Winter Wonderland

Hush

Sat, 23 Jun 2018 02:11:24 -0400

Summary: You had recently been forced into a traumatic situation that has caused your life to become a living nightmare. Wherever you turn, there is a reminder of what had happened to you. A reminder that you had no future other than to be bombarded with memories that you had never wanted in the first place. But maybe, just maybe, that can all change with one act of very observant kindness. A trustworthy kind of kindness that could bring change to your life in ways you never thought could be possible any longer.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!ReaderOC

Word Count: 8263

Warnings: sexual violence, swearing, trauma, and severe anxiety

A/N: I’ve had this story written in my drafts for months now. I could never bring myself to post it, until something happened the other day. Life is too fucking short to silence yourself and to not listen to the important stories of others just becuase society finds it taboo. But I realized that the only way to change something is to stare it straight in the face and demand it to be changed.

You weren’t always the quiet one. You didn’t always stare at your black rain boots as you shuffled down a hallway, listening intently for the heavy thud of footsteps behind you. And you definitely were never the one to seek solace in the furthest corner of a room, closest to the exit and the furthest from attention.

You weren’t always afraid.

But these days, you can’t remember a time when you weren’t afraid. When leaving your house didn’t mean keeping your head down and your senses dialed in. When the sound of a car door slamming shut too close to you in a parking lot didn’t startle you. Or the sound of a burly man whispering down the aisle at the grocery store didn’t make your fingers scramble for the cold metal can of pepper spray in your bag, only for you to realize that he’s asking his daughter about what kind of cereal she wants for breakfast the next morning.

It’s a maddening feeling that you know shouldn’t be there. But it is.

And the thoughts of what he did to you should be gone. But they’re not. And you don’t think they ever will be.

Your therapist disagrees with you, but that’s his job. Optimism is what he’s paid to spread to people who see no future, only the shitty past. People like you. And that’s fine. You weren’t paying for these sessions anyway. That was all on your brother, the brother who pleaded with you to continue to try with this therapist despite your protests that the man was an idiot. But your brother was insistent. Just try, please. I don’t want to see you like this anymore, Mia.

Right. Because this was all about what he was forced to see every day.

But, you knew he meant well. He offered to have you stay with him for as long as you needed, which you never would’ve accepted before from your fancy lawyer brother, but your stubborn confidence has faded. You weren’t sure of yourself anymore. He had taken that from you. And now you were left afraid.

So, with your brother’s offered assistance came the therapy from hell. And honestly, it wouldn’t have been a bad idea…if only the therapist wasn’t a total jackal. But you digress.

It had been exactly a month and seven days of treatment, and all this guy had done was to tell you to stop being so afraid, to live your life for the future, and to maybe try to some meditation.

Um…great. Thanks, Generic Advice Generator. I will surely get right on that after I overcome my crippling fear of everything, apparently, all on my own.

But you digress.

However, this recent therapy visit was different. Your therapist was going on and on about his weekend away with the boys (who all met on the high school football team, himself being team captain). They went on a camping trip to Tahoe where his buddy had a cabin, or something. There was beer, and fishing, and bonfires, and beer, and…you know, it doesn’t really matter. You had stopped listening after mounted the grill to the back of my truck. It wasn’t until he mentioned getting that same truck stuck in the mud on his way home that he came to the realization that you still existed. And that’s when the lightbulb went off that teamwork is somehow the key to everything since his buddies helped to pull his car out of the mud…by calling a tow truck for him. But you digress.

The point is that now you are walking down the long, locker-infested hallway of a high school towards this magical thing that your therapist seems to have just discovered yesterday called, group therapy.

Ooh.

Aah.

Wow.

The reason behind a therapy session for grown adults being held in a high school was completely beyond you, but your therapist and brother had insisted. You weren’t sure why, and were much too paralyzed with fear to really dig down to logic and reasoning, but the locker doors were making your heart pound much faster than it should have been. The nervous flick of your eyes made you dizzy as you hugged your hood closer to your ears. The doors. What was inside of them? Who was inside of them? Which door will open? Is it that one? It’s that one. He’s inside. You are going to die. You are going to die. The screaming of your boots were the only noise that screeched down the hallway because you were late to this stupid meeting, and you were alone. You were hopelessly alone and now you were going to die. You were going to die. You were…

at the meeting….and now you felt stupid…becuase what kind of an attacker would be able to hide inside of a high school locker…and now they are all staring at you, so you better say something…anything…literally fucking anything…time’s a wastin, you idiot…

“Are you here for the Guide to Success and Sanity Social Group?” a woman in a black pantsuit and a Crest Whitening Strips smile asked, leaning forward expectantly in her chair.

Unfortunately, you answered in your head.

Your voice, as it always was these days, was gone. So, you nodded, just barely shifting your hood back to reveal your face so that she didn’t call security on the dripping wet, hooded freak that just infiltrated the “healing process.”

“Oh, wonderful!” She chirped in excitement as she craned herself out of her seat to welcome you with her hand extended, her manicured fingers beckoning you forward. “Come, come! Don’t be shy. We are all here to help each other. Come now, tell us your name, my love, since you missed our introductions.”

Of course, I did. This being late idea seemed like a great idea at first…

“Uh…Mia,” you answered quietly, just an octave above a whisper.

“Alright, Leah. My name is Trish, and it is so nice to meet you! And, we are all certainly glad to have you this evening while we discuss the merits of making plans for a successful future. Plans that really put us on a launch pad and set us off for a lifetime of happiness! Does that sound like a good place to start tonight?” You were never one to accept crap, but correcting Trish would mean having to use words, and that was not in your plan for tonight. So again, you nodded. “Fantastic, Leah! Now, that is exactly the type of attitude I like to see! A real go-getter! You are going to make a fine addition to this team,” Trish bubbled, squeezing your shoulders in a way that made you want to cry. “Now, if you would like to take a seat, then we can surely begin!”

It seemed like a very simple request to just take a seat. But, you couldn’t.

You couldn’t because the only seat that was open was, what seemed like, the furthest possible point from the exit that could’ve ever been put in a room. Why did you get to this meeting late? This was your fault. Everything was your fault.

That green, glowing EXIT sign was mocking you. You knew it was. Your eyes shifted nervously between that sign and the wooden chair in the front row to the right of the semi-circle. About fifteen pairs of eyes watched you, some sympathetic, but most were impatient. The tension was growing in the room, but you knew that most of the tension was building inside of your chest. Maybe that tension was spilling out into the audience that watched you so carefully as the spotlight from the hanging lamp directly above your head made a ring around your insecurities. They were all judging you for your insecurities, for your fears, but the seat was too far. How would you possibly escape him?

And at the same moment that Trish put her hand on the center of your back and the breath you were holding deep in your stomach released in a gasp, you heard one of the wooden chairs scoot back from its place, completely negating your gasp from all other’s ears. You hoped.

Your eyes shot up in the direction of the sound to see one of the other therapy-goers stand up out of his own chair, the chair that happened to be the one closest to the exit, to walk over to the chair where you were about to be forced into. You couldn’t believe it. If you had ever seen a miracle, this was it.

With a quiet sigh of relief, your legs awakened, and you made your way to the back corner of the group where you allowed the strain in your muscles to relax ever-so-slightly. The pain in your chest subsided as your breath returned. And it was only from this place in the shadows of the back of the room that you realized how ridiculous you were just then. From back here, you saw that very few people in the group were listening to Trish, and even less had their eyes anywhere other than the ground, the windows, or hidden behind hoods. The nervous ticks making you realize that your insecurities are the least pressing issue on any of these people’s minds…except for one.

The man who had given up his comfortable chair next to the exit for you.

For you. Ha! My vapid narcissism is clearly showing.

He must have gotten cold sitting so close to the doorway that pulled in a draft that raised the hairs on the back of your neck and made you shiver in your chair as the tip of your nose was bitten by the chill. Still, would you switch chairs? Not even if there were icicles dripping out of your nostrils.

But he didn’t know that. And why would he care? He doesn’t. He just got cold and used the opportunity that your interruption gave him to move.

However, that doesn’t mean that you weren’t going to stare at him for pretty much the next two hours. That’s one thing that did remain intact. Your curiosity. Although you weren’t going on as many risky adventures as you used to embark on outside of Trader Joe’s or maybe to the post office, but you still enjoyed a good mystery. And this man was a mystery for sure.

Well, you supposed everyone in that room was a mystery to you, but he was the only one who interested you. Maybe it was the military posture that he kept firm as he sat rigid in his new chair that he pretended wasn’t giving him anxiety at being so far from the exit now (it probably was). Maybe it was the black, baggy clothes that he wore to mask the contours of his body (they didn’t). Maybe it was the hood that he wore to cover his faintly recognizable face (it didn’t). Or maybe it was his eyes that seemed to be watching you with the same intensity that you were watching him whenever your eyes flicked over to the exit. You were sure that he thought that you didn’t notice (but you did).

It was like a game of tag, except that you were both cleverly good at not being it. Both just barely missing each other’s curious glances. It soon became a competition, at least in your mind, to see who could catch the other one’s eye first. Who would be first to be caught off-guard?

Turns out, it was you. Caught staring at his large hands gripping his muscular thighs in a way that could not be comfortable for him, but that’s as far as that thought got before his eyes found yours. At first, his expression was unreadable, very soldierly and poised as he scrutinized your body up-and-down. There wasn’t much to see considering your gray sweatpants and oversized, black raincoat that swallowed your favorite flannel and the rest of your body. And honestly, you were glad for the protection, because if he could see even an inch of your skin, you could swear that he would be able to see the way his eyes made you feel. The warmth that spread from your chest to the tip of your nose was travelling quickly through your veins, and suddenly, that draft didn’t mean a goddamned thing to you. All you could feel were his eyes. That was all you could think about. His hands. His arms. His hair. Him.

But you were still the first one to look away. Only because you heard the scuffle of something in the hallway next to you. In a panic, your eyes whipped to the exit only to find a crumbled piece of paper blow across the wet, dirty tile.

And once again, you were back to square one. Afraid of everything.

Embarrassed, you didn’t look back towards him for the rest of the meeting, knowing that he probably saw what you had just done. Instead, you kept your eyes firm on Trish and focused on your breathing exercises. They were the only thing that helped you to cope with any panic attacks. The only thing.

You didn’t know why you continued to go back to these group therapy sessions. But you did. This was one of your last sessions, so might as well finish strong.

Maybe they made you feel accomplished in that you were able to leave the house. At these meetings, you weren’t forced to speak when you didn’t want to (so to you, that meant never). But that feeling wasn’t the same for everyone. In fact, most of the other patrons were very excited to share their stories and to bond with the people around them. You respected that and eventually started to tune in to what they were actually saying.

Turns out, many of them were war veterans, lost between a time when they were celebrated for their heroism versus now when they were shunned for protecting their own country. You, personally, never understood why the soldiers were the ones to blame for going to war. They wouldn’t have had to go war in the first place if the higher ups hadn’t caused a war to fight. But maybe that was just you.

It wasn’t until about four weeks in that you realized the truly strange part of these meetings, the thing that was always gnawing at the back of your mind every time you sat in your chair near the exit: he never spoke. The man who gave up his chair, he never shared with the group.

Not that you had any room to judge since you had yet to say a word either. However, he always showed up to the meetings. Just like you. You had yet to have a staring contest since the first day that you arrived, but you still felt his eyes every once in a while. Not wandering. You could tell he was deliberate about every move he made, concise in every decision. You could feel something else behind his eyes: concern. No? Desire. Maybe? Desperation.

Come on, now you’re being ridiculous.

Well, whatever it was, it didn’t matter after the fifth meeting because he was gone. Yeah, just there one day, poof the next like a magic trick.

You didn’t want to feel hollow after the realization hit you. But you did.

He was the first person outside of your own flesh and blood (which was really just your brother and only your brother) to show you any kind of mercy or understanding whether he knew he was showing it or not. Even when he caught your eye, he looked at you not as a victim, but as a person. As if nothing happened. He knew something happened to you, or else you wouldn’t have been in group therapy, but he didn’t pity you, or undress you with his eyes.

He just seemed curious yet reserved in a ‘mind you own business’ way. And you really liked it. But now he was gone, and the little narrative that was playing out in your head was cut short like when FRIENDS was cancelled…but less important since the cast actually knew each other for thirteen years. This was just a fucked-up meet-cute scenario that only happened in your head.

Regardless, the distraction was welcomed and made time go by faster. Now, you had to find some other way to occupy your mind instead of facing what was still weighing your gut down and keeping you from functioning in society…not that you were all too ‘functioning’ before everything happened, but now…now everything felt like a challenge. What you wore made all the difference in the world. What kind of shoes you were wearing mattered. Making sure you had mace at all times mattered. There was a checklist for every time you left the house, and even when you didn’t. You were always prepared just because you hadn’t been for one day, for one hour, for one guy…some disgusting guy…at one place. Just once. And now everything was different.

But you were sure nothing changed for him. And that’s what made everything feel worthless to you. Even when you spoke up, nothing changed for him. And that’s just the way the world was.

You supposed that the therapy did help a bit in the sense that after someone mentioned being afraid of how angry they were all the time, Trish offered up the idea of channeling that energy into a hobby of some sort. So, actually taking advice from someone for once (can’t say you never tried now), you decided to take up kickboxing. Why?

Well, if anyone knew what had happened to you, they would probably guess at self-defense, and that was definitely a large part of it. However, the other part was pure rage at the society that promoted a legal system that allowed misogynistic judges to get away with letting go…him, and every other him on this goddamned planet…with only a slap on the wrist after what he had done.

He was your boyfriend at one point. You had trusted him to let him into your apartment. There was no evidence of foul play. He even wore a condom.

But they never knew about the knife. The scars you had from when you were attacked at a young age by a knife. The reason you froze when he pulled it out. Why you didn’t fight. Why you felt responsible for what had happened to you. Verbally, you did not consent. But there’s no evidence to prove what you said, or didn’t say. Only his word against yours. And you allowed him into your apartment. That’s the same as your body, right? Right?

You were ready to punch something. You wished it was the two cops who didn’t believe you and questioned you about your own virginity, your own “purity” before they even talked to him. But, the world was unfair, so you settled for a punching bag, instead.

You’d never been inside of a gym like this before. Not that you had been to any gym before this, but whenever you thought of a gym, you thought of a place filled with the sweaty masses groaning their way through whatever torture devices they decided to burden themselves with. And judgey eyes on judgey trainers and gym-goes alike. You preferred to be…literally anywhere else.

But this place was different. It was small and secluded in a way that felt welcoming which was far off from the aggressive sales pitches demanded by any other gym. This felt more like a yoga studio fitted with a boxing ring and a stack of bags to provide training for an entire army. It wasn’t familiar to you, but when you put your mind to something, it became an obsession until you felt confident in what you were doing. You had watched a few sleepless nights’ worth of Youtube videos on kickboxing, now you just had to learn.

Shouldn’t be too hard. No big deal.

Oh, fuck. Never mind, this is a big deal. Where do I put my foot if my other foot is over here? Nope, that’s wrong. Yeah, that definitely doesn’t feel right. Is that move supposed to hurt that bad? I’m gonna break my ankle if I keep this shit up.

Safe to say, things weren’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped. But now, you were determined, coming in every day, sometimes twice a day, with a vengeance. You knew this was all distraction and you still weren’t really talking about what was keeping you from letting things go, but this was way more entertaining. Despite how awful you were, it would tire you out and by the end of the day, you would need to sleep. It wasn’t a request from your mind to your body that got rejected and thrown into the shredder, but something that just came naturally, which was an incredible change.

The only thing that didn’t seem to be changing was how awkward your body felt against those punching bags. Again, the gym had never been your friend, so this was new to you. It wasn’t until two weeks in that one of the men, who all seemed plenty friendly and open if you had any questions (which, of course you did, but you would never ask for help), started to notice you. You faintly recognized him from somewhere but could never quite place where. Whenever you were feeling a bit lost, you would always seek inspiration by watching him. Just quick glances here and there, but you always made notes on his body position. It was easy to tell that he knew what he was doing. You just wished it was as easy to watch as it was to actually do.

He was toweling off one day after he almost destroyed one of the punching bags on the opposite side of the room from you, and like magnets you could feel his glance, just like anyone else’s. The only reason you homed in on him was his hesitation at the door. You tried to ignore his pause and continue your workout, but he took a look towards the ceiling with a sigh, then made his approach.

He stood in your line of vision to your right, watching your stance carefully as you threw one last punch before taking your headphones out of your ears.

“Pardon me,” he asked politely, his eyes careful as you finally looked up to his face. He was carved from marble, yet still soft and honest in a way you couldn’t explain but felt comforted by. Not that your body lessened in rigidness, but still. “I don’t mean to interrupt, and this is incredibly rude, and I’ll leave if you want, but…may I offer you some advice?” He asked, and as compelled as you were to ignore him and put your headphones back in to block him out, you nodded, desiring deeply to know what he knew. He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Alright. So, your stance is good, but maybe bend your knees just an inch more to establish more balance and to keep your center of gravity closer to the ground. It will strengthen your hits and prevent injuries which…I just wouldn’t want that to happen when it’s such an easy fix. Have you ever had lessons before?”

You shook your head slightly, making him nod. “Okay, okay. That’s alright. In fact, that’s amazing. I’ve seen you around here, and I can tell you have the strength to put in the punches. I mean, that punching bag doesn’t have a chance once you find the right fighting stance,” he complimented, making you smile. You could tell he really liked that, but he quickly shifted back into his neutral expression. “But for now, just work on bending your knees and not locking your joints after you throw a kick.” You nodded again, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you.’ He responded with a quiet ‘you’re welcome’ back as your eyes met his again. You could tell he was scrambling for something else to say, but he settled for, “I’m Steve, by the way. Steve Rogers.” He introduced, offering you his hand. In your panic, you pretended to not notice his hand and instead reach down for your water bottle. He clearly noticed, but didn’t say anything about it, just let his hand drop to grip the handle on his bag.

“Mia,” you answered back to him before taking a sip of water. The name dawned on his face as he smiled to himself.

“I knew that’s what it was,” he laughed as you scrunched your eyebrows at him. “Trish kept calling you Leah at the meetings and I knew on the first day that I clearly heard you say Mia. Thought I was losing my mind for a second.”

“Trust me, the feeling was mutual,” you responded with a half-smile. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere, too.”

“Are you still going to the meetings, or…?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Not exactly the most uplifting environment.”

“I’d have to agree with you on that,” Steve smiled. “Probably why I left.”

“And you turned to fighting?”

“Turned back to it,” Steve admitted. “Seems like you found a home here too.”

“Once I find my footing,” you shrugged. Steve seemed to debate something in the intermittent pause, but once he glanced at your face, he acquiesced.

“Well, if you ever have any more questions…you know I’ll be here.”

“Breaking bags?”

“I always pay for them,” Steve defended with a sheepish grin, making you roll your eyes and scoff.

“How gentlemanly,” you teased quietly as you slipped your gloves back on. “I’ll let you know and thank you.”

“Anytime…Mia,” Steve emphasized with a tip of his head before he left the gym, his offer hanging in the air leaving you breathless. You hadn’t had a full conversation with someone, much less a man other than your brother, in months. What made you open up to him? Guess you really wanted to know how to box. Dedication and desire makes you do some crazy things.

It was almost a week later when you approached Steve again. You were extra anxious due to your court date being set for the following month. You didn’t realize it would be that soon, but you supposed sooner was better than later. Although you would have to see him…to testify in front of him.

He raped me! He raped me! He raped me!

But you didn’t report the incident for a full three months.

That doesn’t mean that I am any less important now than I was the day that it happened. Because he raped me. And he could get away with it. Because of all the mistakes that I made…because I was the one who made the mistakes?

You swung wildly at your bag, the sweat pouring off your nose and into your mouth with the taste of blood from biting your cheek after the phone call on the way into the gym. Your head pounded like a jackhammer in your brain, but you couldn’t stop. How could you? If you stopped, he got away with it. You couldn’t stop. You didn’t even care about form anymore, you just took your shots where you could until a spasm hit your shoulder and you hugged your bag until it stopped, until the spinning stopped, taking a seat on the wooden box next to you as you threw your headphones in a crumpled heap on the ground in frustration and took a sip of water. You stretched out your shoulder and raised your eyes across the gym to find Steve killing it, as always. And as always, he seemed in control of his thoughts and emotions, channeling them into his kickboxing.

Wonder what that’s like?

Grabbing your towel, you crossed the gym past the rust covered walls and faded wallpaper to stand in front of Steve just within his eyesight as he did to you. Immediately, he paused his workout to steady his bag and focused on you.

“Nice to see you again, Mia,” Steve beamed at you making your stomach do a flip. You suddenly realized what you were doing and got nervous, quickly thinking about running to grab your stuff and bolt through the door. Steve followed your darting eyes towards the doors and took a step back to sit on the chair next to him, making himself shorter and less intimidating. “Did you have a question? I’d love to help if you have one.”

“Yeah…uh, yeah I do.”

“Shoot,” Steve encouraged you with a nod and you took a breath.

“I was just wondering…I just…keep falling out of balance when I, uh…when I come out of a kick and I just…I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Alright…can I see? Could you show me an example?” Steve asked, and you felt your eyes go wide, but swallowed your nerves. He was just trying to help, and you asked. “Hey, no pressure. Just do what you normally do. I’m always here anyways, so what’s the difference, right?”

You nodded at that because he was right. It seemed like you were both here more days than you weren’t. Squaring off to the bag with your shoulder, you raised your fists, bending your knees as he advised, and leaned into your kick. Your landing wasn’t as awful as it normally was, but that’s probably because you had an audience. Steve nodded as he stood and you stepped out of his way.

“When you’re coming off your kick, you’re more on your front foot than your back, so all of your weight is being pushed forwards which is the last thing you want in a fight. You landed on your toes, though, so you’ve got the energy to keep up, you just need the balance. May I?” Steve asked you and you nodded as he assumed his stance, throwing a few kicks to show you where to hit the bag on your foot and how to shift your weight properly. You watched his mechanics closely and it was mesmerizing. You could have watched him all day, but you had shit to do and kickboxing to learn. He motioned you forwards and you stepped up to the bag. You tried doing what he had done, but it was still off somehow. It was better, but not Lucia Rijker better. Not even close.

Steve was motivating enough, but you just didn’t feel like you were getting it. With a sigh, you leaned against the bag attempting to regain your breath before shaking yourself off to try again. As you went for your first punch, you felt Steve dangerously close to you as he tried to guide your hand, just barely grazing your elbow before you turned and almost jabbed him in the face, but managed to fall backwards instead to avoid his face at the last second.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Steve exclaimed in shock as you went down. He tried to squat next to you to help you up, but you put your hand out to stop him.

“Don’t, please,” you begged, attempting to calm yourself as you told yourself over and over that Steve wasn’t him. Steve was trying to help.

Get out of my head. Get out of my fucking head. You don’t belong here.

“Can I help?” Steve asked, but you shook your head.

“No…no, it’s not you,” you choked out. Understanding seemed to dawn on Steve’s face as he looked down at his hands, holding them up in surrender as he backed off a bit to give you space. The gratitude you felt in that moment was overwhelming, but you refused to cry. Instead, you stood up and resumed your position, rocking back and forth on your heels as you cracked your neck.

“Mia…I know a trigger when I see one,” Steve whispered, trying to comfort you, which you appreciated but now wasn’t the time. “If you ever want to talk…”

“Let’s just try this without, you know, hands on experience, yeah?” You asked, ignoring his offer that he quickly dropped with a nod instead. You returned your attention to the bag, and Steve continued to teach you for the next two hours. Even past closing, Steve asked the owner of the gym for overtime and the guy just threw Steve the key without hesitation who caught it with a thank you.

It soon became routine for training with Steve three times a week for however long both of you could stand (which you quickly realized was virtually infinite for Steve when he admitted to being Captain America with the super soldier serum and all kinds of junk that made him pretty much invisible).

“So, if you got hit by a car?”

“Safe.”

“Fell off a building?”

“Depends how high.”

“Run over by a blimp?”

“Highly unlikely, but sure.”

You two got to know each other pretty well over the months, even talking about things they wouldn’t admit to themselves. Steve was struggling with coping with the new world and sometimes wished he had maybe not survived the crash. He didn’t have a death-wish now, but still…the passing thought hit him more often than he would like.

“There are some things in life that you just can’t get over,” you answered him. “Your life is so far beyond changed that it feels like you are living in an entirely different person’s body. Like there was a before and an after. It doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy the after, it just means that things will be different now.”

“Which isn’t all bad,” Steve shrugged after a moment. “Google is extremely effective. I’ve learned more about the world in the past week than I have in my entire life,” Steve laughed. “That list you gave me was incredible! I can’t stop thinking about that video of that guy surfing the Mavericks. I mean, that was…”

“Freedom,” you finished for him. “The dedication it takes to get to that level of something you’re passionate about…and just the pride on his face when he got back to shore…that’s all I want,” you admitted, making Steve gaze at you. You acted like you didn’t notice, but you totally did.

“Then what the hell are we sitting here for?” Steve smiled as he offered you his hand to help you up. After a moment, you took his hand and prepared to continue the rest of the training.

It was weeks after that that you two began to spar. He taught you to look for weak spots in your opponent, how to defend and use your opponent’s offense against them, and most importantly (just because it’s so goddamn fun) he taught you how to perform a takedown, which is just…fuck it feels good.

And that moment you finally chucked Steve’s almost two-hundred-pound rack of muscles over your shoulder, you let out a victory howl as you ran around the empty gym, punching bags as you went while Steve sat on the ground and watched you with a laugh. As you approached, he high-fived you and pulled you into a hug that you were completely comfortable in. The pride on his face was contagious and you were so happy. Happier than you’d been in a hot second. Steve had done that for you and you couldn’t be more appreciative.

Steve stopped suddenly with a dramatic huff, crossing his arms with his eyes on the ceiling. “I mean, that was alright. But I think you could do better.”

“Damn straight! Now get your ass over here so I can smash it into the ground!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve beamed at you as you rolled your eyes having told him time and time again that the 21st century was past that kind of chauvinism, but sometimes you found it cute. You would never tell him that, but he knew.

It was a beautiful evening at around the time when the sun was still setting, but the stars were just beginning to wake as they glittered across the sky. You had received a text from Steve last night saying that he wanted to meet a day early this week since he had plans on the day they were normally scheduled. Of course you obliged because kickboxing had offered you a sense of confidence that was so sacred to you that even now walking at night seemed like a breeze to you. There was always going to be the voice in the back of your mind that warned you of danger every time you left the house, but that was just common sense in this day and age for anyone.

You walked in about ten minutes early to get your equipment set up and your warm-up in. Typically, Steve set up the equipment but he said in the text he would be running a bit late today, so you went into the back to grab the bags. Jacco, the gym’s owner, had given Steve a key a while back that was tossed between yourself and him over the months. As long as you paid for your time, he trusted you both extremely well.

You remembered once walking in to one of your sessions early one day to find Steve knock out five bags, sand pouring out of the sorry sacks on the ground before you made yourself known with a cough. He whipped back to see you standing there with a smirk on your face as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You’re early,” was all he managed to say before you joined him in the ring.

“And you’re angry,” you pointed out, cocking your eyebrow at him. “Care to meditate on that?” Then, proceeded to carefully beat the shit out of each other.

You smiled in memory at that day and the next few hours of training ahead of you as you hung one of the bags on the chain, the jangle intermixed with the sound of the door opening behind you. Naturally, you called out to him, making a joke about yourself getting to the studio before him. You were both highly competitive. It was an easy thing to poke fun at. So fucking easy.

CRACK.

In seconds, you were in a choke hold that made your chest explode in terror and your neck tick as the air had no way to escape your lungs. You felt lips against your hair as the familiar scratch of unkempt facial hair scraped your skin like sandpaper.

His breath was day-old beer and chewing tobacco that he popped in your ear as he shoved his hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. And with one word, you knew it was him.

“Hush,” he cooed at you, apparently attempting to calm you, but you were already frozen. Your fight was lost in the sea of fear that was flooding your veins in ice. Even if you could breathe, you weren’t sure if you would know how to anymore. You could feel him stroke your hair after his hand left your mouth, the other staying wrapped around your neck, but loosening as he made the deduction that you weren’t going to fight him. He knew you just that well.

“You’ve gained some muscles on those bones, babygirl,” he teased, grabbing your waist as he moved lower and lower down your body, but you were numb. “I missed you. I thought about waiting until the court date to see you, but that was too long. Plus, I wouldn’t get to touch you like this…smell you like this…” he whispered hungrily, but you didn’t make a sound. Your whimpering had ceased after your immediate fear, but now was all about keeping the peace.

“But those are just extra features. No, baby, what I came here for was to give you a message. Guess I didn’t make it too clear the first time,” he ranted as he slipped a knife from his pocket that made you tense. You knew he could feel it, but there was no helping how wrecked you were by the sound of the blade.

“I don’t want you back. I just want you quiet,” he spoke softly, tenderly as if you were lying in bed together the morning after. He had no concept of what he was doing or what he had done. This was just another day to him. “I don’t want to be rude, but you’ve been causing me a lot of trouble with the cops.”

No, shit. You look like a homeless drunk that got face-fucked by a bus. Are you nervous now?

“Now, you could make this easy for the both of us and keep that mouth locked up tight. You stay quiet and I stay out of prison. We never see each other again. It’s a simple as that, baby cakes. As simple as that,” he swore as he dragged the blade over your throat.

Until you rape someone else. Just like the girl before me. Will it be simple then? Tell me. I want you to tell me how simple that would be.

“I just want you to know how sorry I am at how out-of-hand all this got. I mean, I remember when we used to talk about our future. How we both wanted the same things. How alike we were. It was magic. You were magic. And I just wanted you so much and you wouldn’t let me…but when you look this good…can you blame me for loving you that much?”

There was no warning. Just as quick as he was on you, you hurled him over your shoulder, slamming him into the ground where he belonged. Sitting on top of him, your fists came down on him as if you couldn’t feel pain. Your knuckles cracked and bled, breaking finger after finger, but he was in more pain just as he should be. He shoved you off of him with one punch where you rolled under the ring, finding an extra chain that you wrapped around your fist. Ripping aside the ring’s curtain, you found him steadying himself on the edge of a chair. You threw out the chain like a whip that licked the side of his head as he fell to the ground. You dragged his unconscious body to the same chair and wrapped him in the chain, giving him one last punch to secure that he was unconscious.

You dove for your bag to grab your phone, beginning to call the police before you heard him moan. Your finger froze over the last digit as you slowly turned your head to the wretched sound. His head was still dangling, blood and saliva dripping from lips as he struggled to lift his head to no avail.

That was when the thought crossed your mind.

He can’t hurt anyone else if he’s dead.

You glared at him, fingers crawling towards a metal pipe that was lying next to you in the corner of the room. Wrapping your hand around the cold metal, you lifted yourself heavily off the ground, stalking towards him as you slid your phone in your pocket. It seemed like the longest moment of your life, but some things are worth the consequences. And this, you decided, was worth it.

Raising the pipe above your head, you prepared to strike. Your whole body was on fire with your chest burning as you screamed at the top of your lungs, needing some way to escape the flames. It was at that moment that he woke, his eyes flashed to yours and he looked…amused. The sneer curled his lips as he licked the blood off of them, spitting the excess on your foot.

“You’ve gotten this far, baby. What are you waiting for?” he choked out, his teeth coated in slimy red as he smiled, coughing at your hesitation. “You gonna make me wait all day? Like I waited by your doorstep that night? I’m waiting, Mia! Just do it! Hit me, Mia! Hit me! Hit me!”

You looked into his eyes and thought of your brother looking at you through a window in prison. A phone in his hand, his voice in your ear, but the distance still unbearable. Steve’s eyes flashed in your mind as well, thinking about the disappointment in them if you were found guilty of murder. Maybe it’s defense, and maybe he deserves it, but you deserve so much better.

You dropped the pipe, the clang one of the loudest sounds you’d heard in your entire life. No, wait. The silence. The silence that immediately followed was the loudest. The silence was deafening.

“Well, how about that, baby. You proud of yourself? Why the hell didn’t you just take your damn shot? Like always, you missed your chance, baby. Missed. Your. Chance,” he taunted you, letting his head fall backwards over the chair as he let out a garbled cackle that echoed around the room. In a controlled rage, you grabbed him by his hair, ripping enough follicles out to make a pair of false eyelashes. You brought his eyes level to yours that were wide in a shock that you’d never seen on him before and thoroughly enjoyed.

“Maybe because you’re just not fucking worth it,” you spit at him, throwing him backwards as you pulled the phone from your pocket and dialed the police. He chastised you the entire time it took them to show up, but you just sat in the chair in front of him and watched him beg. He didn’t want to go to prison, he said. He couldn’t handle it, he said. He had a reputation to hold up with his father’s company, he said. He said so much that he became a blur.

All he became was the past.

The court date came and passed. Five years in prison with an extra five on parole. It wasn’t enough, but when the hell would it ever be enough? The only thing they could really charge him on was your own rape (despite the testimony of two others that had passed their statute on limitations), and the assault in the gym. The gym that you planned to go back to the following day, but you had one more thing to do before you went back.

You knocked on his door with recovering fingers, some still bandaged, some healed. He opened to door with surprise flashing across his comforting features, ocean eyes crinkling at the sight of you.

“Mia, I…what are you…how did you find my apartment?”

“Jacco is a kinder man than he gives himself credit for.”

“Very true,” Steve nodded as he took you in, clearly deciding whether to say something or not, but you helped him out.

“I’m okay, really,” you asserted and he half-smiled, then stepped aside to motion you into his apartment.

“Would you like to come in? I can make tea, or…”

“Oh, no,” you laughed. “No, it’s alright, I actually have to be somewhere. I just came by to tell you…I came by to thank you.”

“Thank me? You thank me every day, and I always tell you it’s unnecessary. You’re an incredible fighter, and it’s an honor to train you.”

“Yes, but…” you bit your lip to hold back tears. “I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have been able to testify against him had I not been able to fight. To have the confidence to fight back. And you gave that to me.”

Steve stayed silent for a moment, and before you could apologize for bothering him, he spoke up with a sigh.

“I didn’t do anything, Mia. I may have told you where to punch and how to punch, but you landed the punches. You punched back. You should be thanking yourself, not me.”

You looked up at him, knowing that you wanted this boy to be in your life for a lot longer than just a sparring session.

“Do you have time tomorrow night to meet?” you asked him as he beamed at you.

“Yeah. You still have the key to the gym?”

“What about dinner, instead? My treat for you teaching me the tricks,” you finally openly flirted with him which made him smile even wider, maybe even a bit of blush rising in his cheeks if you were seeing that right.

“Your treat?”

“21st century, Rogers. Get with the times.”

“I’ll get with the times, if I can get with you,” Steve flirted back which made you gasp dramatically.

“Oh, the neighbors will have a field day with this one!” You shouted, making him laugh. “Call the presses. Captain America has a naughty streak!”

“Alright, alright,” Steve settled down as you both looked at each other again.

“No matter what you say, I will still always thank you. I mean, yes, I beat his ass into prison, but still,” you responded happily as you turned to leave. “Tomorrow night. Meet at the gym.”

Steve laughed, not sure exactly if this was how dating worked, but he nodded anyways watching after the girl who had gotten his heart to start pounding again by pounding her fists.

You walked down the block to the gym, taking a seat on the bench across the street. The more you stared at the rickety old place, all you could think of was the peeling wallpaper and the spiderwebs that covered the locker rooms. You thought of the fist-bumps, the cheering, the sweat, the burn, the tears, and the pain. But none of things you thought of were him. All the things that came to your mind were the hard work you’d done and everything you’d accomplished.

You never thought that you would ever become a comeback story, but your freedom spoke enough volumes to fill a library. And that was enough.

*hello, my fellow heathens. This was an idea that I’ve been itching to post for a long time now. I know it’s not my usual content, but I wanted to post it anyway. Kickboxing and Marvel have been huge influences on my life in the absolute best possible ways. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to let me know xx

peppperpotts: [Insp.]

Thu, 21 Jun 2018 05:34:37 -0400

peppperpotts:

[Insp.]

Chapter 2: Currently Fearing the Reaper {Avengers x Fem!Reader}

Wed, 20 Jun 2018 06:01:11 -0400

~Part 7~ The Life of an Avenger: Destiny Arrives

Summary: The reader struggles with her new-found power after Doctor Stephen Strange helps her to re-connect with the Power Stone much to Bruce Banner’s controversy. This could mean the difference between life and death for half the Universe once Thanos steps up to reclaim his prized possessions from Earth right in the Avenger’s own backyard: New York City.

Words: 6340

Warnings: **INFINITY WAR SPOILERS** and swearing

A/N: I love writing with Infinity War as the backbone! I think I might be making the plot thiccer than I have to, but you can bet your beautiful ass I’m gonna do it anyways. And before you comment, yes I am well-aware that the POV situation is incorrect and plays fast and loose with the rules when it comes to filling plot points. Now, if I was a professional novelist, this would be an issue, but this is a Tumblr fanfic, so…get over yourself, or don’t read it xx

MASTERLIST | Chapter 1

TONY’S POV

An hour into the day, and Tony was already a mess. He didn’t even wake up a mess which was his typical protocol. To think he was halfway down the Happy Trail to not being in an absolute spiral of self-loathing and misery when this wizard came in and destroyed everything. For God’s sake, he was planning to have a baby with his future wife!

“Tony Stark, my name is Wong. You need to come with me,” Wong announced himself as he stepped through his portal that flickered flames of white magic into Central Park where Tony and Pepper had been taking an early morning stroll, something so normal one second, and then…

“I’m sorry, you giving out tickets to something?” Tony taunted the sorcerer who remained vigilant.

“We need your help. I fear the fate of the Universe is at stake,” Wong proceeded urgently.

“Who’s ‘we?’” Tony scoffed, staring in disbelief as one of his best friends emerged from the portal, the man’s eyes betraying an intensity of panic that Tony had never seen before. “Bruce?” Tony coughed in surprise as Bruce crashed into Tony, gripping his shoulders to convey the complete loss he was at. “What the hell is going on?” Tony demanded from Wong who shook his head.

“Dark times are upon us, Mr. Stark, and you are among one of the few people who may be able to stop it,” Wong admitted, but Tony needed more than that to put on the suit and jump into action.

“Look, if that’s all I’ve got to go on, then the Dark Times are always upon us. Ever heard of Global Warming?” Tony pegged Wong, but Bruce pulled back to look at Tony, tears brimming his eyes.

“Tony…it’s so much worse than before,” Bruce divulged. “And (Y/N)…”

“What about (Y/N)?” Tony prodded Bruce, his heart leaping into his throat at the mention of her name. “Is she with you?”

“She’s got the Power Stone back,” Bruce answered, shocking Tony. “Loki gave it to her.”

Looking into Bruce’s eyes, Tony felt the presence of an anxiety attack fill his belly like bugs desperately trying to escape from a jar, but the lid was shut tight. Tony turned to Pepper with steely eyes, a masked expression Pepper recognized and saw right through. He was in pain.

“I’m so sorry, honey, but I have to go,” Tony choked out to Pepper who approached him with a worried expression and a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re always sorry,” Pepper sighed, placing her hand on Tony’s chest. “But, this sounds serious. Besides, I expect you’ll make it up to me.”

“Another giant stuffed rabbit?” Tony attempted, smirking at her frown before kissing her cheek. “I’ll think of something.”

