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wearysparrows · 1 month ago

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I (Almost) Shot You Down

Summary: A chance encounter with Sylus snowballs something much larger, and you're pushed even deeper into the depths of his world -- whether you like it or not.

Chapter 1: A pillar of Salt

After being forced on leave from the Hunter's Association, you try to find respite outside of the safety of your apartment. By chance, you see Sylus engaged with someone else. You nearly take his head for it -- but he gets his way, in the end.

CW (18+): Sylus/reader, no use of ' Y/N,' Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Guns, MC is chronically depressed and exhausted, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood and Violence, Drug Use, Gambling, Reader is MC, AFAB reader is implied but no pronouns are used

A/N: This is my long, ongoing work that is still being updated. There are many more chapters up on ao3, and I'm working on getting them to tumblr. They're also being edited and improved from their original postings, so if you've read it before, there may be some changes as I upload!

You had finally begrudgingly accepted a few days off from your work with the Hunter’s Association, at the behest of your primary care physician (citing your declining physical health), your boss (citing your declining work performance), and your work partner (citing your declining mental health). The aforementioned meddlers had teamed up in an effort to finally tear you away from hunting, and would not allow you to return, despite your valiant attempts at protest. Work was your escape – from yourself, from the reality of your life, from your relationships – and everything in between. Hunting never changed, and you only got better at it.

Your blatant disregard for yourself had failed to continue to go unnoticed by those who cared about you, though. Now, here you were, sitting in your empty apartment with only the all encompassing silence to keep you company. Left alone with your thoughts. Again. You hadn’t bothered to kick the lights on. Only the sound of the heater clicking filled the otherwise empty air around you. Your mind went where it always did, then. That day. No bodies were ever recovered. You didn’t even have something to bury. Caleb’s dog tags had found their way into your hands at some point, and you gazed at them listlessly in your palm. You could still feel the heat from the residual fires of the explosion radiating off of the metal. The warmth of his hand in yours. It was all you had left to prove he ever really existed.

You desperately needed to get out of the house. Anything was better than being here, and perhaps you would accidentally run into some wanderers while the ghost of you made its way about Linkon city. Throwing yourself at hordes of wanderers was the only coping mechanism that had shown any signs of taking your mind off of things. Sort of. With this scheme in mind, you quickly dressed yourself in your usual, strapping your gun to your thigh, concealing its comforting weight under your coat. It wasn’t like you were on forced bedrest, so a walk wouldn’t hurt, right? You stashed Caleb’s tags in your nightstand drawer, returning them to their safe place. You imagined that someday, they’d burn a hole in that wood, and you’d come back to nothing at all.

You left your apartment with no particular aim in mind, being sure to lock the door behind you. The biometric lock shifted into place with a soft whirr behind you. You may have been utterly exhausted, but you were never complacent. The weather outside wasn’t ideal for a walk, and the wind buffeted your hair about your face, and bit at your skin, as if you were offending it with your mere presence outside. Your eyes watered, protesting the assaults by the air. You opted to ignore these sensations, and continued to walk in what you thought was the direction of the nearby shopping district. Your appetite had long since left you – months ago now – but you knew you could find a small measure of pleasure in a cup of coffee on a day like today.

After many twists and turns, your weary feet led you to an area you weren’t wholly familiar with. Maybe it was new? This was more upscale than your usual, you realized – your Hunter’s salary was decent enough, but definitely not this decent. Cobblestone that looked suspiciously new made the click of your boot-heels echo loudly off of your surroundings. You scrutinized the buildings before you, searching for somewhere that your presence would not offend, where you could also acquire what you were after. Everything was just a touch too upscale, too unwelcoming. All of the storefronts blurred into one image, one place where you weren’t welcomed. You chased thoughts from that same morning out of your mind that threatened to break through as you were forced into a moment of mental silence, and the still of the air and the lack of bustle kept returning you to reality. The last place you wanted to be.

After a time of aimless searching, you spied a place that looked acceptable. It was smaller than the other establishments, tucked away conservatively into an alley, lit by warm sconces along either side. Unlike the other buildings, it was painted in a warm, sandy beige. You couldn't tell much else about it from the outside, other than that the interior was dimly lit. The imagery of the cup of coffee on the signage was enough to guide your way. You pulled open the heavy glass door, and half expected it to be partially empty on the inside, but you had no such luck. It was bustling, but warm as a result, and you realized how cold you had been before you had stepped in. The change in temperature almost immediately made you feel too hot in your coat.

The patronage was definitely outside of your tax bracket. The patronage was clad in an array of expensive looking furs and fabrics, all speaking to each other in the lowest of dulcet tones. You felt their eyes on you, but disregarded them. It wasn’t as if you weren’t allowed to be here, regardless of how out of place you may have looked. Which, you thought, wasn’t that much. You might not have been born into high snob-society, but you took good care of your looks. Your fingers were still moving slowly in protest to the inclement weather as you fished your wallet from your coat pocket, stepping towards the counter with the intention to order. You hardly glanced at the menu. You didn’t even have a drink in mind. Just something as a distraction. Liquid, hot enough to burn your tongue. A sensation to chase the thoughts away.

This course of action was quickly interrupted, however. In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of a shock of white hair on someone who seemed to tower over the rest of the people in the room, even while sitting. Clad in blacks and velvet reds, he both fit in perfectly and stood out starkly all at once. He was talking to someone else you couldn't see in a hushed tone.

