into your entire being. It felt like something ancient inside your system snapped, a peculiar need to keep him safe. So you nodded at Thor and his eyes went wide. With sadness and disagreement. He followed your instructions anyway, pulling Loki off the ground and disappearing in such a rush, up into the sky that your lover didn’t get the chance to register what was happening until it was too late. Good. You knew he would die protecting you. He almost did so once. It was your turn.

Once every one of your friends deserted the arena, you ignited a spark within yourself. It came with a burn that made you want to vomit, a dark, primitive force surged through you, replacing your blood, leaking out of your skin in spiralling shadows hugging at your form. Your magic was pouring out of you through every patch of skin, a shade of black darker than your armour, more fearsome than the night clothing you. Seeing you alone in the field, your enemies achieved a false sense of security. They increased their use of magic. No matter. You could handle them. Blasts of power were flying from your hands when four leash-like strings of maroon magic grasped your ankles and your wrists. They were restraining you. The contact made you twist and turn, your veins almost giving up under the pressure of your own power trying to escape. A scream cut through you but it was shortly muffled by another whip of magic circling itself around your mouth and neck. You could not move for a few seconds and in the heat of the moment, your enemies smirked at your defeat, struggling to keep the magic in place, using these leashes to lift you off the ground. You suffocated for a second, your vision becoming blurry as the restraints were burning and squeezing so tight, you felt life drip out of you.

Your eyes fluttered close for a small moment and as you felt your body give up, a glimpse of Loki flashed before you. It was just a passing image of his face but it was everything you needed. You remembered why you were here, you remembered how close to him you were and how close your happy ending was. The mere thought of Loki made darkness explode out of you. You would be damned before you would let anyone tear you from him once more. There were shadows all around you, taking a human-like form, advancing on your capturers and in an instant, the scarlet magic that was keeping you, prisoner, dissipated. You remained floating in the air, a few feet above those monsters and a smirk so dark and wicked overtook your features.

“Watch it!” You warned the creature to your right, the one that was previously conjuring the magic that was silencing you. Two clawed shadow demons you produced jumped on him from the back and you squeezed your right hand in his direction, watching as his eyes were blown out of his orbits the harder you squeezed. With your other hand, the other four Sakaarians were lifted off the ground and as your fingers meet your palm in another squeeze, they were suffocating and losing their sight, blood pouring down on their cheeks, terrified screams and pleads ringing in your ears like a melody. Good. Their screams were music to your ears.

The shadows that exploded out of you were taking different forms of various disasters, wolves skinning some creatures alive, waves of darkness drowning others. It was pure terror. It was consuming you. The voices in your head were so loud, their whispers so hoarse and untamed as you unleashed the worst of yourself onto them. For Loki. Everything you ever did was for Loki. Your magic was hungry, it was vicious. It coated the entire arena, terrorizing every single living thing that was meant to harm you. And you stood above them all, floating in the air, with your hands as dark as nightmares and your eyes as hollow as a shell. Your power was only ever increasing but your body was slowly giving up on you.

As your enemies turned to ashes and you fell to the ground to your knees, you felt a warm breeze overtake you. Something familiar and comfortable wrapped itself around your waist and your body was met with heat as it got teleported somewhere else.

“Please, my love, please look at me,” your head was cradled between two big palms and the voices all around you were ecstatic, accusatory, worried. One rich tone stood out to you in particular. The one that was begging you to wake up. The one that belonged to Loki. The moment your eyes fluttered right open, you were met with your lover’s chest, Loki bringing you close to him so swiftly you melted into his tired arms. His chest started shaking immediately and you heard his sobs resonate all around you before you departed from him just enough to meet his gaze. You were both knelt on the metal floor of the Quinjet and his hands were on each side of your face, holding you a bit harder than necessary. Tears were pouring out of Loki’s eyes like midnight rain, warm and unstoppable and you did not realize you were shedding some tears of your own.

“You stupid girl,” he cried, placing a sloppy and wet kiss straight on your lips, while still holding your face. You laughed. It felt surreal. You were speechless, a trembling mess while he was ecstatic, terrified, shaking his head, sniffling, kissing you and berating you and adoring you at the same time.

“Why did you do that?” Kiss. “You could have died.” Kiss. “My wonderful, silly girl.” Another kiss. His tears were mixing with yours, your lips wet and hot and hungry for him. You took his face into your palms and pressed your lips to his again. Longer than before. With more yearning than before.

“I’ve got you, I finally got you,” you muttered more to yourself than to anyone else as you were both crying on the floor, in each other’s arms. And then he did something that made you burst into more violent sobs. He kissed your hands. Your stained hands that made everyone around you recoil, he held them and kissed each knuckle with adoration.

As he pressed his lips to the last one of your knuckles he whispered lovingly, “You have always been my salvation, Y/N.”

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I am finally back. This is my longest piece yet, with 12k words but I hope you enjoyed it. Every comment and opinion matters to my process, thank you for being here. You have all my love. Enjoy!

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