“I’m sure you will,” Pepper acknowledged with a quick nod as she let Tony go, praying with every piece of herself that this was a quick fix. It almost never was, but she always hoped.

Stepping through the portal, Tony was met with a load of Sci-Fi nonsense about Sakaar, Asgard, Thanos, and a whole fifth-grade-trip-to-the-planetarium-lecture on Infinity Stones that he wouldn’t have believed had he not survived what he’d survived so far, yet the words just wouldn’t connect in his mind, especially considering most of his mind was taken up with one important question:

“That’s great and all, and I plan to deal with that mess of words you just offered me once I can wrap my head around ‘Devil’s Anus,’ but first…I need to see (Y/N). Where is she?”

“Stephen is seeing her now,” Wong answered ominously as Tony threw him a look.

“Doctor Stephen Strange, another sorcerer who apparently runs this place, is helping reconnect her ‘spirit,’ or something with the stone,” Bruce explained as best he could to Tony who looked like a deer caught in headlights. “I know, I tried to stop her, but…it’s (Y/N). She does what she wants.”

“That stubborn, little…she knows better than that,” Tony cursed, turning to Wong. “Hey, you! Yeah, any opinions on all this, Mortal Kombat?”

“I’ve seen Stephen save Earth once before. I do not expect any less this time around.”

“So, he’s done this before? That’s where he was after he disappeared from his medical practice? Protecting Earth in this Hell Dimension?”

“Dark Dimension,” Wong corrected. “And, I suppose in simple terms, yes. He fought Dormammu to preserve Earth from his collection of planets by enforcing the use of the Time Stone.”

“…it’s like when we learned about Thor and Loki for the first time. Thought they would be the weirdest of it, but nope,” Tony muttered to Bruce who nodded in stunned agreement. “So, how long has he been, you know, wizarding?”

“Long enough,” Wong defended his friend, but before Tony could comment, the entire Sanctum rumbled as if a thunder cloud erupted directly beneath their feet, shaking pictures off the walls with crashes that paled in comparison to the far-off echo of a girl screaming in immense pain that sent Tony into a panic.

It was (Y/N).

“Where is she?” Tony started out quietly, pacing the room in search of the source, then turned to Wong with rage in his eyes like flashing warning signs. “Where the hell is she?” Tony shouted, charging the sorcerer. Bruce tried to calm him down, but he was inconsolable. “Show her to me!”

“She’s in good hands,” Wong promised. “Stephen must not be disturbed in the middle of his-“

“I don’t give a damn what we’re interrupting. She’s in pain and I’m pissed off,” Tony vouched as his Iron Man hand wrapped around his open palm that faced Wong, danger written across his reddened face. “I’m not asking again.” Bruce might’ve wanted to talk things out, but desperate times…

Taking a large surrendered huff, Wong’s hands smashed into something mid-air that caused a ripple effect like a JARVIS hologram of some sort…but much more Charmed than Tony liked.

Between the shattered glass, Tony could make out two figures that appeared to be doing some kind of séance, disappointingly without candles or a Ouija Board. Suddenly, there was a flash of purple light that sent both people tumbling to opposite sides of the room, but Tony immediately recognized the wild (Y/H/C) hair that belonged to the only person, besides Bruce and Pepper, that really understood him. His person. His person that he betrayed for reasons that didn’t make sense to him anymore as he watched her examine her hands that were alight in amethyst magic that he’d never seen on her before but was equally impressed by until he noticed how labored her breathing was…as if she was about to have another heart attack.

Bolting through the portal without a second thought, Tony tried to approach (Y/N) by calling out her name, not sure how she was going to react to him.

Her eyes immediately flickered up to his, but they weren’t her eyes. They were projecting amethyst light like she was being possessed by something beyond Earth which only scared him further until she blinked out the light to focus on him, instantly boring holes into his skull as she made a fist that sizzled with vengeful magic.

Yep, that was more like (Y/N).

Tony smiled awkwardly, leaning against one of the pillars. “So, not too happy to see me again. Understandable, understandable…” Tony trailed off as (Y/N)’s eyes refused to cease in their intensity, making Tony swallow nervously, himself not very good at apologies. “I know we had our differences, but you’re not gonna try and kill me, right? Your best friend? The Ass in Iron Ass?”

“I’ll try my best,” (Y/N) snarled, her eyes still on him.

“To not kill me, or…?” Tony tried to joke, but his confidence staggered.

“We’ll see,” (Y/N) deadpanned.

The silence in the room was deafening, until something tapped on the wood flooring with a thump. It was soft, but the sound reverberated against the walls with everyone’s heavy breathing. It wouldn’t have been noticed if Tony hadn’t been staring directly at (Y/N)’s face, tears rolling down her cheeks until her hair hid her agony, but Tony had already seen it.

“(Y/N)…I-I am so sorry…” Strange struggled to begin as Tony remembered he was the one who did this to her. With anger coursing through his body, he took a step towards the broken wizard and opened his mouth to say something, but (Y/N) beat him to it.

“You should have warned me,” (Y/N) croaked through her swollen throat, watching Strange’s eyes brim with shocked tears from the floor across from her.

“I-I didn’t know that that was what the spell entailed. The Dark Dimension is…darker than I previously thought,” Strange tried to explain, but (Y/N) was over it.

“You had no right to what you saw,” she countered. Tony couldn’t tell if it was rage or fear that was shaking her body, but he could tell she was moments from exploding.

“When the book said you would face your worst fears, I had no idea they would be that detailed and that your fears would be…forgive me, (Y/N). Are you alright-“

“Don’t touch me!” (Y/N) screamed, backing away from Strange who tried to reach out to her, but in seconds she was up and running out of the room, dodging the crater in the staircase to get to the second floor of the building. Knowing she needed time to herself, Tony charged Strange instead.

“What did you see?” Tony demanded as Strange tried to pull himself together, wiping at his eyes.

“More than I should have. I don’t understand how one person can have so much…pain,” Strange pieced together, his eyes shifting quickly in his head, dizzy from (Y/N)’s nightmarish memories. He knew now that what had happened to his hands was entirely his fault, but (Y/N) …she didn’t deserve what had happened to her. Not by a long shot.

“And you still shouldn’t. Whatever you saw, it doesn’t sound like you got her consent to see it. Pretty sure that’s a crime somewhere over at Hogwarts,” Tony retorted, nose-to-nose with Strange.

“Tony Stark…what a pleasure it is to finally meet you,” Strange condescended, finally regaining his whit. Just because he was apologetic towards (Y/N) didn’t mean that he was towards her friends.

“You as well, Doc. Came to complain about my lack of Acceptance letter in the mail as a kid, instead found you harassing my best friend. Care to explain yourself?” Tony posited, leaning against the staircase banister, resisting the urge to look towards the second floor as Wong stepped forward with a tired look on his face.

“I already explained to you that Stephen was helping (Y/N) to-“

“Helping?” Tony scoffed at Wong. “You and I clearly have different definitions of helping someone, because that…that was a scene straight out of Insidious if I’ve ever seen it.”

“Insidious?” Wong puzzled, but Tony shook his head.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” he muttered to himself as Bruce made himself known.

“Tony, I tried to stop her. I meant to find you before she went through with…you know, what you just saw, but I wasn’t convincing enough.”

“And what exactly is it that I saw, Doctor?” Tony pegged Strange who’s face had become stone.

“I did what I had to do,” Strange swore. “It’s best for her, and definitely best for what’s coming.”

“Thanos,” Bruce finished for him. “The Other Guy fought him after we left Asgard, and Tony…not even he was a match. Thanos threw Hulk around like a dog’s chewtoy.”

“Well then, if Thanos needs all six stones, then why don’t we stick this one down the garbage disposal?” Tony attempted, pointing to the Time Stone around Strange’s neck.

“No can do,” Strange answered. “We swore to protect the Time Stone with our lives and now (Y/N), just as she had decided to do, has the burden of protecting the Power Stone.”

“I don’t doubt that she can do that. She’s been doing it for years, but…you don’t know her like we do,” Tony argued, his own heart weighed down by what he now felt he could have prevented. “She deserves better than being hunted down by aliens 24/7. We got her away from that shit until you dragged her back into this Freak Show. I hope you find peace in that.”

“I don’t enjoy doing what I did, but it was the right call,” Strange persisted. “You’ll see soon enough if you can deflate that ego of yours for more than two seconds…douchebag.”

“I’ll deflate mine when you deflate yours,” Tony bit back, eyes leveled with Strange who glared back at him, letting the sexual tension…I mean, just normal tension…build.

“…seven million three hundred and two possibilities-“

“AKA the amount of times you’ve granted someone’s three wishes?”

“AKA the amount of possibilities I’ve foreseen in this future war we are to have with Thanos in which only one I’ve seen us won…and in that one I saw (Y/N) wielding the Power Stone.”

“And doing what with it?” Tony asked, but Strange shook his head.

“That’s as far as my visions have taken me so far, but I plan to try and look further into the future once we end this useless banter we’re in.”

“It’s only been useless due to your lack of the fine details,” Tony retorted coldly as he finally looked up to the second floor, his patience running out entirely as he looked towards Bruce. “I have to go talk to her.”

“Are you sure? It really didn’t seem like she was in the mood for…you,” Bruce questioned nervously, but Tony brushed him off.

“Well, that needs to change,” Tony muttered, leaving out because I won’t be able to handle this chaotic situation otherwise. Not without her.

After evading the pit in the staircase, Tony found her hugging her knees next to the oversized window, chin digging into her right knee with her hand clutching her chest as her eyes and dried tears reflected the silver light outside. It was a position of defeat, of defense. She looked hollow.

Tony felt sick. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. (Y/N) was his rock, his person.

The guilt was overwhelming, and he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to fix this problem.

(Y/N)’S POV

She shouldn’t be crying. She shouldn’t be afraid of things that had already happened to her. Things she’d convinced herself that she’d gotten over. It was downright embarrassing after just been told she had to defend Earth from yet another Power Trip from space. As if she was some flawless hero-type that just lived to fight crime and have their face plastered on inspirational posters in school libraries. Like Steve. In fact, four years ago she was the one causing the crimes. Petty crimes, but still. When did this bullshit shift happen and how did she make it stop?

But after, what? Six days on no sleep and almost nothing to eat and having just been through a virtual reality game of Fucked Up Shit from My Past: Hoarder’s Edition, she’s bound to lose her mind. She couldn’t think straight, much less stand up straight. She slid her back down the wall next to her new favorite aesthetically-pleasing, melodramatic window, gulping in breaths and pinching herself to keep from passing out. Staring towards the ominous sky, she damned whatever Universal Force was tricking her into this shit.

Not that it was all about her, but she felt convinced the joke was on her, and the punchline was just around the fucking corner. She just wasn’t sure if she was ready for it this time.

She heard unsure footsteps climb the stairs after her a few minutes later, already knowing it was Tony. She knew it was useless to pull herself together. He’d seen her do worse.

Eyes still out the window, she felt Tony sit across from her, his own eyes watching her carefully.

“Are you hurt?” Tony asked after a few moments, knowing she wouldn’t answer him honestly, and instead of receiving a sarcastic response like he’d hoped, she simply pulled her hand from her chest to wrap under her knees. She hadn’t even known she’d had her hand there, holding herself together from where she was ripped apart in her nightmare. As awful as it was to discover, it had become an automatic habit for her.

Tony sighed in the wake of her silence, deciding honestly was his best way to go. It was his only to get her to open up to him in the early days of their friendship, and if it ain’t broke… “I haven’t been able to sleep,” Tony admitted, receiving only radio static as he laughed humorlessly. “As if that’s something new, I know. I know. But the reason I couldn’t sleep was because I didn’t know if you were alive…” Tony choked up, his eyes falling to his lap as (Y/N) blinked away a stray tear. Tony looked back up to her with another laugh, thinking of the cake that was sent to him, the same moment he knew she was okay. “Well, not until I received your gift, ‘you’re tacky, and I hate you.’ As always, your way with words has left me breathless, (Y/N)…but I still couldn’t sleep. There was always that voice in the back of my head and you know what it said to me? It kept telling me how wrong I was, and how right you were. That’s not an easy thing to admit, but (Y/N)…I mean it. Every word of it. Just please forgive me and when this is all over, come home. I don’t care about the Accords just come-“

“You pushed us out,” (Y/N) broke, her voice cracking with the effort. “You made us run. Made us criminals. And now, now when the Universe hangs in the fucking balance, now you apologize?” (Y/N) demanded, silencing Tony immediately. She shook her head with tears in her eyes.

“No. I decided that the moment Rhodey hit the dirt,” Tony answered darkly, his eyes trailing out the window as well in memory. “And when I woke up to find you in the snow…all I wanted was to save you…but Steve took your body before I could fix…” Slowly, Tony pulled out (Y/N)’s necklace from his pocket, the necklace he found under Steve’s broken shield after the regretful fight in Siberia that almost took her life. The sapphire pendant caught (Y/N)’s attention as it mingled with the light, casting a reflection on the window’s glass. With trembling fingers, (Y/N) caressed the silver chain from Tony’s hand, her mother’s necklace, and pressed it to her lips as her body fell into Tony’s arms that held her tight to his chest. Kissing the top of her head, he let her cry on him as she had allowed him to for so many years, quietly rocking her until her breathing became more stable.

“If you want to talk about it…” Tony whispered as (Y/N) sniffed, letting Tony support her.

“I was back under the knife…under Hydra. It was like I was a little girl again…alone and afraid. It felt like every bit of confidence I’d built up had never existed. Like I was theirs for the taking…which I guess I was. They did pay a hefty price for me,” (Y/N) joked darkly as Tony rubbed her arm, but she shook herself off, wiping her eyes. “But like I said, the Universe hangs in the balance. We don’t have time for my bullshit-“

“It’s not bullshit,” Tony interrupted, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“It is. All that happened years ago, and I’ve moved on, and…and don’t roll your eyes at me, I have,” (Y/N) smacked Tony with a laugh, both knowing they were too fucked up beyond repair. “Whatever. Besides…I have to apologize to you, too-“

“No, you-“

“Yes, I do. I fought fire with fire. I should’ve expected to get burned.”

“And apparently I shouldn’t have gone off my meds,” Tony joked.

“We all make mistakes,” (Y/N) shrugged, but was clearly still in deep pain. Tony recognized it, but also realized they were short on time and energy. “How much are you caught up on?”

“Too much, but also not nearly enough.”

“Perfect, we can work with that,” (Y/N) retorted sarcastically as she made her way towards the stairs, but Tony stopped her one last time.

“I just need to know what I’mworking with. Are you okay to handle this? Hey! No bullshit. Are you okay?” Tony asked, leveling his eyes with hers, not letting her look away from him.

“No,” (Y/N) answered candidly, not even expecting her own answer. “But I don’t really have a choice now, do I?”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Tony sighed sadly, then smiled at her. “But it does look like you’ve got your fire back,” Tony nodded as he held the amethyst locket that rested on (Y/N)’s chest in a pendant similar to Strange’s that intertwined with (Y/N)’s mother’s necklace. “Things could be worse. At least this Thanos character doesn’t have it.”

“And let’s keep it way,” (Y/N) smirked with a cock of her eyebrow, making Tony grin as they joined the new team downstairs in the foyer. Bruce paced nervously, flicking his eyes up to (Y/N) as he asked her a silent ‘are you okay’ that (Y/N) nodded to without a word as she looked towards Strange who seemed unsure of what to say, so she let him off the hook.

“I know that you didn’t mean for any of that to happen,” (Y/N) assured him. “You just caught me off guard…which isn’t an easy thing to do, so I guess a congratulations are in order, sir,” (Y/N) saluted him as he rolled his eyes, allowing some of the tension be relieved of the room. “So, Thanos. He’s coming. He’s evil. He’s probably ugly. What the hell do we do about it?”

“Botox?” Tony offered jokingly, but (Y/N) was quick.

“Maybe later. I’m waiting for my forties,” (Y/N) responded immediately making everyone laugh. “But no, seriously. From a scientific standpoint, are Steve and I even going to age? You know, because of the super soldier serum. I swear that man hasn’t earned a wrinkle since the day we first met,” (Y/N) rambled as she walked around the room in deep thought. “I mean, because I can’t wait to age. Like, I can’t wait to grow old with Steve and our highlight of the month is our weekly trip to Target, or Costco, or something. And we rent those little scooter/cart things, but not as jokes because we actually need them. But also as a joke because they’re fucking hilarious. And then we get home and eat…whatever old people eat, like vanilla wafers and pretzels all day and watch the sunset in our Tommy Bahama lawn chairs…but we don’t actually watch the sunset because we fall asleep at like four o’clock in the afternoon. And like-“

“Holy shit, (Y/N)!” Tony yelled out, trying to stop her as he leaned over a table in a chorus of laughter with Bruce, Wong, and Strange. “We get it. You’re ready to get old. Shit.”

“I know, I know. The point about Thanos, uh…damn, where is the point and why can’t I find it right now?” (Y/N) mused out loud to herself, but Bruce helped her out.

“The point is, we have these stones. We know where they are. Vision is out there somewhere with the Mind Stone and we have to find him. Now.”

“Yeah, well that’s the thing…two weeks ago, Vision turned off his transponder,” Tony answered. “He’s offline.”

“Wonder why,” (Y/N) taunted darkly, then shook her head. “No, wait. He was on your side. Seriously, why?”

“I found out about him and Wanda playing house somewhere in Scotland,” Tony groaned. “When I first designed Jarvis, I never thought he’d become so…evolved.”

“Aw! I’m so happy for them! Like a weird Bonnie and Clyde type of thing,” (Y/N) gushed. “That’s pretty fucking cute.”

“No, it’s illegal,” Tony deadpanned, but (Y/N) was still smiling.

“That’s what makes it so cute. I approve. Not that my approval matters, but she’ll get an earful when I find her.”

“Okay, is anyone going to explain to me what the hell happened here while I was gone? Like the part where you almost killed her in Siberia? Care to explain that, Tony?” Bruce shouted at Tony and (Y/N) who stared blankly at him, until Tony turned on (Y/N).

“You never told him?”

“Obviously, I told him the important bits,” (Y/N) retorted darkly, making Tony narrow his eyes at her, then she threw her arms up. “We didn’t have time! We were on a mission to kill Thor’s sister in space! We had bigger fish to fry than trying to explain Ant Man. Plus, I got distracted by Valkryie.”

“Who the hell is Valkyrie?” Tony exclaimed at (Y/N) who shot right back.

“Look, all I’m gonna say is that once I saw her fight, I wasn’t sure I was straight anymore.”

“Were you that sure to begin with?”

“Not since Rihanna, no, but I feel like we’re getting off topic again.”

“You don’t say?” Strange spoke up sarcastically, rubbing his temples. “Is this how your team always functions?”

“No, but it’s how we always dysfunction,” (Y/N) smirked as Bruce put his face in his hands.

“You have no idea what I’ve been through over the years,” Bruce moaned as Tony tried to high five (Y/N), but she walked right past him, suddenly becoming very stoic which killed the vibe of the room. “But for the past two years, I haven’t been here so…fill me in.”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Tony asked, and Bruce hesitated, but nodded anyway. Tony launched into the Sokovia Accords and what went down in Lagos, Berlin, in the airport, in Siberia, going into detail where he could, but brushing over the pieces that still weren’t resolved. (Y/N) chimed in for certain pieces, but remained quiet for most of the explanation, instead curiously roaming the room looking at the strange artifacts from who even knew where? Strange and Wong began to tell a bit of their own story with Dormammu, providing context for who everyone was becoming allies with until Tony mentioned becoming a father. The sound of metal pinging the ground interrupted the conversation where everyone looked to the back corner of the room to find a very sheepish looking (Y/N). Playing it cool, she “inconspicuously” walked over to a large planter where she tossed a small piece of whatever she broke inside, whistling towards the ceiling as she wrapped her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels.

“Oh, hey guys!” (Y/N) laughed nervously as she noticed them all staring. “I was just…looking at the artifacts-“

“Priceless artifacts,” Strange interjected, making (Y/N) even more sheepish.

“Yeah…yeah, those priceless…artifacts…” (Y/N) coughed awkwardly, then went back to the same desk to look inside the drawer past the knob she just broke.

“(Y/N)!” Bruce chastised her as he shook his head, walking over to grab her by the arm.

“What, it’s already broken?” (Y/N) complained in a situation that reminded Tony heavily of the good old days back in Stark Tower. It was frustrating to know that things might never go back to the way they were. He choked back a tear, keeping his face neutral as he snorted at her.

“That doesn’t mean breaking it more is the solution, punk,” Tony teased her.

“Yeah, but I want to see what’s inside! I want to be over there!“ (Y/N) yelled just as a vortex of black rimmed in purple light swallowed (Y/N) into the ground, making her appear a few terrifying seconds later over by the desk. Clearly, everyone was shook. Even Wong looked shook.

“…but I was…and now I’m…” (Y/N) muttered numbly, pointing from Bruce to where she was, then narrowed her eyes at Strange and Wong. “Alright, which one of you fuckers did it?” Strange and Wong just shook their heads in awe. “No? Neither of you decided to add this to your magic show?”

“(Y/N)…I think that was the stone,” Bruce pointed out, making (Y/N) look down to the after-glow of the Power Stone that was now settling on her chest again. With a smirk, (Y/N) lifted her chin high to address the men as she princess waved at them, blowing them sarcastic kisses. “Thank you, thank you! I’ve officially surpassed all of you peasants with my greatness. You’re welcome for allowing you all to witness my upgrade. Excuse me while I single-handedly go take down Thanos,” (Y/N) joked as she made her way towards the door, but Bruce took her by the arm again.

“Not just yet,” Bruce laughed. “We still need to find Vision.”

“Well, who could find him?” Strange asked.

“…shit…probably Steve Rogers,” Tony replied, looking up to (Y/N) as Strange just about lost it.

“Funny thing is, he was already here,” (Y/N) sighed, making Tony cock his head. “Yeah, that’s probably why Doctor Fancycape over there is losing his shit. Him, Sam, Scott, and I came here to escape, well…you,” (Y/N) choked as Tony looked at the floor in guilt. “I told you, you and your government friends made us run pretty far.”

“I never meant for things to get so…complicated,” Tony shook his head.

“Yeah, Tony. Turns out life is complicated. I know, I’m surprised too,” (Y/N) retorted, quickly turning the dark conversation light. “But, not like in a good way. Like a, surprise! Happy birthday kind of way, but more of a, surprise! Your dog is dead, kind of way.”

“You learn something new every day,” Tony responded with a half-smile that didn’t really reach his eyes. “But still, it’s not that easy. Cap and I fell out hard. We’re still not on speaking terms.”

“Tony, listen to me,” Bruce cautioned as he approached Tony. “Thor’s gone. Thanos is coming. It doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, or not.”

“He’s right, Tony,” (Y/N) chimed in, then shrugged. “Besides, you already have half the power couple. What’s one more?”

“A whole power couple?” Tony teased her.

“Hmm, math. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, not exactly the kind of math that I want to be doing. You, I can handle, but Spangles?” Tony scratched the back of his neck. “I almost caused the end for not one, but two of my best friend’s lives, and one of those happened to be his alter-ego. Couldn’t be more different than him, yet more perfect…”

“Is that the speech you’re gonna give at our wedding? Because it sucks,” (Y/N) deadpanned.

“Would you just let me…” Tony groaning, running a hand over his face as (Y/N) took a step back. “I just don’t know if I can face him after everything…” Tony let the statement hang in the air.

“Do you have a way to contact Rogers, or not?” Strange asked. “Because I can’t seem to find him in any of the portals I cast. I can try a locating spell, but those will take a few days to-“

“Don’t bother,” Tony interrupted as he sighed. After a moment of hesitation, he slipped the flip phone Steve sent him from his pocket. (Y/N) just stared at the little silver piece of the 90’s and gawked, concealing the moment she almost dropped her jaw by clearing her throat.

“First of all, I refuse to get sentimental about that,” (Y/N) stated into the silent room, making Tony smile at her awkwardness as she swallowed. “I can’t believe you still have that.”

“It was the only way to contact you and Steve…of course I still have it,” Tony admitted.

“Stop it, alright?” (Y/N) choked out, not masking her emotions as well as she would have liked which made Tony’s heart inflate with hope. “Or else I might actually forgive you. Which, then I would never forgive myself for being a pushover, which I’m not.”

“No, you’re not,” Tony agreed as they held each other’s eyes. (Y/N) rolled them to break the contact, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Well? You gonna call him, or not?”

Tony dropped his smile immediately, scrunching her eyebrows down at the phone as he opened up the only contact programmed into the device. The name projected from the screen like a voice demanding to be called. He’d wanted to call for months now, but…but the time never felt right. He always felt like even if he were to call, that he wouldn’t know what to say. He knew he wanted to apologize to (Y/N), but it wasn’t her phone. This was Steve. Completely different story. And he knew for a fact that Steve would always answer, but it wasn’t really him that he wanted to talk to. He did, but it was always-

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” (Y/N) yelled impatiently as she tried to grab the phone from Tony’s grasp, but instead the device clattered to ground at their feet where they both dove for it.

“(Y/N)! Why do you keep breaking things?” Tony shouted at her as they fought for control.

“Are you kidding me? This thing is more indestructible than your suits!”

“As upset as that makes me, you’re probably right,” Tony shrugged, but still held fast.

“Didn’t we just discuss how I’m always right?”

“Not always, just more often than I thought!”

“Well, I’m not wrong about this!” (Y/N) groaned as she froze Tony’s hand a bit in a little sting to make him let go. With a huff, (Y/N) smirked. “Let’s test this shall we?” (Y/N) taunted as she prepared to stupidly throw the phone at the wall just to prove Tony wrong, but Bruce stole it from her instead, holding it just out of her reach as Tony was still hanging on her shoulder, reaching for the device. “Hey!” (Y/N) called at Bruce, but he ignored her and went in to call Steve himself.

Suddenly, the air shifted. A dull hum droned above everyone’s heads from the hole in the ceiling where Bruce came crashing to Earth. (Y/N) followed Tony’s gaze to look at Strange who’s fringe was twitching with the pulsating energy that tugged at everyone’s guts like the push and pull of the ocean tides.

“Say, Doc. You wouldn’t happen to be moving your hair, now would you?” Tony asked Strange who watched his own wisp of hair dance ominously on his forehead.

“Not at the moment, no,” Strange answered as Tony and (Y/N) looked at each other, confirming each other’s suspicions that something was about to happen with the fear in their eyes. Tony squeezed (Y/N)’s shoulder to assure her as best he could as she began to walk towards the door, looking through the window to catch a glimpse of people rushing the streets in pure terror.

“All I have to say is, they messed with the wrong bitch at the wrong time,” (Y/N) snarled as she shoved her way out into the streets, her hair getting swept up by the whirlwind that gusted through the canyon made by the towering buildings on each side of the street. The sky was barely visible through the ash and dust that was a low-hanging smog that made the city feel more and more unbearably claustrophobic by the second. Car horns were honking as traffic became a stand-still, people abandoning their vehicles to escape whatever was in the skies behind them, their terrified expressions peering over their shoulders like a horror movie come to life. (Y/N) heard her team attempting to help people on the streets, but she was determined to see what she was up against. She marched into the middle of the road, becoming mesmerized by the hollow spaceship that hovered above the smoke and grime like a Death Star donut. Struck by the ship, (Y/N) failed to notice the car hood that would’ve sliced her own head off had Tony not tackled her to the ground, cradling her head in his arms as they went down.

Breaking from her trance, she looked up to Tony who looked just as relieved as she felt.

“Suddenly, I’m overcome with the feeling to forgive you,” (Y/N) breathed out as Tony pulled her to her feet, each steadying the other.

“Then don’t do something stupid like that, and I won’t have to save you again,” Tony quipped, making (Y/N) push him off of her as they both ran around the street corner to where the ship was hovering over the dead-stop traffic like an apocalyptic wasteland where the dust storm was worse than ever. Strange stood beside (Y/N), gathering his magic to wisp aside most of the smog, but the view wasn’t much better in the clear, finally getting the full frontal of the spaceship in all it’s petrifying glory. “Friday! Evac anyone south of 43^rdStreet! Notify first responders!” Tony called to Friday, but (Y/N) stepped out in front of him with her hands pulsating in a purple glow that sent chills through his body.

“Don’t bother,” (Y/N) growled lowly to Tony and Strange, cracking her neck as her eyes glared daggers at the ship, the stone beginning to levitate off her chest. “They either find their way home, or they find themselves in a body bag. No more than ten blocks out, or they’re dead. No more negotiations,” (Y/N) asserted as she gritted her teeth, paving the way through the ruble towards the electric beam of blue light about a mile down the street, the light in her eyes demanding a war to not just be fought, but to be won.

Taglist: @shannonr2003 @briannabloom @ever-so-slightly-below-average

**Let me know if you want to be on the taglist (and yes, I will actually keep it up to date this time). If you have any questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to let me know by messaging me and I hope you all have a wonderful week, fellow heathens xx

jason-todds:Oh my god, you’re a Valkyrie. Valkyrie is my kink

Fri, 15 Jun 2018 15:02:43 -0400

jason-todds:

Oh my god, you’re a Valkyrie.

Valkyrie is my kink

Chapter 1: The Orb {Avengers x Fem!Reader}

Sat, 09 Jun 2018 18:43:20 -0400

~Part 7~ The Life of an Avenger- Destiny Arrives

Summary: After the Ravengers, including the reader, defeated Hela on Asgard, they escaped in a ship that they were hoping would eventually take them…literally anywhere that wasn’t going to try and kill them. That is until Loki stepped in, once again, to manipulate the situation and now the reader must decide what to use her gift from him for, if at all.

Word Count: 6138

Warnings: **INFINITY WAR SPOILERS** dark shit, graphic content, and swearing (becuase I’m angsty trash like that)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N) awoke in a cold sweat, heaving breaths levitating her chest unevenly as her eyes scrambled for perception, ready to fight the first thing that moved. But it was too late. “Goddammit!” (Y/N) howled in horror. What had Loki done?

She thought of the screaming Asgardians she had left behind on the ship. She had never found out what they were screaming for. She thought of Thor, Val, Heimdall…Bruce…oh, fuck. She’d left Bruce in fucking space. “Shit, shit, shit…” (Y/N) mumbled as she ran her hands through her hair, halting mid-panic attack with her fingers still entangled in her tresses as she took her first real look at where Loki had sent her. At first, she thought that she might still be in a broom closet somewhere on the ship, but it was too warm and far too quiet. Hesitantly turning the ornate doorknob, she slowly peered into the empty room…in the same building that she had started this entire mess in: the New York Sanctum.

Disbelief.

That’s definitely not what she had expected, or even trusted. This must be a mirage of some sort. She must still be dreaming, right? With careful steps, (Y/N) lithely floated down the dark hallway full of antiques that came from, not only a distant time, but a distant world. She curiously wandered past a large grandfather clock with no hands, reminding her of the song “Nine in the Afternoon.” Still in a dreamlike haze, she carefully climbed the grand staircase towards the round, oversized window that filtered in cloudy gray light like a magnet for the sun. Brushing her hand across the metallic banister, she pulled herself towards the frosted glass to witness the bustling city below that she wanted to still call home. An irritated business man howled into his phone while passing a teenager who slumped down the same street with earphones plugged into her head, while two cars had an all-out honking war over the same parallel parking spot, while a pack of pigeons attacked a stranded hot dog bun, while…while everything happened. While the world existed right in front of her, yet she stared at the window like a television screen. Like what she was seeing was a recording from a far-off place where she had once belonged, but now…

“Shocking, isn’t it?” A familiar, deep voice commented behind her, his understanding resonating in a cautious undertone. “How do you feel?” Without turning her head, (Y/N) responded in a distant voice, still mesmerized by Earth.

“Disconnected,” (Y/N) whispered without thought. “He’s not here, is he?”

“…no,” Strange answered after a pause, taking a sad breath. (Y/N)’s eyes closed at his response. She had been half-hoping her instincts were wrong and that Steve was still close, but she would have known. “No, after the portal’s connection was cut off and Wilson was spit back out, they had waited. Captain Rogers wanted to stay, but…but he got an urgent call from Ms. Romanoff. I told him it was doubtful that you would return here…but, uh…that doesn’t seem to be the case, I guess. I wish I could tell you where they are now.”

“How long has it been?” (Y/N) asked, bracing herself for the answer.

“Almost six days since you went through the portal,” Strange answered. (Y/N) winced at that response as well. At least it wasn’t the painstaking years she felt she had gone through on Sakaar, but still…a lot can happen in six days when your boyfriend and best friends are pretty much all fugitives. Plus, now those painstaking years meant absolutely nothing, except for the last week after she met Valkyrie. What a fucking waste.

“Six days,” (Y/N) echoed in frustrated awe. “I could’ve done so much in that time. Could’ve learned a new language, or backpacked across Thailand, or thrown a tampon on-stage at a Justin Bieber concert. Literally anything. But instead, I helped to kill Thor’s devil sister in Asgard before the place blew up like my toilet after a bender. The things you do for friendship,” (Y/N) muttered, bitterly rolling her eyes at the sky.

Before she could continue, she heard a belly full of laughter from someone that definitely wasn’t the stone-faced wizard she knew. (Y/N) finally turned her head to see another man dressed in flamboyant clothing similar to Strange, his face seized up with laughter as he wiped the tears from his puffy eyes.

“Um…” (Y/N) questioned, pointing between Strange and her new audience member as he smirked and patted his hand on the heavyset man’s shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, right. (Y/N), Wong. Wong, the Winter Goddess, savior of Earth,” Strange introduced as (Y/N) nodded to Wong.

“Guessing you’re a wizard too, then?” (Y/N) teased as she began her descent down the staircase towards the men.

“If that’s what you call a protector of this dimension, then yes,” Wong bowed his head proudly as (Y/N) gave him a thumbs up. The moment he looked back up at her, he sighed. “Wow, you really are as pretty as Captain Rogers said.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and looked the man up and down, making him increasingly nervous. Before he could apologize, she leaned against the railing, pointing at him with appreciation. “I like you, Wong.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief as Strange leaned over to Wong.

“She’s also as deadly as he said,” Strange warned, making (Y/N) smile.

“There’s a reason I’m marrying that man,” (Y/N) mused to herself as she tried to walk between the two men, but Strange stood in her way with crossed arms.

“And, where are you going?” Strange asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“To find Steve. Can’t really marry him, if I can’t find him, you know?” (Y/N) answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and to her, it was. Strange didn’t seem so moved, grabbing her wrist to spin her around as she tried to pass him again, leveling his observant eyes with hers.

“I know you have the Orb,” Strange accused, sending (Y/N)’s heartrate into a frenzy. The stone. How the fuck could she had forgotten about that? In a haste, (Y/N) patted her pockets for the Orb to find it tucked away in her thigh holster.

Relaxing, she smirked up to Strange. “What Orb?” she answered confidently. Strange let out a humorless huff with a look to Wong, then back to (Y/N).

“Don’t tell me you really think you can lie to me?” Strange asserted, raising (Y/N)’s wrist in his grasp, shaky fingers tapping her veins.

“Just did,” (Y/N) mocked, stealing her wrist back as she pushed her way between them towards the regal front door. “It was a real adrenaline rush.”

“We had a deal!” Strange called after her, referring to the deal he had made between himself, (Y/N), and Steve that if they were to come across the Orb, Strange would be the first one they contacted to reconnect (Y/N) with it for reasons that were never really explained. But, (Y/N) just shook her head.

“Maybe, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment yet,” (Y/N) joked, walking backwards with her shoulders shrugged. “Maybe, the stone and I can go to marriage counseling later when things are a bit more convenient, but until then…I gotta go, Penn & Teller. Break a leg during your performance, boys,” (Y/N) winked at them before turning back around to reach for the doorknob but was stopped by the sudden appearance of a golden sigil that blocked her exit. “So, this is how it’s gonna be, then?” (Y/N) groaned in annoyance, poking the magic that bounced back at her like a rubber band.

“You haven’t really given us much of a choice,” Strange argued, cracking his neck in preparation for whatever was about to happen.

“I’m not going to fight you,” (Y/N) sighed, facing the defensive wizards. “Mostly, because you don’t have a chance, but also…yeah, feel free to take offense,” (Y/N) pointed at Wong again who looked a bit crestfallen. “But also, I thought I was a welcomed guest? When did that change?”

“You are welcomed as a guest…to stay,” Wong explained slowly. “But not to leave.”

“That’s not a guest, that’s a prisoner,” (Y/N) snapped. “Or, do you need me to pull a dictionary from somewhere in this wizard’s lair to prove that to you?”

“You still don’t realize how important you are, do you?” Strange inquired as (Y/N) threw his arms in the air in defeat.

“Important for what?” (Y/N) yelled. “Why do you care so much? It’s not like another alien army is coming to piss on New York,” (Y/N) half-joked, her eyes widening in shock after Strange and Wong shared a knowing look. “Unless there is…you’ve gotta be shitting me! Holy fuck, what do you know? Who are they? What do they look like? Ugly? I’m guessing ugly, they always are-”

“All you need to know is that you must protect the stone,” Strange interrupted.

“Was already planning on doing that, Houdini,” (Y/N) mocked, giving Strange pause. (Y/N) sighed. “Just because I don’t want it, doesn’t mean that I trust anyone else with it…” (Y/N) admitted to her own surprise, letting her admission hang in the air. Strange gave a nod of approval, calmly lowering his hands without magic to submit his surrender.

“I don’t trust anyone else with it either,” Strange agreed. “All I need from you is your trust in me. I can help you, if you’ll let me.”

“And how the hell would you help me? Do all your party tricks include the use of an infinity stone?” (Y/N) teased defensively, still searching for a way to escape. “Hope you get tipped extra for that.”

Strange laughed quietly as he shook his head at (Y/N)’s indignation. “How your team has put up with you for this long is beyond me.”

“A lot of alcohol, I’ll tell you that much,” (Y/N) shot back, watching Strange closely as his fingers wrapped carefully around a large, antique necklace he was wearing. “What’s that?” (Y/N) asked, finally giving way to her curiosity.

“The answer to your question,” Strange responded smugly. “How do I know how to deal with an infinity stone?” Strange posited as he made some kind of witchy, voodoo hand motions that signaled the opening of the large locket that revealed an emerald stone casting a green glow in his eyes. “Probably because I’ve had a bit of experience. Really, it’s not a big deal having the ultimate power over time. I’m just honored to have been chosen for such a monumental task-”

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point!” (Y/N) burst, making Strange laugh again. “Your modesty is over-fucking-whelming. So, alright, you know what you’re doing…probably. It still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want the stone, you know, inside of me yet. It’s risky, but what else is new?”

“Well, if you’d let me finish,” Strange huffed, “I’d tell you that there’s a way to do that without surgery.”

“What? You’re gonna align my chakras?” (Y/N) bit back without hesitation.

“Despite the sarcasm, you’re very close,” Strange admitted, surprising (Y/N) as she looked over at Wong to see him nodding to her. “Take a seat, (Y/N), so we can discuss this properly,” Strange motioned for her to sit as the room faded away to become a new, more inviting atmosphere still within the Sanctum, and a chair was replaced beneath her ass. A fire crackled in the corner as (Y/N) felt heat pressed against her fingertips. Taking a peek inside the mug, her nose was met with the homely aroma of caramel and espresso, just what she had wanted.

“Impressive,” (Y/N) stated with her eyebrow cocked, coffee mug raised.

“Necessary. Your mind was practically begging for it,” Strange answered with a smirk as she took a sip. “Better?”