Sylus?

Surely not. Why would he even be here, of all places? Sure, it was nice, but not places-Sylus-frequented nice. Or at least, the places you imagined he frequented. You still didn’t have a full idea of all of the things Sylus did with his free time. Short of that, what was he doing cavorting about in Linkon in public? Your eyes bored holes into the back of his head, trying to catch wind of what could have possibly brought him to a place like this. You side stepped into a corner table that allowed you to get a better look at who he was speaking with.

A woman?

This clearly wasn’t just any woman, either. A cascade of elaborately curled blonde hair fell down her back in elegant waves, and a deep red dress clung to her like a second skin, outlining her perfectly against Sylus’s dark form. A small nose, and full lips. Long, dark lashes. She was saying something to him, but you couldn’t make out the words in the den of the conversations from the other patrons. He laughed in response to her words, and leaned closer to her. She was smiling at him, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. Her other hand touched his shoulder.

Stones stacked neatly in your stomach as you watched them. You felt like a voyeur. They looked exquisite together – it was undeniable. She was even wearing the perfect color of red. It looked as if she had exsanguinated someone and dyed the dress in their blood – a perfect match for Sylus. Everything else – everyone – in the room paled in comparison. Sylus was still smiling at her, full of charm. You thought about what Zayne had said to you before forcing you to take time off.

You look like you’re two steps away from death. Take a few days off.

Well, his observation was more astute than he realized, clearly. You certainly felt that way now, in light of the spectacle that was playing out before you. Maybe only one step away. Half a step. You told yourself this was none of your business, that you should just quietly take your leave before he noticed you had ever been here. There was no reason for him to take notice of you while he was attending to his private matters. You were just passing through his life. Brushing through his fingertips. Never actually touching him in any way that mattered. Physically, mentally, spiritually.

You decided you needed to leave. Urgently. Despite telling yourself staring down the couple wasn’t bothering you because there was nothing between you and Sylus anyway and what the hell was your problem, you had begun to feel nauseated. You clutched your arm about your midsection, and hurriedly peeled yourself out of your seat. Every one of your muscles protested at the movement, reminding you that you should be at home right now. On forced bedrest, probably.

That just wasn’t in the cards. You weren’t sure you had a hand to play at all. You silently cursed the great dealer in the sky.

You made a beeline for the door, but not before you took one final glance at Sylus and his companion. Even if you were to turn into a pillar of salt for looking back, you just needed one more glimpse. To satiate your curiosity. But luck wasn’t on your side (when was it ever?), because you met Sylus’s eye as you looked, as well as those of the beautiful woman. You saw surprise pass over his features, and thought you saw his lips part as if he were going to say something. The woman peered back at you curiously. You cast your eyes away from the bewitching image before you.

You could feel all the water being sucked from each of the cells in your body, one by one. You would shrivel up on the spot, and leave behind only the base impression of yourself in the wake of your shame. Hopefully, your rotten yearning soul would be freed to roam elsewhere, far from here, in this place you didn’t belong.

Ah, take me, O salt pillar!

There were no such mercies in this life, of course. You left the cafe as quickly as your feet would allow. The glass door slammed behind you. You were running now, for reasons you couldn’t (didn’t want to) quantify. It wasn’t as if he was chasing after you, coming to explain that no, she’s just a friend, just someone I work with, don't worry. Faster you went, the need to see the comforting outline of your apartment against the sky becoming more desperate by the moment. Fortunately, the run home was certainly shorter than the walk to the cafe, and the image you so desired to see appeared before you, blessedly.

Only then did you allow yourself a moment to rest. Your lungs screamed in protest at your outburst, and you sucked in great mouthfuls of air, trying to forcibly still your rapidly beating heart. It was always betraying you in one way or another, even now. You bent over, your hands on your knees, and took a moment to collect yourself. You were grateful no one had been around to see this display, from you leaving your apartment, to running away from a damn coffee shop empty-handed. You curled a fist in your hair, willing it out of your face as you righted yourself. A few stray strands came away in your fingers. That had been happening more and more often, as of late.

The walk up the stairs was nothing else if not excruciating, and you thanked even your unluckiest stars that Xaiver didn’t seem to be home from work yet to see the unfortunate events of your life play out as they were. You stumbled into your apartment – being sure to lock the door behind you, as always.

The safety of your home did good work to soothe your nerves, a stark contrast to the horrid occurrence in the cafe. You shrugged into something more comfortable: a camisole and a pair of soft, cotton pajama shorts. This set had yet to let you down in the comfort department. Even as you changed, the events played over and over through your mind, and you burned with the embarrassment of it all. Sylus’s smile at that woman, his laughter. The way his gaze had twisted into something else entirely when he saw you. Your nausea refused to calm. Your mouth kept filling with too much saliva, over and over.

Why did you have to run away, of all things? You had left like a petulant child who was unable to cope with the sight before them, instead retreating to your small corner of safety in the world.

Wry thoughts came to you. This is what I get for taking a day off. You knew you had been wrong to do so. Your prophecy was always fulfilling itself. Take that, Dr. Zayne.

Still, you were yet unwilling to heed the siren’s call of your bed, despite the increasing intensity of its song. You flopped onto the couch instead with a sigh, the air entering and leaving your lungs easier now. You longed to be rid of the image of Sylus entangled with someone else, and decided you needed to busy your hands with something to scrub the thoughts from your mind.

As a result of not taking nearly any days off lately, you were definitely behind on the maintenance of your weapons. It technically wasn’t work. It was only related to work. You bent over from your position on the couch, and peered underneath it. Here was where your smallest gun safe lived. Perhaps not the most ideal place for it – but it wasn’t as if you had company over often, anyway. Save for Xavier, your steady and ever-reliable partner. And more recently, Sylus, who you hadn’t yet found an accurate definition for. His presence was usually accentuated by some excuse to intrude on your space.

You unlocked the safe. It was an old-school version, not biometric like the newer models. Pure, vintage analog goodness. A gift from Grandma when you had entered the Hunter’s Association. It came open with a soft, satisfying click. Only two weapons were usually inside – your Hunter’s issue handgun, old faithful. You returned it to its rightful place, now, as it had dutifully attended the cafe fiasco with you. With it was a piece that had forced itself into your possession – or rather, Sylus had forced it into your possession. You eyed the offending object, picking it up gingerly and placing it on the coffee table in front of you. It was considerably heavier than your standard issue. It had thunked onto the glass of the table, as if it were moderately offended to be there. Did even his gifts take on aspects of his personality? His influence seemed to know no bounds, so nothing would surprise you at this point. He certainly had a penchant for creating objects with personalities, if Mephisto was any measure.

This gun wasn’t the only firearm Sylus had thrust upon you. A gift, he had said. You weren’t wholly unconvinced he wasn’t using your house as his millionth-whatever-armory. You had accrued so many weapons that you had to acquire a secondary safe, the hulking mass of which sat in your bedroom forebodingly. It held all of the other “gifts” inside, tucked safely away in the darkness, waiting to be used for their dark purpose. You hid it underneath a spare sheet. The second safe was another gift from Sylus. It reminded you of him, in a way – it imposed its presence in your house: tall, cold, stark, and white. It didn’t fit here at all. And it was full of things meant to rend flesh from flesh, flesh from bone. Life from this plane into the next. You thought about the first time you met Sylus, and how he had obliterated a man from existence before your eyes with his evol. There hadn’t been so much as an ounce of recognition in his eyes for the life he had taken. The memory made your nausea threaten to return to you.

Your eyes came back into focus on the gun in front of you. You liked guns, and as much as you hated to admit it, this one was no exception. It was a beautiful article – a faithful reproduction of a vintage Colt 1911. A classic, by anyone’s measure. It was a forty-five caliber, with an eight-plus-one round capacity. The recoil of your Hunter’s association issue paled into comparison to this, and it affected your accuracy negatively. You had recently replaced its bullets – standard full metal jackets – with hollow point rounds. Higher accuracy, higher damage. You planned to test this on the next Wanderer who was unlucky enough to be at the other end of your barrel. Or the next man. Those had only recently come into your sights, as a result of your exploits – at the request of Sylus. He had never actually asked you to gun a living person down, though. You weren’t sure you were even capable of doing so. Or if he would ask.

The wood grip was custom engraved with your name, and encrusted with jewels, courtesy of him. Naturally. The body was scrubbed of any serial number. Naturally.

Ugh.

You placed it on your knees, with the intention to take it apart to clean and maintain it. You intended to add a suppressor, which you had purchased with your own money. Not a gift from Sylus. Small victories.

Just as you began to take the weapon apart, you caught a sound. There was a sort of shuffling at your door, as if someone were standing behind it. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, prickling. Your intuition told you that whatever was behind it was something to be feared. You loaded the spare magazine of hollow points into the piece with a soft click. You flicked the safety off. Your hands had already begun to sweat.

You pointed the gun at the door. It was too heavy in your hands.

Whoever was behind the door was making quick work of the lock, despite it necessitating your biometric data to unlatch.

What if it was the same people who had taken the lives of Caleb and Gran? Had they finally had enough of this game of cat and mouse, and come for you?

You held your breath to steady yourself. The extension of Sylus’s violence wavered back and forth in your grip. The door came open at a painfully slow pace, and a large figure in black slipped through. You cocked back the hammer, which had previously given you difficulty. Now adrenaline bolstered even the strength in your fingertips, any previous weakness forgotten. The figure turned, closing the door behind him. Upon seeing you on your makeshift gunner’s perch on the back of the couch, he raised his hands in surrender, showing you the calloused tan of his palms. One of his hands was nearly the size of your head.

“Sylus?”

His eyebrows had initially shot up in surprise at your current posture, but he quickly relaxed his face into that of his usual mask of easy confidence. You hated that about him, his composure. You adored it, too. He couldn’t even bother to look afraid at the end of a gun. The gun he gave you. You exhaled the breath you had been holding through your nose.

“Expecting someone else?”

He sounded pleased, of all things. You suddenly felt very exposed, in nothing but your camisole and shorts. Despite the gun in your hands, it was as if you were at the other end of his. Your head felt hot. Your forearms began to protest at the weight of the weapon. You blinked new wetness into dry eyes.

“Why the fuck are you breaking into my house?”