“Marginally,” (Y/N) responded, placing the mug on the table next to her to fold her arms across her chest as she got herself comfortable. “So, what’s all this about chakra aligning? You’ve semi-peaked my interest. Tell me more.”

“Just so we’re clear, I am not entirely on board with this idea,” Wong admitted, throwing Strange a shady look. “But I have faith in my friend and his gift for the mystic arts. I just hope the power hasn’t gone to his head.”

“It does seem like that would happen,” (Y/N) taunted snidely.

“Believe me, I have stories,” Wong whispered to her as he laughed.

Strange rolled his eyes. “So glad you’ve both found this situation amusing, but you can’t hide from this forever, (Y/N). A choice has to be made, and I need you to make the right one.”

“Then, lay it on me. I’m open to listen,” (Y/N) smiled, crossing her legs on the coffee table in front of her. She quickly found both men to be worthy allies. She couldn’t find any malice behind their intentions, even as Strange explained his methods that included drawing energy from the Dark Dimension.

“Is that the name of your sex tape?” (Y/N) asked immediately, sending Wong into a fit that even cracked a smile on Strange’s face.

“Oh, I wouldn’t need a name for my sex tape,” Strange boasted. “It would speak for itself.”

“Spoken as a true narcissist,” (Y/N) shook her head, thinking of Tony’s vulgar arrogance. “You really do remind me of someone. It’s un-fucking-canny.”

“Do you just throw the f-word in the middle of any word, or…? Because I think you might be writing your own dictionary at the moment,” Strange commented, making (Y/N) laugh, which surprised her. She looked between the two men and sighed, scrunching her nose at them.

“You’re so lucky I believe in the merits of meditation,” (Y/N) conceded.

“Does that mean you’re going through with the spell?” Strange asked, excitement popping from the dimples in his cheeks as he began to lean forward out of his chair.

“Not a chance in hell!” (Y/N) burst out laughing while Strange’s and Wong’s faces dropped, their jaws simultaneously hitting the floor as Strange fell back into his chair. Taking a final swig from her mug, (Y/N) stood from her chair with a stretch and a sigh. “But, it’s been really great catching up with both of you. Really, I’m charmed, but I have more pressing matters to tend to…like sleep.”

“Hey, wait!” Strange yelled, walking over to block her path. “I just explained exactly how this spell will work. I told you things that I’m probably not allowed to tell you, but it doesn’t matter. None of it will matter unless you are the one to protect the stone.”

“Oh, I’m not opposed to any of that,” (Y/N) shrugged, confusing Strange. “As of right now, I’m fully informed on how this could go down, but what I need to know is why I would want all of this to happen right here, right now,” (Y/N) explained. “I mean, what the hell is so urgent that I need to do this today? I need to know whatever you know. None of this cryptic, Harry Potter Chosen One shit. I can’t run headfirst into the dark without a flashlight.”

Just before Strange was about to answer, thunder pierced the ceiling of the Sanctum, raining debris from the destruction caused by a holographic tunnel of light that disappeared as soon as it appeared, leaving only the final cracks of wood on the staircase and the moans of someone in deep pain.

Before the sound even hit the building, all three heroes had their senses peeked, jumping into action the moment the meteor struck, defenses up and ready for a fight. Climbing the remnants of the staircase, they stared down into the crater made by the light and saw Bruce Banner shrouded by a cloud of dust, coughing and wheezing as his eyes frantically searched the ceiling to find the trio ready for war. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“Why didn’t I get this kind of grand entrance?” (Y/N) joked to the two confused wizards as she descended into the hole to help Bruce, extending her hand to him. “Hey, you okay?” She asked as he stood, pulling (Y/N) into an embrace.

“Thanos…” Bruce croaked into her ear, his voice cracking in pain as he pulled back to look into her eyes, curiosity and worry tugging at her furrowed brows. “Thanos is coming!” Bruce warned more clearly to Strange and Wong, then he turned back to (Y/N) with more urge as he shook her shoulders. “He’s coming.”

“I, uh…” (Y/N) stuttered, trying to find words as she looked towards Strange. “Is this the ‘why’ you wouldn’t tell me about?” She accused Strange who nodded to her as Wong’s magic sigils flickered out.

“I suppose there’s nothing holding back the truth now,” Strange acquiesced.

“There wasn’t anything to begin with!” (Y/N) yelled, throwing him a look as she shook her head and turned back to Bruce. “Let’s talk more about this somewhere that’s not falling apart…and maybe, get us both a shower.”

“That’d be nice,” Bruce agreed as Strange and Wong helped the two out of the crater, Bruce’s arm still around (Y/N)’s shoulders as she propped him up and led him to a chair that Strange manipulated. Immediately, Bruce launched into a play by play (to the best of his memory) of what went down on the ship after he thinks (Y/N) went missing. “Thanos. He’s…he’s a plague, (Y/N). He invades planets. He takes what he wants. He wipes out half the population. He sent Loki. The attack on New York. That’s him.”

(Y/N) laughed humorlessly. “So, this Thanos motherfucker is the ultimate, then? Goddamn…remember when we thought Loki was the worst? That was cute. Downright adorable…” (Y/N) trailed off bitterly.

“Is he not still the worst?” Bruce questioned, finding comfort in finally being able to sit down. “Did I miss something?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” (Y/N) pondered. “I think he tried to protect me by sending me here.”

“So, Loki sent you?” Bruce asked. “Heimdall told me you were safe, but…it was Loki?”

“I mean, as far as I know,” (Y/N) shrugged. “But…you were saying about Thanos. What does he want?”

“He wants what we already have,” Strange interjected, reminding (Y/N) of the heavy weight pressing against her thigh as he showed Bruce the Time Stone.

“Loki’s gift,” (Y/N) whispered as she pulled the stone from her holster, allowing it’s glow to shower the room until it faded in her hand. Bruce charged her immediately, attempting to take it from her hand.

“We have to get rid of that,” Bruce demanded, but (Y/N) tucked it away in her pocket. “If he doesn’t have all six stones, then he can’t win, and (Y/N)…he’ll kill anyone who gets in his way. There’s no hiding it. We have to destroy it-”

“I can’t,” (Y/N) asserted, silencing the room. “Loki gave me this for a reason. Maybe he knows something that we don’t. He worked with Thanos before…was controlled by him…he knows him better than any of us, and he told me to protect the stone.”

“It’s Loki!” Bruce exclaimed in disbelief. “How could you trust him? For all we know, he’s been working with Thanos this whole time!”

“Well, Loki’s not the only one who thinks that I should,” (Y/N) confessed, cocking her eyebrow at Strange.

“No, no, no,” Bruce argued before Strange could even begin, pointing his finger at the sorcerer. “Don’t you dare try to put any of these ideas into her head! She’s already prone to life-threatening situations, and this-”

“Has to happen,” Strange interjected. “Wong and I swore an oath to protect the Time Stone, and (Y/N) has to protect the Power Stone. It’s the only way.”

“No!” Bruce denied, pacing back and forth in front of (Y/N). “No…I saw Thanos. I fought him…you don’t understand, he’s not like anything we’ve ever fought before. Ultron was child’s play compared to this.”

“Maybe because you and Tony programmed him to go out like a little bitch.”

“Tony!” Bruce shouted, unphased by (Y/N)’s dig. “Tony, we have to talk to him, or Steve, or Nat…” Bruce persuaded, but (Y/N) was unmoved.

“I already told you Bruce. We’re not the Avengers anymore, we’re on our own now,” (Y/N) sighed, but Bruce laughed in shock.

“Half the world hangs in the balance, and you’re willing to give all that up because of a stupid fight you had?” Bruce pointed out, making (Y/N) feel guilty. He was completely right, and she had already known that. But the thought of seeing Tony again tied knots in the pit of her stomach.

“If you want to talk to him, then you go find him,” (Y/N) relinquished with a huff, then peered up at Strange. “But I’m a bit busy at the moment. Apparently, I have some destiny to satisfy.” Strange smirked to her as she rolled her eyes.

“What are you…what are you planning on doing with it?” Bruce panicked.

“Don’t worry about it-”

“(Y/N), all I do is worry these days, and you not telling me isn’t helping,” Bruce yelled back, a little green peeking out under his collar.

“God,” (Y/N) moaned, rubbing her temples. “We’re all gonna die young being this stressed all the time. Look, if Thanos is as hell-bent on his plan as you say he is, then what’s to say that destroying the stones won’t just be a minor setback? It sounds like the only way to stop him would be to kill him, and if that’s the case, then we might want to suit up with the best weapons we have.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m not going to be helpless, Bruce!” (Y/N) snapped, cutting him off. “If I can be the one to kill him, then I will. And that’s a goddamn promise.” She shouted, her voice cracking as tears filled her eyes, and that’s when Bruce realized she wasn’t talking about Thanos. Gently, Bruce put his hand on her shoulder.

“This isn’t Hydra,” Bruce proclaimed calmly, finding her determined eyes. She had told him everything about what Hydra did to her when they shoved a piece of the Orb in her chest in the first place. He knew the pain she went through, but now wasn’t the time for her insecurities to come through. “You don’t have to prove anything. Destroying the stone would be the smartest thing to do.”

“Is it, though?” (Y/N) croaked, pulling herself away from Bruce to stand beside Strange and Wong. “I guess we’ll see soon enough.”

“Come on, (Y/N). You know better than this,” Bruce pleaded, but she’d made her choice.

“I know what I feel, and this feels right. I’ve been right about a lot more things than I think I’m given credit for, so it’s about time I went with where my mind wants me to go,” (Y/N) declared turning to the sorcerers. “Let’s do this.”

Strange nodded as he smashed into his hands into the air as if to shatter an invisible mirror that fractured the space’s molecules into fragments of reality. It was a beautiful art to witness.

“Shall we?” Strange coaxed as he motioned (Y/N) into the portal that she couldn’t keep her eyes off of, fascinated by the reflective colors in the nonexistent glass that sparkled like diamonds in the daylight.

“I hope you’re right about this!” Bruce called out to her, but she kept her head down and ignored him.

“Me too,” she muttered as the portal closed behind her, leaving only her and Strange in the silent foyer of the Sanctum. She turned to see Bruce and Wong behind her, but neither of them could see or hear her any longer, despite Bruce’s efforts. The only difference in the room was the amethyst light that flowed in from all windows of the room and the random fragments in the space around them. “So, this is the Mirror Dimension? Very Room of Requirement-y.”

“If all you’re going to do is make Harry Potter references-”

“Okay, I’ll stop…for now…” (Y/N) smirked cheekily, making Strange sigh.

“Please, take a seat,” Strange commanded as he sat down in the center of the room and (Y/N) followed suit to sit right in front of him, both crossing their legs as if they were about to start a yoga class. “So, you know the mechanics behind what we’re about to do, all I need from you is to do exactly what I say.”

(Y/N) made a face, then laughed. “Sorry, force of habit. Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“Good, because I don’t want to deal with the consequences if something happened to you,” Strange complained. “Your friends are very…protective.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” (Y/N) huffed, but secretly allowed herself a small smile. “And you’re right. You wouldn’t like to know either.”

“Perfect. So, let’s make sure you don’t fall into the wrong reality and get lost forever in space. I’m sure it’s happened before, but not today. Ready?”

“Well, after that pitch…of course I am,” (Y/N) affirmed sarcastically as Strange folded his hands together and told her to close her eyes and breathe. The first few minutes were just like any guided meditation class. Mentions of good intentions and staying focused on her breath and allowing her mind to relax, until Strange asked her to give him the stone. (Y/N)’s eyes shot open and the spell that surrounded them dissolved, making Strange groan.

“Oh, come on!” Strange sighed. “Obviously, I need the stone to make the spell work. We went over this!”

“I know, I know,” (Y/N) huffed, shaking her head. “It’s just…you know, you’re putting a lot of pressure on someone who still forgets to change the oil in her car every six months,” she admitted, blowing the wisps of baby hair from her face in frustration.

“Three months,” Strange corrected her, making (Y/N)’s eyes grow even wider.

“Shit…Steve’s gonna kill me,” (Y/N) whispered as Strange let out an exasperated moan and rubbed his temples. It took every ounce of strength in her to pull that stone out of her pocket. Simultaneously, it felt like the most right thing, but also the absolute worst thing she could do…because that made sense. Either way, Strange perked up immediately, embracing the stone in his hand that he weighed with a skeptical crease between his brows. “What?” (Y/N) asked, worried that something was wrong, but Strange waved her off.

“I’m not an expert on Infinity Stones, as much as I would like to claim, but uh…I don’t think this is the whole stone,” Strange guessed as (Y/N) froze. “Maybe only half, I’m not…certain…are you okay?”

“That greasy, sleeze ball scammed me!” (Y/N) shouted. “And just when I thought he might’ve done something right for once-”

“He did,” Strange argued, holding up the stone. “It’s still an Infinity Stone, and it will still give you the power you need, so pull yourself together, and let’s start this over again, alright?”

(Y/N) just glared at the ceiling. “Selling me a dud…I’ll show him…” she muttered as she roughly shifted back into her yoga pose and Strange began his calming mantra once again. His hands caressed hers gently, pressing the stone into the palms of her hands as he continued to drone in a soothing voice that lulled (Y/N) into a state of peace that was spreading warmth through her body.

Simple. Easy. Sleepy. Really sleepy. Passing out…good-fucking-nigh….t….

“Wake.”

She felt the chill of the table before the burn of the serum. And she felt the straps ripping her bare skin over large sections of her body before she even opened her eyes. And she recognized his voice before she even saw his face.

“Keep squirming. Because that’s treated you so well, 437,” Doctor 7 (she numbered them in her head) spit in her ear in Romanian, automatically springing tears from her eyes just at the sound of his tongue so close to her skin as he licked his lips, herself not ready for her worst fear to come back and in a way that was so disturbingly real. This couldn’t be real…but she could smell the familiar mints he used to seduce the nurses who wanted nothing to do with him, so he took his rejection anger out on his patients instead. “One of these days you’ll admit this turns you on, maybe then I’ll take you home with me,” he moaned hungrily under his breath that made (Y/N) want to vomit, but she knew that they might just let her choke and die on the table…or at least almost choke, then tip her over at the last second just to see how long she could last…like the first time she tried.

Her voice caught in her throat, only coming out in a sharp whimper that caused Doctor 7 to grin as he continued to prep his table of surgical equipment, cleaning the blades with disinfectant that incinerated (Y/N)’s nose and made it that much more difficult to breath as she started to hyperventilate. If she had had time to shut her body and mind down to absolve her pain, she would have, but her surprise was damning, and Doctor 7 knew that as his fingertips scraped her skin to drag the thin sheeting away from her chest to expose the last bit of dignity she had left. Burying the marker where her heart was, he sketched the all-too-familiar outline of where he planned to cut out her insides just to watch her bleed…for science. He knew what he was doing, but (Y/N) never doubted the sadism behind his eyes, no matter the crucial medical knowledge he claimed to the Hydra higher-ups that he had.

Wincing away from his scarred face, (Y/N)’s eyes scrambled for something, anything to be weaponized and bury into his skull, but she was hopelessly alone, feeling the apathetic eyes behind the two-way glass that bared down on her like cement crushing a weed in the dirt.

Once the marker left her skin, (Y/N) knew what was to replace it, and became animalistic, clawing at the table to only get lead buried under her broken, bloodied fingertips as her teeth tried to sink into her restraints, but the doctor shoved her head into the table with a crunch that (Y/N) heard ricochet in her head with the splintering of bone. Dazed, the ceiling swam in and out of focus until light pierced her brain like a dozen explosions bursting behind her eyes, but she couldn’t escape its perversion that left her body vulnerable to his hands.

“Patient 437 prepped. Permission to proceed with Experiment 19-124?” the Doctor requested with his hands fastened behind his back, body at attention for the eyes behind the glass.

“Proceed,” a woman’s voice allowed, no inflection in her voice despite the order she just commanded for a 12-year-old girl to be sliced open.

With the Hydra salute, the doctor fitted his mask to his face and snapped his gloves into place in (Y/N) left ear, leaving it ringing as the only noise that filled the room afterwards was the beeping of the machines she was tied to and the scrape of metal on metal as his fingers wrapped around his instruments.

(Y/N) could feel her heart pound harder than ever, beginning to strain in uneven beats that left her gasping for air, sweat trickling down her temples and into her eyes that she tried to blink away, but she was helpless. Her entire body was on fire, the flames surrounding her heart and squeezing it as if to stop it from beating as a mercy killing. Every muscle was tense against the restraints, bruising her skin in the most gruesome ways, but her adrenaline was murderous and unrelenting, until…until the blade sunk into her skin and her whole body went cold. Freezing cold. A statue she became as she froze, feeling every icy stroke of the scalpel slice her skin. If she moved, she was dead. She knew that. The cease of her breath only caused her heart to beat faster, but it was instinct.

She felt the scalpel lift from her chest and felt a rubber-clad hand pat her arm.

“Now that’s a good girl,” the Doctor cooed down at her, a smile crinkling the skin around his eyes. Only (Y/N)’s eyes moved towards his face in a glare, the hatred in them so pure it would’ve terrified the doctor if he hadn’t been so used to it. “If only all the patients could be as helpful as you are to the cause. It would make my job a hell of a lot easier. You’re going to make one of the finest assets to date if you survive this. Just be a good girl and…hold…still…”

Slowly peering over his shoulder, the Doctor witnessed all of his scalpels levitating behind him, blades pointed straight for his heart. The overwhelming fear on his face was enough to bring a smile to her own face as she choked out, “you first.”

And it was over. His collection was buried in his chest before he could scream, sending his body crashing against the table (Y/N) was still strapped to as alarms blared around her, but she was dead set on survival. Fingertips shaking, one of the largest bloody scalpels that was buried inside of the doctor’s body was pressed into (Y/N)’s fist as she began to cut away at the fibers, getting faster with each passing moment. Tears and sweat mingled into a stinging blur, but her fingers kept sawing…and sawing…until she cut away enough to force her body free, immediately shoving her right hand over her heart to stop the spill of blood as she seized a towel to press against the wound.

The second her toes hit the ground, her knees gave out and the room went sideways as (Y/N)’s right shoulder hit the gurney and smashed into the floor. Once her eyes opened, she was met with Doctor 7′s corpse, bloodshot eyes still wide in terror but yet to blink, crimson spilling from his limp jaw that pooled around (Y/N)’s cheek. In a snap, (Y/N) was awake, pushing herself away under the table as the door to the room banged open. Instantly, the first man went down with a scalpel in his ankle from the whip of (Y/N)’s wrist. Taking the other man down at the knees, (Y/N) stabbed him the back with the broken headlamp that crashed from the ceiling after the Doctor went down. Barreling down the hallway, (Y/N)’s shoulder hit the wall again as she forced herself to continue running despite the way the hallway tipped from side to side as if she was in a boat that was about to capsize, painfully taking out guards as she went.

She stumbled until she was met with a wide-open space filled to the brim with Hydra agents in all black and scientists in white lab coats that (Y/N) sprinted straight through causing papers to fly, guns to go off, and people to shout. She had no idea what she was doing, it didn’t feel right, but she didn’t know what else to do. Hide? They’ll find her. They’ll probably catch her too, but (Y/N)’s legs had a mind of their own at this point, until…they stopped. Everything stopped when she witnessed two figures bound to wooden chairs she easily recognized as the ones from her kitchen when she was a little girl, sending chills down her spine, making her feel smaller than ever. Black hoods were over their heads, but (Y/N) knew…she knew…

But before she could speak, one of the hoods was taken off one of the hostage’s heads to reveal the freckled face of her older brother…broken and scared but assuring when his eyes met hers.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” his voice echoed in her head taking her back to the moment before he was shot, stealing her breath away as she stared into his blue eyes that suddenly widened in shock, but his warning came too late. Bodies buried her as (Y/N) let out a scream as she fought them off with both hands, her own blood slickening the floor as there was nothing to staunch the flow any longer, leaving her feeling dizzier and more confused after each heartbeat. With her back to the ground, (Y/N) held off an attacker, her head jerked to the side as the agent’s fist met (Y/N)’s face. Eyes trailing to the side, she spotted it. An amethyst glow that sent her heart into a frenzy in a good way. Hope.

Shoving the woman off of her, (Y/N) shakily stood to stumble to the stone that was shining like a beacon inside a cage that had been displayed in the center of the building, but the pleas of a woman caught her attention. It was her mother begging for (Y/N)’s life. And this wasn’t in memory. It was so clear as if (Y/N) was reliving the moment all over again. Again, she knew exactly what was to come next, but she had to pull herself away. She had to let it go. What happened had happened, and this was only a dream.

It’s only a dream.

It’s only a-

Two shots. Her heart stopped, but her legs kept moving, trudging away from her past, from the worst moments of her life. The moments when she felt the confidence in herself drain from her body and fear fill its place. These are the moments when her innocence died.

Howling through the cacophony of screams from the Hydra agents that surrounded her, (Y/N) killed them instantly, not a hesitation in her mind as she reached towards the Orb, straining every muscle in her body even after a bullet pierced her spine, she reached for Nirvana. Even when the screams of Steve, Bruce, Nat, Wanda, Clint, and Tony pierced her mind, she reached beyond what she knew her body was even capable of…this was the only way.

Grazing the stone, she felt peace for a moment. The world became alight in lavender color as a sense of safety caressed her heart in warmth.

That was before the pain ripped her head back in an awful scream as the stone tore the skin from her body with the sheer power of its touch. In a tornado of light, (Y/N) was rocketed through the galaxies, dimensions whipping past her at speeds that were lost upon her as she began to black out, but her body hit the wooden floors of the Sanctum first, landing on her stomach, everything halted.

Slowly propping herself up on her elbows, she crossed her right hand over her heart to staunch the bleeding, expecting to feel the sticky warmth running between her fingers, but instead she felt chills coursing through the veins in her arms. As her eyes focused, she stared down at her hand that glowed in purple light from within her veins, black and silver magic wisping off of her fingertips like otherworldly flames as she flexed them in wonder, still barely breathing.

“(Y/N)!” A familiar voice called out, himself breathless as well, but she didn’t care. (Y/N) balled her hand into a fist as she turned towards the voice to see Tony with worry lines creasing his face, Bruce and Wong standing behind him.

The knot tightened in (Y/N)’s stomach, threatening to choke her.

**Hi, I’m the Worst. I don’t know why I think these dream sequences are necessary (maybe becuase they’re not you overdramatic corndog), but they keep happening. Anyway, let me know if you have any questions or comments! I have absolutely loved talking with you all more! Your messages have been so incredible and I just wanted to say thank you. It’s so interesting to really get to know the people behind the screens (s/o to Tiger Snakes). Hope you’re all having a great day and that this story didn’t ruin that for any of you (sorry, but as previously mentioned I’m the Worst). Follow and like for more xx

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the rest of this series!

MASTERLIST

saltybatman:#too good for this world…too pure….

Wed, 30 May 2018 02:19:14 -0400

saltybatman:

#too good for this world…too pure….

Chapter 3: Fear of the Unknown (Avengers x Fem!Reader)

Sun, 27 May 2018 07:04:54 -0400

~Part 6~ The Life of an Avenger: Ragnarok

Summary: It’s about time Marilyn Manson and her useless army of the undead (what did she need them for again?) to be executed. Thor, Val, Bruce, and the reader finally take on Hela in Asgard and Loki takes matters into his own hands.

Word Count: 6276

Warnings: **INFINITY WAR SPOILERS**, swearing

MASTERLIST

“So, this is what she’s killing an entire civilization for?” (Y/N) pondered in disbelief, unimpressed with the Asgardian throne that she was lying on top of. “It doesn’t even have lasers. Everything is better with lasers.”

“I do not believe that she is on her conquest just for the chair, but of course (Y/N),” Thor sighed, “I will put in a request for lasers with the next ruler.”

“What I meant was that I don’t understand the draw to supreme power,” (Y/N) ranted, trying to see if dangling her legs over the edge of the throne would make it more comfortable. It didn’t. “It must be the worst job ever. You do one thing wrong, and your entire kingdom falls. You say the wrong thing once, and you fall because your kingdom revolts against you with swords and pitchforks and various fruits to throw at you. This is what democracy is for. At least if the majority of the population votes for the wrong thing, then everyone only has themselves to blame,” (Y/N) shrugged, her nose scrunched up curiously at the large golden horns that extended like jaws above her head. “Like your hammer used to be, this throne is bullshit.”

“And therein lies one of the many reasons why I did not take it,” Thor agreed, graciously extending his hand out to help her off the throne. “Now hurry. She will be here any minute now.”

“Fine, but just know that your ass will be very unforgiving of you when you take a seat in this thing because it ain’t some fucking Lazy Boy, I’ll tell you that much…actually screw the lasers, just get a nice recliner…and maybe a vacuum. This place is a mess…”

“Go!” Thor shouted through his laughter as he attempted to compose himself before his sister’s arrival to the throne room. “But (Y/N)…only come forth if I use our signal. I do not want you to be a part of this fight if you do not have to be.”

“I’m pretty sure that you’re gonna need me,” (Y/N) scoffed as Thor’s face went straight to betrayal. “Well, she’s the Goddess of Death. Not the Goddess of Kittens and Warm Hugs!” (Y/N) explained herself. Thor just shook his head and motioned for her to take cover.

Once she was out of sight, Thor took a seat on what would have been his throne, taking his staff like the great king he could have been.

“See! Now that’s more like it,” (Y/N) appraised from behind a pillar across the hallway, immediately getting scolded by Thor to disappear, leaving behind only an echo of her mischievous laughter.

And not long it was, indeed. (Y/N) could feel the shift in the air as the goddess approached the throne room. Shadows darted across the marble floors, scrambling desperately to reach their hidden corners to shiver in fear as every ounce of the joy was sucked dry, replaced with only that sinking feeling you get when you know someone, or something, is lurking right behind you, waiting in cold silence for the opportunity to take you.

Sensing his sister’s approach, Thor began to summon her closer by impatiently pounding his royal staff on the ground beneath him, sending the dusted remnants of his father’s lies to scatter into oblivion. HIs warning calls to Hela demanded her presence, daring her to find him lounging upon the throne that she was actively killing to reclaim.

An impeccable plan.

The pitch-black antlers battled each other atop the head of the goddess like the poisonous wrath of Medusa as her silhouette announced itself in the throne room, her antlers retracting to lull Thor into a false sense of calm. Her grandeur strides were regal…calculated, sizing up her brother with cold, grey eyes that held a deep resentment that could only be attained through centuries of hate.

“Sister,” Thor greeted with an award-winning smile.

“You’re still alive,” Hela noted, the subtle tremor of her body signifying a blood lust just beneath her statuesque exterior.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Thor commented sarcastically. “Redecorating, I see.”

“It seems our father’s solution for every problem,” Hela bit back spitefully. “Better to cover it up.”

And, honestly, (Y/N) could kind of see her point. Hela had gotten Asgard into the position of the Nine Realm’s powerhouse through means that Odin had obviously supported until the day that he just…didn’t. She grew up knowing that death and pain resulted in immediate recognition and ultimate glory. And for her father, who knows better, to teach her such violence then cast her out for using said violence to support his reign…now that’s cold-hearted.

But on the other hand, killing innocent people is wrong, so (Y/N) still planned to kick her ass back to whatever hell-dimension she came from.

It wasn’t until Thor had been battered and whipped harder than a Rachel Ray brownie mix that (Y/N) tried to step in, peeking her head out from around the hallway, but Thor motioned her off. Huffing, (Y/N) pivoted with her back to the wall as she listened to Thor groan in pain. She wanted to cover her ears and block out his suffering, but she couldn’t and the sounds only got worse. She knew that Thor didn’t want her to get involved, but this was getting ridiculous.

He brought you here for a reason. Better safe than sorry.

Wait, what? Better safe than sorry? Who am I? Old Man Clint?

This must be serious if I’m using that phrase.

In a jolt, (Y/N) stalked the goddess from behind, Hela’s hand gripping Thor’s weapon with ease as he struggled against her unwavering strength.

“To be honest, I expected more,” Hela taunted Thor, quickly twisting his staff from his grip as she sent him into a downward spiral across the room.

“Be careful what you wish for, bitch,” (Y/N) retorted before taking the goddess out at the knees in one swift kick, splaying her flat on her back on the golden tile where (Y/N) secured her wrists and ankles each in a cage of ice.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Hela spit as a cascade of nightshade blades rained from the ceiling in an avalanche of death. (Y/N) dodged the blades, blowing the rest through the windows of the palace, shattering the glass to let in the last rays of sunlight before she was surely about to die.

“Depends on my mood,” (Y/N) sassed as Hela freed herself from her chains, only being stopped from impaling the ice sorceress by Thor impaling her first, pinning her to the gold-laced wall.

Now that’s teamwork.

Unfortunately, Thor’s strength wasn’t enough before Hela got Thor pinned to the wall instead, her black talons squeezing the life from his throat.

“Here’s the difference between us,” Hela boasted with poison on her lips. “I’m Odin’s firstborn, the rightful heir, the savior of Asgard. And you’re nothing.” And with her proclamation, Hela threw Thor to the ground where (Y/N) stepped in to defend him, but her efforts were wasted as soon as Hela knocked her into one of the pillars, the crumbling remnants leaving dust to snow her hair. Thor attacked the goddess again, but one slice of her sword brought the god to his knees, clutching his stomach in agony as she circled her prey.

“So simple,” Hela hissed, “even a blind man could see it.”

And in an instant, the blade ripped through Thor’s eye socket as blood cascaded down his face with the howls of his misery. Hela scowled in disdain.

“Now you remind me of Dad,” Hela sneered. But before she could end it all, (Y/N) screamed in a war cry of anguish as she tackled the goddess, wielding blades of ice like katanas, slashing wildly at the shocked goddess. Hitting the ground with the force of an avalanche, a wall of crystallized snow buried the goddess against the staircase of the golden throne as (Y/N) launched herself at the goddess, barely missing her body before impaling the ground instead to shatter her katanas to pieces. Hela stood quickly behind (Y/N) to charge her, but (Y/N) jabbed her in the face with her elbow before running towards the pillars and parkoured up the side to backflip over Hela, then blast her through the pillars in a flurry of ice that left her crumbled in a pile of stone. Breathing heavily, (Y/N) stalked towards the goddess, eyes and fingertips glowing silver amongst the smoke of destruction. Instead of groans of pain, (Y/N) heard the cackle of laughter erupt from where the goddess lay.

“Now, don’t you wish you had done that a bit sooner to save your precious friend?” Hela taunted, straightening herself from the ashes to lean against the wall behind her to gather her strength. “What a pitiful creature you are. I can see so much that you could have been if you were my executioner. If you would have chosen my reigning victory over some wannabe ruler. Look at him, he can barely stand. Sad. But you…you could have been so much more,” Hela appreciated, scrutinized (Y/N) up and down before shaking her head and prowling towards the ice sorceress with a sigh. “Tragic that I must kill you now.”

“Not likely,” (Y/N) asserted boldly, bringing forth another round of snide laughter from the goddess.

“Do you not realize who I am?” Hela balked. “It’s shocking to me that less people truly grasp that I am the incarnation of death itself. I don’t know how many people I have to threaten and kill before that really sinks in.”

“How about none? Maybe try a new hobby like modeling for Hot Topic. I bet they’d really appreciate…all this,” (Y/N) offered, motioning to Hela’s leather-clad figure as the goddess rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh.

“This has been mildly entertaining, but it’s time for you to die,” Hela huffed as she finished sharpening her sword with a quick blow to whisk away the ashes.

“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes back before charging at the goddess with a shout of rage. It would’ve been really cool if (Y/N) had actually beat Hela, but instead a fist full of her hair was being tugged in Hela’s grasp, her nails digging into (Y/N)’s scalp as she felt the warmth of blood run down her cheeks with a stroke of chilling tears. Hela dragged both (Y/N)’s and Thor’s ragged bodies to the balcony, shoving their faces towards the chaos of Asgardian warfare down on the Bifrost below.

“You see, no one’s going anywhere,” Hela hissed in Thor’s ear, then brushed her lips next to (Y/N)’s ear. “I’ll get that sword even if I have to kill every single one of them to do it.”

“Surprised you haven’t done it yet, All-Powerful-One…or was that just…a load of shit,” (Y/N) choked out through heaving breaths, but Hela was unshaken.

“Suppose I’m deciding whether to kill you first, or let you live long enough to watch the city burn,” Hela whispered as (Y/N)’s head lolled to the side, barely able to keep herself awake any longer. But her senses were jolted by Thor’s chuckle that caused Hela to spitefully drive a stake through his back. (Y/N)’s eyes found the culprit with strenuous effort. It was a ship mounted by none other than Loki.

“No…fucking…way,” (Y/N) whispered, a smirk tugging at her lips. She couldn’t believe it. The son of a bitch had actually done the right thing for once. Who would’ve thought?

“It’s a valiant effort, but you never stood a chance,” Hela scoffed, pulling the dagger from Thor’s back to replace deep in his arm as she held (Y/N) firm by the neck. “You see, I’m not a queen or a monster. I’m the Goddess of Death. What were you the god of again?” Hela demanded from her brother, her hands crushing Thor’s throat as silence filled the air with tension. “No matter, I’ll slice your pretty little sidekick’s neck while you take a moment to ponder that,” Hela threatened, wielding a blade from mid-air, placing the wicked edge along (Y/N)’s throat and began to draw blood. “Tell me brother, what were you the god of again?”

And that was when the atmosphere shifted. Every tiny hair on (Y/N)’s body stood on end as a tingle filled her veins in a way that shifted all attention away from the scream that was just making its way to her parted lips. Her eyes were skywards, spellbound by the culminating clouds that spiraled into a storm of blue lightning that crashed straight into the balcony. In the same moment, she heard the roar of Thor’s voice as his body slammed into her, sending her into a ball far from Hela. Once she turned her eyes back to the scene, Hela was gone. Only a gaping hole where (Y/N) used to be was crumbled to the ground below where Hela lay in a heap. Ears still ringing, (Y/N)’s eyes found Thor, a ring of sapphire, electric aura surrounded his raging body. Blue lightning was crackling from the palms of his hands and glowed in his eye until he settled down enough to crouch next to (Y/N).

“Are you alright?” Thor asked, concern etching his bloodied face. Always a gentleman.

“Well that’s a new look,” (Y/N) commented loudly, then opened her mouth to pop her ears as Thor chuckled, the blue fire still burning in his eye as he helped (Y/N) to stand. “I mean that in a good way. You know, I wanted to ask you earlier, but what kind of juice cleanse/detox/steroids are you on to create that? Because whatever your secret is, you’ve been holding out on me, Pikachu. Could’ve used that kind of power in Sokovia.”

“I did not realize that I had this kind of power until I fought and, despite your claims, beat Banner.”

“You don’t say,” (Y/N) scoffed, raising her eyebrows at Thor, still not satisfied with his non-explanation.

“No, I actually do say,” Thor argued in confusion. “I just did say that.”

(Y/N) sighed, reaching up to slap her hand on Thor’s shoulder, taking a moment to look him deep in his eyes. “I love you, Thor, but you’re a fucking idiot.”

“I find myself charming as well, Fearsome One,” Thor joked, ruffling (Y/N)’s hair before returning his attention to the Bifrost, giving (Y/N) the chance to see his right eye that was blackened and bloodied from Hela’s blade.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough,” (Y/N) apologized, her eyes finding her boots. “You brought me as backup and I failed.”

Thor placed his warm hand, still steaming from his power surge, under (Y/N)’s chin. “You have not failed. There are still people on the Bifrost to be fought for and a war to be won. There is still hope.”

The edges of (Y/N)’s lips pulled upwards into a shy smile, a rare beauty to be seen. She took a long breath in and out before nodding to Thor who smiled back at her before nearing the edge of the balcony.

“Wait!” (Y/N) yelled at him, scrambling in her back pocket for the iPod Nano-looking device she found in Valkyrie’s apartment (she planned to give it back…maybe). With the press of one button, “Immigrant Song,” by Black Sabbath was playing as she attached the device to her arm and nodded with finality to Thor. “Ah, yeah…”

“Did you have that ready just for this?” Thor accused.

“Shh, you’re ruining the moment,” (Y/N) sassed. “Every badass battle needs a badass soundtrack. That’s just, like, the laws of super heroism.”

“Oh, and I am the idiot?”

“Would you just shut up and accept the Black Sabbath?”

“The Black who?”

“A second black eye from me if you don’t go down there and kick some ass!” (Y/N) shouted, throwing her arms in the air as Thor’s entire body flared up in blue lightning, encapsulating the power of the heavens as he launched himself towards the Bifrost, red cape billowing behind him like a beacon of war.

“This is Sparta, motherfuckers,” (Y/N) whispered into the wind.

It was a battle for sure. Thor, (Y/N), and Valkyrie held off Hela as best they could while the Asgardians were able to board their rescue ship and Loki went off alone (maybe not the best idea, but to be continued) to set off Ragnarok, whatever the hell that was. However, (Y/N)’s curiosity was quickly dissected by Hela’s sudden attack that almost knocked (Y/N) off the Bifrost but, she dug two ice blades into the bridge and pulled herself up just in time to deflect Hela’s sword. The two crossed blades, Hela’s face close enough to feel the chill of (Y/N)’s breath, witness the silver crescents of her incandescent eyes.

“Sidekick. Really?” (Y/N) snarled, finally pushing Hela over the Bifrost and into the water below with a jolt of magic that almost made (Y/N) collapse.

In a typhoon of waves, Hela rose from the dark waters on a large black talon, stepping from her creation towards Valkyrie who dragged herself away from the goddess as the talon disappeared back into oblivion.

“Hela, enough!” Thor shouted as he stood from his crumpled position on the Bifrost, feeling the earthquake he was waiting for beginning to shake the planet. “You want Asgard, it’s yours!”

“Whatever game you’re playing, it won’t work,” Hela asserted. “You can’t defeat me.”

“No, I know,” Thor panted, then pointed towards the Asgardian palace before it erupted into a volcano of fire and chaos. A giant stepped out of the nuclear explosion and loomed over the wreckage at triple the size of Scott Lang back at the Leipzing airport during a fight that seemed ridiculous to (Y/N) while it was happening, but now seemed flat out idiotic to her in the face of what she now knew now was Ragnarok.

Dear Diary, where did things all go wrong?

“No,” Hela gasped at the figure of absolute destruction that roared flames into the storm clouds that dispersed in fright from around the monster’s head. For the first and only time, (Y/N) completely agreed with the goddess.

In the midst of her distracted fear, Hela was impaled by Valkyrie who blitzed the goddess from behind and landed in a crouch beside (Y/N). Thor completed the attack by raining shockwaves down from the skies, dismantling the Bifrost where Hela lay, casting her into the seas below.

But the rage wasn’t over as the red giant dragged his sword to destroy every street, home, and livelihood that the Asgardians had spent centuries to build for themselves. Like a toddler destroying his city of Legos, the giant found pleasure in his reign of terror, smashing the bits a place that was once beautiful. The flames licked up the sides of every golden tower, melting the burning city into a storm of red fire. Even the smoke was lit with fury as it flooded the skies.

“Tremble before me Asgard,” the giant bellowed. “I am your reckoning!”

Thor, (Y/N), and Valkyrie stared up at the giant, watching in silent awe-struck horror at the scene of pure chaos.

“So…” (Y/N) drawled, “this has been fun…but, uh, what do we do now?”

Valkyrie turned to (Y/N), then looked skywards towards the ship full of Asgardians that were now leaving this wasteland they once called home.