You didn’t lower the gun. You didn’t want to. It wasn’t as if it was the first time you two had ended up like this. You, trying to kill him. Him, accepting your choice. Probably not the last, either. You were angry with him – not for breaking in, no. Not for his casual nonchalance in the face of death (could he even die?), not for his disregard for your poweress as an opponent. But for his date with someone else. Someone who was decidedly not you. The feeling bubbled up, stronger and stronger until it was burning you from the inside out. Shame accompanied it, hand in hand.

Of course, you had no real justification for this feeling. You and Sylus weren’t dating, as you needed to remind yourself more and more frequently. You weren’t even sure you could call your relationship friendly – it was somewhere in the bizarre stage of you wanting him, and him accepting your every move with grace. He took you for all you were in stride, met you for all your whims, and you trailed after his every word. You had something he wanted – what it was, you were never quite sure. It changed with his tides. You couldn’t pry it from him. Questions were only answered with more questions, so you had given up on asking them. Sylus’s response to your question cut through your thoughts. His voice was soft, imporing.

“You didn’t answer my texts or calls. I was knocking for a while, too, but there was no answer. With the way you left, I came to make sure.”

Make sure of what?

You hadn’t heard any knocking. You also hadn’t checked your phone.

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, and they came in a slow, steady stream into your consciousness. You thought about the first time you had shot him. How his blood erupted from his chest in hot streams. It stained your hands as you tried desperately to stop his bleeding, pressing against the pulse of the open wound. When you thought you had taken his life. When he had pressed the trigger for you. When he didn’t die. The heat of him was still there, under your palms. It wouldn’t wash off. He was under your skin.

“I’m glad you like the gift, by the way.”

He took a step towards you as he spoke. You adjusted your grip. He was still in your sights. Your breath came quick, your mouth dry. You licked your lips, cracked from worrying your teeth on them so often lately. You thought about the woman and Sylus. Together. The red dress. Sylus’s blood. His laugh, for someone else. Not you.

“You’re welcome to take my life again,” he murmured soothingly, “But it might disturb the neighbors. Particularly the one downstairs. Of course, I’m willing to help you deal with the aftermath. Either way.”

He still had his hands raised in submission. The image of it was practically ridiculous. This wasn’t a posture that Sylus took up under any other circumstance. You knew it was all a show for your benefit, and that you were no match for him, despite your own prowess. Something about his unrelenting acceptance of his own death at your hands (again) dragged you out of your stupor by your achilles heel. You lowered the gun. Sylus took the opportunity to stride forward, and quickly slipped it from your hands with his own. You let him. His touch lingered just a moment too long, fingers pressed to yours. He was warm. Too warm for someone who had just been out in the cold. You resisted the urge to take his hand. His evol materialized, and quickly turned the safety on, ejecting the magazine. It returned the gun to the safe, shutting it away as if it had never happened. The red cloud disappeared as quickly as it came, as if it never were at all. The process took no more than a few seconds of silence between the two of you.

“You were going to modify it?” He asked, nonchalant. As if you hadn’t just been almost making an attempt on his life. He glanced at the suppressor, now cold and lonely on the coffee table.

“Yeah. I was going to...add a suppressor.”

You could hear the flat affect in your voice. It reflected how drained you were beginning to feel by all of this, on top of everything else. Your shoulders sagged under the weight of it.

What the fuck was this conversation, actually?

Sylus nodded, still managing to look pleased with the situation. You felt your life force actively draining from you as the seconds ticked by, as if you were the one who had almost been shot. His gaze shackled you in place, still. The sterling of his hair and the garnet of his eyes were just as enticing as ever. Radically out of place in your modest apartment.

“Can I help you down?”

His soft inquiry brought to your attention that you were still perched with one foot up on the back of the couch, poised to kill him. Your hands were now very much without the gun. Nothing connected you to the world below you concretely, anymore. Except him. He was standing before you with an offered hand. At some point during your conversation, he had rolled up his sleeves, revealing the rippling capability of the muscle of his forearms. It enticed you without voice. You took his outstretched hand, wordlessly. To your surprise, he pulled you over the back of the couch and towards him, catching you like you were nothing, his free hand supporting your waist. You landed softly on your feet in front of him, still in his arms, hand in his own. For a moment, the posture reminded you of how you had danced with him at the auction. You looked up at him, he down at you. His expression was inscrutable, save for a little smile. You were close enough to see the soft sweep of his eyelashes. The circles under his eyes. Proud nose and soft lips. You pulled away, hugging your arms to yourself. It was much colder for his lack of touch. His hands hovered at the place where he had held for a moment, and then fell back to his sides.

“What has you so wound up? I tried to call out to you this morning, but you bolted before I could greet you.”

Sylus had his head cocked at you now, as if the answer you had for him was something very simple. He adjusted one of his sleeve garters. You averted your gaze, studying a now very interesting speck of dust on your floor. You wanted to put all of this behind you, to forget it had ever happened. You would have never brought it up had he never shown his face. But he had to be here, asking questions. Making you lie to him even more than you already did. You had never been a liar until you spent time with him. You tried to keep your tone level as you spoke.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your date.”

Even saying it made your insides crawl. You spat the last word out with more venom that you had intended. Your lower intestine was trying to creep up to your diaphragm, and seemed to be succeeding. Sylus raised an eyebrow in your direction.

“Date?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. The movement made his biceps all the more prominent. He sounded puzzled, and was scrutinizing you, now. You couldn’t comprehend what was so hard to understand about all of this. You sighed, despite your best attempts to keep your emotions from bleeding through your cracks.

“Yes, date. What would you have me do? Come up and introduce myself while you’re clearly in the middle of something?”

You were aware you were completely out of line here. None of this was any of your concern in the first place. You had stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. Sylus had, quite literally, no obligation to you whatsoever. Certainly not to explain himself, or who he chose to spend his time with. You wanted to shrink and disappear into the floorboards. Perhaps you could seep through the cracks like smoke, and escape this confrontation all together. But you didn’t have that kind of power – unless Sylus was with you, holding you in his arms.

He had been quiet for a time. He started again.

“The woman I was with today is one of my contacts in Linkon. She helps me smuggle things in and out when I can’t attend to them personally. I’ve been working on...procuring something. For you.” He cleared his throat a little, as if he had just told you an embarrassing secret.

You gawked at him. He was still smiling at you. His eyes met yours. Seeing everything you didn’t want him to see. He didn’t even need to use the protocore in his right eye. It was all bared to him, regardless.

“And yes,” he continued,

“I would have been very pleased to introduce you. You only let me show you off every so often – I wanted to seize the opportunity by the horns.”

There were too many things you didn’t understand. How he could move about Linkon so nonchalantly. How he could be having conversations about smuggling in an upscale Linkon cafe. How the man before you, who gained all of his income from untold numbers of criminal activities, was the same who willingly spent his free time with you playing Kitty Cards and screwing around in the arcade. It was too much. You turned from him, and instead returned to the safety of the couch. You sat on it, grounding yourself with the feeling of your own belongings. You heard him follow after you. His shoes were still on, but you didn’t have the heart to scold him for his disregard for your floor's cleanliness. He sat next to you. The couch sunk under his greater weight, and caused you to slip a little closer to him on the furniture.

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Sylus.”

It was all you could say. Better to keep the respectable distance between you just as it was. Any further and you wouldn't be able to keep up this facade around him anymore. He kept pulling at your threads, trying to reveal your insides.

“No one owes anyone anything. But I wanted to tell you. Besides,” you felt his evol touch your hand, ever so gently. It was as if he was holding it without actually holding it. The little red extension of himself curled around your fingers playfully. You remembered how it had choked and shackled you in the past. Now it sat in your lap like a beloved pet, curling about your knees and fingertips. It’s usual crackling intensity was gone, now only a light, pleasant buzz against your skin. You focused on the sensation. It was warm, like him.

"Here I was, excited to think that you were going to shoot me because you thought you saw me out with someone else. I’m a little disappointed that wasn’t the reason.”

He was chuckling, like what just occurred had amused him. Something to spice up the usual banal repetition of his everyday life. You felt yourself deflating. There was no more hot air left inside – just the residual exhaustion, both emotionally and physically. You found yourself wishing, again, that you hadn’t taken a day off. If you hadn’t, Sylus wouldn’t have broken into your apartment to explain he wasn’t out with someone else. To you. The person he was also decidedly Not With. You fiddled with his evol in your lap. You had been around him often enough to know this teasing was his way of trying to cheer you up – to take your mind somewhere else besides exhausted and angry and I want to leave this plane of existence.

“I’ll be sure to follow through with it next time.”

There was no real bite to your words – to your ears, you only sounded exactly as you felt. Like you were threatening the man you had feelings for who did not return them, yet still refused to leave you alone. A plaything for his own amusements. Sylus merely nodded. His evol had since made its way to the drawstrings of your shorts, and it was tying them in various intricate knots, there. You wondered at it. It seemed to have a mind of its own – but you were certain that this, too, was another idle whim of his.

“I’m looking forward to it, then.”

His statement was quiet, nearly a sigh of pleasure. The back of your neck and ears burned in tandem. You examined the knots that were now likely forever tied into your poor drawstring.

What the fuck kind of knots even were these?

You pointedly ignored the minor arousal that threatened to arise at this.

“There’s something wrong with your brain. Seriously.”

“It takes a thief to catch a thief, my dove.” You could hear the smile in his words as he spoke.

“You have a few days off, right?” He was rolling the previously abandoned suppressor around in his fingers, examining it. You swore he had somehow gotten closer to you on the small couch – with the way his legs were spread, his knee was just barely touching yours.

“Yeah. Wait, how did you know?”

He ignored your question. As he almost always did, as it suited him. Instead, he responded with another question of his own.

“Why don’t you come back with me to the N109 zone? You can rest there, instead of here. Or, we can go out. Whatever you’d like.”

You were about to deny him, but his voice took on a more serious tone as he continued to speak.

“This place is going to claim your life if you don’t leave it every once in a while.”

You look two steps away from death. Take a few days off.

Why was everyone in your life so thoroughly convinced of your impending collapse? Even your criminal mastermind was in on it. You scrunched Sylus’s evol up in your hands. It wiggled, protesting your treatment in your fingers, but not dissipating. You wondered if he could feel your touch through it. If he could feel it when he killed. Maybe you did need to leave – maybe this place was killing you. If it wasn’t Wanderers, it would be your own disregard for yourself. Maybe the air was forever tainted by the death of your family, and the miasma would never quite leave your lungs. Maybe running away was the best thing to do. Sylus was giving you an out – at least for a little while. Maybe there were strings attached. There had to be, without a shadow of a doubt. He was silent while you mulled it over. You expected him to comment on your lack of response, but he said nothing.