“The people are safe,” Valkyrie assured. “That’s all that matters.”

“Cool, cool,” (Y/N) agreed with a nervous nod. “However, quick tidbit about me: I also indulge in the luxury of not being dead, so…”

“So, we are fulfilling the prophecy, (Y/N),” Thor answered solemnly.

“I hate this prophecy,” Valkyrie interjected.

“So do I, but we have no choice,” Thor explained, all doomsday. “Surtur destroys Asgard. He destroys Hela, so our people may live. But we need to let him finish the job, otherwise…” Thor trailed off as Hulk catapulted himself towards Surtur, fists raised and ready to smash. “No…Hulk, stop, you moron!” Thor commanded the beast, but Surtur had already flicked Hulk off of his arm like a pesky mosquito. Face-planting into the Bifrost, Hulk slowly slumped to his feet, prepared to have another go. “Hulk, stop. Just for once in your life, don’t smash!” Thor warned again.

“Hey, hey, hey,” (Y/N) mediated. “A wise man once said that if the Hulk wants to smash, let him smash. It is the way of nature.”

“Did you just call Stark a wise man?”

“He has his moments,” (Y/N) shrugged, then turned to Hulk and started fist banging. “Hulk, Hulk, Hulk, Hulk!” (Y/N) chanted before Thor shoved her arm to her side, making (Y/N) give him a look but he just smiled.

“Let’s go!” Valkyrie scolded Hulk who gritted his teeth in frustration before pounding his way towards (Y/N) and Valkyrie, picking up both warriors in the crooks of his arms and launched towards the rescue ship with Thor locked onto his back.

Dear Diary (again), a little thing that not many people want to know about but have definitely wondered. Yes, the Hulk’s armpits do smell like a 24-Hour Fitness men’s locker room bathroom. Question, answered.

(Y/N) understood the pain that was around her. Outside of the room she sat in, Asgardians were mourning for the lives they had lost, the memories that were shattered, and the futures that were uncertain. The wrenching feeling in her gut wouldn’t rest as her mind cascaded into a whirlpool of amethyst-shaded dreams that made her dizzy, but she couldn’t escape the vision.

Hesitantly, (Y/N) lifted her face from the palms of her hands to look herself in the mirror for the first time in what seemed like months. How much time had passed since Loki pulled her through Dr. Strange’s portal into Sakaar? Were Steve and Sam looking for her? Obviously, they hadn’t made it to Asgard, so where were they? How was Bucky doing? Where was Tony? Nat? Wanda? Peter? Clint? The little makes? What the hell was going on back on Earth?

Despite her youth and super soldier serum still surging through her veins, the tired lines on her face and sunken eyes made (Y/N) wince at her own pale, ragged reflection that was hidden behind the black charcoal that smoked her skin. Her appearance reminded her of Winona Ryder in the movie Heathers.

“Veronica, you look like hell.”

“Yeah? I just got back.”

All (Y/N) needed now was a cigarette between her lips, but she doubted that she could find a corner store in the middle of fucking space. Again, her glossy cheeks found the backs of her arms that she folded across the vanity, stubborn tears betraying her eyes as they melted into her skin. With Valkyrie and Thor out of the room, (Y/N) let her emotions consume her. She didn’t want to be crying. All she wanted was a nap, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. Especially after a courteous knock rapped against her doorframe. Shoving a tissue in her nose and wiping her eyes to staunch Niagara Fucking Falls, (Y/N) unwillingly trudged over to open the door to see Loki.

“I know that this may not be the best time, but-”

Before Loki could finish, (Y/N) shut the door in his face, her own face unmoved as she slothed back towards the vanity to sit and stare at the silver, metallic wall as dark thoughts pervaded her mind, but eventually she got tired of the knocking. She had hoped that Thor or Valkyrie would be back to throw Loki off the ship to float amongst the rest of his fellow space junk, but that didn’t happen. Cracking the door open a few inches, (Y/N) waited impatiently for Loki to explain his presence.

“I have something for you,” Loki simplified.

“And I have a foot in the ass for you if you don’t leave.”

“I understand that you do not trust me.”

“Congratulations. You’ve mastered common sense.”

“May I please come in?” Loki asked, a nervous twitch edging his voice, but (Y/N) didn’t care. He didn’t deserve her care.

“Typically, the delivery boy doesn’t get invited into the apartment. This isn’t PornHub. If you have something for me, then give it to me…with witnesses.”

“This isn’t an item that you’re going to want many people to know about,” Loki insisted in a low voice, but (Y/N) was unconvinced. “When I went to retrieve Surtur’s crown in Odin’s vault, I may have picked up a few things…just for my troubles as the newly gilded Savior of Asgard. Quite a feat to live up to.”

“You fucking kleptomaniac. There really is no such thing as a selfless act,” (Y/N) mused.

“I saved all of these people. I feel I deserved something in return.”

“Real classy.”

“Allow me to put it to you like this. Would you rather myself have this rare and dangerous item, or for you to take it off of my ‘untrustworthy’ hands?”

(Y/N) pondered the question for a moment, then turned back into her room, leaving the door ajar for Loki to enter as she stood at attention in the center of the chamber, arms crossed, a deep distrust locked in her eyes. Loki asked if he could lock the door and (Y/N) nodded. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Loki, it was more that she was annoyed as hell by him.

“Impeccable chamber. Have you decorated this yourself?” Loki commented, his eyes falling on the mess of dirty battle armor sprawled across the beds and couch.

“Show me what you brought, or I show you the door,” (Y/N) deadpanned.

“Very indifferent this evening, Lady (Y/L/N),” Loki chided, tisking her as he shook his head, but (Y/N) waited tight-lipped for him to finish his performance and leave. With a heavy sigh, Loki reached into his cape, not much unlike a drug dealer in a back alley. “And to think I may have done you mighty a favor…what kind of manners have they taught you on Midgard?”

“Don’t trust the shady guy in the trench coat.”

“It’s not a trench coat…why does everyone find it so vital to criticize my attire-”

“Loki!” (Y/N) exploded, her face revealing her own surprise at her sudden outburst. “I just…I would like to be alone right now, so if you could hurry this up…that’d be great,” (Y/N) explained as evenly as she could. Loki almost said something about hearing her muffled cries from behind the door but couldn’t bring himself to tear her down further. She was one of the good ones. So good that he almost stopped himself entirely from what he was about to do. Almost. But his orders were clear.

Loki grinned up at (Y/N) who raised her eyebrows impatiently at him. “You are going to like this, and I know that my promises are questionable to say the least-“

“The very least…”

“-yet I may promise you that this one is well worth your patience.”

(Y/N) let out another ironically impatient exhale as Loki pulled his fist from his pocket, fingers tightly enclosed around a glowing figure that peaked amethyst from between his deathly pale skin, casting a crystalline glow around the room like a lavender disco ball. Just like inside of her mind.

(Y/N) swallowed nervously as her heart pounded harder in her chest, clawing to be reconnected with its long-lost soulmate. “Loki…you didn’t…”

“But what if I did?” Loki replied calmly, sensing (Y/N)’s raised nerves. But he had to do it. It was the only way. “Give me your hand.”

(Y/N)’s eyes shot up to Loki’s in fear, the blue so iridescent in his eyes, she felt she could see right through them. But, in truth, she couldn’t. For once, she could not read him. “Why would you give me this? Don’t you want to…take over the galaxy, and have a statue, and a parade, and confetti, and whatever else you slimy rulers do to celebrate your royalty?”

“I’ve had my moment,” Loki answered evenly, but the bead of sweat on his forehead forbade him.

“What is this?” (Y/N) questioned, a dark look in her eyes.

“This is a compromise,” Loki admitted, making (Y/N) cock her head and refasten her arms protectively across her chest. “I fear that this may be interpreted as a trick, but…I am attempting to be candid here, my dear, and you are not making it very simple.”

“Probably because this isn’t simple,” (Y/N) retorted. “You raised hell for the Tesseract. Almost got away with taking over an entire planet with it.”

“You really think so?” Loki wondered.

“No, not at all,” (Y/N) responded immediately as Loki sighed in defeat. “But you had a difficult go at it from your side. What changed your mind so drastically from that crazed hunger for power, to now?”

“People change.”

“Not you.”

“Were you not the one who convinced my brother to trust me when we fought Malekith?”

“Not trust, just tolerate for the greater good…or something along those lines,” (Y/N) added to make her intentions seem less cliché than they really had been at the time.

“What makes you think this isn’t for the greater good?”

“…I refuse to dignify a response to that question,” (Y/N) answered in annoyance, clearly indicating that Loki’s window was closing as he felt the familiar piercing pain rack his skull.

“What can I do, (Y/N)?” Loki exploded, his tone bordering on begging. His eyes were wide, finally opening (Y/N)’s perception to his unspoken panic. It was an expression she had read before on his face after he had been caught in New York. He was afraid. “I am well aware that I am in no right to demand your trust, but I want you to have this. It is best for it to be out of my hands and into yours, so…just…just take it…”

No matter his intentions, at the time, (Y/N) had believed that she had to take the stone off of his hands. There wasn’t anything worse that she could possibly do with it than he could, so she held out her hand to him. The relief that washed over Loki’s face made her hand twitch in hesitation, but she swallowed her nerves and kept her eyes on the god as his fingertips graced the palm of her hand as her nerve endings were set ablaze. The moment the stone touched her skin, every inch of her body became alive like a field of wildflowers after the harsh storms of winter. She felt like herself again, a freedom filling her lungs and escaping her lips in the form of pure ecstasy that was tangible by the god in front of her who couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as remorse replaced his relief.

“Oh, so now you regret your decision?” (Y/N) teased him as a sad smile crossed his lips.

“Not at all,” Loki answered as he took in a shaky breath. “I suppose that I simply hope to one day see what you shall do with this gift…it would truly be a sight to see.” And he meant it.

“You say that like you’ll never try to pull some shit on me, or Earth ever again. In which case I’d be disappointed since that’s kind of your niche,” (Y/N) responded, examining the stone in her hand with curious eyes, still resisting against the full power that she held. “Do you ever wonder what the world would be like if we all spoke our minds?” (Y/N) pondered out loud, raising Loki’s attention.

“Many times,” Loki responded, still debating his next move. “But all I ever see is myself getting attacked in various ways…so, I would admit, quite chaotic. Not a world I would stand to live in.”

“I think there would be less war,” (Y/N) mused, her eyes dancing in amethyst light. “War is built on misunderstanding and mistrust. If we all said what we were thinking, then at least all options and opinions would be on the table, open for discussion…what are you thinking about right now?”

An innocent question that Loki would typically ignore and divert, but he felt an overwhelming urge to tell her the truth. His compulsion to lie almost outmatched the power of the orb…until her eyes flickered up to his, and it was all over.

“I-I am trying to save…save my-“

CRASH. The whole ship convulsed as if it had a stroke, causing the vanity mirror to shatter and the lights to shudder like the rattling of bones.

“What the hell was that?” (Y/N) choked as she made her way to the door, but Loki was already on her, pressing his hands around hers that held the stone. Screams echoed in the background as (Y/N) tried to free herself from his grasp, but he was desperate.

“I also hope that you shall one day be able to thank me for this,” Loki rushed as he pulled one of his hands away from (Y/N)’s as he pressed his palm firmly into her forehead to pull her into a deep sleep. Immediately, her body went limp in his arms as he carried her out into the hallway full of terrified Asgardians that didn’t have the whereabouts to question him. In his haste, he transformed himself and (Y/N) into Midgardians he had once seen on what they called, “television,” as he sprinted towards the desolate room where Heimdall was meditating.

Bursting through the door, he almost knocked (Y/N)’s head against the doorframe, but quickly shifted his stance to shield her. His heaving breath would’ve been ice cold against her skin, but she was off in her own world. Her mind reeled back to the time her and Clint blasted “Come and Get Your Love” over the lab’s loudspeakers back at Stark Towers after Tony and Bruce had been working non-stop for basically 36 hours just to break the tension. She hadn’t known that they were building and perfecting Ultron at the time, but the memory was still one of the happiest ones that she had. Dancing like an absolute idiot in front of Tony until eventually he caved and joined in. Bruce was a bit more hesitant, but (Y/N) was so contagiously happy. Plus, he knew nothing could look more ridiculous than the dad-moves Clint was pulling.

But this was all in (Y/N)’s head, so far from the agonizingly painstaking reality that lay ahead of her and the rest of the world…but Loki believed she deserved a few last good moments before…

“Loki, I-“ Heimdall began, but Loki was panicked. He became an asshole when he was panicked…well, more of an asshole.

“We do not have time to discuss how utterly infuriating you are. Yes, you knew I was coming. What a bloody gift you are to the universe,” Loki ranted as Heimdall helped him lay (Y/N)’s relaxed body on the ground. Ironically, she was more peaceful in that moment than she had been in months. “He’s already here…and do not burden me. I am aware that you were aware of that.”

“I need to know where I am sending her,” Heimdall responded calmly, his energy well-collected and balanced. Nothing could shake him at that moment.

“So, the all-knowing vision is not fully immune to blind spots. Wonderful that you choose this moment to have a flaw,” Loki bit back spitefully as he looked behind himself to find the looming ship that had haunted his nightmares, awake and rarely asleep, long before New York came to pass. The ship dwarfed the one they were on like the Titanic to a ship-wrecked victim’s feeble attempt at forging some palm tree leaves together for a raft that would inevitably sink. They were inevitably about to sink…

“The location, Loki,” Heimdall demanded as Loki growled out the address, then continued his patronizing at the gatekeeper to distract himself from the growing sense of chaos that approached.

“And isn’t it oh, so convenient that you may only bring forth the Bifrost for one last person. May only muster the strength to allow one to escape…do you not realize how close upon death we are? Do you not realize how worthless our attempts were to keep these people safe? Do you not-“

“Grant me silence to call upon the Bifrost,” Heimdall commanded, giving Loki pause. The request was firm yet comforting to the god who was masking his fears in the only ways he knew how.

“I am simply warning you to hurry. My brother and his pets must have already discovered her to be missing. He will attempt to search for her before he must fight,” Loki cautioned in a condescending tone, knowing fully-well Heimdall knew exactly where Thor was and how much time he had left. He needed to feel powerful before everything might be stripped away.

Heimdall’s muttered chanting became louder as the moments passed and (Y/N)’s body became an enchanted tinge of holographic light that colored her skin in pale, shimmering color until she was gone in a roar that echoed louder than the approaching ship, causing Loki to cover his ears and cower until the light faded. Staring at the empty space where (Y/N) had been, Loki felt relief at having completed his mission. He knew he was about to meet the voice that had commanded him for decades, but at least now…now he could provide a sense of loyalty to the entity. Provide his own services as bait. Provide a diversion to allow the others to escape.

In the wake of the silence the Bifrost left, the morbid screams of the Asgardians filtered into the room once more as Loki shook himself out of his own terror. Heimdall had already left to fight for their lives, but Loki was apprehensive. Everything he had done came down to this.

Swallowing the fear that choked his throat, he walked out the door and into the unknown.

MASTERLIST

*oh shit, it’s bout to get good…please like, follow, and re-post to show support for whatever the fuck is about to happen next xx

Chapter 3: Dark Magic {Avengers Imagine}

Tue, 22 May 2018 06:51:56 -0400

Turning the Tides

(Peter Parker x Fem!Reader x Tony Stark!Dad Vibes}

Summary: After saving Tony Stark and Steve Rogers in Manhattan four years earlier as a mermaid, Stark decided to make it his mission to find you and recruit you to stop Rogers from his own mission to disengage some soldier zombies in Siberia…whatever, you didn’t really know, or care. You knew enough to understand that stopping Rogers wouldn’t be the end of the world (literally), and that Stark’s paycheck would be satisfactory. However, you never expected to meet someone that would make the experience truly worth your while…you know, as a friend. Shut up about it already, okay?

Warnings: Civil War spoilers and swearing

You waited impatiently on a bright red sofa in the living space of the Avengers floor. You were alone and bored and halfway through a bottle of overpriced vodka when the elevator doors finally opened to reveal Stark and his quote-on-quote, ‘golden child,’ and you had to admit…not bad.

“…so, no,” Stark groaned petulantly. “You definitely cannot ask Cap to sign your suit. Moral of this conversation: don’t embarass me, kid,” Stark finished with a heavy sigh as he fell into the royal blue, velour chair beside you. “Party time’s over, Spring Breaker!” Tony yelled at you, motioning for you to set aside the bottle, but you just grinned and took another sip. “(Y/N), Peter. Spider-ling, Little Mermaid. Discuss.”

You studied every awkward move Peter made, immediately eliminating any notion that you might have had that he might be a threat as he nervously reached his hand out towards you. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m meeting someone…someone, so…someone like-”

“A mermaid, Peter,” you interjected calmly, inspiring a fresh bout of red to flush his cheeks. Oh, you were gonna have fun with this one. “Don’t be afraid to call me what I am. I know it’s strange. Just don’t think about it too much,” you whispered, throwing a wink into the mix that almost made him melt.

“Uh…yeah. No, yeah totally,” Peter stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, I kind of want to think about it. I mean, I already have. A lot. I mean, not in a weird way, just a curious way, you know. For science, and-”

“And, I’ll stop you right there, Romeo,” Tony broke in with a huff, causing Peter to breathe out a sigh of relief. “Before you dig yourself too deep into this gaping hole that you consider ‘flirting’…alright, gather around children. I have a story to tell you. It won’t take long becuase I don’t want to burden you with all the paperwork and politics and heart palpatations-”

“Oh, please do,” you dared, smirk spreading across your lips as Tony raised his eyebrows.

“And all the things you, yes you Fins, already know.”

“I’m pretty sure there are a few dots you could help connect for me.”

“Why do you care so much? I’m an upstanding member of society who saved the world on multiple occasions…and also I’m paying you, so I don’t see a problem here other than your possible underage alcoholism. That bottle was not that empty the last time I saw it-”

“It doesn’t matter. Just fill me in, and I’ll make a final decision from there.”

The room went silent. Stark and Peter stared at you, but each expression was on polar opposite ends of the spectrum. You could tell Stark was about five seconds away from exploding, desperately attempting to conceal his panic and rage (it wasn’t working). And Peter…well, Peter was just a lovestruck puppy dog. You relished the power you held over the situation at hand. Not that it mattered becuase you were going to help Stark anyway in order to earn what you desired, but you enjoyed the sensation regardless.

“Why did I have to find the most stubborn person on the planet to mentor…” Tony mumbled as he lowered himself again to sink into his throne that you suddenly regretted not sitting in.

“Mentor?” You scoffed. “I don’t remember hearing anything like that. At this point, the picture I’m painting in my head is that you’re taking two random, mutant teenagers and throwing them into a fight with full-fledged, alien-vanquishing, universe-rescuing, ex-HYDRA war criminals without any training what-so-ever, only the hope of money and not getting killed to get by. Is this true?”

Again, Stark was speechless. What was there to say? You were right, and you knew you were right.

“Yeah…” Peter drawled hesitantly. “And, I have this crazy difficult chemistry test on Friday that I just really have to nail, Mr. Stark, so…”

“So, let the guy do his fricken chemistry bullshit, and leave us out of your mess,” you asserted, taking Peter by the arm as you dragged him surprisingly willingly towards the elevator.

“Wait! Wait! That’s unnecessary! Totally uncalled for!” Tony rushed as he jumped from his chair to block your path. “I’ll tell you everything, okay? Sparing no details. Laying bare the naked truth before you.”

“Full coverage?”

“Everything.”

“All truth?”

“Every word.”

“Plane ticket to Japan?”

“As promised.”

“Whoa!” Peter gasped. “You’re going to Japan? When?”

“After we take down Spangles and the rest of his Stripes,” Tony answered quickly, keeping his eyes latched onto yours.

“Screw you. I don’t need this,” you spat, shaking your head as you pushed past Stark.

“Alexei Vasiliev,” Stark stated hollowly, stopping you dead in your tracks. Well, you can’t play stupid now. You turned around slowly and coldly looked the billionaire up and down. You knew he’d done his research deep into your history, but you didn’t realize until that moment how deep he’d actually gotten. “I didn’t want to bring him up, but you’ve given me no choice. He’s dangerous, (Y/N). I can help you.”

“But only if I comply,” you retorted. “Blackmail seems a bit low for you, Stark.”

“Like I said, I have no choice,” he insisted, the dark circles around his eyes darkening in the wake of his proclamation. “This isn’t a threat. Just a suggestion. I’m sure you’ve taken care of yourself well up until this point, but just like myself, he’s getting closer to finding you.”

“I found you, remember?”

“I was two days away from gaining full access to your encrypted governement-owned file that was created before you went rogue, detailing your entire childhood and what really happened to your parents. I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t.” You cautioned darkly, then swallowed your pride. Ignoring Stark’s ego and ignorance, he was certainly right about The Hunter gaining ground on his mission to find you. He found your sister. What’s to prevent him from finding you? You might be powerful, but what’s enough to stop him? An extra pair of eyes to watch your back might not be a bad idea.

You glanced over at Peter who kept his eyes on the floor, a pensive look in his eyes as he seemed to be thinking hard about something. You could tell it was something very personal, so you refrained from questioning it. Eventually, you peered up at Stark from under your long eyelashes, gracefully motioning to the couches again.

“Shall we?”

Alright, so Stark was right. You were already fully aware of almost the entire feud between himself and Steve Rogers. Starting from the Ultron incident, through Roger’s ties to his former-HYDRA war buddy, and into Roger’s objection to the Sokovia Accords.

Here’s the issue: you actually sided with Rogers…in your head. Out loud, you kept your opinions neutral and balanced. No sides. It was unnatural for your lips to refrain from the constant flow of uncensored thoughts that your mind never seemed to filter, but it just seemed like the smarter option at that point.

However, mid-conversation the time finally came for you to display your full potential as an ally. Again, a new concept for you sharing your gift with anyone besides your family…but they were gone. You’d accepted that. Maybe this was just another step towards moving on.

“Alright, Scales. You said you were more than just a water demon. Show me what else you got,” Stark prodded as you narrowed your gaze at him.

“Well, with a boost of confidence like that, sure thing!” You retorted sarcastically with a smile that almost immediately dropped as you reached into your bag and pulled out the book your father had passed down to your older sister before he died. Technicalities gave you full custody of the book now.

“Oh, goodie. An old, musty book,” Stark huffed, rolling his eyes in annoyance at the leather-bound pages on the table before him. “I guess I can read Cap into submission. Got any Hemingway, or Steinbeck, or-”

“Do you want to know what the book does, or not?” You demanded stubbronly as Stark motioned for you to go on, quickly flipping through the yellowing pages. “This is the book that taught me everything I know. I’m still working on it, but I’ve figured out most of it,” you continued as you stole the book back from a confused looking billionaire. “Unless you’re proficient in Latin, this is pretty much useless to you.”

“Proficient, or not, that looks like some dark stuff for someone of your age.”

“Age doesn’t matter when your father was a warlock.”

“No way!” Peter exclaimed in awe. “Like Harry Potter? That’s so cool!”

“Barring the last things wall-crawler said, I agree with his first statement,” Stark scoffed. “No way. I’m calling bullshit. That’s impossible. I asked for the truth, not a science fiction novel.”

“You just fought aliens in New York with a team that included a living Ken doll that controls lightning, and you’re gonna lecture me on what’s possible?”

“First of all, that team doesn’t exist anymore,” Stark explained, pacing the room, until he stopped in front of you, leveling his deep, brown eyes with yours. “Second off, prove it,” Stark dared with the cock of his eyebrow.

“Fine,” you shrugged, barely lifting a finger before the whole room was swallowed in a shroud of smoky darkness as the windows were dripping in a tar as black as death, leaving only the center of the room where yourself, Stark, and Peter were standing alight by a single lamp beside the red couch. Jade and amethyst clouds swirled restlessly around them as if they were in the eye of a tornado itself, boiling alive inside a witches cauldron, casting shadows across the room to wake the spirits from just beyond the veil…as if.

“Okay! Alright! We get it, (Y/N)! You’re a witch with a gift for spontaneous haunted house attractions. Quit it before Michael Jackson rises from his grave and wrecks my office,” Stark demanded, but you could sense his nervousness like a wolf senses fear. With a smirk, you released the tension in your mind as the air settled around them and the city sounds of honking cars below could be heard again through the now open windows. Stark shook his head slightly, probably trying to make sure he wasn’t losing his mind as Peter fell backwards in shock on the couch. You couldn’t tell if he was in awe, or pure terror yet. He’d sort out his feelings soon enough. “Necromancy? Seriously? Explain yourself. Now,” Stark ordered.

“I got my fins from my mom, and my skills from my dad. What more is there to explain?”

Stark just balked at you for a second. “Oh, there’s far more to explain that that!”

“Of course there is,” you responded coolly. “But, it’s not really any of your business. You want me for a job, and I’m here. That’s all you get.”

“For now…” Stark mumbled to himself making you roll your eyes. What an ego-fest this guy was. You supposed after years of being the Tony Stark, things were bound to go to your head. But this guy was a whole new level of obnoxious narcissism. “Alright, fine. You plead the fifth, that’s great. As long as you’re willing to cooperate, I’ll accept that. But, in the face of this mission, what else exactly can you do and how do I know that this won’t bite me in the ass?”

“Basically, I can move things with my mind and conjur spirits to do my bidding,” (Y/N) shrugged, then flicked her eyes wickedly up to Stark. “And that’s an answer that can only come with time.”

“Perfect. I found my Anti-Scarlet Witch.”

“Scar-Scarlet Witch?!” Peter exclaimed.

“Spider-boy. You have got to stop acting like one of those freaks from Comic Con,” you sighed. “It’s not really intimidating when your opponent is fan-girling over you on the battlefield like a 14-year old at a One Direction concert.”

“Listen to your older, wiser sister,” Stark advised distractedly as he marched out of the room, motioning for his recruits to follow behind him while you playfully punched Peter on the shoulder and he nervously laughed, not really sure what to do next. “FRIDAY, fire up the chopper. We’ve got a red-head to meet.”

“Romanoff?” You questioned as Stark smirked.

“Oh, she’ll love to meet you. Stubborn, snarky, killer instincts, and a leather fetish,” Stark teased as you pulled your favorite leather jacket back over your shoulders and adjusted your leather pants. “You’ll have plenty to bond over.”

“Yeah? And what’s your fetish, Stark?” You teased, but he just laughed.

“None of your business.”

“For now?” You joked.

“Forever,” Stark closed as he swung the door open to the roof revealing blue sky and a jet blacker than Onyx.

“Wow…” Peter whispered in awe, his mouth slightly agape as he seemed to forget about any fears he might’ve had towards you, as you nodded stoically in approval at your ride. “That’s the famous Quinjet. I heard it once held Loki’s evil staff thing, you know the one he used in New York.”

“That’s true,” Stark admitted. “But it also once held Clint after a bad night with the wrong seafood, so…she’s been through a lot.”

You and Peter glanced at each other before following Stark aboard the legendary aircraft. It wasn’t long before the jet set off for Berlin, flying to meet ‘the rest of the intellectuals’ as Stark put it.

“So, you’re still in high school? That sucks,” you blurted out, not exactly looking for a fight, just entertainment. Peter seemed like a good guy. Being blunt was just the way you always started conversations.

“It’s not bad,” Peter shrugged. “You?”

“Never been. How does it compare to The Breakfast Club?”

“Um, not much,” Peter laughed. “The cliques exist, just maybe not as defined as the characters in that movie. A bit overexaggerated if you ask me.”

“Alright, but humor me, then,” you grinned, leaning towards Peter. “Which character would you be if you were in the Club?”

“Huh…” Peter trailed off. You could tell he was actually thinking about the question instead of just brushing it off like most people do when you ask questions. Why can no one just sit down and have a conversation anymore? It’s like you have to be thrown in mortal danger just to meet someone with half a brain these days. “I don’t really know actually. I’m just…me. I get to school, I do my work, I have friend…s…” Peter rambled, making you giggle.

Hold up. Giggle?

“And I also fight crime on the side. No big deal. Just protect Queens from all danger. Don’t know any Club member who can do that. So, I guess I’d say nobody. But, I will say that I know an Allison, emo, gothic type. She sits with Ned and I at lunch because she says she has no one else. Sound familiar?”

“Vaguely familiar,” you echoed in agreement. “So, you’re already the hero-type, then? Some experience being Superman?”

“Uh…yeah! Yeah, totally! I’ve been doing this for a while now,” Peter nodded furiously.

“Which Superman moment has been your best so far?”

“Oh, uh…” Peter hesitated. You could tell he was scrambling for something to offer. He was too much. “I, uh, once helped an old lady cross the street…that was pretty nice…”

“For sure,” you half-agreed, quickly getting bored again.

“I mean, it was after I stopped a semi-truck from crashing into her at the intersection,” Peter continued, bringing your attention back.

“Better,” you pointed out with a nod.

“She couldn’t remember if red meant go or stop, and she needed to get bread at the store, so-”

“Yeah, uh huh, that’s great. Can you communicate with spiders?” you interrupted, throwing Peter off entirely.

“No, no, not really,” Peter shook his head with another nervous laugh.

“Why did you make your suit red?”

“I…like…red?”

“Do you have a web fetish? Like being tied up in webbing, or…”

“No…why would anyone want sticky webs…?”

“Believe me, any fetish you can come up with, someone out there has it, or wants to have it.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Peter asked while shaking his head, still miffed by your rapid-fire. You just rolled your eyes and leaned back in your seat, folding your fingers over your seatbelt as you let your eyelashes meet your cheeks.

“Sure, sure. Avoid my questions. Super cool,” you joked.

“Why are you doing this?” Peter questioned in almost a whisper. It wasn’t a malicious question, he was genuinely confused. But you were naturally defensive.

“You know, the same question could go for you, Hometown Hero,” you retorted. “You save old ladies and rescue cats from trees. What are you doing in the middle of an Avenger’s pissing contest?”

“Well…Mr. Stark needs me, and…and if I can help, then why would I not?”

“But what exacty are you helping with?” you demanded, letting the silence fall into place, not even opening your eyes becuase you knew you got him.

“…um…well, I can’t really protect my neighbohood, you know, look out for the little guy, if I’m arrested for doing it,” Peter explained, sparking your interest, but you just kept your eyes closed and hummed. “If Captain America keeps doing what he’s doing and disrespecting boundaries, then gets arrested…that makes me a criminal. Me?! I mean, I’ve never done anything against the law…well, I mean I missed first period last week because I stopped this guy who I thought was stealing someone’s bike…turns out it was his bike…but whatever. I’m just trying to help. I just…I just want to make life a little bit better for the people who deserve it. The small things.”

Well, you didn’t expect that. You opened your eyes to find Peter looking directly at you, all the genuinity of his words clear in his eyes. You almost couldn’t believe it. Maybe this guy was the real deal…but you still doubted it.

“Money,” you spit out as you leaned back and closed your eyes again.

“What?”

“You asked why I’m doing this,” you answered, “I’m doing this for the money.”

“Are you sure about that?” Peter asked quietly, and suddenly, you got really guilty. Yes, in this situation, it was completely and totally about the money, but you’ve had these powers almost your entire life, not once (besides saving the two yahoos that got you into this mess) had you ever helped someone other than yourself and your sister. You didn’t trust people, so why in the fuck would you ever help them?

But that mistrust was formed years ago. Maybe it was time for a change in perspective. Maybe Peter had the right idea.

It didn’t matter because before you could answer, Tony announced that they were about to land and meet “Team Tony.” Egotistical motherfucker…

“So, you just…made a suit for me…thinking I’d join your squad, just because…?” You slowly asked Tony, confusion painted all over your face as Natasha snickered to herself with Col. Rhodes. “You decided to figure out Peter’s, a high school student’s, measurements by watching a video…just for fun?”

“Well, I’m not going to let you walk out there in flammable clothing,” Tony defended. “Gonna take a wild guess and say that that’s not genuine leather.”

“Thrift store. I don’t know what it’s fucking made out of,” you huffed, looking Tony up and down. “Just becuase you make fun of my clothing doesn’t make what you did any less creepy and weird, Leatherface.”

“Hey, this might be the thing that saves your life.”

“Oh, you mean saving my life from the mortal danger you’re putting me in?”

“You chose to be here, remember? I mean, kid, you remember, right?” Tony asked Peter, who slowly nodded his head, avoiding your eye contact at all costs. “See? You decided to get on this jet, so suit up. We’ll meet you outside.”

“And then what?”

“And then we talk to Cap,” Rhodey interjected. “If we can get him to stop this thing before it starts, then that’s what we’ll do. I’m not here to fight. I’d rather be getting a nice brunch back in New York, but no…Cap just had to go off on his own and just-”

“We know, Rhodey,” Natasha huffed, obviously tired of what seems like another bout of Rhoday’s monalogue. “We really know.”

“But what about (Y/N) and I?” Peter asked. “What are we gonna do?”

“You are going to stay far, far, very super far out of the way of the fight, if that’s what things come to,” Tony commanded, rubbing his temples. “Just keep them confined to the airport. Web em’ up. Do whatever spider-boys do in a fight.”

“Got it,” Peter nodded, but clearly he didn’t get it.

“And you,” Tony continued, pivoting on his heel towards you who was scrolling through Tony’s Twitter account, finding his tweets to be almost as annoying as him. “You are going to leave your phone in the jet, and stay by my side. I trust you a bit more than him, but not by much.”

“That’s unnecessary,” you retorted with your eyes still glued to the screen that Tony stole and tossed to Col. Rhodes who stored it in his suit. “Well then,” you whispered in mock offense as Tony squatted in front of you to level his eyes with yours.

“You are going to stay out of the way with Spider-boy until I call for you, do you hear me?”

“No,” you deadpanned. Tony just stared at you until, he put his face in his hands.

“…I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” Tony moaned as Natasha, rolling her eyes as she did it, put her hand on his shoulder, and mouthed, just do it, to you.

“Alright, fine. I will stay off to the side until things get ugly,” you sighed. “Duly noted. Give me a minute to change, and I’ll meet you all outside.”

“Great!” Tony beamed, immediately standing up with a smile on his face. “Just make sure to tie up your hair. Don’t want any impromptu scalping in the jet. Kinda gross and messy if you ask me,” Tony explained casually before leaving with the rest of the team who just shrugged at you as your jaw hit the floor.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a fucking minute!” You started to yell, but Tony shut the back doors on you before you could finish. In the silence, you let out a frusturated yell and kicked the door…like that’s gonna help, you moron.

You just needed to keep your head on straight for the next few hours, then you could be on your merry way with a pocketful of something other than lint. Just a few more hours and maybe you could stay in a place better than a Motel6 that you paid for with someone’s stolen credit card. Just a few more hours…

And with that motivating mantra in mind, you marched up to the suit that Tony had created for you and…give me a second…hold on, just wait…is there a zipper on this thing?…whoa, hey!…what that fuck?…it’s magnetic?…didn’t see that coming…alright…that’s snug…but in a good way…shit, if I look half as good as I feel, then call me Lara fucking Croft…I mean, I’ve never worn anything that fit as perfect as this in my entire life…I think I’m in love with it…

“I hate it,” you spit at Tony as you finally found the button that opened the back doors of the jet to let you rejoin your new cult.

“No, you don’t. It’s perfect,” Tony dismissed you, knowing damn well that he wouldn’t create anything less than perfection. But you were determined to ruin his day without ruining your paycheck. It was only fair by that point. “Cap and his band of misfits are about to board their chopper that’s lined up on the North Wing of the airport. Rhodey, Nat, and I will do the talking while you two, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, take cover. Vision and T’challa’s waiting in the wings as well. I don’t want to see either of you, until I have to. Got it?” You immediately raised your hand, and Stark took in a deep breath. “Just nod if you understand-”

“But I have a question,” you replied innocently as Stark covered his face and held his hand out to motion for you to speak. “Which one of us is Tweedle Dee and who is Dum? It’s a pressing issue.”

Slowly, Stark raised his face from his hand, rage rattling deep in his bones, but he kept it together…sort of. “Just…!” Stark yelled as he pointed towards where you and Peter were to hide as you both scrambled behind the plane, yourself laughing the entire way. It wasn’t until you were in hiding that you fell onto the ground in a fit of laughter while Peter tried to get you to shut up.

“Alright, alright, geez,” you gave in, finally letting Peter help you to your feet as he sighed in relief. “What gives, Mr. Robot. Stark reprogram you with a new brainwashing chip in that suit of yours? I mean, shit, man. Lighten up.”

“I can’t lighten up, (Y/N),” Peter echoed nervously. “Look, you’re not the only one who has things to lose if this goes bad. Even if we do fight today, and somehow I end up hurt…or worse…my Aunt May has gone through enough. I don’t want to know what would happed to her if I didn’t come back home.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about that becuase you’d be dead,” you answered with a shrug as Peter just stared at you in shock, but you just shook your head. “Dude, the hell are you smoking? Do you really think Captain America is gonna let a fifteen year-old, bright-futured kid like you get hurt? Not if his Spangled Ass depended on it. This isn’t a war, Peter. This is running an errand for Stark. We’re just here to confine the issue, then we get paid. Done. So, stop worrying so much and help me ruin Stark’s day.”

“Again…what?” Peter asked, getting whiplash for a second time from you.

“He’s an egotistical maniac, and yeah, he might be helping me after I help him. Symbiosis. Blah, blah, blah. But, here’s the thing: I still hate him.”

“You don’t actually hate the suit do you?”

“I’d binge Netflix in this thing and be buried in my grave still sitting on my couch with the built in AC on. Now, Operation Snark the Stark, or nah?”

“You’re weird,” Peter responded after a long pause while you put your hand to your chest and fluttered your eyelashes, dramatically flipping your hair with your other hand.

“Why, thank you,” you acknowledged proudly. “I’m so glad you’ve noticed. Good to see that your common sense is intact. That kind of intuition will be useful in coming up with an evil plan. Like Hannibal Lecter…hello, Clarice,” you whispered seductively close to Peter who just gulped, then narrowed his eyebrows.

“Wait…isn’t the line, ‘well, Clarice’?” Peter asked.

“Um…no,” you argued. “That is, and always will be, one of my favorite movies of all time. I think I’d know what the line is, you Wanna-Be Movie Buff.”

“Wanna-Be…? Oh, come on-”

“I mean, you’re just like those nerds who say the line isn’t Luke, I am your father. Like, yes. Yes, it is. There’s merch for that shit. I’ve seen it at Target.”

It was as if time had slowed when the words left your mouth, a look crossed over Peter’s face that you had been itching for since the moment you met him: confused rage. Like a two-year old throwing a tantrum in the middle of a comic book store, Peter Parker, for all intents and purposes, lost his fucking mind.

“Whoa! Hey! That is too far, (Y/N)!” Peter whisper-yelled, still in fear of losing his brand deal with Stark, but angry enough to stop paying attention to Stark’s conversation with Rogers. “I have taken so much from you over the last few hours, but this is where I draw the line! It is a common misconception among a lot of people, including Star Wars fans. But only the people who really care to check their facts know the real line, which is-”

“Luke, I am your father,” you breathed into your hand as Peter leaned heavily against the stairlift that you were both stationed behind, subsequently taking you on a nerd journey that you would never forget…and love every second of…becuase you’re teasing him and that’s what you do to people…not because you like him…who said that?

Peter let out another frusturated groan and continued to demolish your bullshit claims one after the other and that was fine. The point wasn’t to stump your victims, it was just to make them dance. Creating entertainment where there was no entertainment is your go-to. You’ve had quite a bit of practice. Honestly, you’re still surprised that you’re not dead from this risky game.

In the midst of your laughter you felt an angry buzz in your ear which you swatted at it unwittingly until you realized it was the earpiece that Stark had given to you. You wanted to roll your eyes and ignore it, but the buzzing only seemed to be getting more intense to where even Peter started to notice. Quickly, you shushed Peter until you heard, son of a bitch. Underoos! I bring on two loudmouth, fearlessly reckless liabilities who love nothing more than to fight over nothing, and now they choose to be quiet. Underooos! Underoos! I can’t believe this…you’re embarassing me, kid…

“Shit, shit, shit!” Peter scrambled, rushing to pull his mask over his face to where it hung awkwardly loose in all the wrong places. “How do I look?”

“Like a mistake,” you answered, but kindly shifted his mask back into place anyway, then pushed him towards where Stark, Rogers, Rhodes, and Nat were stood having their arguement, waiting for Stark’s secret weapon. “That’s your cue. Now go! Jazz hands. It’s showtime!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Peter huffed, shaking out his hands and cracking his neck before he quickly looked back at you. “Thanks, (Y/N).” Then, he was off, his web slinging him over Captain America’s head to steal his shield with an 8/10 landing on a plane just a few feet away from the group.

Again, not bad, not bad.

But, you were about to do so much better…

armoredsoftie: #this was so refreshing#instead of the...

Mon, 21 May 2018 02:36:25 -0400

armoredsoftie:

#this was so refreshing #instead of the usual #why do you want to save this planet #‘BeCaUsE iT Is ThE rIgHT ThiNg tO Do’#but instead #‘BECAUSE ILL DIE TOO??? Dont want that’

lmao

yourstarboymedo:This is the best Marvel edit I’ve ever seen...

Sun, 20 May 2018 23:18:09 -0400

yourstarboymedo:

This is the best Marvel edit I’ve ever seen WOW!! ❤️

I was crying. I was screaming. I was smiling so hard my cheeks are sweating from the workout. Anyone else inspired?

starkked: Avengers: Infinity War | Talk Back TV Spot

Mon, 14 May 2018 14:25:26 -0400

starkked:

Avengers: Infinity War | Talk Back TV Spot

simonlewhiss: shuri constantly teases peter about how much more advanced wakanda is and he usually...

Sun, 08 Apr 2018 16:53:04 -0400

simonlewhiss:

shuri constantly teases peter about how much more advanced wakanda is and he usually can’t tell that she’s kidding. he’ll be like “i should get some sleep now” and she’s like “you still have to sleep? lmfao” and peter lays awake trying to figure out if that was a joke

Chapter 2: Smash (Avengers x Fem!Reader)

Fri, 06 Apr 2018 01:32:21 -0400

~Part 6~ The Life of an Avenger: Ragnarok

Summary: If being thrown into the Contest of Champions wasn’t bad enough, the reader must now battle her way out of an Asgardian family drama that she didn’t know she would ever be a part of. Welcome to Sakaar.

Words: 14,102 (didn’t realize how long this thing was until I pasted it into Word…shit…)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, Ragnarok spoilers**

MASTERLIST | Chapter 1

(Y/N) pounded with every ounce of strength that she had left in her on the glass that held her prisoner within the walls of Sakaar’s Contest of Champions stadium. There was Thor. He was right there, directly in front of her, and he didn’t even notice her wild attempts to gain his attention. The idiot was too preoccupied threatening his captors that only laughed at the poor bastard as the chair that held him hostage continued on it’s merry way past her cell.

But, that’s okay. It may be a selfish thought, but at least she knew that someone else was there with her, whether he knew that she was there, or not. It was something.

Now, she just had to figure out how to get to him and, unusually for her, how to escape from her cell without outside help which wasn’t really an option here. So, as much as she hated to admit it, she would just have to be patient and bide her time until her next battle.

Patience. Fuck, this was going to be painful.

Well, her first attempt was a total bust and now she had a new electric friend on her neck.

Painful was right. This is bullshit.

(Y/N) was meditating her seething anger away on her cot when the familiar thud signaled the approach of a new visitor, but (Y/N) remained in her mindful state. Eyes closed and Steve’s face clear in her thoughts. She smiled at the bright blue of his eyes that she missed so much.

“Meditating, huh?” An Asgardian voice sloshed as drops of liquid hit the concrete around her like a hurricane. “Can never really figure out how to do that. It’s just so…boring.”

“Alcohol doesn’t help much,” (Y/N) sassed with her eyes still closed, then sighed. “But, who the hell am I to judge. What’d you bring?”

“Svarti dauoi, AKA Black Death,” Valkyrie slurred with a wink that just looked more like a seizure, but continued on. “And, also, an opportunity to leave this dreadful dungeon,” Valkyrie offered, handing (Y/N) one of the midnight bottles of posion in her hand. “So, drink up. We have a long night ahead of us, and I don’t want you lagging.”

(Y/N) opened her eyes into suspicious slits. “Where are we going?”

“You know, you question things too much.”

“It’s how I’ve survived this far.”

“Well, I’ve survived on alcohol and not giving a fuck. You in, or what?”

(Y/N) stared at Valkyrie for a moment, not understanding why the girl had taken an immediate interest in her, but decided that she was too tipsy to hatch an actual plan against her and that this was the perfect opportunity to scope out what she was up against, so with a long swig of Black Death, (Y/N) smirked.

“Fuck it. Let’s do this shit.”

“Skal til drottningarinnar (cheers to the Queen)!” Valkyrie shouted as she grabbed (Y/N) roughly by the arm and dragged her through the open doorways of (Y/N)’s cell, spilling more booze as she went.

“So, uh…does anyone know you’re letting me out, or…?”

“I’ve brought in more contestants than the Grandmaster has room for on this godforsaken planet,” Valkyrie laughed, then glanced back towards (Y/N) with a grin. “I basically own this place.”

“Got it. Permission is for pussies. I’m totally on board,” (Y/N) joked, making Valkyrie laugh. “But seriously, where is this long night gonna start?”

“A bloodthirsty battle of the ages…or whatever the Grandmaster is marketing this stupid cockfight as,” Valkyrie explained as they rounded another corner that led them into a large garage filled with all sorts of aircrafts, but Valkyrie made a beeline for a black and white pattered ship, shouting at (Y/N) who was caught gazing wondrously around the hanger, “Hurry up, Freezer Burn! The fight won’t wait for your slow, daydreaming ass!”

“Hey, I’m drinkin’ here!” (Y/N) yelled back as she knocked back her bottle and climbed on-board, fingers latched around the handles to step inside as Valkyrie clumsily fell into her driver’s seat and started the engine. Before the doors could even fully close, Valkyie spluttered the ship to life and rocketed it towards the sky in a very short, but bumpy ride directly above the Contest of Champions arena. The backdoors slid down to reveal an overhead view of a ring of colorful crowd members that could be heard even amongst the mist that hung lowly in the sky around Valkyrie’s ship. (Y/N) looked beyond the stadium to the city around her and…wow, it was actually beautiful. Much like a far more technologically savvy New York City. A futuristic, very Tony Stark NYC, complete with flying saucers. The lights flickered in many of the windows across the city, but (Y/N) could tell that many of the lights of the inner circle homes were out due to the vast attendance of battle-goers below.

(Y/N) tried to make sense of any pathways out of the city, but all at once, it hit her. The only way off this planet, obviously, was to steal a ship, and navigate it through space…because that was totally do-able for someone who could barely parallel park a fucking car, and don’t even get Steve started on her motorcycle skills…becuase she didn’t have any. Oh yeah, she was screwed. But before she could dwell on that daunting task, Valkyrie plopped down next to her and let her legs dangle freely off the side of her ship along with (Y/N).

“So, I bet you’re wondering why I brought you up here,” Valkyrie plainly stated.

“Nah, I’m just in this for the free booze, but the floor is yours anyway.”

“I haven’t met anyone for some time that has the strength and determination that you have, and…guess, I’m just curious. Where’d it all come from?”

“Where did what come from?”

“That power of yours. It’s not typically a…you know, normal thing for people to be able to turn other people into frost giants, and I just want to know.”

(Y/N) pondered the question for a second, but decided being vague was probably her best option. “Got caught up with some bastards on my home planet who were smarter than they thought they were and created a monster, AKA me.”

“How did they do that?”

“Pounds of dry ice and Gatorade. Satisfied?”

“Not nearly. When did this happen to you and what in the bloody hell is Gatorade?”

Thankfully, the blaring horns below announcing the start of the fight began before (Y/N) could bullshit another answer to Valkyrie’s questions.

The crowd went berzerk as the shimmering hologram of the Grandmaster lit up the arena in all his glittering glory.

“Wow! Well, look at all of you,” the Grandmaster greeted, his charisma making the crowds grow even more restless. It sickened (Y/N) just looking at his smug, hologramatic face. “What a show! What a night! Who’s having fun?”

“Definitely not whoever has to deal with you on a daily basis you sack of shit,” (Y/N) mumbled into her bottle as she tipped it back again.

“You know, he can’t hear you,” Valkyrie laughed, making (Y/N) shrug.

“He will one of these days, as loud and bold as his outfit choices. I wonder how long he spends looking in the mirror every morning.”

“Not enough if he came out looking like that,” Valkyrie answered back.

“And now, without further ado,” the Grandmaster continued, “it’s main event time. Making his first appearance, although quite promising. Got a few tricks up his sleeve. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…Lord of Thunder.”

And holy shit, there he was. The blonde idiot in the flesh…or in the battle armor, as (Y/N) should say. Thor marched towards the center of the ring as the crowds booed all around him, much like they did when (Y/N) stumbled into the arena. She couldn’t really tell from the distance she was at, but it seemed like Thor was either bleeding profusely from the side of his head where he had just recieved his haircut, or he got a sick war-paint artist. She hoped for the latter, but highly doubted it. Those blades that the old man were wielding were wicked compared to most hairdressers that have only a pair of scissors in their artillery. Not that guy. That guy was extra as hell. Wow, who knew alien battles-to-the-death could be so cruel? You learn something new every day.

(Y/N) involuntarily let a gasp escape her lips as Thor walked through the gates, a small detail Valkyrie wouldn’t let go unnoticed.

“You know him, or something?” Valkyrie asked (Y/N), making her bite her lip. “You totally do! Well, shit. I mean, he seems like a bit of a prick to be in your crowd, but I’ve seen stranger, I guess.”

“He is a prick,” (Y/N) interjected with a sigh. “But, he’s a prick who’s saved my life. I have to get him out of here.” (Y/N) paused, her eyes finding Valkyie’s and shrugged. “I’m not really trying to hide the fact that I’m going to escape.”

“And I’m not trying to stop you,” Valkyrie answered, then returned her attention to the battle. Not that (Y/N) had ever felt threatened by Valkyrie, but she’d never really thought of her as an ally either…until now. Unless this was an act to get information out of her…but what the hell could (Y/N) offer a drunk alien warrior princess from space? Pretty sure Valkyrie ten-ups (Y/N) in every department. So…ally?

“Watch his fingers, they make sparks,” the Grandmaster teased as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Alright, this is it. Let’s get ready to welcome this guy.”

(Y/N) leaned forward in anticipation as bouts of fireworks exploded around her and Valkyrie in puffs of green dust like oversized paintball guns. She needed to see who she would have to fight to get out of this place if Thor was unsuccessful…or even if he was successful. And that was when she realized that she was in a position to lose either way. Thor wins, he’s free and (Y/N) gets left behind. Thor loses…well, that’s not going to happen. (Y/N) had fought with Thor for over four years by that point. There was not a single being that could possibly rival the God of Thunder besides (Y/N) herself and…

That’s when she heard it. The familiar sound of furious banging that shattered the entire arena in a frenzy of chaotic fury that only one creature could possibly possess.

“He’s the reigning…he’s the defending…Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you…”

“No fucking way…” (Y/N) whispered in numbing awe and horror as she finally convinced herself that she must absolutely be dreaming. Becuase there was no possible way in hell that he was there, yet somehow…

“The Incredible…Hulk!” And there he was. Green, angry, and in full battle armor despite (Y/N) and everyone else on that entire planet knowing fully well that he did not need it, becuase that guy was a literal monster incarnate that could tear a bulldozer in half with just a jockstrap on…actually, on second thought, thank the universe for that battle armor.

Bruce’s…no, no, no…the Hulk’s roars echoed throughout the stadium that burst into wild excitement at the notion of the “Champion’s” bloody return as he burst through the gates in dramatic glory. And, honestly, (Y/N) had to admit…the view was nice from her safe little, alcohol filled spot in the sky.

She lounged back to get comfortable and took a satsfied swig. “Last time there was a fight between these two, I was in the middle of it…this is a nice change. Do you have snacks up here?”

“So, you know the Big Guy, too?”

(Y/N) nodded, putting her diimples on full display as her head swam in glitter and her stomach began to fill with that happy, pre-drunk flutter. “I’ve been around.”

“Apparently,” Valkyrie appreciated with a grin. “And Blondie knows the Big Guy too, then.”

In response, Thor suddenly shouted from below in an elated, “Yes!” that completely shut down the entire crowd who just glanced at each other in confusion.

“Right. Well, that answers that, then,” Valkyrie responded with raised eyebrows as she turned to her right and pulled out a drawer full of all kinds of wrapped goods. “The choice is yours, Ice Queen.”

“If we’re going to be here all night, first rule first, don’t call me that. It’s gross and makes me want to stab myself with a spork.”

“Don’t know what a spork is, but I can definitley stab you with a sword if you’d like.”

“That’s more of a Tuesday night occasion, so I’ll pass,” (Y/N) teased as her hand hovered over a blue pack of something that resembled Frito’s and Valkyrie slightly shook her head until (Y/N)’s hand moved over a pink pack of something that looked more like Dorito’s.

“Oh, so the choice is mine?”

“Only if it’s the right choice.”

“Facist,” (Y/N) accused as Thor approached Hulk, a huge, dumb smile lighting up his face. “Look at this poor, dumb bastard. You gotta love him, though.”

“Do I?” Valkyrie questioned. “Becuase I’d rather be burned alive by a dragon.”

“He’s just optimistic…and dumb, but mostly optimistic. He’s worth a try, I promise.” Valkyrie gave (Y/N) a disbelieving look before returning her gaze down to Thor who was proudly shouting something at his opponent.

(Y/N) had no idea what Thor was saying to Hulk, but obviously it didn’t work in his favor as Hulk launched into the air in attack mode, both fists raised to smash Thor to bits like a meteor about to collide with another meteor.

And it was fucking awesome.

Hulk body slammed the little Asgardian Ken doll that went hurtling back across the stadium, steadying himself as he pulled two blades from behind his muscular back. Thor was getting his pretty, little ass kicked until he pulled one of Hulk’s hammers that was impaled in the wall next to Thor’s head from it’s place and slammed the green beast around the stadium in a spectacle of damage and destruction.

“Damn, these are good. What the hell are they?” (Y/N) commented distractedly about the snacks to Valkyrie who just nodded knowingly, tapping her finger to her temple.

“This is why you shouldn’t question me. I know more about food than you know about yourself.”

“Well played…you know, I think this blood bath would be better with a soundtrack to really amp up the energy.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Valkyrie beamed as she pressed a button on the remote attatched to her wrist. Immediately, “Moonage Daydream,” by David Bowie started playing and (Y/N) lolled her head back with a content sigh.

“Are you trying to seduce me, or something?” (Y/N) joked as Valkyrie awkwardly laughed, but quickly composed herself.

“This weird guy I met on Xandar tried to impress me with his mixtape,” Valkyrie explained with a shrug. “Gotta admit, I was impressed…by the music, and only the music.” (Y/N) reached out and fist bumped Valkyrie as Thor slowly held out his hand to Hulk who lay in a heap under the wreckage he had just created with his own heaving body. (Y/N) recognized the gesture and burst out laughing, snorting hysterically at Thor’s attempt at the thing only Natasha and (Y/N) herself, could actually accomplish.

“What? What did I miss? Did someone get mutilated? Goddamit!” Valkyrie complained as (Y/N) grabbed her arm, still laughing her ass off.

“No, no! Holy shit, it’s just that…he’s just so…it won’t work becuase he’s…oh, my fuck, he’s an idiot!” (Y/N) howled, Valkyrie just laughed at (Y/N)’s attempts to drunkenly explain why she’s laughing. “He’s trying to calm down Hulk…but there’s no way…the sun is going down…oh, shit…here he goes! Watch this!”

And just as (Y/N) anticipated, Hulk launched himself into Thor, grabbing the god by the legs as he thrashed Thor against the pavement like a child throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of a grocery store. (Y/N) and Valkyrie lost it, (Y/N) almost rolling off the side of the ship before Valkyrie caught her by the waist and pulled her back, but (Y/N) didn’t even notice. Both were teary eyed as they continued to watch the fight, popping snacks into the air for each other to catch while the pissing contest that (Y/N) knew too well, ensued below.

It wasn’t until Thor was rammed into the ground and Hulk was over the poor guy’s limp body as he rained down his fists with an absolute vengeance did (Y/N) finally raise her awareness. She sat up in shock, a cold sweat forming on her brow as her breath caught in her chest. She knew Thor wasn’t going to die, but she felt like she had to do something. Ignoring Valkyrie’s questions, (Y/N) closed her eyes and gathered any strength left in her and focused it towards Thor, opening them to a quick blip of silver magic that blocked Hulk’s final smash into Thor’s face.

Valkyrie shook her head dissappointedly at (Y/N), who just looked down at the palms of her hands in her lap. “Don’t judge me. I had to do it.” Valkyrie just threw her hands up in defense.

“Hey, I have no room to judge since I helped you cheat during your first fight, so…there’s not really any ‘fair’ in this circus. No one will notice.”

“Well, inconspicuous was what I was going for, so thanks,” (Y/N) joked, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she stuck it out at the Asgardian.

Before Valkyrie could stick out hers back, there was an electrical charge that filled the air, sending both of the warrior’s senses in a frenzy. They both peered over the edge of the ship to see Thor burst into a ball of blue lightning that extended from his fingertips and over his sweat-stricken skin. As blinding as the spectacle was, not a single patron of the event could keep their eyes off of the god, including a suddenly very intrigued Valkyrie.

“Worth a chance, you say?” Valkyrie whispered curiously as she leaned closer to the action. (Y/N) just winked calmly at the warrior and turned back to the fight, despite the screaming in her head demanding answers for where the hell Thor got this extra boost in his lighting-rod capabilities, becuase she needed to get herself some of that shit.

In epic, superhero, pissing-contest-style, Thor and Hulk approached each other in head-on rampages that rammed into each other like cross streams in a light saber battle (except the light sabers are only metaphorical euphemisms). And like fans watching a cage match, Valkyrie and (Y/N) went wild with the crowds below, cheering and howling and drinking in the wake of the explosion.

It wasn’t until Thor was about to beat the hell out of Hulk (maybe) that the god froze up in a seizure and fell to the ground in front of the confused beast that (Y/N) and Valkyrie sobered up.

“What the hell was that?” (Y/N) questioned. “Did he…did he have a stroke? I didn’t even know gods could have a stroke!”

“It wasn’t a stroke,” Valkyrie answered, sighing as she tapped the device on (Y/N)’s neck. “It was this thing. The Grandmaster calls it an Obedience Disk.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows shot up in shock as her face contorted in disgust at the name. “It was…that was…so that’s gonna happen to me if I don’t…behave?” (Y/N) choked out, setting her chin stubbornly as she tried to pry the thing from her neck. “Oh, hell no! I am not about to get fried like a KFC chicken wing!”

(Y/N)’s eyes watered as her fingernails tried to dig their way between the metal and her skin, but the pain was unbearable amongst her cries. Valkyrie quickly grabbed (Y/N) by both of her wrists and made (Y/N) focus on her brown eyes.

“Stop,” Valkyrie ordered, not much unlike the tone Steve uses when (Y/N) is about to go off the deep end and he has to bring her back to reality. “Don’t freak out. Just relax.” Valkyrie let go of (Y/N)’s wrists and turned her attention to examining the device. After only a few seconds, (Y/N) felt the cold metal detach from her skin, and hell did it feel good. The tugging sensation finally fell away…along with any doubts she had that Valkyrie couldn’t be a trustworthy ally.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) mumbled, letting her fingers touch her bare skin where the device used to be, smiling softly at the warrior who nodded back in affirmation. Just before (Y/N) started talking again, she caught a glimpse of green in mid-air behind Valkyrie’s head. It was as if time had slowed, but in that moment, (Y/N) could swear that the Hulk was looking directly at her and the only dumb thing she could think to do was to awkardly wave at him until he hurtled back to the ground below where he dived-bombed Thor and, uh…let’s just say, it wasn’t pretty. Taking a moment to grimace, (Y/N) and Valkyrie watched the guards carry Thor’s limp body through the gates and outside the arena while Hulk pranced around the stadium like an oversized show pony.

“You know that I’m going to escape whether you help me out of here, or not,” (Y/N) blurted out, her eyes still taking in the bursts of green around the Big Guy himself, a vision of a creature truly in his element. “I just think it would be faster and a hell of a lot cleaner if you did help.”

“I have a well-paying job here, and I intend on keeping it.”

“If I, somehow, got out of this place, how would you be losing any business? You didn’t bring me here. As far as Thor and Hulk…well, you already got paid for them.”

“What if we get caught?”

“Here’s the trick: we don’t,” (Y/N) advised coyly with a mischievious cock of her eyebrow.

“What would I get out of this arrangement?”

“Uh…friendship?” (Y/N) offered hesitantly, then huffed at Valkyrie’s unmoved expression. “Alright then, what do you want?”

“A well-paying job where I can get drink and beat people up,” Valkyrie posed, putting her finger to her chin. “Oh, wait! I already have that.” Before (Y/N) could argue, Valkyrie laughed, punching (Y/N) playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you and your stupid friends get out of this place.”

“Really?” (Y/N) spluttered, a bit miffed by the sudden turnaround.

“Yeah, sure,” Valkyrie shrugged as she took a swig, wiping her mouth on the back of her arm. “Why the hell not? Could be interesting trying to sneak out a Hulk. If we pull this off, I’ll even consider quitting drinking.” (Y/N) just stared disbelievingly at the warrior until she hunched over laughing. “Yeah, no way I’ll ever quit drinking!”

“Wow,” (Y/N) nodded knowingly, “we really do have a lot in common.”

“Yeah? Well, here’s another one: we both want to talk to the Big Guy,” Valkyrie proposed, then laughed spitefully. “Only difference is that you’re a prisoner, and I’m free.”

“Must be nice,” (Y/N) retorted sarcastically, scrunching up her nose.

“All that means is that we’re going to have to either be extra careful about sneaking you in under the 24/7 security monitorining system, or…” Valkyrie pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “We act your way in.”

“You mean, kink my way in,” (Y/N) interjected, blowing the wisps of hair from her face in exasperation at how much shit she has gotten herself into over the years. “But, whatever it takes to see him. I’m all in. Let’s get kinky…”

Valkyrie met (Y/N) in her cell about (as far as she could tell) a few hours later with handcuffs and a fake electroshock device that (Y/N) could tell was fake by the lack of incessant buzzing in her ear.

The girls faked their way through the stadium, (Y/N) trudging like a sullen dog about to enter the pound, and Valkyrie like the smug dogcatcher. It was a sight.

Once they rounded the final corner before entering Thor’s prison/penthouse/why-the-fuck-wasn’t-my-cell-this-nice-fuck-this-planet, they came upon two guards with spears crossed like an ‘X’ over the entrance.

With a smirk, Valkyrie leaned over to (Y/N) while unlocking her cuffs and whispered, “No cameras beyond this point. We’re in the clear.”

As (Y/N) twisted her free wrists, she smiled back at Valkrie and approached the guards from behind. With her index finger, (Y/N) tapped the left guard on the shoulder and asked, “So sorry to bother you, sir. But I have a quick question for you.” And as the guard turned to attack her, his face met (Y/N)’s fist in perfect synchronicity, knocking him out cold. Just as the other guard realized what was going on, (Y/N) wrapped her legs around the guard’s neck and threw him into the bright red wall next to him. Leaping soundly from the ground to her feet, (Y/N) dusted off her shoulders.

“Inciteful question,” Valkyrie chided, though her face read deep appreciation in the twitch of the corner of her mouth.

“Been working on it all day.”

“You know, I could’ve just sent them off-duty.”

“Yeah, but this was more fun,” (Y/N) shrugged as she walked forward into the room, immediately drawn to the liquor shelves in front of the skyline windows that displayed the city in all it’s backassed, industrialized-hazed-up glory as she extended her arms like Rafiki presenting Simba during the Circle of Life.

“(Y/N)?” A deep, accented voice questioned from the corner of the room, making both warrior’s heads jerk towards the noise. The familiarity turned (Y/N)’s head while irritation spurred Valkyrie into a twist of annoyance.

“Oh my God,” (Y/N) gasped as she turned to face Thor, then jutted her finger towards the shelf. “Did you see how much free booze this place has?”

Thor laughed, shaking his head in awe at his long-time friend. “Not enough for a warrior such as yourself,” he commented as (Y/N) walked over to embrace him, engulfed by his muscles. “How did you…how did you find me here?”

“Narcissistic much?” (Y/N) teased. “This wizard that Steve and I met in New York, Dr. Stephen Strange-”

“Oh! Oh, I know him!” Thor exclaimed like a teacher’s pet who’s just dying to let the teacher know that they know the right answer. “The strange wizard man with the red cloak! He willed Midgard beer from thin air!”

“Yes. Very David Blaine, Houdini-type shit, yes. So glad we’re on the same page about this one. Well, he sent me through a portal-”

“He sent me through a portal, too!” Thor shouted excitedly as (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Would you wait your turn?” (Y/N) huffed, making Valkyrie smirk. “Anyway, Strange sent me through a portal, but Loki pulled me into this realm rather than Asgard, that snivelling little prick.”

“You know, I wasn’t in Asgard…”

“Again with the narcism,” (Y/N) sighed dramatically, “Steve, Sam, and I weren’t going there for you. There was a, um…misunderstanding on Earth.”

“Misunderstanding?” Thor prodded, but (Y/N) just blinked at him and decided that now wasn’t really the time to get into the nitty gritty details of the Sokovia Accords.

“Yeah…anyway, so what’s been going on with you? Two years, huh? Wow. Where does the time go?” (Y/N) distracted, but Thor hardly noticed.

“Well, I’ve been…preoccupied,” Thor stated awkwardly just as something splashed in the corner of the room where a very large, very green, and very naked Hulk stepped out of a hot tub as he stepped across the center of the room for a towel. Thor, Valkyrie, and (Y/N) stood in states of utter shock.

“Did that just…did that just happen?” Valkyrie sputtered.

“What did I just witness?” (Y/N) whispered in horror.

“Why me?” Thor moaned into the palms of his hands. “I told you to keep the towel next to the hot tub, you Big Idiot!”

“This is what it feels like to watch a nasty subway accident,” (Y/N) croaked. “Or, like, seeing your parents have sex in the treehouse of your chldhood home…I don’t know where it all went wrong, but it’s definitely all sorts of wrong.”

“Babies,” Hulk accused as he perched himself on the edge of a large jawbone of what looked like the skull of a snake that made into a daybed for him.

“Hey! Maybe we wouldn’t be acting like this if you put some damn clothes on!” Valkyrie yelled at Hulk who just frowned and apologized solemnly to her until she walked over and punched him in the gut. “Oh, come on. I can’t stay mad at you, Big Guy.”

“Angry Girl, stays. Babies have to go,” Hulk bellowed, feigning defeat by Valkerie as she kicked him in the chest.

“Cry me a river, Meat Sack. You know me, you like me, all you gotta do is remember me,” (Y/N) proclaimed, stepping forward to allow Hulk a better look at her. Like Clifford the Big Green Dog, he cocked his head to the side at the little goddess, slowly recognizing the small smirk painting the dimples in her rosy, sweat-slickened cheeks and the brightness of her (Y/E/C) eyes as she raised her eyebrows at him. “You really gonna make me talk about sunsets and not hurting you? Because that last part will be a lie if you don’t recognize me.”

“Angrier Girl! From Earth!” Hulk shouted, gleefully clapping his large hands together with a thunder of laughter.

“Honestly,” (Y/N) shrugged to Thor and Valkyrie, “he’s not wrong.” And they both shrugged and nodded back, immediately freezing up when they saw the other agreeing with them. “Nice beads,” (Y/N) complimented the giant as he approached her. “Guess Mardi Gras treated you well this year, tits and all.”

“No Mardi Gras. Just winning,” Hulk answered, shaking the beads from around his neck at (Y/N) as she threw her hands up in defense.

“(Y/N),” Thor interrupted, gently pulling on her shoulder to face him. “I don’t have much time to explain, but I need your help in defeating my sister, Goddess of Death and stuff, from taking over Asgard and the rest of the nine realms. The Quinjet is down there in that junkyard,” Thor explained rapidly, pointing down into a canyon of garbage on the ground below, coincidentally close to the building they were in. “We just have to find the largest portal to Asgard, then destroy her. It will be dangerous and probably deadly, which I know are two of your favorite things, so…glad you’ve made it in time to join my team.” Thor grinned at (Y/N) who just stared wide-eyed at the god, slightly shaking her head.

“Alright, first off, I’m already part of your team-”

“No, no, no! This is a new team!” Thor argued hastily. “This is a, um…save Asgard and destroy my sister team. A uh…revenge team. The Revengers.”

“…fucking nailed it,” (Y/N) deadpanned, making Valkyrie snicker. “So, while you think of a better team name, why don’t you tell me a bit more about your sister, Hela.”

“You know her?” Thor asked in shock. “I didn’t even know about her until two days ago. The same day that I found that Loki is alive-”

“Knew that,” (Y/N) interjected quietly, further puzzling Thor.

“Met a wizard in New York-”

“Met him.”

“My father died-”

“Wait, what?” (Y/N) whispered. “How? Did she-”

“No, it wasn’t Hela. It was…it was just his time…I think…I think he will be okay, wherever he is. I just wish that he could’ve waited a bit longer, but when his time came, Hela was released and now she has come to reclaim what my father had, in her words, unfairly stolen from her…it doesn’t matter what my father has done. Asgard is my home and I will not let her burn it to the ground. So, who here is ready to join my team?” Dead silence. Hulk continued to throw a red ball against the window behind Thor while (Y/N) perched herself atop the jawbone bed in the corner and Valkyrie chugged an entire bottle of alcohol. Thor sighed pitifully, “I also lost my hammer.”

SMASH. Valkyrie’s empty bottle smashed to the floor as she smirked at Thor.

“Well, now I must join your bloody team,” she declared sarcastically as she turned on her heels to leave. “Come on, (Y/N). I think you and I deserve better company than this nutjob for our night out.”

“Odin is dead. Hela is free. Why would you not help (Y/N) and I defeat her?” Thor demanded, already factoring in that (Y/N) was “on his team.” She would’ve argued, but she knew he wasn’t wrong. Just a bit early on his assumption.

Valkyrie continued to walk out as Thor motioned towards (Y/N) who huffed and whispered harshly at him. “Hey, this one isn’t on me. I already got her to bring me to you. Mind picking up the slack?” Before Thor could whisper back, Valkyrie turned on both of them.

“If Hela’s back, then Asgard’s already lost,” Valkyrie insisted. (Y/N) could tell by her body language that this was not a subject Valkyrie wanted to think about, much less discuss. However, if a fight is needed, fears go out the window. That’s the name of war. “No matter who or how many fight, the war is over. I would accept that and move on.”

“How can you move on when your home is on the verge of it’s end?” (Y/N) called out from her perch. Valkyrie and Thor just stared at her, until she shrugged. “I know about the Valkyrie. I read a book. Look, I don’t know your life story, or who you really are, so please feel free to stop me when I’m wrong. You fought Hela already. It was a war few survived, and even less speak of. It’s a part of history that those a part of it either purposefully cover up to mask the guilt of Asgard’s bloody beginnings, or to hide the pain of what was lost in the fight for redemption of a family tension that poisoned the innocent citizens inside who had no role but to mend what they had not broken. I’m guessing you were in the second group…” (Y/N) alleged, following Valkyrie’s gaze out the window towards the metalic city below until the warrior began to speak.

“We were sent in by Odin to contain her while she tried to escape her banishment. The only reason I survived was because…I already faced her once when I believed in the throne, and it cost me everything,” Valkyrie revealed solemnly. “I refuse to be another pawn in the name of the throne. That’s what’s wrong with Asgard. The secrets, the whole golden sham.”

“I agree,” Thor proclaimed, grabbing at Valkrie’s arm, but her knife blocked his angle. The swiftness impressed (Y/N) as she let out a snort of appreciation. “That’s why I turned down the throne.”

“I thought it was because you wanted to be with Jane. But then she totally dumped you. Savage,” (Y/N) blurted out, making Thor groan.

“It was a mutual dumping!” Thor argued back as (Y/N) smiled to herself and Thor turned back to Valkyrie with a genuine sigh. “This isn’t about the crown. This is about the people, and they’re dying, and they’re your people too.”

“Forget it!” Valkyrie shoved Thor back with a grin. “Like apparently your girlfriend forgot about you.”

“Savage…” (Y/N) whispered conspicuously to Hulk who rolled over laughing.

“Okay,” Thor nodded respectfully. “Good.”

“Great,” Valkyrie agreed.

“Thank you!” Thor yelled, pointing up at (Y/N) who blew a kiss at him. “But more importantly, thank you,” Thor added to Valkyrie who scruched her eyebrows at him as he pulled a golden remote out from behind his back. Immediately, she exhaled defeatedly and rolled her eyes at him as he celebrated his victory. “Didn’t see that, did ya?” Thor clicked the button that released the electric buzzer that was attatched to his neck, letting the piece fall into the palm of his hand as he rolled his neck back and forth. “Ah, that’s better. Go ahead,” Thor continued to Valkyrie. “Stay here and enslave people for that lunatic. Keep drinking, keep hiding…but (Y/N) and I,” Thor vouched as he motioned for Hulk to toss him the red weighted ball, “…we choose to run towards our problems rather than away from them.”

“Well…it really depends on the day and the occasion. Like, I’ll drive for miles on Empty before dragging my starving car into a gas station. It’s not procarastination, just a really dangerous game of ‘Say, Uncle’ where hopefully I don’t die in the middle of nowhere…but, sure, this problem. Psshh! I’ll run headfirst into, no problem. My priorities are in definitely in check.”

“See. Let (Y/N) be an example,” Thor chastised Valkyrie as he tossed the ball between his hands and prepared to throw it through the window. “She is a real hero. She has no fear. She fights for what she knows is right, for the people who deserve it, becuase that’s what-”

SMACK. The ball whacked Thor straight in the face, bouncing off the window with ease, not a crack in the foundation.

“It’s nice to see that after everything you’ve been though, you can still take balls to the face like a champ,” (Y/N) pointed out, unmoved from her place on the jawbone. In the midst of Valkyrie’s snorts and Thor’s blank stare, (Y/N) just waved at him. “You’re doing great, sweetie. I’ll just follow you,” (Y/N) thumbs upped, then motioned for Thor to continue. Valkyrie straightened up, wiping the corners of her eyes.

“As you were saying, Lord of Thunder,” Valkyrie teased as Thor pointed between her and (Y/N).

“I refuse to take part in this banter. My people are depending on me, so I shall be going to their aid…becuase that’s what heroes do,” Thor proclaimed as he took off charging through the glass of the window to parkour down the sides of the buildings around the the tower they were in towards the Quinjet.

“Friend stay!” Hulk shouted in the wake of Thor’s escape.

“But, you weren’t friends like two minutes ago…” (Y/N) began to argue, but Hulk had already hurtled himself out of the building in chase of the God.

“Welp, guess that’s my cue,” (Y/N) huffed as she leaped off of her perch towards the shattered window, but before she could jump, Valkyrie took her hand.

“You don’t have to go after them,” Valkyrie dissuaded, her eyes heavy with guilt and desire. “Just stay here and we can both drink together until we die. Just like last night ago. You don’t have to risk your life for a lost cause. Your life isn’t worth the cost of losing the throne to that witch, it’s just not. I’ve seen too many perish at her will…I don’t want to lose another…ally,” Valkyrie professed, making (Y/N) smile.

“As heavenly as that sounds, I have two idiots to babysit,” (Y/N) joked back, squeezing Valkyrie’s hand before strutting to the edge of the building. “If you’d like to help out in killing that Wicked Bitch of the West, and I’m sure that you will…you know where to find us,” (Y/N) winked slyly, then weightlessly let her body be taken by gravity as she felt the giddy drop in her stomach bubble through her veins making her laugh, until she flipped upright and landed on her hands and feet like a panther. She dug her heels into the dirt and began to weave her way through the wreckage left in the wake of the Hulk’s rampage towards the Quinjet.

When (Y/N) reached the Quinjet, it wasn’t so much an aircraft any longer as it was scrapmetal. Peering straight through the gaping hole in the backside of the jet, (Y/N) saw Thor kneeling over a very panicked Bruce who was still a few shades greener than she would’ve prefered at that moment. However, once Bruce saw (Y/N) over Thor’s shoulder, relief washed over his features. She saw him mouth her name, but didn’t hear him as her attention turned to the rapid beat of footsteps coming from her right side. Just as her attacker reached her, (Y/N) ducked down, forcing the guard onto her back as she bodyslammed him into the dirt. Standing up, she ripped a long piece of metal off the damaged ship, slamming it into the side of the enemy’s head before it could attack her again. Throwing the metal to the side, (Y/N) ran her hand through her long hair and approached her boys.

“Nice escape plan,” (Y/N) teased, pointing towards the shattered remnants of the Quinjet around them. “The exposed wiring is a nice touch.”

“It was a good idea before this guy came barreling through here like a crazy person…Strongest Avenger my arse,” Thor muttered to himself while Bruce shakily got to his feet to pull (Y/N) in for a long-awaited embrace, stroking her hair as she held back tears. After a second, Bruce pulled back, taking a long look at (Y/N) as he took her pulse.

“How are you feeling? You look okay,” Bruce noted, quickly checking (Y/N)’s vitals like he always did. Once (Y/N)’s doctor, always her doctor. (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Okay? I look just okay? What are you trying to tell me, huh?” (Y/N) huffed, making Bruce roll his eyes back at her.

“You look beautiful, (Y/N), as always,” Bruce laughed. “You know what I’m referring to.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” (Y/N) admitted, and that was the truth…mostly. But now wasn’t the time to be complaining about her problems with conjuring her magic considering there was an entire innocent population about to be wiped out of existence. “You should be more worried about yourself. Two full years as the Hulk must be exhausting.” It wasn’t until she said it that (Y/N) realized how heavy that statement was for Bruce because his face just went white.

“What?” Bruce choked, tripping over himself a bit as he raced towards the front of the ship, shoving his hand into one of the sensors. He soon came to the realization that he wasn’t exactly…earth-bound any longer. “Where are we?” Bruce stumbled out just as the Grandmaster’s voice echoes over the loudspeakers across the city.

“Sakaar! Here ye, may I have your attention please,” the Grandmaster called out as (Y/N), Thor, and Bruce crowded around the windshield of the ship to see the colorfully clad man give his statement. “I have some bad news. My beloved champion has turned up missing. Take to the streets. Celebrate my champion.”

“Who is that?” Bruce demanded.