Irritatingly patient.

You sighed. You turned to Sylus.

“Fine. But I only have a few days. Give me a few minutes to pack my things.”

Sylus had the good grace to look surprised at how easily you had agreed to his suggestion, but it quickly turned into a look of barely concealed smug satisfaction. His evol vanished from your grip, and you found yourself missing its comforting touch.

“You technically don’t need to pack anything. I have everything you could possibly need at the base. Clothes, food, weapons, shampoo, conditioner…the kinds you like.” He trailed off. You couldn’t tell how serious he was being, what with the expression he was serving you. You shot him a look.

He raised his hands, showing you his palms, submitting once again.

“Like I said. Give me a minute to pack my things.”

Sylus leaned back on the couch, relenting. He dropped his hands.

True to your word, gathering your things for a trip to the N109 zone took little time at all. It wasn’t that you were particularly Spartan with your assets – but rather that Sylus really did keep all of the things you needed around, and much more. Knowing you could trust him on this front made warmth creep to your face, and the cold began to seep from your bones. After changing, you returned to the living room with your bag, where Sylus was patiently awaiting your return. He was peering out your window. The sun hit him just right, and it illuminated his eyes with its beams. The red only intensified in the light, the color of blood only just exposed to air. You could have stared at the image of him forever. He always claimed to be unlucky, but it seemed to you as if every aspect of the world bowed to him. For someone who was so weak to its rays, he was lit brilliantly by the sun. He turned to you, squinting. Your eyes fell to your gun, which was in his hands. You recalled that he had definitely returned it to the safe, previously. He waved it at you, careful not to point the barrel in your direction.

“Don’t forget this.”

He stood as he spoke, and stepped toward you. His form loomed over you, and you felt him slip the gun into your thigh holster (where you had planned to put your standard issue) underneath your coat.

Bastard.

His hand lingered on your hip before he put it in his coat pocket. He smelled good. He was wearing something today that you couldn’t quite place. His natural scent was there, too.

Rosemary? Figs? Cloves?

“Shall we?”

His voice cut through your mental musings on men’s fragrance notes. You nodded, following after him as he led you out of your apartment. You were sure to lock the door behind you. Again. His bike was waiting faithfully for you in the parking lot. Sylus slipped your helmet on for you (why did he even have a second helmet on him today in the first place?), making sure your hair was tucked neatly away behind your neck. After repeating the action on himself, he kicked the stand out from under his bike, and you got on behind him. You always had no choice but to wrap your arms around him when you rode. You wondered how it made him feel – or if he felt anything about the contact at all. His back was broad, solid, and warm underneath your touch. You swore you could feel his muscles ripple underneath you, even with the barrier of his clothing between you. You squeezed him a little tighter as he began to drive. Even through your jacket, the air nipped at you for your speed. As he pressed the bike harder, you felt something tickle around your waist. You peeked down as best you could through the visor of your helmet. Sylus’s evol was keeping you neatly attached to him, as if your arms weren’t enough. The inside of your helmet suddenly felt hotter. You tried not to think about why he did the things he did. Sylus offered no acknowledgement or explanation for any of this. As always.

The bike sped on to the N109 zone, eager to return to where it belonged.

#love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x mc #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace

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griffin-girl-r · 5 months ago

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You're not mine (Part 3)

Started: 16.11.2023

Finished: 08.09.2024

Edited: 08.09.2024

Age: 15

Word count: 3,925

Pairings: WinterWidow

Warnings: Swearing

Request: Yes (Wattpad)

Note: Special thanks to @mutlifandomloverblog for beta reading and proofreading this for me 🧡

Part 2

—

Night blanketed the Avengers Compound in an unusual hush, the kind that settled deep in the bones.

To outsiders, it might seem like a tranquil evening, a rare gem in the chaotic lives of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. But to a seasoned sailor, it felt like the eerie calm before a tempest, the kind that hinted at an impending storm.

Natasha and Bucky’s relationship had frayed beyond recognition, tension crackling in the air between them.

So it was no shock when they arrived at the compound one night, both seeking solitude in separate corners, each weighed down by their own burdens.

As they moved through the familiar halls, they hoped that the presence of friends would offer a welcome distraction from their racing thoughts, if only for a little while.

—

Natasha lay awake in bed that night, just like Bucky in the next room, listening to the soft, rhythmic breaths of little Tanya as she slept peacefully.

The guilt weighed heavily on Natasha, the voices in her head whispering harsh truths, blaming her for what had happened to Y/N.

And deep down, she knew they were right.

Bucky was right. Tanya was right. Their friends were right.

The only one responsible for her daughter’s disappearance was her.

—

It was deep into the night when Natasha started to surrend to the pull of sleep, her mind tetheering between the reality and the dreams.

It was just then when alarms started ringing, lights flashing heratically to signal that something was happening.

“Alert! Alert!” FRIDAY's voice echoed through the compound "Intruders detected in the west wing. Security systems are compromised." The AI said, providing a detailed update on the situation

Natasha jumped out of bed, shaking her head to wake herself fully, her first reflex was to reach out for Tanya and lift her in her arms.

“Mama...” The sleepy girl whimpered scared, unable to comprehend what was happening around her just yet

“It’s okay, baby.” Natasha breathed out, kissing the top of Tanya’s head

“Tanya!” Bucky shouted over the alarms, bursting inside the room

Natasha watched as Bucky crossed the room in a second, stopping in front of her and Tanya to carress their daughter’s hair.