“The cult leader of this cum bucket of a planet,” (Y/N) answered without hesitation. Thor just nodded in affirmation to Bruce’s puzzled expression.

“Well said. He runs this place,” Thor explained. “You actually lived at his house for a while.”

“I did?” Bruce questioned.

“Yeah. It’s not as nice as you would think it would be,” (Y/N) commented.

“Really?” Bruce wondered.

“Awful decorator,” Thor agreed. “Yeah, quite a lot’s happened. You and I had a fight recently.”

“Did I win?”

“No, I won. Easily,” Thor answered as (Y/N) threw him a shady look.

“That doesn’t seem right,” Bruce puzzled as Thor cocked his head proudly.

“Well, it’s true,” Thor boasted quickly.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) agreed slowly. “And then afterwards he rode around the stadium on a unicorn and played Tiny Pong with Santa’s elves,” Thor just looked betrayed by (Y/N) who grinned at him and mouthed, fight me, as the Grandmaster continued.

“It seems that that criminally seductive Lord of Thunder and the equally tantalizing creature the Ice Queen has stolen him away…”

“Criminally seductive God of Thunder,” Thor seethed as (Y/N) laughed at his intensity as he marched towards the back of the ship. “We need to move.”

Bruce moaned at the helm, still rubbing his temples with confused anxiety, reaching out to take (Y/N)’s hand. “Okay, I still don’t know why I’m here, but at least tell me why you’re here. Please. I need something to make sense.”

“Well, um…Tony kind of kicked Steve, Sam, Scott, and I out of the…Earth, so now I’m here. I mean, just me. I’m here. The boys went through a different portal to who the hell knows where. And I got sold into Fight Club slavery by Loki, who is alive still. Somehow.”

“Perfect. Thanks for making sense,” Bruce continued to worry. “So, Tony just…why…or how did he kick you off of the planet?”

“The short version is, uh…there was a small misunderstanding between the remnants of the Avengers and the UN. There were these Sokovia Accords stating that the Avengers were responsibe for all of the casualties in New York and Sokovia that Steve and I wouldn’t sign, so Tony almost killed me in Siberia, and it was just…a big…mess…” (Y/N) trailed off, taking in Bruce’s and Thor’s concerned expressions. “I mean…everything’s fine. I picked up knitting. It’s acually a great hobby. No Civil War. Pfft. Just knitting and tea drinking.”

“Tony almost what?” Thor demanded, but (Y/N) just stared at him.

“So, Thor’s long-lost sister is a serial killer,” (Y/N) tried to distract Bruce who just leaned his whole shaking body against the wall of the ship, hoping to be swallowed up by quicksand as to avoid being involved in any of this bullshit. “What’s up with that, right?”

“I just…(Y/N), are you okay?” Bruce asked again, shaking himself out of his temporary stupor, making (Y/N) giggle.

“Gucci. I can explain everything later, but for now…”

“For now, we have to focus on Asgard,” Thor finished for her.

“Asgard…? Why would we be focusing on Asgard when we should be going home?” Bruce wondered aloud.

“Well, it is home. My home,” Thor argued with a stupid grin on his face, then proceeded to explain the beef between him and his sister.

“Okay, that is so wrong on so many levels,” Bruce denounced, still in a daze as (Y/N) handed him some clothes she found in one of the cabinets…Tony’s clothes. “These are Tony’s. Is he here?” (Y/N) shook her head no, but she promised Bruce that she wished just as much as him that Tony was there, earning confusion since she just told him Tony almost killed her, but she also promised that there was more to the story. “But, your sister,” Bruce continued to Thor as he pulled on Tony’s pants. “I don’t want to fight your sister. That’s a family issue. I’m not fighting any more beings. I’m sick of it.”

“No, no, no,” Thor objected. “She’s an evil being with ultimate powers.”

“Well, so is (Y/N), but you don’t see me fighting her.”

“Then, don’t test me,” (Y/N) taunted. “Fight Thor’s sister with us and we won’t have a problem.”

“Wait, what?” Bruce stuttered. “You’re in on this…this…this plan?”

“Well, it’s not so much a plan as it is just beat her ass into shape. But yeah, I suppose I’m in,” (Y/N) qualified, then continued explaining. “This isn’t so much about Thor and personal connections, although I do appreciate you, Pikachu,” (Y/N) added, making Thor blush. “But think about the people. The ones trapped on a planet where they’re being enslaved into submission by an all-powerful drama queen,” (Y/N) offered, pointing behind her towards the large hologram of the Grandmaster who was still droning on about his own accompishments including his Grand Champion, the enslaved Hulk.

“Yeah, no. You’re right. I’m in,” Bruce nodded rapidly, giving (Y/N) and Thor a momentary exhale of relief. “But, only as Bruce. The Hulk stays hidden.”

“Excuse me,” (Y/N) choked.

“If I turn into the Hulk I am never coming back again!” Bruce exclaimed. “My neurons are firing faster than my brain can handle. I can’t process the information. I mean, it’s totally different this time. I don’t think I can control myself if I were to become the Hulk again.”

“Well, you’re back now. That’s all that matters,” Thor consoled, but Bruce was unconsolable.

“No, it’s not what matters! We are on an alien planet that is designed to stress me out.”

“You’ve dealt with (Y/N) and Stark for years,” Thor shrugged. “You’ve had plenty of practice.”

“That’s different,” Bruce complained. “That’s anger management quotes blasted over FRIDAY’s alarm system to wake me up at 6 am. This is…I was a raging beast for two years! I lived in a man’s house that I’d never met before! I am wearing jeans that are cutting off the circulation…down there.”

“Around your ankles? Just roll them up,” Thor offered helpfully, as Bruce just made a face, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to loosen the jeans.

“No, Thor…more around a, uh…different area…”

“Would you both shut up!” (Y/N) exploded, then composed herself, but her eyes were still edged in a silver so mesmerizingly deadly, that both men felt compelled by her every word. “I am seriously considering slapping the both of you. Especially you!” (Y/N) dug her finger in Bruce’s chest. “I know this is confusing and scary and a huge shock to be woken up on an alien planet. Believe me, I know the disorienting feeling. But you need to snap the hell out of it and appreaciate the fact that at least the three of us are together again and if we can focus on not throwing pity-parties for ourselves and instead on the dying people on Asgard, then maybe we can get some shit done. Savvy?” (Y/N) demanded, but recieved only silent admiration. “Got it?” (Y/N) repeated louder as they both spluttered about understanding and pretty eyes. “You guys are hopeless. So, now that our transportation is…smashed, what are we going to do now?” (Y/N) advocated, waiting for something, anything from Thor.

“I, uh…I got nothing,” Thor answered, throwing his hands in the air as (Y/N) marched at him with the silver crecents of her eyes cascading into full moons. “But! But, but, but…!” Thor stuttered. “But, I do know that we have to move. That guard that you took down out there, he’s not going to be the only one. I saw a hangar full of ships. Maybe we could hijack one, and fly out of here.”

“There you go,” (Y/N) complimented. “Thinking under the pressure of death. Glad we’re on the same team here, Sore Loser,” (Y/N) laughed, playfully knocking Thor lightly on the chest as she passed him.

“Whatever I said to you before, Banner. It doesn’t matter. She is the fire,” Thor admitted, and even though Bruce had no idea what he was talking about, he still understood.

“Come on, boys! There’s a She-Devil to fry!” (Y/N) called out cheerfully.

So, imagine the Color Run. A 5K marathon where a rainbow of powder is puffed in little bursts throughout your run to leave you looking like you’d just escaped a children’s Bake Off. Except instead of a rainbow, you’re just green. Everything is green. Everyone leaves green.

That’s what this impromptu Hulk Orgy festival was in the side-street that (Y/N), Thor, and Bruce were walking down, almost nearing the entrance to the Contest of Champions arena, still scrambling on ideas of how to leave Sakaar without being noticed. Bruce argued about needing a disguise, but you would think a guy with seven Phd’s would realize that he is the disguise, but whatever.

It wasn’t until Bruce almost got shanked by ET’s steroid-induced cousin that Valkyrie finally decided to join the team. With an excited hug from (Y/N) that was unexpected from the warrior (but secretly welcomed), and plenty of compliments from Bruce whom she faired she recognized, but couldn’t quite place, she led the team up into one of buildings for cover from the parade down below, promising a well-deserved peace-offering for her new allies. Once she pulled the sliding metal door up, the present was displayed nicely, bound, but unfortuantely not gagged, in golden chains to a chair in the center of the green and white room that (Y/N) guessed was Valkyrie’s apartment of sorts.

“Surprise,” Loki sang out pitifully, the greasy lord attempting to appear less ragged than he felt inside, especially in the face of (Y/N)’s award-winning smirk, but it wasn’t working. It only got worse when Thor threw a tin cup at the God claiming that he needed to know if the Loki that was there wasn’t a projection. He wasn’t. Poor unfortunate soul. “Hello, Bruce,” Loki drawled as Bruce attempted to fix his pants again, but that wasn’t working either.

“So, last time I saw you, you were trying to kill everybody,” Bruce responded nervously. “Where you at these days?”

“It varies from moment to moment,” Loki intimidated darkly, making Bruce’s eyebrows almost shoot up off his face while Valkyrie pulled out her famed sword, smiling to herself and taking extra pleasure when (Y/N) gasped at it’s beauty in Thor’s hands.

“So, Sakaar and Asgard are about as far apart as each known systems. Our best bet is a wormhole just outside of city limits,” Valkyrie proposed. “Stopping off in Xandar, we can be back in Asgard in about…18 months?”

“Nope,” Thor responded immediately, shining Valkyrie’s sword as he pointed it through her window towards a large portal that looked like a mushroom cloud during a nuclear bomb explosion…but coming from the sky…constantly…sucking in anything and everything that comes near it into the oblivion of the unknown edges of space…fun stuff. “We’re going through that.”

“The Devil’s Anus?” Valkyrie implored with shock, making Bruce almost spit out the food he was eating in her kitchen.

“Anus?” Bruce spluttered. “Wait, wait, wait who’s anus?”

“Depends on how much you’re willing to spend,” (Y/N) answered, earning a slap on the shoulder from Valkyrie who snorted with her.

“For the record, I didn’t know it was called that when I picked it,” Thor swore.

“That looks like a collapsing neutron star inside of an Einstein Rosen Bridge,” Bruce observed, pointing towards the red tornado that (Y/N) perceived.

“Yeah, get really up-close and personal with that anus, Bruce,” (Y/N) taunted.

“We need another ship,” Valkyrie commanded, handing a new bottle of something to (Y/N) who drank it immediately without a second thought. “That will tear mine to pieces,” Valkyrie claimed pointing at the Anus.

“She’s right,” Thor approved. “We need one that can withstand the geodetic strain from the singularities.”

“Bless you,” (Y/N) mumbled through her bottle.

“And has an offline power-steering system that can also function without the on-board computer,” Bruce added excitedly, finally having a conversation other than about winning the Battle Royale and smashing fools.

“And we need one with cup holders because we’re gonna die, so…” Valkyrie and (Y/N) raised their glasses together and shouted, “drinks!” Clinking their full bottles together and almost reaching the bottom before they came up for air.

As Valkyrie walked to her kitchen to grab a quick snack, Thor wrapped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder as she took another swig and Bruce leaned in for a ‘team meeting.’

“What do you say, team?” Thor pep-talked. “Uncharted metagalactic travel through a volatile cosmic gateway. Talk about an adventure.”

“All I’m saying is that I hope we have consent with this Anus,” (Y/N) whispered, hiccupping with her proposal as Bruce slowly took the bottle from her hand. “Hey!” (Y/N) objected. “You watched Tony and I down two and a half full bottles of Patron in the lab on Thanksgiving. Give that back.”

Rolling his eyes, he handed her back the bottle noticing there were only drops left anyway. “We need a ship,” Bruce proclaimed to Thor.

“Need a ship,” Thor echoed proudly as he escorted (Y/N) to Valkyrie.

“There are one or two ships,” Valkyrie began to explain. “Absolute top of the line models-”

“I don’t mean to impose-” Loki started, but Valkyrie smashed her empty bottle into the wall next to his head where it shattered to pieces around him. In the following silence, (Y/N) turned to Valkyrie with wide eyes.

“Marry me,” (Y/N) deadpanned, making the team snicker. As Loki continued, Valkyrie looked at (Y/N) and nodded her head towards the god.

“But, uh…the Grandmaster has a great many ships-”

CRASH. Another glass over the god’s head as (Y/N) burst out laughing like Harley Quinn, high-fiving Valkyrie as Loki sighed, muttering something about ‘why do I even bother anymore,’ as (Y/N) handed Bruce a bottle.

“Try it, it’s fun,” she prodded Bruce, but he just blankly looked the bottle, up to the god, then held it behind his back. “Hope you don’t mind the mess, Val.”

“Not at all,” Valkyrie shrugged. “I’ve already accepted that by bringing him here that the lingering stench of failure was to poison my living room.”

“Just wanted to quickly mention, you know, before you critcize me further, that I may even have stolen the access codes to his security system,” Loki offered.

“And suddenly you’re overcome with an urge to do the right thing,” Valkyrie scoffed, placing her hands firmly on her hips.

“Heavens, no,” Loki laughed darkly. “Like I’ve told you, (Y/N), I’ve run out of favor with the Grandmaster-”

“So, I’ve heard,” (Y/N) bit back spitefully. “And been forced to experience.”

“Yes, yes, and in exchange for codes and access to a ship, I’m asking for safe passage through the Anus.”

“You’re telling us that you can get us access into the garage without setting off any alarms?” Thor postulated disbelievingly.

“Yes, brother. I can,” Loki asserted as Bruce whistled for everyone, excluding Loki, to come together.

“A quick FYI. I was just talking to him a couple of minutes ago and he was totally ready to kill any of us,” Bruce enunciated as the team had a powwow over how Loki threatened to kill them, including a very moving story about Loki turning into a snake in order to stab Thor. A story where (Y/N) burst out laughing at Thor, walking over to high five Loki, dramatically realizing he was still in chains, so slapped him a bit on the cheek instead.

“Wow, that’s a nice story,” (Y/N) expressed. “See, now despite all of those murder attempts, I’d like to say that we have nothing to worry about. All Loki seeks is safe passage away from the Grandmaster. I mean, it makes complete and total sense that you don’t want to be the Grandmaster’s bitch anymore. That you’d rather fly off to somewhere far, far away into oblivion to, inevitably…become someone else’s bitch,” (Y/N) rambled, cocking her head at the fuming god. “Am I close?”

“You have no idea how close,” Loki hissed through gritted teeth.

“Well, allow me to get a little closer, then,” (Y/N) dared as she shattered the bottle in her hand on the wall next Loki’s head, gently dragging the jagged edge of the shard she had left in her hand across his neck. “I don’t have time for your bullshit, Ponyboy. I want to get in, kill the Goddess of Death, then go…home,” (Y/N) choked out the last word, emotion cracking her voice before she narrowed her moonlit eyes at the god. “Deal?”

“Cross my heart, darling,” Loki purred, the two staring each other down for a moment just like in Stark Tower before the Battle of New York. It wasn’t until Valkyrie started speaking again did (Y/N) finally pull herself away, just barely saving herself from drowning in the nightmares of her past with Loki.

Hopefully, history doesn’t stand to repeat itself again. Not this time.

Before the team went on their seperate ways, (Y/N) pulled Thor to the side, just for a quick chat about the beauty of trust and honesty.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” (Y/N) started immediately, making Thor scoff. “Yeah, none of this ‘he’s my brother, so kin over common sense.’ None of that shit,” (Y/N) repeated, patting Thor harshly on the cheek. “Here’s his game plan: He’s going to try to screw you over somehow, someway. So, double cross his ass and get the codes. He won’t try anything until you are so deep inside of the building that it would be almost impossible to get out without taking a jet. Now…” (Y/N) pulled an Obedience Disk set out of her pocket, folding it into Thor’s hand, “this is my plan. Teach that Perveball some manners.”

“You’re a genius, (Y/N),” Thor smiled, embracing (Y/N) again while she laughed, flipping her hair as she pulled away from him.

“You know, if more people held that philosophy, we wouldn’t be in nearly as many world-ending catastrophes as we are…but I digress,” (Y/N) smirked as she skipped to join Valkyrie in their expedition to cause chaos in the name of distraction for Thor and Loki to steal their ship, a skill (Y/N) is well versed on.

Breaking through the walls of the prison in a blast of smoke and fire, Valkyrie and (Y/N) stepped through the hole like Bruce Willis in Die Hard.

“It’s Revolution time, bitches!” (Y/N) announced, peeking the attention of every contestant throughout the small prison circle as their Obedience Disks simultaneously deactivated. (Y/N) nodded over to the large blue rock man that was dusting himself off from the blast as he stood to meet the warriors.

“You Korg?” Valkyrie demanded.

“Bet your ass,” Korg answered, catching the large bazooka thrown from Valkyrie as he caught (Y/N)’s eye. “Been waiting for you to join the Revolution. Could’ve come a bit sooner, but I know you’ve been busy with the almost dying and stuff. Good to see that you could make it.”

“Yeah…me too…” (Y/N) drawled, narrowing her eyes at Korg, but snapped herself out of it as she adressed the other prisoners. “Alright, losers! We have some havoc to wreak, who’s with me, huh?” (Y/N) shouted, almost high fiving the knives-for-hands guy before laughing to herself. “Ah…maybe next time, Edward Scissorhands.” Then, moving on to the others around her before leading them off with Korg and Val to attack the guards that came rushing to the scene of the explosion. Safe to say, the poor bastards didn’t stand a chance.

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) watched Korg gun down five guards in a fury of bullets as he shouted, “This is for my mum!” (Y/N) paused as she held one of the guards in a choke hold, placing her hand over her chest as the guard slipped into unconsciousness.

“Aw, that was so sweet,” (Y/N) complimented to Korg. “You’re mom would be so proud.”

“You think so?” Korg asked excitedly as he wiped the blood off of his gun.

“I really do,” (Y/N) assured genuinely as she stabbed a guard in the eye that came at her from her right, but never broke eye contact with Korg as she nodded to him.

“Pansy ass idiots,” Valkyrie moaned as she dragged (Y/N) by the arm to meet Bruce up at the helm of her ship.

“Until the next Revolution!” (Y/N) called down to Korg who waved back at her while she threw her fist in the air just as the doors to the ship slammed in front of her, almost severing one of the guards who were following them in half. The angry pounding of fists rained down on the sides of the ship as Valkyrie took her seat on the driver’s side while Bruce took up the passenger’s. “Hey, we were having a moment there!” (Y/N) complained at Valkyrie who just rolled her eyes and powered up the ship.

“Then, you can visit him over the holidays,” Valkyrie retorted as the overhead speakers projected the Grandmaster’s signal that Thor was on the move with the stolen ship.

“No,” (Y/N) argued as Valkyrie began to gun down the enemy ships chasing after Thor. “The only reason I go to other people’s houses on holidays is if I know that they can cook. That’s about 90% of the reason why I’m marrying Steve.”

“Marrying?” Bruce choked.

“Steve?” Valkyrie spit.

“Anus?” (Y/N) wondered, pointing towards the portal that just seemed to get more and more Doomsday the closer they got to it, successfully diverting Bruce’s and Valkyrie’s attention away as they flew underneath Thor’s ship.

“Open the doors,” Valkyrie commanded to Thor over the radio, then glanced over at Bruce. “I hope that you’re tougher than you look!” She yelled over at Bruce who looked about ready to shit his pants before he was shot through the roof of the ship into Thor’s above. (Y/N) climbed into the passenger’s seat and began to stand in order to pull herself onto the roof, but bent down to Valkyrie first.

“Quick question: It’s not really called the Devil’s Anus, is it?”

“Not a chance,” Valkyrie yelled back with a wide smile. “I just wanted to hear you all say the word anus.” With a congratulatory high five, (Y/N) curled her fingers around the edge of the roof and heaved herself atop the ship like a homecoming date arriving to prom in a limo. You know, one of those assholes.

The wind that brushed off the top of the ship was slick with speed as (Y/N) felt her whole body screaming at her about how dangerous and reckless this was…and man, did she love it. The adrenaline was her drug of choice as she relished the tingle in her stomach and the burning of her veins that begged her to seek safety, but instead, she lifted her arms like wings and let the elements take her. It wasn’t until a laser almost sliced her in half that she actually realized that she was in mortal danger, as if standing atop a space ship hurtling over an alien city at impossible speeds with no safety harness wasn’t enough.

Can’t say she never sought out a challenge.

With a boost of her dwindling magic, (Y/N) catapulted herself from Valkyrie’s to Thor’s ship, gripping the edge of the ship until Bruce helped to hoist her inside. She fell on top of him laughing, but he just looked miffed.

“Did we just…did we just do that?” Bruce stuttered as (Y/N) patted him on the back.

“Now you know how we felt when we saw you all green and naked, buddy.”

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” (Y/N) whispered to him, but he was still clearly worrying about it. “How’re we doing in here, huh?” (Y/N) called to Thor, while Bruce scrambled to his feet behind them, yelling about shooting back at the enemies. Not a bad idea actually if only the ship they had decided to steal wasn’t made so elegantly for the Grandmaster’s copious orgies. “Ya probably should’ve mentioned that before we stole this humping machine, Val!” (Y/N) hollered into the radio, just making Valkyrie chuckle until she was blasted out of her own ship by one of the Grandmaster’s lackeys. Thor and Bruce almost lost their minds yelling for her, but (Y/N) just rolled her eyes. As if.

“Wait for it,” (Y/N) advised, absently pulling her hair back into a tighter bun as she prepared for the next level of comabt, waving at Vakyrie and her flowing blue cape who grabbed onto the side of the ship at the very last second after being forcefully ejected into the sky. It was impressive to say the least.

“Get inside!” Thor called to her, but Valkyrie shook her head.

“In a minute!” She yelled back as she climbed onto the top of the ship and hurtled herself like a cannon onto the ship behind them to dismember each and every enemy. It was everything.

“Come on, Pikachu!” (Y/N) exclaimed, punching Thor in the shoulder. “We’re missing the fight!” And with her proclamation, she became one with the wind and allowed the current to take her to her new victim that she destroyed piece by piece by piercing icicles into the parts that looked the most important to her, spreading her magic through the electrical system, freezing up the engines. But, before the sky demons could drop, she would launch herself to the next one.

After her third victim, (Y/N) met Valkyrie on a purple and silver aircraft where she helped her to move one of the oversized guns atop the ship to aim at the enemy ships behind them. As Val took aim, (Y/N) leaned on the shaft and yelled, “this is nice!”

“Yeah, I just wish we had drinks up here!” Val yelled back. “Otherwise, I could do this all day!”

“Wow, you totally get me,” (Y/N) sighed appreciatively, just barely dodging a flurry of red lasers from a ship to her right that she destroyed with a few waves of her hand. “What kind of Stormtrooper school of shooting did these assholes go to? I mean, this is ridiculous,” (Y/N) commented, her nose scrunched in disgust at the lack of competition around her. “We’re right here, morons!”

“Come on,” Valkyrie huffed, grabbing (Y/N) by the arm with a laugh.

“No, seriously. We could have a full blown conversation right now, and they still wouldn’t be able to touch us,” (Y/N) bragged just as a laser barely grazed the hair off her forearm. Sheepishly, she shrugged to Val. “I blame karma.” With a disbelieving shake of her head at (Y/N)’s disregard of her own mortality, Valkyrie pointed down towards the ship beneath them where Thor had just ejected the driver.

Nodding to Valkyrie, (Y/N) lowered herself off of the purple ship, then fell, landing on just the edge of Thor’s ship where her foot slipped out from beneath her, but Thor caught her. His bulging biceps wrapped around her body protectively as she felt the panic drain from his body as relief brought his breathing to slow down.

“You’re not getting away from this fight that easily,” Thor joked as he kissed the top of her head.

“Gosh, darn it,” (Y/N) yelled back over the howling winds that whistled wildly around them, snapping her fingers in mock disappointment. “Guess I’ll have to try harder to plunge to my death next time around.”

“Good plan!” Thor boomed with laughter as he released her, allowing Valkyrie to take control of their ship until she steered it to just below the Commodore where Thor boosted (Y/N) into their own ship, piloted by Bruce, followed closely behind by the last two team members to complete the Ravengers…as if this bullshit wasn’t familiar. Once Thor and Val entered the ship, (Y/N) glanced back to see the two appraise each other ever so slightly, just a quick nod from badass to badass. (Y/N) smiled to herself at the magical moment.

However, (Y/N) counted approxiately two seconds before Valkyrie shoved Bruce to the floor and well out of her way before taking back the helm of the Commodore, smirking wickedly at the fallen scientist who couldn’t even form words through his surprise.

“We’re approaching the Anus,” Valkyrie sang out.

“I just love the way you say that,” (Y/N) commented sarcastically, shaking her head with wide eyes. Valkyrie snickered to herself as Thor took up the passenger’s seat and Bruce strapped himself in to his seat in the back. But not (Y/N). Her curiosity got the best of her as her eyes gravitated towards the awe inspiring, terror inducing volcano that was erupting from the sky. It seemed impossible that this raptuous beast of a cosmic storm cloud wouldn’t kill them all, even from the distance they were at. But the Commodore pushed on through the wreckage that poured down in droves from the fiery monster, beckoning the team towards what (Y/N) could only perceive as their doom.

If you’ve ever seen The Wizard of Oz, think back to the beginning of the movie with the ginormous tornado that ripped Dorothy’s house from it’s roots as easily as a child picking a dandelion. Now take that image and soak the entire toranado in a bath of blood and fire, then you’ll be closer to how horrific this Anus really was. And (Y/N) was mystified. She felt like she was in the middle of a virtual reality video game, Star Wars space ship and all. This couldn’t be real.

“Here we go!” Valkyrie shouted over the pounding of metal on metal as the Commodore bulldozed through wreckage after wreckage, the only one unaffected by the imminence of death was (Y/N).

It wasn’t until a specifically large piece of sheet metal flipped the Commodore on it’s head that Bruce grabbed (Y/N) by the arm and shoved her into the seat next to himself, tying her down despite her protests that this was a once in a lifetime oppotunity.

“Right, and it will only happen once in your lifetime if you die today,” Bruce countered, fastening the last piece of (Y/N)’s seatbelt before the world became a blur of red and violet light, only to be broken by a horizon of blinding white light that (Y/N) could only describe as the moment before death. (Y/N)’s skin felt like it was being ripped off her face as the pressure of the universe forced itself against her body like a full speed train collision.

And once the collision hit, (Y/N) was sure she was dead. Sure that as far as she knew, the entire universe had imloded from the immense pressure that she felt. How could there be something that strong, and not have it destroy everything in existence? Not that the concept mattered to her anymore, becuase obviously she was dead, right?

She had to be because she could swear what she was seeing wasn’t real. The blinding light was burning her eyes. She thought by now that that effect would be over, but she began to see a group of people below her. She raised her arm to shield her eyes from the burning light as the people became sharper in her vision. And the term ‘group’ wasn’t fitting. This was as if a giant ant hill of humans and creatures alike had spilled from the Earth and onto a battlefield of golden warriors. She didn’t know what they were fighting for, or who they were fighting against, but it was intimidatingly deadly. It was for something important.

(Y/N) could feel her feet finally awken to the cold metal beneath her bare toes. She didn’t remember taking her hunting boots off, but she supposed that when she’s dead, she didn’t get to choose how she entered whatever afterlife there was, if that’s even what this was. She began to take a hesitant step towards the fight far below the vantage point that she was at, but a bouldering arm halted her immediately mid-stride. (Y/N) tried to look towards the arm’s owner, but the sun burned her eyes back into submission as they found her own toes again. She could sense the air of power and domination that rolled off this person’s aura, feeling as if she had just made a grave mistake of even attempting to look the master in the eye.

The master.

She had never used that word in any other context than to be a sarcastic shit. Where the hell did that come from?

But before she could become that sarcastic shit that she’s always been, the arm’s voice commanded into her ear, “Drepa sá einn at yðr elska sá mestr.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a whisper, it was a clear, direct order.

“I…I don’t understand,” (Y/N) stumbled over her words, unsure of everything she was expereincing. This was a bizarre death dream. But what death dream wouldn’t be a bit strange, she guessed.

“Oh, in time you will,” the voice explained darkly, suddenly making the dream a lot more real than it was a moment ago. Before it seemed like this was a movie that (Y/N) was watching. Now, this felt more present. As if whoever was speaking was really there with her, wherever they were. “But your services aren’t necessary, yet. I will find you when the time is mine for the taking.”

(Y/N) stared in horror at the ground, until her face contorted in disgust. “I don’t know what you’re on, mister, but if you can speak English, why the hell didn’t you start this off that way. Seems kind of rude to me-”

(Y/N)’s voice was suddenly cut off by fingers the size of sausages that squeezed the very life out of her lungs as they crushed her tiny neck in a fist the size of her head. Her feet lifted off the ground as she clawed at the fist, but the iron vice wasn’t going to budge, not in this nightmare anyway.

“For right now, I will tolerate your petty words, but allow this to be a warning for in the future…I refuse to be so kind to a human.”

And with his proclamation, the voice released (Y/N)’s neck from it’s grasp as she fell through oblivion into the unknown. Down the rabbit hole she fell until her body hit solid ground and her eyes shot open into reality.

“Breathe, (Y/N), breathe,” someone calmly commanded her, stroking her back as she tried to sit up from where she was lying down. Once her eyes focused, (Y/N) found herself in the Commodore, Bruce’s worried eyes assessing her state of mind from next to her while Thor reached out his hand to her.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Thor asked as Val quickly glanced back at her.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine,” (Y/N) mumbled as she shook off her dream. “Man, I gotta lay off the horror movies.”

“Poltergeist?” Bruce guessed, thinking back to Wanda and (Y/N) wrapped in a pile of blankets in the Avenger’s lounge of Stark Tower, throwing popcorn at the scary bits they found on the screen.

“No, Hercules,” (Y/N) answered as Bruce snorted and helped her to stand up. “I got some real Hades vibes from this guy in my coma dream…ah, fuck. Are we there yet?”

“See for yourself,” Valkyrie urged as Bruce and (Y/N) approached the helm of the ship to see the floating city of Asgard, it’s oceans descending to the endless expanse of multicolored stars below in waterfalls of silver. (Y/N) had never seen the city from this distance, but she knew that from that moment forward, she would never forget it.

Once the Commodore reached the city’s edge, the palace came into full view, golden towers smoking in flames along with the desolate streets below. All color and sparkle (Y/N) had been welcomed by before had lost it’s luster in the face of destruction. As if the city knew what hopelessness the future had in store for itself.

“Thought it would be a lot nicer,” Bruce commented in confusion, thouroughly annoying (Y/N). “I mean not that it’s not nice, it’s-it’s-it’s just that…it’s on fire.”

“Well, being taken over by Death itself doesn’t really help keep a city clean and spiffy,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at Bruce, then sighed. “Can’t help but think about what a field day Flat-Earther’s would have if they saw this fucking rock.”

“But Earth is not flat,” Thor responded in confusion. “Your people really do need help.”

“Well…he’s not wrong,” Bruce stated through a sad shrug, suddenly missing his stupid home planet and their refusal to accept science.

“Here, up in the mountains,” Valkyrie interrupted, pointing to a holographic map of the city at the controls of the ship. “Heat signatures. People clustered together. She’s coming for them.”

“Okay,” Thor acknowdleged. “Drop me off at the palace. I’ll draw her away.”

“And get yourself killed?” Valkyrie implored in shock.

“The people trapped down there are all that matters,” Thor valiently avowed, then beamed at Valkyrie and pointed towards (Y/N). “Besides, I’ll have this one with me, so there’s nothing to really worry about.”

“Oh, great,” Valkyrie moaned. “So, you’re gonna get (Y/N) killed with your stupid plan as well?”

“No way,” Thor chuckled. “Have you seen this little one fight? With both of us together, we can’t lose. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?” Thor celebrated, bumping (Y/N) back into reality as she broke her gaze from the buring city below.

“What?” (Y/N) drawled lazily, while everyone groaned.

“Were you even listening?” Bruce scolded her.

“No,” (Y/N) laughed. “I was thinking about what we’re going to eat after this is over. Anyone else hungry? Becuase I’m starving-”

SNAP. Valkyrie snapped in front of (Y/N)’s face, catching her attention. “Focus, (Y/N). Are you going with Thor to fight that demoness, or not?”

After a moment of thought, (Y/N) turned to Thor. “Can I rip her head off?”

“Of course you can,” Thor smiled back, while (Y/N) nodded.

“Then, yeah. I’ll come.”

“Great! It’s settled, then,” Thor announced, clapping his hands together as Bruce just stared at (Y/N).

“You can keep staring at me like that all day, I’m still going to rip her head off,” (Y/N) shrugged at him nonchalantly.

“But why does anyone have to have their heads ripped off?” Bruce exclaimed.

“Because, Bruce, I am a very angry person inside,” (Y/N) huffed, as if Bruce should already know this. “A lot of shit has happened over the last few years, and I think someone should pay. This bitch seems fitting. I mean, look at that mess,” (Y/N) motioned to the pile of ashes, formerly known as Asgard. “This place used to be a living fucking Postcard.”

“She’s right,” Thor agreed. “Hela needs to be destroyed. So, while we’re dealing with Hela, I need you two to help everyone get off of Asgard.”

“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” Bruce retorted in a panic.

“Maybe, we should call the Avengers,” (Y/N) answered straight faced.

“(Y/N)!” Thor and Bruce chided her, while (Y/N) threw her hands up in defense.

“I have a man on the ground,” Thor reassured Bruce. “You remember, Heimdall, (Y/N)?”

“WIth those melted golden eyes, who could forget?” (Y/N) declared, fanning her face.

“Right,” Thor nodded, making a quick face at (Y/N), but continuing on. “He’s going to lead our people to the Bifrost. Do what you can to protect them.”

“Yeah, and call me if you can find dinner,” (Y/N) added. “Becuase I haven’t eaten in, like, hours.”

“I’ll make sure to call you when we find a Taco Bell amongst the chaos of this dying city, (Y/N),” Bruce bit back, while (Y/N) wiped away a fake tear.

“That’s all I’m asking from you people,” she responded, laying her head on his shoulder while he shrugged helplessly into his friend, realizing just how much he really missed her and all of her quirks at that moment.

“Enough of the chit chat,” Valkyrie sighed in annoyance. “We have work to do here, and I’m not going to leave this godforsaken city until that wench is dead, and I don’t need any of your bullshit to get in my way of that goal, got it?”

“We got it,” everyone agreed as Valkyrie drove further into the city, dropping Thor and (Y/N) off at the front of the palace. The vacant courtyard leaving (Y/N) with pin-pricks raising the hairs over her entire body. And with heartfelt, pain-staking goodbyes such as, “don’t die,” from Valkyrie, the heroes went their seperate ways. Once the Commodore was gone, (Y/N) and Thor stared at the grand palace doors, neither one exactly excited to enter whatever fight they were about to embark on.

“Are we really about to do this?” (Y/N) remarked, looking the golden statues up and down like foreign enemies.

“Yes, we are,” Thor answered just as blankly. “I’m getting a sense of…what did you call it? Deja vu?”

“I’ve been feeling that a lot recently,” (Y/N) responded, thinking back to herself and Tony meeting Loki face-to-face before New York again. Guess, that’s not the worst thing to feel considering how well things turned out there (and ‘well’ as in less people died than there could’ve been). Maybe there was hope after all. Maybe.

“Like, perhaps in that premonition you had in the Commodore that you are trying to convince yourself was just a dream?” Thor called her out, while (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him.

“You know, not every dream is some grand foretellng of the future. Some dreams are just dreams,” (Y/N) argued. “I know they make you feel all important and powerful and godly and whatever, but I drank a lot this week with Val. Probably caused some permanent damage in my brain.”

“I’ve seen you do worse,” Thor shrugged.

“Guess you’re right,” (Y/N) agreed. “The night after New York with Tony and Clint was pretty bad. Things got really weird, really quick…too quick.”

“Regardless, I know a premonition when I see one. Whatever you’re not telling me, I’ll find out eventually. I would just hope that if it’s bad enough, that you’d come to me for help.”

“I think you’re the one who needs help,” (Y/N) waved Thor off. “Dreams are just dreams. If you want to read my palm later and tell me my fortune, you know where to find me. But for now, like Val said, we have work to do.”

“But, you hate work,” Thor slipped in.

“But, I like you and I like Asgard, so let’s save this place before one of those things stops being true.”

“There’s my Fearsome One,” Thor appraised, while (Y/N) shook her head and marched into the palace with Thor chuckling to himself on her fiery tail.

MASTERLIST | Chapter 1

*this took a hell of a lot longer than I would’ve thought possible, but here it is, ladies and gents. Hopefully you all enjoyed it and are excited to see how (Y/N) handles the Wicked Bitch of the West. If you did, please like/reblog and hit that notification button. Until next time… xx*

*also lowkey really want Marvel to support and explore Valkyrie’s beautiful bisexuality in Infinity War with like Nebula or Captain Marvel or something. reblog if you agree*

deadcrushing:thor ragnarok fight scene but holding out for a...

Wed, 14 Mar 2018 02:14:12 -0400

deadcrushing:

thor ragnarok fight scene but holding out for a hero is playing

but…fuck…i don’t know which one is better

Chapter 1: A Champion Is Born {Avengers Imagine}

Thu, 25 Jan 2018 06:14:39 -0500

~Part 6~ The Life of an Avenger: Ragnarok

Summary: Just when she thought she was about to get a break from the bullshit that comes with being an Avenger, (Y/N) gets sent to a foreign planet on accident by Doctor Stephen Strange with a whole new set of problems that, for once, aren’t her own. Maybe it’s for the best, or maybe it’s time for her to just walk away from the fight. How long can she really keep doing this before she falls apart? Well, becoming one of the Grandmaster’s new playtoys might not be the best first step.

Word Count: 9411

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some violence, **Ragnarok spoilers**

MASTERLIST

Oh, this is bad, (Y/N) thought as her eyes scanned the dump site before her. The endless expanse of garbage stretched beyond the horizon curve of whatever planet she was on, the stench sickening her to the very core. Anyone could’ve mistaken it for a regular junk yard if it weren’t for the spacecrafts circling like vultures over a canyon of litter just a mile from the mound of trash she was standing on. Garbage rained from the sky in random patterns of destruction, breaking already dicey wreckage into more chaos once they catapulted into the ground below.

As her eyes continued to survey the wasteland, a shadow blocked whatever light cast itself over the landscape right above her head. She whipped back to witness a gigantic sculpture meteoring straight for her. She shot her hand forward, slicing the metal in half at the waistline, sending the pieces to either side of her. She tilted her head to the side in wonder at the face of the sculpture that she vaguely recognized with the sharp angles of the man’s cheekbones. However, her time was cut short by the sudden alarms of a fast approaching aircraft that bulleted through the smoky, dirt infested skies straight for her.

With wide eyes, she spun on her heels and slid down her mound of garbage landing in a sprint toward any sort of cover she could find. She weaved in and out of shattered air vessels, under the wings of old ships, and through the window of a demolished building that lay carelessly on it’s side. (Y/N) ducked behind a cabinet full of swords and other weapons she had never seen before, but seemed deadly enough. Three ships sped over the building where she hid, sirens continuing to blare as they searched on.

(Y/N) sighed in relief as she caught her breath, leaning her head back against the cabinet, letting her brain catch up with the rest of her body.