“Are you okay, baby doll?” Bucky kissed Tanya’s little forehead, ignoring Natasha’s presence

“We need to get her to the safe room, James.” Natasha said, earning a nod from Bucky

From a quick move, Bucky took Tanya into his arms and took off sprinting towards the safe room, Natasha hot on his heels to ensure they aren’t attacked while getting Tanya to safety.

Natasha and Bucky moved fast, faster than they have done in their entire lives.

The urgency of the moment propelled them forward, every step taken with precision and purpose. As they navigated the labyrinthine corridors, Natasha's senses were on high alert, her eyes scanning for any sign of danger. She could hear Tanya's soft whimpers, the only sound she could focus on.

Bucky's grip on Tanya was firm yet gentle, his metallic arm gleaming in the dim light.

He moved with a fluidity that spoke of years of training, his focus entirely on protecting his daughter.

They rounded a corner and came to a heavy steel door embedded in the wall. Bucky placed his hand on the biometric scanner, and after a tense moment, the door slid open with a soft hiss.

They quickly stepped inside, and the door closed behind them, sealing them in the reinforced safe room.

The room was sparsely furnished, designed for functionality over comfort. A small cot was tucked into one corner, and a table with emergency supplies occupied another.

Bucky gently set Tanya down on the cot, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

"You're safe now, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice soft but steady. Tanya looked up at him with wide eyes, her fear slowly giving way to trust.

Natasha quickly scanned the room, checking the surveillance monitors mounted on the wall. She watched the feeds, her sharp eyes noting any movement outside their sanctuary.

For the moment, everything appeared calm, but she knew better than to let her guard down.

Natasha turned back to Tanya, her expression softening. She knelt beside the cot, reaching out to hold her daughter's hand. "How are you feeling, honey?"

Tanya's eyes flickered between her parents, her small voice trembling. "I was scared, Mama."

Natasha's heart ached at the vulnerability in her daughter's words. "I know, sweetheart. But we're here now, and we won't let anything happen to you."

"Natasha," Bucky called "We have to go. The others are waiting for us."

Natasha silently nodded before turning back to face Tanya.

"Wait for us here, baby." She planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead "Mama and Papa will soon be back."

And with that, Natasha turned around and started running towards the door, pulling Bucky along by his metal arm.

—

When Natasha and Bucky exited the safe room, they saw Steve, who was already in is suit, running towards them.

"Tony, Nat, Bucky, with me." Steve yelled, as Tony showed up in his armor. "We'll head to the west wing and deal with the intruders directly. Thor, stay with Tanya and make sure she’s safe. Bruce, get ready to go green if needed. Wanda and Vision, secure the perimeter and look for any additional threats. Clint, get to a vantage point and provide cover."

"FRIDAY, give us a layout of the intruders' positions," Tony commanded.

"Displaying now," FRIDAY responded, projecting a holographic map showing red dots representing the intruders moving through the compound.

"Not as many as we expected." Wanda tilted her head to the side, surprised. "Just... One."

Natasha adjusted her Widow Bites around her wrists glancing at Bucky. "Just like old times, huh?" she said with a smirk, trying to ease the permanent tension in between them.

"Let's hope it's easier than the old times." Bucky sighed, his metal arm glinting under the emergency lights.

The team quickly split up, each heading to their assigned tasks with the precision and efficiency born of countless battles together.

As they moved through the hallways, the sounds of shattering glass and blaring alarms filled the air, creating a chaotic symphony.

Yet, they were too familiar with it.

Captain America lead the group through the dimly lit corridors of the west wing, his shield at the ready.

Meanwhile, Thor stood guard over Tanya, his hammer, Mjolnir, crackling with lightning.

Tanya clung to his side, her eyes wide with fear but trusting in the Asgardian's protection.

"Do not worry, little one," Thor assured her with a smile. "No harm shall come to you while I am here. Uncle Thor will protect you, human baby."

—

The living room of the Avengers compound was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place where the heroes could unwind. But as the door burst open, the atmosphere shifted from calm to chaos in an instant.

The intruder, a lithe figure cloaked in crackling energy, face masked, stood defiantly in the center, electric arcs dancing around their limbs, as they looked much shorter than they expected at first.

The team took a quick glance towards the unknown intruder, but they knew not to waste too much time.

“Get them!” Steve shouted, his voice cutting through the tension.

He led the charge, shield raised high, flanked by Natasha, Bucky, Clint, and Tony. They had faced countless foes, but something about this one felt different.

The moment they advanced, the intruder unleashed a torrent of electrical bolts. They zipped through the air, illuminating the room with flashes of blue and white.

The team scattered, dodging the deadly projectiles as they ricocheted off the walls, leaving scorch marks in their wake.

“Stay on your toes!” Natasha shouted, her instincts kicking in.

Natasha lunged forward, Widow bites primed and ready, aiming straight for the intruder’s heart.

Suddenly, with a flick of their wrist, the intruder twisted the air around them, redirecting the projectiles back at Natasha.

A jolt of electricity struck her, sending her sprawling across the floor.

Natasha knew her how powerful her Widow Bites are, but the pain she felt had doubled in intensity.

She could only guess that the intruder overcharged her Bites with electricity.

“Nat!” Bucky yelled, moving to cover her.