You’ve been in much worse situations than this, (Y/N) thought to herself. Just stay calm and figure it out. No fear, and absolutely no fucking weakness.

Just as she began to stand up, there was a creak and shift of dust across the apocalyptic room. She crouched back down, staying on her toes as her eyes vigilantly scanned the area from between the door hinge of the cabinet. Nothing. After a few seconds, she tried to shift towards her left out of the shattered window she had come from, but there was another soft thud to her right, definitely a footstep. Frozen in anticipation of a fight, (Y/N) manipulated a silver dagger of ice in her right hand, her other hand balancing her crouch as she prepared to strike.

Suddenly, the dust shifted directly behind her and like a viper, (Y/N) blitzed her stalker, running him up against a crumbling wall with her blade to his throat.

“Well, hello to you too,” Loki choked, grinning despite his approximity to death.

“What the hell are you doing here?” (Y/N) demanded through gritted teeth.

“I have a garbage fetish,” Loki teased. “It’s quite beautiful, don’t you think?”

“I thought you were dead.”

Loki paused, slowly cocking his eyebrow at her. “Really?”

“…no, not really,” (Y/N) answered in a huff. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Huh,” Loki scoffed. “Bring you here? I would never-”

“Oh, screw off. So, you just happened to be shopping for garbage, then? Convenient,” (Y/N) hissed, pressing the blade a nick into Loki’s skin, but no blood spilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I would enjoy escorting you away from this wretched place, if you would merely take the blade from my throat.”

“And why in the fuck would I trust you?” (Y/N) demanded as the image of Loki melted away. In a second, a real blade was forced to just below her jawline, cold fingers grasping hungrily at her waist.

“Becuase you don’t have a choice,” Loki snarled in her ear as the world fell away. Once again, (Y/N) was left to claw her way through the dark. It wasn’t so much panic and fear that she felt anymore, but just sheer annoyance as she groaned into the void.

“Fucking asshole,” (Y/N) muttered, until her leg hit something hard that moved into her, making her fall backwards into what she now realized was a chair as magnets fastened to her wrists and the lights flickered to life around her.

“Fear not, for you are found. You are home, and there is no going back. No one leaves this place,” a soothing voice announced over the loudspeaker as images of galaxies and a Coachella-inspired fashionista flashed across the walls of whatever tunnel (Y/N) had found herself in. The thing was basically an upgraded Space Mountain (just in case anyone forgot this is technically a Disney movie…it is). Still strapped to the chair, the “ride” moved itself like a conveyor belt towards…well, she didn’t know to where yet and she wasn’t to keen on finding out either. “But what is this place? The answer: in Sakaar. Surrounded by cosmic gateways, Sakaar lives on the edge of the known and unknown. It is the collection point for all lost and unloved things. Like you.”

“Way to shoot someone when they’re down, you wench,” (Y/N) called, but quickly realized that she was just yelling at a recording. With a shake of her head, she went back to work on breaking out of her restraints.

“But here on Sakaar, you are significant. You are valuable. Here, you are loved. And no one loves you more than the Grandmaster.”

“So that’s who that prick is,” (Y/N) muttered at the projection of the man draped in lavishly colored robes. “Guess I’ll have to kill him first.”

“He is the original. The first lost, and the first found. The creator of Sakaar and the father of the Contest of Champions. Where once you were nothing, now you are something. You are the property of the Grandmaster.”

That last line struck (Y/N) like a stab in the gut. A phrase that triggered a craving for blood deep within her. She was not the property of anybody. Not after Hydra. Not ever again. If she was furious before, she was a full-fledged demon now. She ripped at the edges of the chair, denting the metal where her nails dug into it’s arms.

“Unfortunately at this time, the Grandmaster’s inbox is full and cannot accept any more candidates. Once his schedule clears, he will make time for you as soon as possible. Hopefully. The wait time at this moment is…” the voice ceased for a moment as it seemed to calibrate the time. “Seven years, fourteen days, and fifty-two minutes.”

“I don’t think so, Siri Satan,” (Y/N) panted, barely making way with the restraints before the images began to mix together in a confusing mess of color and the chair picked up speed.

“Prepare yourself. Prepare yourself for incarceration,” the voice repeated as the hyper speed kicked in and lurched (Y/N)’s stomach bringing a scream to her lips. “Prepare yourself. Prepare yourself-”

And in a second, (Y/N) was in an empty room. With effort, she ceased her scream as she took a long look around the space only to find an old cot in the corner of the white walls. As fast as she had arrived, the chair released its grips that dropped her to the ground on her hands and knees and reared backwards out of the room through the open doors behind her. (Y/N) jolted up and sprinted towards the doors, but she was too late as they slammed in her face and blurred as if there weren’t any doors to begin with. She pounded and pounded against the wall, but it was useless. Eventually, she stopped when she felt a pair of eyes on the back of her neck. She pivoted to find Loki grinning at her through the glass that imprisoned her like a beta in a fish bowl.

She swallowed her anger as she approached the god, determined not to let him see how shaken she was. She threw her hands in the air in surrender.

“Alright,” (Y/N) laughed. “You caught me. Care to explain yourself?”

Loki shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You wouldn’t have visited me here otherwise,” (Y/N) coaxed. “Besides, isn’t that a sociopath’s favorite way to get off? Telling others about their sick conquests?”

“Yes, but I haven’t murdered anybody,” Loki smirked. “…today.”

“Your restraint is astounding. I’m inspired. Now, why am I here?”

“It seems I am beginning to fall out of favor with the Grandmaster,” Loki explained, pacing in front of (Y/N). “I’d prefer to regain that position by his side.”

“How would sending me through the Expositional Cave of Wonder help your case in winning him back?”

“Were you not paying any attention? You’re a candidate for one of the greatest competitions I have ever come across, my dear: the Contest of Champions. And, thanks to me, I have just brought the Grandmaster his new champion…for a great sum, of course. You will make me one of the elites again.”

“You know, where I come from, that’s considered human trafficking.”

“Whatever you consider it, it is quite an honor indeed. I chose you over any of your other precious Avengers. Congratulations, darling. You are about to be ravenously famous.”

“The honor is all mine,” (Y/N) responded calmly, deathly calm. She approached the glass with lithe steps as if stalking her prey. “But just know that once I get out of here, I am going to freeze off every last one of your fingers…one…by…one.”

“And I will cherish every moment of anticipation until then,” Loki concluded coolly as he was enveloped into the shadows behind him.

“Loki! Loki get the hell back here! Loki!” (Y/N) howled after the god, but he was gone. After her throat became raw from useless threats into the void, she slid her back down the glass in shame and horror, allowing the weight of her situation to take over her thoughts.

How did I let this happen? (Y/N) chastised herself. I’m stronger than him. I’m smarter than him. What gives? Where did everything fall apart?

Oh, no. Don’t go there, bitch. That’s a loaded question.

After hours, or days, or fuck it, years of inner turmoil later (she had absolutely no patience or concept of time), there was a loud thud on the wall where the doors had disappeared. (Y/N) turned her head away from her desperate attempts to dig a hole through the glass with the knife she stole from the cabinet. After a few more thuds and clicks, the doors began to crawl open, giving (Y/N) the chance to clumsily stand and ready herself to fight.

Once the doors were fully open, two guards marched into the room followed by a giant, blue rock. No, seriously. A rock. Not The Rock. A fucking boulder.

“Are you the Ice Queen?” The boulder asked. (Y/N) just cocked her head to the side and squinted at…him? “Hello? Miss Ice Queen? Are you deaf? Well, guess that’s not her. We have the wrong cell again. You guys should be better at your jobs by now,” the boulder rambled to the other two guards with a shrug as he turned to leave.

“No, wait!” (Y/N) shouted, shaking off her initial confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’m the freaking Ice Queen. What do you want?”

“Oh, great!” The boulder exclaimed as he crossed the room and extended his…hand…towards her. “The name’s Korg. I’m a contestant and quite the crowd pleaser in this establishment. As you can see, I’m made of stones, so you can’t break any bones. It comes in handy when that’s all your competitors want to do to you.”

“That’s um…fascinating, Korg,” (Y/N) replied slowly. “I just, uh…why are you here, though?”

“Alright, tough crowd. Not into jokes I see. That’s okay,” Korg continued. “I’m here to set down the rules for you. I’ve been here for…well, I wouldn’t know how long since time doesn’t really exist down here in contrast with the outside universe.”

“Time doesn’t exist here?”

“Don’t think about it too much. I mean, while you’re here, the rest of the universe is aging either rapidly or second by second. It just depends on what edge of the galaxy you came from.”

“Oh, that’s gonna fuck me up,” (Y/N) sighed as she took a shaky breath. “Awesome. Well, now that you’ve blown my mind, can we discuss a deal here to get me out of this purgatory?”

“Nope. Sorry, mate. Not my call to make,” Korg shrugged. “All I can do is tell you the rules of the game. So, once you get in the ring, the goal is not to die. My advice: don’t get stabbed, maimed, mutilated-”

“Alright, I’m gonna stop you there,” (Y/N) interrupted. “Look, you seem like a good guy, but you don’t have to explain shit to me. Unless the Grandmaster himself is getting into that ring, I’m not fighting anybody.”

“Well, uh…you don’t really have a choice there, Miss Ice Queen.”

“That seems to be a theme today,” (Y/N) bit back spitefully, but reeled herself in again. “There’s been a mistake here. I’m not a…contender. I never signed up for this. Is there someone I can talk to to get out of here?”

“Most of us never signed up to be here,” Korg laughed. “It’s messed up, but it’s your life now. Might as well accept it and hope for the best. Becuase if you don’t fight, you get will get melted into goo by this magic wand the Grandmaster has. It’s pretty gross.”

“Uh…” (Y/N) muttered, rendered completely speechless.

“Besides, you’re pretty hot. I’m sure if you just did a song and dance to warm up the crowd, you could get away without fighting anyone. Are you a good dancer?”

“No, ew. Somehow, that’s a thousand times worse,” (Y/N) argued, shaking her head. “No, the point is, I’m not performing for people that are profitting from my pain. So, you’re saying there’s absolutely no way out of this?”

“Well, I never said that. There is one way out of here, and that’s to beat the Grandmaster’s champion,” Korg explained, allowing a second to wager (Y/N)’s reaction, then shrugged. “But since you refuse to fight, you’re pretty screwed. Hope you enjoy Death, Ice Queen. Becuase you’re about to get a lot of it.”

“So, you’re saying that I either fight and die, or die because I won’t fight?”

“Like I said, it’s messed up, man.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“Yeah, well. What are you gonna do about it? I say you might as well fight for some extra cash than just become a puddle of goo. That would suck,” Korg rambled. After a few seconds of silence, Korg sighed. “Guess if you don’t want my help, I’ll be leaving now. But your first fight starts in about…twenty minutes, so you might want to reconsider your position.”

“Twenty minutes!” (Y/N) shouted, then without hesitation made a break for the doors, dodging the two guards and Korg who just waved behind her.

“Good luck, Miss Ice Queen! Don’t get maimed too much!” Then, turned to the guards with a smile. “She was nice.”

(Y/N) bolted down the dark hallway that was dimly lit with only a few blue lanterns every few feet on the sides of the walls. Only her heavy breath was to be heard within the concrete walls until she saw light at, literally, the end of the tunnel. She was so close, the light so tangible she could almost taste it. Alright, maybe she was a bit delusional, but she didn’t care. She was about to be free from this hellhole. She prepared herself to fight whoever, or whatever was outside that tunnel, or shotgun through whatever crowd, or jump off of any cliffside, or…anything. She was ready for anything. She was right there, it was-

Gradually, she came to. Her eyes watering with the effort of opening them as she tried to blink the tears away only to reveal the guy who’s life she was prepared to end right then and there.

“I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that you weren’t going to take the news of your first fight very well,” Loki cooed at her as the guards continued to drag her through the dark hallways again. Recognizing that they were taking her back to that cell, she began to struggle against them, even biting one of them on the hand, but the guy didn’t even flinch. “Oh, no,” Loki laughed, “you’re not getting away this time. You are going to fight, and I am going to get the recognition I deserve. This is our moment. Savor it.”

“I’ll savor your heart being ripped from your chest, you sadist,” (Y/N) spit.

Loki clapped his hands together in excitement. “Now, there’s the intensity I wanted! This shall be a battle for the ages! I will drink in our honor, for the both of us, of course.”

“How thoughtful of you,” (Y/N) choked as the guard caught hold of the cape they put on her around her neck that she wriggled out of. Her armor clanging against the ground in an echo of metal on metal as they entered a large room that wasn’t anything like her cell. There were people. Actual people…and other creatures. They all stared at her and whispered among themselves, pointing at the small girl that was swallowed by her oversized armor in disbelief as she was dragged to a metallic gate. A booming voice came over the loudspeakers beyond the gate, but before (Y/N) could take a closer look, she was shoved into a chair and locked in place where an old man with graying hair and a chainsaw-like mechanism walked towards her.

“Ready for a nice haircut today?” He shouted over the sound of the blades, but (Y/N) turned on him with eyes colder than death itself.

“I swear to god, if you get any closer to me with that thing, I will shove it so far up your ass that it’ll come out your nose,” she threatened lowly. Everyone froze in shock. As anyone with common sense would, the old man backed off, leaving only a girl with black and white face paint in her hands and something that looked like hair gel to approach (Y/N) with shaky hands. The poor girl was terrified and obviously not the enemy, so (Y/N) nodded to welcome her.

Once she was finished, (Y/N) got a quick glance in the mirror and she didn’t mean to be vain, but shit. She looked fierce as hell. Just as quick as the glace, she was dragged to her feet again towards the gate where she heard the voice again, but this time in an even more exaggerated tone than before.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen. All the way from Midgard, we have a warrior so fierce, she’ll freeze the very socks off your feet. I now present, the…Ice Queen!”

With that announcement, the gates rose and (Y/N) was shoved inside the ring where she fell to her knees in the dirt, but again she was too late. She reached the gates where her fingers laced between the metal chinks in white-knuckled fear and anger, her eyes narrowing at her captor.

“Just breathe, darling,” Loki cooed. “It’ll be over before you know it, win or lose. Personally, I’d prefer the first, but that really depends on you. What did Thor call you before…the Fearsome One?” Loki questioned, his lips only separated by the cold metal that dug into (Y/N)’s hands as he curled his own fingers around hers, then leaned in closer. “Prove it.” And before (Y/N) could respond, he disappeared into the jeering crowd of warriors and spectators alike. After a moment of contemplation over the form of Loki’s death, the overhead speakers boomed in her ear.

“Looks like our Ice Queen is having some trouble finding her opponent,” the increasingly annoying voice teased her. She could tell he was just trying to entertain his audience and get a rise out of her…well, it was working. “Come out of your hiding place, we won’t hurt you. Well, at least the audience and I won’t. The guy behind you definitely will, unless you fight, so…carpe diem! Seize the day! It’s your moment, now have it!”

During the voice’s monologue, (Y/N) turned around to first see a large holographic image of the Grandmaster himself above the millions of people crowded among the stands like the Roman Collesium in its prime. The Grandmaster was draped in extravagant turquois and golden robes with a relatively naive smile dressing his lips despite the sadistic Hunger Games he had forced so many people and creatures to endure. She couldn’t tell whom she hated more at the moment, but she couldn’t take too long to think about that before her gaze caught those of the raging bull of a man she was apparently supposed to fight. Bulging muscles, red eyes, a bluish/purplish complexion that made him look perpetually bruised with spiked piercings over most of his body like an oversized porcupine. He looked like any meat-head you could imagine if he had descended from a Black Hole in space.

With a shake of her head, she tried to approach the man, but her strides were hindered by the metal armor that seemed to drag her to the ground faster than quicksand.

Don’t fall. Don’t you dare fucking fall right now. This is too important for you to fuck up. Just look cool. Like you’re not even trying. Just don’t fucking-

She fell. She totally took a hard face-fucking from the unforgiving ground. Slowly raising his head, she could hear the roar of laughter around her including the bull who almost fell over himself with tear-jerking humor.

“The snow has fallen, folks. I repeat, the snow has fallen,” the Grandmaster announced, sparking a new wave of laughter through the loudspeakers.

Blinking the dust from her eyes, she pushed herself up to standing and continued towards the bull with her head held high. Once she reached the man who was at least three feet taller than her and still clutching at his stomach, she extended her hand towards him with a neutral expression on her face.

“My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and I’m proposing a truce,” she addressed cordially. The bull just looked the small girl up and down, then scoffed.

“My name is Goldirum, and I came here to fight,” he responded as (Y/N)’s hand fell back to her side with a clang of her armor and the many boos of the crowd.

“Why would you fight for them?”

“It’s not for them…it’s for me,” Goldirum growled lowly as he began to stalk her, lowering his head like a bull about to charge, making (Y/N) back up with unsure steps.

“You volunteered for this?” (Y/N) questioned, her eyebrows raised in shock.

“Killing things in the name of sport…can’t imagine a better situation,” Goldirum snarled, his lips curling with pleasure as his muscles flexed, extending the spikes further from his back and arms. “Now quiet so I can kill you in peace.”

“Then fucking do it already,” (Y/N) dared him, despite him clearly having the upper hand. Force of habit, she supposed.

Bitch, you are in no position to be calling threats right now and-

Too late. Goldirum let out a spine-chilling bellow that would’ve made anyone run for cover, but that option wasn’t really available for (Y/N) at the moment as he charged straight for her. In her ‘graceful’ escape, (Y/N) tripped on her armor again just as he was on top of her. But before he trampled her to death, she wielded every ounce of strength that she had within her to push him up and over her about twenty feet into the air, his body colliding into the wall behind her with a crunch and smash that crumbled around him as he fell limp.

Silence. Nobody had expected that. Especially not the Grandmaster himself who sat in his royal booth overhead, remote ready to spark things up if she got a bit too feisty for his taste against one of his other favorite contenders.

Goldirum struggled to his feet and he shook himself off, mirroring (Y/N) who struggled to her own feet. Staring each other down across the ring, they sized the other contender up with narrowed eyes. After a moment, Goldirum stumbled over himself for a second in what appeared to be a small seizure of some sort that (Y/N) couldn’t quite place, but he quiickly recovered with a snarl and charged her once again with snot-filled rage careening him forwards. (Y/N) tried to dodge him, but she stumbled once again and just managed to throw him into the wall next to her with a long gash from one of his spikes across her cheek that she barely felt, the adrenaline now filling her veins with a burning desire.

“Oh, screw this,” (Y/N) muttered to herself as she cast a protective shield around herself and stripped out of the heavy armor, letting the metal crash to the ground as she shook her hair out.

“No! Put that back on this instant! I command you! Well, it’s more of a request, but I need you to put that back on,” the Grandmaster shouted, catapulting himself from his seat to press against the glass as he saw the shocking device shatter on the ground behind her, pointing at the sorceress who simply grinned up at him with eyes full of daggers.

She turned her attention back to the bull who stampeded straight for her shield as she extended her hands towards him with a scream from deep in her chest. The ice catapulted forward to meet Goldirum head on as he went flying backwards into the same wall that almost competely gave way. The bull skidded to the ground in a bloodied heap. In a snap, he got back to his feet, vengeance piercing his eyes as he turned and charged back into the ring for (Y/N) who attempted the same move, but Goldirum shattered her magic as easily as glass and continued straight for the witch who rolled out of his way, finally able to maneuver gracefully as Nat and Clint had taught her so many years ago.

Rolling to her feet, (Y/N) tried to wield another shield of magic, but her veins betrayed her as her fingertips sparked for a moment, but quickly flickered out. Cursing herself with a very colorful vocabulary, (Y/N) sprinted back to her armor where she found a pair of katanas that she whipped into full extension as she faced Goldrium’s rage once more. The red of his eyes glowing more prominently against the dark facepaint that outlined the holllows of his eye sockets and across his chiseled cheekbones. Once he reached the distance she preferred, (Y/N) launched herself into the air, coming down on the beast with both katanas aimed for the top of his head, but at the last moment, she used to flat sides of the swords to swing into the right side of his temple. Goldirum soared backwards, carving a ditch deep across the ring. With katanas grasped tightly in each hand, (Y/N) marched towards Goldirum who held his hands up in surrender as he coughed up blood.

“I yield,” Goldirum panted. “I give up. You win. I surrender.”

(Y/N) looked the bull up and down as he crumbled in on himself, a hell of a lot more bruised than he was before as the pain seized up his face. He didn’t appear to be getting up any time soon. With a sigh of relief, she turned away from the defeated bull of a man and began to head back for the gates as the crowds’ cheering finally reached her ears in a collection of her stage name echoing through the stands, but she didn’t care. She had to get out of there. Now.

Dragging her burdened body towards the rising gate, the cheers suddenly turned into gasps and jeers other than her name as the gates began to close again. (Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock as her breath hitched in her throat and her heart seized in her chest becuase a second later, before she could even turn her head, the bull had a fist full of her long hair in his meaty hand as he dragged her back to the center of the ring, then tossed her through the air like a ragdoll. In her shock, (Y/N) released the katanas from her hands that went flying into the stands, making spectators duck out of the way. With a yelp, (Y/N) crashed into the gravel directly on her shoulder that, after only a moment, she knew was most likely dislocated. Among her painful cries, she heard the speakers fill with condescending laughter from the Grandmaster himself.

“Nobody yields in the Constest of Champions!” The Grandmaster announced, his voice mixed with the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ of the crowd around her. “What do you think a champion is? Someone who wins by default? No. Now fight, or die, you feisty, little witch!”

Red anger rose into (Y/N)’s cheeks, fueling the fire in her chest that was bound to explode. But before she knew it, the bull’s fist was around her neck as he flung her into the air where she landed with another bone crunching smash. Nose bloodied, knuckles bruised, (Y/N) managed to her feet, but couldn’t manage to conjure any magic. Her time was running out as the bull bulldozed straight for her with the sword he’d been given, ready to impale her and end the fight, a gruesome smile crossing his face at the bloody thought.

(Y/N) searched for a weapon, but she was powerless. There was nothing. She had absolutely nothing. It was hopeless. She backed up towards the gate, trying desperately to conjur anything to help her out, but-

“Hey! Ice Girl!” Someone yelled from the crowd. (Y/N) turned to find a girl about her age with long, dark hair tied behind her back and a wicked sword extended from her grasp through the gates. (Y/N) appraised the armor-clad girl suspiciously as the girl rolled her eyes. “You really going to question this?”

Guess the answer was no as (Y/N) seized the sword from the girl just as the bull reached her, but (Y/N) swung around the beast just as he missed her body, brushing up against her shoulder as she turned into him and sliced his head off right at the shoulders from behind.

It was as if the whole thing had happened in heart-pounding slow motion for her. She’d watched enough Law and Order: SVU to know the generic killer’s excuse of I didn’t even know it was happening. The whole thing was a blur.

Well, that couldn’t have been more true for her as her gaze caught sight of the bull she had just decapitated. It wasn’t the first time she had killed someone, but by the mercy of the universe, she hoped it would be the last time.

Unfortunately, the universe always had other plans.

The ringing eventually left (Y/N)’s ears as confetti rained down from the crowds and spacecrafts above, mingling with the pool of blood that she barely managed to pull her eyes away from. In a furious rage, she marched towards the Grandmaster’s safe little, royal box. She could even see the gleeful smile that broke across his beaming face, probably at the ‘genius’ of his own mind for creating such a gruesome game.

“Alright, Grand-Pain-In-My-Ass,” (Y/N) shouted up at the man as the crowd gasped at her audacity, but it only seemed to further indulge the Grandmaster. “I did what you wanted. I won. Now, get me the hell out of this Battle Royale wasteland!”

“Oh, please!” The Grandmaster shouted, clapping his hands together for the sorceress, one of his new favorite pets. “Now, this is entertainment, ladies and gentlemen! How are you all feeling tonight!” His grandiose proclamation recieved an astounding roar of approval as he nodded in affirmation. “That’s what I thought. I’m afraid the entertainment is too grand to end, Ice Queen. Bring out the next contender and let’s…” drumroll echoed through the ring, “have…some…fun!”

The gates across from (Y/N) rose to unveil her new opponent. A serpent the size of three school busses slithered out from the chamber in a rattle of it’s tail as “Reptilia,” by The Strokes blared throughout the arena, further confusing the absolute hell out of (Y/N).

“Whoever recommended Midgard music to me is getting a serious upgrade,” the Grandmaster announced as a keyboard was rolled in front of him that he began to play along with the music, making (Y/N) roll her eyes and groan.

This was going to be a long day.

After her ninth victim, (Y/N) collapsed to the ground. Sweat poured down her face with dried crimson lining her prominent cheekbone. The last time she had been this exhausted, she had been fighting an alien army on a floating rock in Sokovia. Oh, how the world always seems to come full circle.

The crowds among the stands mixed together in a rainbow of chanting and crazed howling. She couldn’t even decipher what they were saying anymore. All she could focus on was her chipped, black nail polish that dug desperately into the ground as she tried to stop the world from spinning around her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the limp body of the wizard she had just demolished was dragged from the arena, a dazed look shadowing his face as he avoided looking at the nub of his arm that (Y/N) had just barely left in tact.

“And we finally approach the tenth round! Give it up for our outstanding contestant whom, let’s be honest, nobody thought would get this far!” The Grandmaster giddily called into his microphone, almost squealing with excitement. (Y/N) was disgusted. “Now, our final contestant is a creature that almost nearly beat my beloved champion, but lost out at the last second in a battle of brawn that still brings tears of joy to my eyes each time I recollect the legendary joust,” the Grandmaster cried out, wiping dramatic crocodile tears from his eyes. “It’s a creature from the deep, dark depths of nightmares and the tides of some laboratory experiment gone wrong down on Midgard…”

Througout his announcement, the ground around (Y/N) began to shake as the tiles recoiled back and disappeared under the walls that shifted into a translucent glass-like coating in front of the crowded stands. The platform she stood on rose about thirty feet high from where the ground used to be that now revealed a sea of water around the center spot where she lay. Shakily, she crawled to the edge of her platform. Her fingers crept over the edge, pushing a bit of dirt down into the water below as she searched for the creature the Grandmaster was continuing to boast about, but she couldn’t spot anything.

“…a fearsome, eight-legged beast you would believe was only a figment of your own paralyzed imagination. And here it comes to feed on the only thing it loves more than fish…human…flesh…it’s The Kraken!”

It was only then that (Y/N) spotted the dark shadow that encircled her spot. Just the shadow alone made her body grow cold. The thing was bigger than anything she had ever faced before. It was one thing to take down an army of Hydra puppets, or a terrorist group with a couple of missiles, but this was…this was completely out of her league.

It swam with long lurches of it’s body, the water careening around it with waves that almost reached (Y/N)’s own platform that she was now standing on, her eyes closed as she attempted to control her breath and release the pain from her body, to be unfeeling, to just be a force of fucking nature. This was her final round. She just had to make it through this and then…then she would probably have to do the same thing tomorrow, but…was it worth it? What if she just stopped? What if-

No. Don’t think like that. Think of Steve. Think of Wanda, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Bucky, Sam, Thor. Think of Tony. Despite everything he’s done, think of your best friend. You have to do this. It’s not over until you’ve given up or you’re dead. This isn’t the end.

She heard the splash of water in front of her that indicated the approach of the Kraken. She opened her eyes to witness, easily, the most frightening creature she had ever seen in her entire life with jaws five times the size of an elephant with teeth longer than her own body, coming straight for her. With ease, she dodged the creature that launched itself over her head, snapping it’s jaws at her, but missed by only inches as she ducked to the edge of the platform. With a disgruntled bellow, it crashed back into the water that almost washed (Y/N) off of her platform, but she hung on.

The creature returned back to the water, eyeing her spitefully as it sunk into the shadows, continuing to circle her like Jaws. In a panic, (Y/N) realized she had no weapon. She managed to conjur a small amount of magic, but it wasn’t nearly enough to even wound this thing, much less kill it. However, she did realize it might be enough to hold it off for a moment if she concealed her strength until it was absolutely necessary.

As she scanned the water for the creature, she noticed something metallic floating in the water. A sword. The sword the girl had given to (Y/N). Confused that the metallic object was floating at all, she put it down to weird space metal and quickly tossed her question of her mind as she searched for a way to use the sword. But it was so far away. It lapped against the sides of the tank as the creature swam directly beneath it, probably hatching a plan further than just launching itself at her, a drain of energy on both their parts. Lucky for (Y/N), she as starting to hatch a plan of her own. It was dangerous, but she didn’t see what other option she had because, by that point, it was a battle of who killed who first.

The creature would appear every once in a while to peer up at (Y/N), dark eyes more intelligent than they should be staring her down in dead, cold silence. It was creepy as hell to say the least, but it was what (Y/N) needed to get out of this alive.

As the Kraken made its’ rounds, it reached the point where it would normally surface to eye the sorceress, but instead of sinking back under the water, (Y/N) threw an icy curse at the squid that knocked the thing out cold. Immediately, she dove into the water towards the sword. The water punched (Y/N) with a vengeance, but she ignored it as she swam on, opening her eyes in the water to see just how ridiculously deep this tank really went and honestly…she wished she didn’t know. Ignorace woud’ve been terribly bliss. She couldn’t even see the bottom where the monster had fallen, only the endless void of nothingness. With rushed strokes, she paddled across the arena and finally reached the sword, packing it into the sheath she still had on her back and turned to reach the rope ladder that extended into the water in order for her to reach the platform once again and have the ‘upper hand’ against the Kraken.

It seemed to take absolutely ages to reach the ladder, but right as she put her foot in the bottom rung, there was a vibration and rumble through the water that froze (Y/N) with utter terror. With a new sense of urgency, she began to climb the ladder, grasping hysterically at the rungs as her eyes betrayed every amount of fear she just couldn’t push down any longer.

She reached more than halfway up the ladder when a shadow appeared in the water directly below her, growing larger and larger by the second. She was only ten rungs away from the top when the creature catapulted itself from the water and into the air, it’s jaws stretched wide as the bottom of the ladder was swallowed deep into the back of it’s slimy throat, but at the last second (Y/N) swung to the side and unsheathed her sword. In the same motion, she slashed the monster in the eye. With a roar, the thing fell back into the water with a bloody eye, but as it fell, the ladder got caught on one of it’s teeth and (Y/N) had to sever the rope. However, as she tried to cut it away, the ladder lurched forward and almost shook her into the dark maw of the beast, but she caught hold of the ladder as her sword fell pitifully into oblivion.

“No!” (Y/N) howled in pain. All of her work. All of her effort, wasted. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” She curled in on herself, clutching the rope close to her body as she felt everything inside of herself die. This was how she was going down. A lifetime of running from Hydra and fighting for the protection of Earth from aliens of all shapes and sizes…but no, this was how she was going to die. In the jaws of a fucking fish. Her body never to be found, just the memory of her fight that would be forgotten by the next bloody battle in this godforsaken hellhole.

Fuck that.

She whipped her head up, eyes to the sky that was littered with multi-colored stars that she didn’t recognize. She needed to get home, back to where things made, somehow, a hell of a lot more sense than this twisted place. One painfully blistered hand after the other, she climbed the ladder towards the platform. Five more rungs…four…three…two-

The water gorged in on itself as the creature attacked again, almost catching (Y/N)’s foot this time as the ladder was ripped from it’s hinges at the base of the platform, but (Y/N) launched herself from the ladder, her hand barely grasping the edge of the platform as the gravel tumbled to the water below. She stared down at her bare, bloody feet that dripped red into the whirlpool of black and blue below. In a haste, she gripped her other hand on the platform and with aching agony, she managed to pull herself onto dry land where she rolled onto her feet, ready for her assailant to make it’s last goddamn move before its’ final demise. Swallowing her fear into the deepest parts of herself as the roar of the creature shook the entire stadium, making some people even cower in their own seats within the stands that were well-protected from the giant, unlike the very vulnerable (Y/N) who stood weaponless in the midst of a real monster.

In it’s last attempt at victory over the tiny girl, the Kraken stalked it’s prey with pain-staking patience. It’s vigilance to catch the sorceress off-guard drove her nearly mad until a shock coarsed through the beast’s body, signaling the Grandmaster’s own impatience. With it’s last shudder, the creature that was angrier than ever flared it’s tentacles out of the water and, instead of launching itself at the girl, it decided to climb the platform King Kong style.

Not in (Y/N)’s plan. She could feel the shudder of bolts and brackets breaking under the immense weight of the wretched beast that was making its way towards (Y/N) with incomprehensible speed. She had to think of something, anything…but nothing was coming to her. She looked towards the sky, the stands, her hands…the ground. The gravel. She got on her hands and knees and started to gather a pile of gravel into her empty sword sling. She only had seconds as the sweat dripped from her temples and into her eyes, but she blinked them away furiously as she dug for her life. Once one of the tentacles latched itself onto the edge of the platform, she knew she’d run out of time. With her sling full of gravel she bolted to the edge of the platform and dumped the entire thing into the only good eye of the giant squid that bellowed in anger. Using the small distraction, (Y/N) manipulated a sheath of silver ice longer than even the sword she’d been given, prayed to every religion she’d ever heard of, then jumped. Twisting her body towards the body of the best, she gouged the dagger into the sticky mess of bone-white flesh as guts rained down around her in a horror fest not even Stephen King could fantasize until she hit the water.

After a moment of shock, (Y/N) realized she was drowning. Only awoken by the sudden boom of the Kraken’s body slapping the surface of the water right over her head, the sliced-open corpse sprawled out like a storm cloud raining gore from above. With a jolt of adrenaline, (Y/N) swam through her haze as she felt the eyes of a million watching her every move. Did they want her to live? To die? For the creature to wake and eat her sinking corpse?

No. You are not going to die. Not like this.

Losing oxygen at every stroke, her lungs began to struggle as her body started to tremble, but she pushed on. As she always did, she pushed on. Her vision became blurry and the bubbles that escaped her lips had an odd shimmer to them that she just couldn’t explain. They captured her attention because they were just so…beautiful. The water turned pink around her as she gazed into the bubbles that, for some reason, she started to believe she could see the future in. She begged them to give her the answers, but they wouldn’t tell her. Black dots swirled into her vision, but she willed her arms and legs to keep going because she was just…so…close…

She broke the surface of the water, gasping terribly for air as she stumbled onto a small strip of ground that extended from the wall closest to her. Coughing and spluttering helplessly, she got onto her knees and waited among the deathly quiet silence for the creature to break the surface and kill her…but it never came. It seemed to her as if she waited for centuries until she finally started to laugh. Oh, yeah, laugh. Like a maniac.

“Yes!” (Y/N) exclaimed, jumping into the air as she ran her hands through her hair in relief, followed by the rancorous applause of the audience that almost toppled out of their seats in excitement as the ever-lasting standing ovation reached its peak, but she paid no mind to them as she celebrated her conquest. She had survived. She couldn’t believe it, but she had actually survived.

“Congratulations, Ice…uh, what was it again? Queen! Ice Queen! Yeah, that one. You are now eligible to fight my champion! How do you feel about that? Wait…” the Grandmaster paused as one of his lackeys whispered to him. “What do you mean there’s no mic down there? Well, get her one, please. I would like to speak with my new favorite contestant…yes, now! Why would I want it down there later?”

Suddenly, a man in a life jacket was lowered into the arena where (Y/N) stood, carefully escorting her to the center of the ring that had now closed out the watery grave where (Y/N) should’ve probably been at that point as she watched the ominous blue chasm trap her enemy for good beneath her very feet. She looked out into the audience and couldn’t believe how many spectators there were. This was the Super Bowl on crack. This was a massacre. This was just wrong on every level. They had posters and matching t-shirts. This was a sports game to them. This was just a regular Friday night for them.

She fliched at the hesitant tap on her shoulder, making the man cower away from her for a moment until he pointed up towards the Grandmaster’s booth, the echo of the speakers finally reaching (Y/N)’s ears.

“…so, in all honesty with every gory detail, how do you feel at this moment having just beat one of the most unbeatable creatures in my collection?”

It took her a moment to form words that only came out in a whisper until she cleared her throat. “I feel…I feel like I’m going to burn down this entire planet before you even have time to even make a pot of coffee tomorrow morning,” (Y/N) threatened, but apparently the crowd had become accustomed to her smart mouth and burst into a chorus of laughter that made her want to throw up worse than the smell of rotting sushi that surrounded her.

“Ooh, the fire in this girl! Ouch! I love it!” The Grandmaster exclaimed. “I’m absolutely obsessed! Can we get that on a t-shirt? I want that on a t-shirt. Someone write that down!”

Without a fight, the man and the other guards who flooded the arena escorted (Y/N) through the gate where she had first entered and into the weapons room where she supposed the other contenders practiced fighting before their match. She walked passed armor-clad warriors who cheered for her and patted her shoulders and praised her name, but her tunnel-vision led her straight for a bar top where a load of people sat drinking, staring up at the monitor that displayed a video of her slicing open the Kraken on a loop and many of her other ‘highlights.’

(Y/N) shoved a large blue guard from his seat that (Y/N) took control of, immediately popping the top off the bottle of whatever alcohol he had ordered that burst into flames in her hand upon opening. After her initial surprise, she shrugged and took a long swig of what tasted almost identical to Firewhiskey with only a slight burnt cherry aftertaste, but the burning sensation down her throat kicked her adrenaline back into high gear as she stared down the bartender who just threw his hands up in surrender.

“Free of charge for the proud contender,” he announced with a nervous smile.

“Damn right it is,” (Y/N) spit back as she downed the rest of the bottle, then looked back at the bartender. “Another.”

“Another?”

“I won ten rounds didn’t I? Nine more rounds to go, Mr. Firewhiskey,” (Y/N) dared, beckoning the bartender forward with a fresh bottle that she popped open as well, feeling eyes bore into her back as she sighed and turned to face the eavesdroppers. “What, you want a fucking autograph?” she called at the onlookers who slowly turned away, whispering among themselves as she continued to drink herself into a mind-numbing stupor.

Three bottles in, a girl shoved her way through the guards that kept a close, yet respectful distance from (Y/N) as she celebrated herself in silent victory.

“That was pretty impressive what you did down there,” the girl with an Asgardian accent complimented (Y/N), but she kept her eyes on the most expensive-looking bottle of whatever on one of the bar shelves behind the disgruntled bartender, comepltey ignoring the girl who sighed heavily. “Look, I don’t give out compliments often, but when I do, I mean it.”

“Then, keep them,” (Y/N) grumbled, glancing over at the girl whom she recognized as the one who’d given her the sword. “You,” (Y/N) accused her, pointing at the warrior. “You gave me the sword. Why?“

The girl shrugged. “You looked like you could use the help.”

“What the hell do you care?”

“I don’t,” the girl scoffed, stealing a bottle from a red-armored guard sitting next to (Y/N), cracking it open to take a drink. “It was just a sword. Don’t get sentimental about it.”

“Who are you?” (Y/N) questioned, her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the white markings on the girl’s face, her blue cape fluttering to her side as she shoved the guard off of his seat as well to sit beside (Y/N). After settling in, she extended her hand to (Y/N).

“Brunnhilde, but you can call me Valkyrie,” the girl greeted with a smirk on her face as (Y/N) shook her outstretched hand. “Enough with the bullshit stage names, what’s your real one?”

“(Y/N),” she responded. “I don’t see any ball and chain, so what’s your story?”

With that, Valkyrie stopped mid-swig and faced (Y/N) with a long sigh. “You’re not going to like this, but I’m a Scrapper. Whoever took you to this place, their job is my job. Now, before you hate me, just know that it’s a good living and most of the ones I take in actually enjoy and live for the fight…well, some of them do…alright, there have been like one or two, but look, none of them were as good and intelligent as you. Most are boneheads who need a knock around the cage in order to gain some sense, you know what I mean?”

(Y/N) just looked the girl up and down. “I wouldn’t sit so close to me right now if I were you,” she threatened, reaching for her poison again as Valkyrie groaned.

“Just hear me out,” Valkyrie proclaimed, but (Y/N) was hardly listening. “You’re stuck here anyway. There’s no leaving this place unless you tear apart the Grandmaster’s champion which, honestly, wouldn’t surprise me if you did. However, until the fight…why not enjoy the perks of this place? With someone as violent as yourself, I think we might get along nicely. We can drink and watch the fights and make fun of these pin heads around here. It could be so good, just trust me.”

“Trust you? Enjoy the perks?” (Y/N) scoffed into her fourth empty bottle. “I am being kept here against my will, sold into a ring to fight to my death. I’ve lost my fiancee, all of my friends, and now I’m on an alien planet drinking fire to, ironically, ease the pain.”

“I understand your frustration…however, there is plenty of better alcohol here and idiots to con out of cash, so…make the most of your situation, I wager.”

“Wager this,” (Y/N) snarled, snatching her fifth bottle from the bartender that had already opened it for her. “I’d rather stab myself in the neck than spend another second in the prescence of someone as disturbed as you,” (Y/N) slurred in a bit of a haze as she stumbled away from the disappointed-looking girl who just stared after the drunk sorceress. The guards crossed in front of (Y/N) who tried to walk out of the room, but she shook them off. “Hands off you second-rate Power Rangers.”

And with that, the exhausted sorceress fell to the ground in a drunk stupor just as she had planned.

(Y/N) stared up at the white ceiling in her cell, just wishing for a bit of weed to possibly add any sort of interest to her situation. Maybe some shrooms, but that was just a fantasy. All she could think about was what she would do to Loki once she got out of that cell and wondered where Steve and Sam were at that moment…and also if God were to sneeze, who would bless him? Or her? Or them? Who knows?

Again, she had no idea how much time had passed before she heard something other than medics entering her room. It was a burly man, as she could tell by the depth of his voice. He was shouting at the guards, threatening them with his ‘mighty thunder,’ or something…holy shit…

(Y/N) bolted up and opened her eyes just in time to watch as Thor moved across the translucent side of (Y/N)’s cell, his arms and legs bound to the same chair she had arrived in. She launched herself towards the glass and started pounding and shouting at the god was too preoccupied with useless threats to turn his head fast enough to see her. (Y/N) pounded the glass one last time in fury as she stared blankly at the empty space in Thor’s wake.

Okay, this is a good thing. Thor is trapped here also…alright, that’s selfish, but whatever. It’s hopeful…I’m getting the hell out of this place. I’m going home.

*hope y’all liked it! Let me know! I always love to read any sort of feedback*

*if anyone needs it for their own writing, here’s the link for the Thor: Ragnarok script*

MASTERLIST

Are you reposting chapter five and up??? I swear I’ve read it before

Fri, 19 Jan 2018 02:57:06 -0500

Alright, I have gotten this question a lot recently, so let me just take a second to address and apologize for not explaining myself before posting this chapter. Yes, technically this is a re-post, but a cleaned up version. I deleted four other chapters that I condensed into this one chapter. I feel like it made more sense and progressed the storyline without overdoing it as much as the original four chapters had (but of course I’m still overdramatic as always. All about that angst life). Anyway, it just warms my heart that anybody even cared enough to ask about this and really showed a genuine interest in my work. Thank you so much to you all and I hope this cleared things up! xx

Chapter 5: The Escape From Earth {Avengers x Fem!Reader}

Wed, 17 Jan 2018 19:37:00 -0500

~Part 5~ The Life of an Avenger: Civil War

Summary: After the ‘war’ in Leipzig/Halle Airport that left (Y/N) unconcious from a blow to the head and Bucky armless, T’Challa hosts the Captain and his broken partners in Wakanda, awaiting the decision of what to do next as the future crashes into them faster than they were ready for.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some CACW spoilers

(Y/N) was welcomed back into the world of the living by Steve, his hand over the IV in hers as her eyes fluttered awake to the blank white hospital room, easily the cleanest one she’d ever been in, only the serene blue of his eyes to distract her from the piercing brightness. The room was borderline heavenly to her, but that could’ve easily been the drugs.

Steve softly explained what had happened before and after she had blacked out, her mind slowly churning up blurry images of the airport in Germany: Bucky and T’Challa throat-to-throat, scarlet magic raining cars from the parking garage above, a flash of red and blue through the sky, narrowly escaping a collapsing building, a silver Iron Man suit free-falling to the earth below, the endless expanse of a frozen tundra, gunshot wounds, Helmut Zemo hiding among the shadows, the shock of watching two of the people she trusted most in the world almost kill each other, and pain. So much bloody pain.

Doctors and nurses ghosted through her room, but (Y/N) barely noticed. All she could manage was to attempt to understand the shattered pieces of her memory, to make any sort of sense of why she was where she was. Not just physically why she was in Wakanda, but why any of the past few weeks were worth the pain. Shock didn’t pass for a long time…not until he entered the room.

“You son of a bitch!” (Y/N) snarled as her body uncontrollably lurched towards the new king, images of the black shadow following in her footsteps suddenly arose. With teeth bared, (Y/N) launched in to attack, but Steve held her down in a haste, surprised by her sudden alertness. “You could have stopped them! You were there in Siberia and you knew Bucky was innocent. Why did you not try to stop them from killing each other?” (Y/N) accused T’Challa, his features composed as if carved from stone, but his rigidness only emphasized what (Y/N) perceived as guilt in his dark eyes.

“It was not my place to intervene any longer in the personal affairs of your team,” T’Challa responded. “The man who murdered my father was about to get away, to reach a higher place beyond death by taking his own life before being held responsible for what he had done. I had to stop him. For my father.”

“And now we have another criminal to babysit. We’re all thankful for your uncompromising humanity,” (Y/N) muttered as a dark look came over her face. “You should have just let him die.” The room went silent, giving (Y/N) a moment to realize that she was completely misplacing her anger. She felt rage, but the look in T’Challa’s eyes told her that her anger was aimed for someone else. Who, was the question though.

“(Y/N), he offered to help us,” Steve whispered to her, his soothing touch allowing (Y/N) to relax into tranquility as she took a few deep breaths to stop her head from spinning. “If it weren’t for him and the medical staff here, I’m not sure if you and Buck would’ve…just be happy that we’re both still here. I’m here, (Y/N).”

“You’re right,” (Y/N) whispered back, tears coming to her eyes. A small breakdown was bound to happen eventually. Now seemed a good a time as ever, but (Y/N) swallowed them down for just a second longer to lock her gaze with T’Challa. “I’m sorry I went full she-demon on you. That was-”

“I understand,” T’Challa interjected as (Y/N) finally deciphered the concern behind his eyes. “You’ve been through quite an endeavor, Miss (Y/L/N). And I don’t just speak of these last few weeks. I’m so sorry for how you’ve suffered, and the wrongful hand I had in that suffering. So, I should be the one apologizing to you.”

“Thank you,” (Y/N) accepted quietly with a nod towards the king. “You were just doing what you thought was right. So, I suppose this is an official truce?”

“Indeed it is,” T’Challa smiled warmly reaching out to take (Y/N)’s hand. “The honor is all mine, Miss (Y/L/N).”

“We’re in a state of kumbaya by this point. Pretty sure you can call me by my first name.”

“My pleasure…(Y/N),” T’Challa welcomed with a slight bow. “I will leave you two to decide your next move, but just know that you are both welcome to stay as long as you feel comfortable.”

“Both of us?” (Y/N) questioned. “What about Bucky? Did something happen? Is he-”

“He’s fine,” Steve reassured quickly. “He’s just…not coming with us when we leave. He’s staying here in a cryochamber.”

And suddenly, the rage returned. It wasn’t the blood-spilling rage she’d felt before, but it was still something. After fighting with Steve about her need for rest, they compromised with a wheelchair to Bucky’s chamber to…have a little talk.

“What the hell do you mean you’re staying here?” (Y/N) demanded as she was wheeled into the almost blindingly white room where Bucky sat hunched over, his sullen eyes taking in (Y/N)’s sharp features, memorizing every edge of her face and the silver iridescence of her eyes before he was gone.

“(Y/N)-” Bucky started with a sigh, but she was too fed up with everyone’s shit.

“No. We spent years searching for you, and now that we’ve finally found you, you’re gonna just ditch us for a nap?”

“I’m not-”

“Damn right, you’re not. We’re leaving. This pity party doesn’t suit you-”

“(Y/N),” Bucky asserted, locking eyes with his old Hydra cell-mate. “I can’t trust my own mind,” he shrugged, a worn smile barely ghosting his lips. “So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing.”

“For who, Bucky?” (Y/N) argued. “Not for me. Not for Steve. And not for you. Wakanda might be tight knit, but remaining a sitting target in a time like this…not a good move, Brooks.”

It was a lot of arguing and ‘painting pictures’ later before (Y/N)’s head was rested on Bucky’s good shoulder, tears streaming down her face as he rubbed her arm in comforting circles.

“I don’t want to leave you again,” (Y/N) whispered, her heart ripped in pieces as her find flashed back to the image of Bucky lying, as she had thought, dead on the stained, concrete floor of Hydra as she ran for her own life. The tears only got worse from there.

“Nobody’s leaving anybody,” Bucky asserted fiercely. “They just have to work out the kinks in my brain and everything will be fine. We’ll travel just like we said. It’s going to be okay. You’re too strong to be crying over this. Just focus on surviving and you’ll figure it out, you understand?”

“I don’t want to, but I do.”

“Good. Stay safe, Wonderland,” Bucky smiled charmingly with a tinge of sadness crossing his face as he kissed (Y/N) on the forehead. He stood up slowly as he approached Steve, giving him a final embrace as Steve patted him hard on the back.

And with that, Steve and (Y/N) watched as one of their closest friends was frozen into cold silence, ice carving out the edges of his jawline and nose after his final breath. This wasn’t a funeral, but somehow to (Y/N), it felt like one.

It wasn’t long before decisions had to be made about where her and Steve were to hide out and (Y/N) threw out, what she considered to be, her ‘ridiculous’ idea.

“What about Asgard?”

“Yes, what about it?” Steve questioned back as he handed (Y/N) the chamomile tea he had made for her in the hopes of getting her back to sleep. After being released from the medical unit, they were placed in the guest chambers of T’Challa’s palace. Black on gold marble gleaming wickedly across the floors, matching the elaborate furniture featuring exquisite details only royalty could contain as a fire burned in the oversized fireplace next to the round, king bed of black velvet. Gold curtains billowed overhead in an array of whimsical beauty where (Y/N) sat, wrapping her hands around the warm, golden mug as her eyes traced the pages of the book in her lap that detailed the many Norse myths including that of Hela, goddess of Death. She couldn’t figure out why Thor had never mentioned the goddess to her through all of his many ramblings. Scary as she was, if (Y/N) were to die, she would totally want it to be at the hands of this badass. She could wield knives from thin-fucking-air!

“Why don’t we hide out there?” (Y/N) proposed.

“And how would that work?” Steve coaxed, surpising (Y/N) that he would even entertain the notion. Desperate times, she supposed.

“Um, well…nobody there is specifically looking to lock us up in a floating deathtrap. And, as of right now, I don’t have the Orb, so nobody will be dedicated to ripping my chest out in search of it. And, finally…I’m tired of Earth’s bullshit. I need a break.”

“Me too,” Steve agreed, further shocking (Y/N). Apparently the shock was shown on her face, making Steve laugh. “While you were unconcious, I had a lot of time to think. And, as strange as it sounds, Asgard was the safest place I could think of. I doubt Thor’s even up there now, but-”

“But I know others there,” (Y/N) filled in.

“Exactly,” Steve finished, his hand holding (Y/N)’s cheek as his thumb traced her skin like silk. It was a pure moment until there was a knock on the door. (Y/N) raised her eyebrow at Steve, checking the time on her phone that read 12:03 AM. Steve shook his head as he crossed the room to answer it.

“Yes? Can we help you?” Steve called through the closed door. There was a muffled response that (Y/N) couldn’t make out until Steve swung the door open to reveal the king himself in a state of panic.

“I don’t mean to intrude, but I have an urgent matter to discuss with you,” T’Challa asserted harshly to Steve as he shut the door behind himself. “They’re coming. About ten minutes out. My intelligence are not entirely certain if Stark sent them or not, but three helicopters were spotted on their way to this location.”

Steve took a quick worried glance over at (Y/N) who was now leaning in the archway next to the bed, arms crossed as a suspicious look crossed her face.

“How did they find us? It’s only been three days,” (Y/N) dared, composure masking most of the disbelief in her voice. She didn’t know why, but she could sense something was off about the situation.

“I-I am not sure,” T’Challa hastened, an odd mannerism (Y/N) had never seen him possess before. “But, you must go. I know of a man who can help you to wherever you need to go. His name is Doctor Stephen Strange.”

“Strange?” (Y/N) asked as she recognized the name.

“You know him?” Steve inquired.

“Yeah, he was one of the surgeons Tony had tried to recruit for me. Unfortuantely, he was a neurosurgeon. Besides, he would’ve totally said no to my ‘impossible’ case anyway. Wouldn’t want to tarnish such a perfect record,” (Y/N) shook her head in frusturation. “He disappeared about a month later. How could he help us?”

T’Challa smirked. “He is not simply a man. He posesses powers beyond this realm. I have a jet to fly you out to his Sanctum in New York City. 177A Bleeker Street. He is already expecting you per my request. You have now seven minutes to reach said jet before they-”

Explosions shuddered the entire palace as the crystalline chandeliers shattered to the polished floor below. It would’ve been almost beautiful in a weird way if only (Y/N)’s heart hadn’t dropped into her stomach as Steve pulled her hand to hold her close to his chest, his heart beating furiously in (Y/N)’s ear.

“Take us to the jet,” Steve commanded.

Steve and (Y/N) arrived on Strange’s doorstep like a couple of beggars, dressed in normal clothing as if they were about to take a day trip through Central Park like they used to. The only difference was the adornment of face masks that transformed each of them into nobodies. It was almost sundown as (Y/N) reached up to knock on the large, ancient wooden door before them, but it swung open before she could even fully extend her arm. The dark hallway welcomed them ominously. (Y/N) took a step towards the door first, but Steve protectively stepped in front of her, crouching cautiously as he pulled her along into the New York Sanctum. Both of their senses were tingling, waiting for the moment to strike if need be. However, the inviting nature of the Sanctum didn’t appear to be a menacing location. In fact, it was almost homely. Like an old, cherished library complete with a cozy fireplace burning in the corner of the room they were about to enter.

“I don’t bring guests here often, but when I do, I’d prefer if they weren’t readying themselves to attack me,” a deep voice called from the cozy room as Steve and (Y/N) rounded the corner. A man, whom (Y/N) took a wild guess and took for Stephen Stange, lounged comfortably, yet professionally in a leather chair beside the fireplace, an air of arrogance surrounding his presence as he grinned at the couple who awkwardly uprightened themselves in front of him.

“Then maybe answer the door yourself next time,” (Y/N) answered, making the well-shaved man chuckle. Her and Steve removed their masks revealing their real identities. “You wouldn’t believe how useful these things are. Surprising that we haven’t used them more over the years,” (Y/N) shrugged thoughtfully as she stuffed the mask in her bag, then looked back towards Strange. He reminded her terribly of a pre-Avengers Tony, goatee and all, but she pushed that thought down as he stood to cross the room, extending his hand towards her.

“Doctor Stephen Strange, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Strange addressed her coridally, his slightly deformed hands taking hers gently. She could feel the precision of his movements despite the small tremble of his grip, realizing how much of a talented surgeon he must’ve once been, possibly still could be.

“I’m sure it is,” (Y/N) sassed, allowing Strange another laugh with an appreciative glance her way as he shook Steve’s hand, exchanging further pleasantries.

“Captain,” Strange addressed.

“Doctor,” Steve responded, seeming to almost size each other up. It was just the way people like them had to be, always on edge, ready to fight for their lives at a moment’s notice. The end result clearly remained a mutual respect for each other as the allies relaxed a bit. “Thank you for taking us in. I’m not sure how much T’Challa has told you-”

“Yes, I’m quite aware of your need for transportation. Lucky for you, that’s one of my many specialties,” Strange boasted proudly.

“So, you’re in full knowledge of our situation, then?”

“If you’re asking whether I will turn you in, or not. My answer is no. There are far bigger plans for you two outside of a prison cell. Wouldn’t want to impede on the universe’s plan now would we?”

“Great!” (Y/N) exclaimed, letting a dramatic sigh escape her lungs. “We don’t have time to bullshit each other. Since you know the plan, are you in or out?”

“I wouldn’t have invited you in if I believed otherwise,” Strange answered calmly. “I find your stance against the Accords to be commendable. A waste of time in the grand scheme of things, but I understand your side far more than any arguement Stark could make. New York was a success. I wouldn’t have this Sanctuary to protect if it weren’t for you. So, my promise to send you both safely on your way is now officially in place.”

“So glad that you feel that way,” (Y/N) smiled, then looked out the window for a moment. “Because we…um…actually have two requests to make.”

“Hm…” Strange mused. “Go on.”

“Other than helping us to Asgard, we would like to illegally break out our co-conspirators from the most impenatrable prison in the entire world,” (Y/N) proposed almost batting her eyelashes at him. “What do you say?”

“I would say you’re insane, but that would be an understatement,” Strange countered. Steve would typically defend (Y/N) from a comment like that, but he had to admit, it was asking a lot of someone.

“Come on? With a man of your abilities, how could this possibly go wrong?” (Y/N) coaxed with a winning smile, but Strange just grinned.

“As much as I would love to list all of the reasons, I won’t. I made a promise to you both, and I intend to keep it,” Strange avowed. “I’m all in. Besides, I have done far more impossible things than this. Speaking of impossible, I have one request of my own.”

“Well, I can’t promise you ‘anything’ because, honestly, I don’t have much to give these days,” (Y/N) responded with a shrug.

“This is something you can definitely manage,” Strange promised, becoming serious for a moment, as if he were about to give one of his patients bad news. “When you find the Orb, I would prefer to be the surgeon that replaces it for you.”

“No,” Steve objected, immediately tensing up like a wall between Strange and (Y/N), but she simply tilted her head curiously.

“Why?” (Y/N) questioned.

“The Orb possesses powers that if trusted in the wrong hands, or…chest cavity, could cause some serious damage as it recently has in Xandar.”

“In where?”

“Xandar. I don’t know,” Strange groaned, frustrated at not knowing things, still struggling with his practice to let things be as they are. “Apparently, it’s a planet in a completely different realm that’s not much unlike Earth except, you know, some people are blue,” Strange explained, shaking his head. “One of those blue guys called Ronan tried to take it over, but this group of, and I’ll call this right now, Space Avengers, who go by ‘Guardians of the Galaxy,’ which stupid name, but who the hell am I to judge? Anyway, the Guardians stopped him. Now the stone is allegedly somewhere on that planet, I guess.” Steve and (Y/N) just stared at Strange for a moment, then glanced at each other, trying to figure out if he was lying or not, but couldn’t find any reason for him to do so. Besides, they’ve heard of and experienced, oddly, much weirder things.

Still a bit miffed, (Y/N) decided to break the silence. “God, for legendary beacons of power, these stones are passed around like fucking chlamydia.”

“You’re telling me,” Strange chuckled, but the truth of the comment was almost too real for him as he waved those thoughts away. “Point is,” Strange continued heavily,” once you find it, and you will want to find it, I want to overlook every detail of the replacement process. I can only trust myself with something this risky, and if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

“So, then you’re implying that you want me to find the stone?”

“From what I’ve witnessed and heard of, you’re stronger and more trustworthy than almost anyone I’ve ever met,” Strange approved. “I’ve come to expect great things from you in the future. Even this small exchange has abolished any doubts I’ve had of you. If anyone is to have the Orb, I’d prefer it to be you.”

That wasn’t anything like (Y/N) had expected walking back into New York that day. All she had expected was a wizard to help ship herself and Steve to Asgard, and maybe a churro before they left. The shock was prevalent in (Y/N)’s eyes as her lips attempted to form words, but Steve beat her to it.

“No, I don’t care what you want,” Steve asserted with dark eyes, putting his arm instinctively around (Y/N) as she rolled her eyes, but accepted his gentle warmth and strength. “You’re not cutting into my fiancee. If we find the stone, then we’ll deal with it. We already have a doctor that knows (Y/N)’s history.”

“Bruce isn’t a surgeon, Steve,” (Y/N) protested softly, but Steve was riled up.

“Yeah, well I trust him a hell of a lot more than I trust this guy. His hands…” Steve trailed off, then turned back to Strange defensively. “No disrespect, Doctor.”

“No, of course, Captain. You would never insult me like that,” Strange retorted sarcastically.

“Real subtle, Steve,” (Y/N) sighed, pulling away from him as she extended her hand towards Strange. “If this is what you really want, then it’s a deal. I can’t think of any ulterior motives, so I suppose I’ll just have to trust you.”

“(Y/N)…” Steve began to argue, but (Y/N) waved him off.

“If you don’t trust him, then just trust me, okay?” (Y/N) asserted to Steve. She always attempted to never go through with a decision without him by her side, but sometimes, it got a bit tenuous. Steve gazed painfully at (Y/N), but he knew her intuitions were strong, especially when it came to people, so he nodded in agreement. Strange took (Y/N)’s outstretched hand in both of his own and looked deep into her eyes.

“I promise to take the utmost care of you,” Strange vowed. “That’s not a promise I take lightly with someone’s life in my hands. She’ll be safe,” Strange assured Steve, but Steve barely glanced at him as he took (Y/N)’s hand back.

“She’d better be,” Steve threatened lowly as (Y/N) just smiled at Strange.

“Alright! Who’s ready to do some illegal shit?” (Y/N) announced excitedly, breaking the tension of the room.

Strange began to gather materials for the break-in by preparing spells and practicing incantations while Steve and (Y/N) spent a well-earned second together to sit by the fire with steaming cups of coffee. It’s the first halfway normal thing they’d done in a long time, feeling out of place as the world seemed to crumble around them. At first, (Y/N) had cunningly attempted to get Strange to explain his methods, but her curiosity was far from satiated as she was only met with a silencing curse from Strange until she met Steve back at the fireplace in the next room over. Not her best work.

Again, this reminded her much of the early days in Tony’s lab, only Bruce patiently answering her endless questions. It was a short time later when Tony realized (Y/N)’s intelligence and her ability to absorb information with such finesse that he never wanted her to leave his side. Plus, her witty commentary was almost always a welcomed source of entertainment.

“So, fiancee, huh?” (Y/N) pointed out to Steve, taking a cheeky sip of coffee as she peered up at him under her dark eyelashes, making Steve blush.

“Fiancee sounds more important than girlfriend and, well, the idea’s always been up in the air. We’re going get married anyway. Everyone knows that,” Steve shrugged, his confidence in that statement completely unwavering making (Y/N) smile behind her mug.

“Oh, obviously,” (Y/N) nodded, dimples forming on her cheeks. “I mean, if this was the proposal-”

“No!” Steve choked, laughing. “No, I still want a proper proposal for you. I have a plan, I promise.”

“I know you do. You’re annoyingly, romanticly, old-fashioned that way,” (Y/N) teased smugly. “But, all I’m saying is that if this were a proposal…I’d say yes.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed indifferently with a small grin towards the fireplace.

“Okay,” (Y/N) whispered, her eyes appraising the silver sunlight drifting through the lining of the curtains over the large window across the room. Quickly, they stole glances at each other, blushing at being caught. Finally, like a jolt of electricity Steve pulled (Y/N)’s lips to his, his fingertips grazing her soft jawline as she wrapped her legs around his torso, lacing her cold fingertips through his messy blonde hair, unstructured just the way she liked it. Slowly, desire brought her hands down his muscular back, nails biting into his shirt when the pleasure hit her nerves, but she wanted more. She dragged her hands from his back to his solid torso that flexed under her touch as one of his hands trailed the side of her neck down to between her thighs.

“I love you, (Y/N),” Steve moaned, his senses heightened as her scent inflated his lungs the way he had wanted it to for weeks now.

“I love you too,” (Y/N) moaned back with a quick smile, a phrase she’d almost forgotten during all of the fighting and pain, but she sure as hell remembered it now. They continued to trace each others bodies in arcs of pleasure until they both realized they weren’t alone.

“Don’t mean to interrupt, but uh…” Strange postulated with raised eyebrows, but (Y/N) stopped him with a laugh.

“No, it’s okay,” (Y/N) smiled, unbothered as she disentangled herself from a suddenly shy Steve. “We’re good, we’re ready. Whatever your plan is, we’re game. Show us the way, Master.”

“Doctor, and if you may,” Strange offered as he motioned towards the next room, stepping aside as (Y/N) glided through the archway followed by Steve who shook hands with Strange attempting to regain his dignity that in (Y/N)’s opinion, wasn’t lost in the first place, but he had his own beliefs.

“As if you’ve never been caught in the on-call room before,” (Y/N) teased the doctor who just scoffed.

“Not everything is like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy,” Strange chided as he pulled out a golden ring from the pocket of his cape, then turned to (Y/N) who held her eyebrow in a high arc, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Alright, maybe once or twice,” Strange admitted with a defeated sigh, letting Steve relax a bit.

“Right,” (Y/N) nodded with a smirk. “So, which cereal box did you dig that thing out of?”

“Funny. No, these are Sling Rings,” Strange explained, rolling his eyes at (Y/N). “They hold the power to sustain dimensional portals that allow it’s users to travel from one place to the next. Very useful way of avoiding New York traffic.”

“I can imagine,” (Y/N) jested as a mischievious look came across her face. “So, you’re saying you could take us anywhere?”

“Yes…?” Strange answered cautiously.

“Prove it,” (Y/N) wagered cunningly, making Strange nod boisterously as he turned towards the large window. He raised his right hand with the Sling Ring gradually, gaining velocity as he formed a golden circle midair, sparks flickering off the edges until…Hong Kong. The brightly lit market stalls stretched farther than the image displayed, but the smell of Stinky Tofu (real thing, look it up) wafted through the projection bringing (Y/N) back to her days on the streets. But that didn’t stop her curiousity there. She leaned into the portal, the chilling nightly breeze picked up by the passing biker, whisking her hair across her face contradicted the warmth of the fireplace toasting her lower body. Steadily, she shifted back and forth until she seemed satisfied with that part. Carefully, she walked around the portal, examining it’s double sided nature that flipped the image from the opposite side looking towards the street’s East versus West. “That’s um…that’s Temple Street, right?”

“Yes,” Strange appraised, “how did you know…?”

“Sold a guy weed there once,” (Y/N) answered, leaving the two men speechless.

“You know…all drugs are illegal in Hong Kong,” Strange emphasized slowly, while (Y/N) just stared wide eyed at him for a moment.

“So, what else you got there, doc?” (Y/N) countered quickly, ignoring Steve who had his head in his hands.

“Um…well, everywhere,” Strange continued, shaking his head. “All the places I’ve saved from utter destruction and chaos,” Strange motioned to Hong Kong, making (Y/N) roll her eyes. “And almost every and any other place you can think of.”

“Charlie Sheen’s crack den?” (Y/N) asked, breaking both Steve and Strange into fits of laughter. “Hey, you said everywhere. Just checking every corner.”

“That’s very forward thinking of you,” Strange complimented sarcastically. “Alright, if you’re finished making jokes, I’d actually recommend we begin breaking the law now.”

“Agreed,” Steve added, resuming his soldierly composure. “Any questions before we get in there?” He asked, then held his hand in front of (Y/N). “Questions that pertain to the cruciality of the mission.” (Y/N) just held her hands up in surrender, keeping her mum for once. “Perfect, you know what to do. Stick to the plan.” (Y/N) could tell Strange didn’t appreciate being told what to do, but he kept quiet anyway.

(Y/N) was first through the portal, followed closely behind by Strange, stepping right in front of a shocked pair of technicians who swiveled their chairs away from their computer screens towards the sorceress herself, then scrambled for their guns.

“It’s almost sad to be honest,” (Y/N) commented pitifully as she half-heartedly flicked her pointer finger towards the men who instantly froze in a capsule of silver. “They don’t even have a chance.”

“How do you know that you’re not hurting them?” Strange asked curiously, examining the frozen bodies like fossils in Antarctica.

“I can’t really explain it,” (Y/N) shrugged. “It’s just a gut feeling. If I want someone dead, they’ll be dead.”

“Comforting,” Strange muttered as Steve overrode the alarm system of the West Wing corridor where Wanda, Clint, Sam, and Scott were being held.

“Alright…we’re in,” Steve announced, pointing towards Strange.

“Actually, I’d like to allow (Y/N) the honors,” Strange postulated making (Y/N) scoff, folding her arms in front of her.

“How messy would you like this to be?” She cautioned playfully. Strange just huffed as he conjured a portal straight into the former-Avengers’ cell chamber, guards filled to the brim that Strange immediately put to sleep under a short-termed curse, falling to their knees in unison. As soon as her foot was through the portal, (Y/N) rushed over to Wanda’s cell where the witch sat curled in the corner, a navy blue straight jacket constricting her small body. (Y/N) manipulated a blade of ice that she demolished the cell’s multiple padlocks to pieces with, unlocking the prison door. She hurried over to the girl’s side, who barely had the energy to look up at her.

“(Y/N)?” Wanda croaked as her fuzzy vision finally focused on her best friend’s glorious face. “(Y/N)!” Wanda shot up instantly as (Y/N)’s hands unlatched every hinge that spitefully bound her roommate’s arms. Once the ties were torn off, Wanda crashed into (Y/N), tears and matted hair entwining as the two cried for each other. “You came back. I knew you would come back.”

“I would miss you too much if I didn’t,” (Y/N) choked out, burying her face in her (let’s be real here, by this point) sister’s shoulder as Wanda squeezed her a bit tighter. “Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, no. I’m fine,” Wanda smiled, gently brushing the pieces of hair from (Y/N)’s eyes as they pulled apart to appreciate each other. “I’m just happy you and Steve came for us.”

“How could we not? I might be made of ice, but I’m not a total bitch,” (Y/N) joked, allowing Wanda to lean on her as they met with the others in the center of the chamber. Steve was embracing Sam, revitalizing their bromance as Sam apologized for selling them out to Tony.

“You just wanted to help us in any way you could,” Steve reassured. “Although completely unnecessary, you couldn’t have known what was really going on. I’ll explain later, but in the meantime-”

“Is anyone gonna let me out?” Scott objected, hands glued to the bars as his puppy dog eyes scanned the rest of the team. “Guys? Hello?”

“Why? Prison looks good on you,” Clint teased as Strange unlocked Scott’s door with a half-assed flick of his hand and a groan.

“Thanks…guy I’ve never met before,” Scott beamed awkwardly, then turned to (Y/N) and Steve. “Who’s this guy?”

“An ally,” Steve answered as (Y/N) simultaneously answered without pause, “discount Harry Potter.” Clint lost it. “…an ally,” (Y/N) corrected herself, pulling her ‘hope this gets me out of trouble if I’m cute enough smile.’

“My girl,” Clint congratulated, embracing (Y/N) in a bear hug. “I’ve never been happier to see you. It’s been too long, kid.”

“Much too long,” (Y/N) echoed her long-time mentor, emotion creeping into her voice as it had been all day. Obviously, this was a very emotional time. “Hey, remember when you said you were retiring? That was fucking hilarious.”

“What can I say?” Clint grinned. “I’m just a downright comedian.”

“Well, as nice and cuddly as this all is, we should probably get out here now before the reinforcements show up,” Strange ordered, turning to (Y/N) and pointing at her ice sculpture of a man whom began to melt. “Let’s avoid too much mess.”

“Right, becuase nobody could figure out who broke out the former Avengers while the other half of the fugitive former Avengers run frisky and free,” (Y/N) countered sarcastically with a straight look on her face. “Golly gee, now that’s a real mystery, Holmes.”

“Just get in the goddamn portal,” Strange groaned, ushering everyone into the New York Sanctum. Scott looked like he was about to piss himself with excitement as questions cascaded from his tongue.

All Clint had to whisper to (Y/N) was, “did the wizard just call us ‘cuddly’?”

A full dinner of take-out and plenty of alcohol later, Clint decided to stay back on Earth with his kids. They all agreed that Tony wouldn’t allow Clint and his family to be discovered on his farm, so with plenty of tearful goodbyes and promises to tell Lila ‘hi’ from (Y/N), Strange sent Clint back to his homestead. Scott was going to be the same way, but to Sam’s utter displeasure, he decided to join Steve, (Y/N), and himself to Asgard in order to keep all eyes off his daughter. He’d rather be back with her when the time was right rather than risk her well-being by being arrested in front of her…again.

Now, Wanda…Wanda almost caused an uprising with just one phase.

“I think I have to stay here for now,” Wanda blurted out in the middle of Steve and Sam’s rendition of what really went down in Liepzig for Strange’s and (Y/N)’s benefit (as she only remembered from Tony blowing up their helicopter to Siberia, on).

“Wait…what?” (Y/N) almost choked.

“I just…I really feel like I need to talk to Vision,” Wanda explained carefully. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but-”

“Girl, no,” (Y/N) objected sympathetically, taking Wanda’s hand. “Look, I say this as your best friend, but…he ain’t shit. He let them lock you up, the very thing he promised that he would never let happen to you. Why do you think he even deserves you?”

It was a flipped table and a chandelier popsicle later that (Y/N) finally relented, and even then she still warned Wanda to be careful and to remain vigilant.

“He might make you feel safe. Like nothing in the world could ever hurt you becuase he’s there to ‘protect’ you,” (Y/N) cautioned as Strange conjured the portal for the Avengers Headquarters. “Just remember that you will always be more powerful than him. You can always control him…with more than just your witchy voo doo.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, but I’ll be fine,” Wanda scoffed, pulling (Y/N) in for one last hug. “I’ll meet you in Asgard as soon as I can, whether I’m with Vision, or not.”

“Not,” (Y/N) stated apathetically, earning a punch in the shoulder. “Just stay safe.”

“I will,” Wanda promised, disappearing into the night as the portal closed behind her, leaving (Y/N) to stare blankly at the empty space she left.

“So, Asgard’s just like Olympus, but for Norse gods, right?” Scott asked.

Right before the foursome was about to be shot into space, Strange pulled (Y/N) off to the side, his eyebrows knitted together with clear worry lines. “I just wanted to preface this by saying that this is merely alleged information, but…as far as I’ve heard, the Orb was moved from Xandar to Asgard into Odin’s own collection. First chance you get, I’d do a bit of searching.”

“Why didn’t you tell Steve this? And why the hell would I risk pissing off the Asgardians for an alleged rumor?” (Y/N) whispered back, mimicking Strange’s attempts at secrecy.

“I didn’t tell him because he might try to stop you,” Strange admitted. “I can tell he’d protect you in any way possible, so if you have the chance, just take it.” (Y/N) appreciated his candor, and couldn’t help but agree with him. Sometimes Steve was a bit overbearing, but clearly not without reason. “And to answer your second question,” Strange continued, “Sweetheart, I was a rumor too, wasn’t I?”

“Hm,” (Y/N) mused with a tight-lipped smile. “You know, if you didn’t call me sweetheart, I’d say that was a good point through and through, but instead…” (Y/N) burns his arm. “I’ll leave it at that.”

“Ow! Dammit!” Strange cursed under his breath, rubbing the red patch on his arm. “You’re still doing it though, right?” (Y/N) smirked and nodded at the doctor in fierce affirmation. He quickly realized that resisting her fire would be like a tree resisting the power of a crack of lightning.

“Just making sure the package for Stark is ready to go,” Steve addressed as he approached Strange, taking one last look over the letter he had written and the photo of (Y/N)’s enticing addition (a double chocolate cake that read ‘You’re tacky, and I hate you’) as he sealed up the envelope and handed it to Strange. “Thank you for promising a discreet delivery. You’ve done more for us than we could’ve ever imagined and I can’t thank you enough.”

“He’s totally right,” (Y/N) noted as she took Steve’s hand. “Are you sure cutting me open is the only thing we can do to repay you? We can’t…I don’t know…buy you dinner, make an everlasting ice sculpture of your favorite 90′s rapper? Have Captain America make an appearance at some kid’s birthday party? Anything?”

“No,” Strange smiled in amusement. “That is my only request, and believe me, it’ll all be worth it.”

“How are you so sure? This is all arbitrary unless I even find the stone.”

“The universe always has a way of balancing itself out,” Strange advised coyly. “Your situation is all the same. It will come full circle within due time.”

“Well, now that the ominous, fateful fortune telling is out of the way, shall we, gentlemen?” (Y/N) offered theatritrically, motioning for everyone to enter the portal.

“Oh, we shall,” Scott approved, excitedly rubbing his hands together as he stared into the void. A second later, his face morphed into one of slight fear as he tried to push Sam first. “On second thought, after you, Bird Man.”

“As much as I appreciate your cowardice, I think it’s time to prove your worth, Tic Tac,” Sam taunted, masking his own fear of the portal into oblivion. This lasted for quite a while, eventually turning into just a pissing contest about which of their abilities would put them on the Iron Throne first if they were in Game of Thrones. Eventually, (Y/N) had had enough. With a huff, she marched between the two ‘Jon Snows,’ nether one accepting any other comparison.

“You idiots,” (Y/N) stormed, turning to face her boys as she raised a cheeky eyebrow at Steve. “Meet you in Asgard.”

“In Asgard, darling,” Steve echoed with a proud smile at the fearlessness of his future wife.

“Then, if you’ll excuse me, fellow morons, I have some authorities to evade,” (Y/N) announced. “It’s as simple as one,” (Y/N) raised her arms above her head. “Two,” she winked at them. “Three,” she whispered as she catapulted herself in a backwards sommersault through the portal, the experience like no other as she had already explained to all three of them. The odd pulling of her limbs in all directions as the speed washed over her like a rollercoaster ride beyond the speed of light. Colors whisked furiously across her vision as she enjoyed the ride, feeling as if she were flying through a lava lamp.

After a moment, she looked behind her to see Sam, shouting his head off in terror. She attempted to gain his attention, to somehow let him know that he was going to be fine, but there was a sudden jerk on her leg that caused her whole body to rip through the side of the portal like a stunt double through a fake glass window. The pain was excruciating and after only a second, she completely blacked out.

She couldn’t tell how long she was out, but when she woke up, she realized that she was definitely not in Asgard. In fact, she had no idea where she was.

Oh, this is bad…

Photo

Tue, 09 Jan 2018 13:31:39 -0500

faeriefully:Being a writer is lying in bed at two am, waiting for sleep, only to be met with two new...

Tue, 09 Jan 2018 00:26:41 -0500

faeriefully:

Being a writer is lying in bed at two am, waiting for sleep, only to be met with two new characters, clarity for a plotline, and an entire scene concept for a novel that isn’t your current project.

lindor:getting replies on posts is one of the most fun things on this site for me and i just want u...

Wed, 03 Jan 2018 21:50:13 -0500

lindor:

getting replies on posts is one of the most fun things on this site for me and i just want u all to know u are EXTREMELY welcome to reply to all my posts even if u think its silly or irrelevant or just an emoji i dont care this blog is a talking zone not a silent aesthetic zone