"I'm good." The red head groaned.

Bucky turned around and charged in, his metal arm poised to deliver a crushing blow.

But the intruder was quick. Quicker than expected.

With a flicker of energy, she sent a surge through his arm, rendering it useless.

Bucky grunted in frustration, trying to shake the numbness away. Yet, he could not.

Clint notched an arrow, his focus razor-sharp. “I’ve got this!” he declared, releasing the arrow.

But the intruder merely raised their hand, and with a casual flick, the arrow transformed mid-flight, exploding into a shower of sparks that lit up the room.

Clint ducked, narrowly avoiding the debris.

“Enough of this!” Steve barked, frustration boiling over.

He threw his shield with precision, aiming to knock the intruder off balance.

The intruder, anticipating his move, charged the vibranium with raw electricity. As it came hurtling back at him, Steve barely had time to brace himself before the shield collided with his chest, sending him stumbling back.

“Tony, we need air support!” Steve shouted, trying to catch his breath.

“On it, Cap!” Tony replied, rocketing into the air.

His suit hummed with energy, weapons primed for action. But as he soared toward the intruder, they focused their gaze on him, their eyes glinting with mischief.

In an instant, they reached out with their mind, hijacking FRIDAY’s systems.

“Tony, watch out!” Natasha warned, but it was too late.

The suit turned against its owner, firing repulsors wildly in every direction. The room erupted in chaos as explosions rocked the space, sending Tony crashing to the ground amidst a plume of smoke and debris.

As the dust began to settle, the Avengers gathered themselves, panting and bruised. They exchanged glances, realizing the magnitude of their predicament. They were outmatched, and the intruder was only getting started.

Just when it seemed all hope was lost, a booming voice echoed through the compound.

“Enough!” Thor descended from above, Mjolnir crackling with energy.

He unleashed a powerful torrent of lightning toward the intruder, channeling his might in a single, devastating strike.

But in a shocking twist, the intruder caught the lightning mid-air, their eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity.

With a swift motion, they redirected the energy back at Thor, blasting him through the wall with a thunderous crash.

“Thor!” Steve shouted, rushing to his fallen comrade.

The room was filled with the smell of burnt wood and singed air, remnants of the battle swirling in the aftermath.

As the Avengers regrouped, they observed the intruder intently.

The intruder had been wounded in the fray, a small gash visible on their left side of their body, but even now, they summoned a spark of electricity, channeling it into the injury.

With a quick flicker, the wound began to heal, the skin knitting together as the enemy harnessed the very energy that had attacked them moments before.

“Is everyone okay?” Steve asked, looking around at his team, who were panting and bruised but mostly intact.

“I think so,” Natasha said, slowly getting back to her feet. “But they're strong. We underestimated them.”

“Where did it even come from?” Clint asked, still shaken by the chaos.

Before they could discuss further, the unknown intruder, now mostly healed, turned their back to them.

Without a word, the enemy fled the scene, their figure disappearing into the shadows.

The Avengers stood in stunned silence, the remnants of their defeat hanging in the air.

“What just happened?” Clint gasped, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I don’t know,” Steve replied, his brow furrowed. “But we need to regroup and figure out what we’re dealing with.”

As they caught their breath, the reality sank in.

This was no ordinary adversary.

The intruder hadn’t spoken a single word, yet they had proven their power in an instant.

The quiet before the storm lingered, an ominous reminder that they had only begun to scratch the surface of the challenge ahead.

The Avengers knew one thing for sure: they had to be ready for whatever came next.

—

"That was my new suit!" Tony yelled, pointing at his chest.

"And that was my arm!" Bucky shot back. "I lost it in that battle!"

The meeting room was filled with protests, as the Avengers gathered early in the morning to talk about the previous night's events.

"Can you quit with that joke already?" Natasha groaned tiredly "You sound like little children."

"Agent Hill," Fury interjected, stopping the useless complaining. "Please give our agents a quick rundown on the enemy's powers."

"Of course, Sir," Hill said, turning to the group. "Listen up, guys. From the footage we analyzed last night, we identified five key powers, all linked by one element." She paused, scanning the room. "Electricity."

"No shit." Clint chuckled ironically. "We haven't notived that last night."

"Electrokinesis," Maria firmly started, ignoring Clint, "is the ability to generate and control electricity. This includes shooting bolts, creating fields, or powering devices with their body. You've all seen them do this."

Maria recieved a collective nod.

"Electromagnetism," Maria continued, "controlling magnetic fields, manipulating objects, or flying using electromagnetic propulsion. This is why they’ve evaded our attacks so effortlessly. Steve and Natasha know this firsthand."

Steve put his head in his hands, still feeling embarressed after last night's battle.

"Electric Absorption: the ability to absorb and store electricity, enhancing their powers or releasing bursts of energy." Maria boomed, trying to mock Thor.

"For Mjolnir sake." Thor sighed.

"Technopathy: the power to control or communicate with electronic devices, manipulating technology with their minds or integrating with networks." Maria looked at Tony, earning an eye roll from him.

"It was my new suit." Tony repeated

"Electric Healing," Maria chukled, "the ability to heal or rejuvenate oneself or others using electrical energy, speeding up natural processes."

"That shit was impressive." Clint pointed with his finger towards Maria.

"We will face another attack soon," Fury asserted. "We need a plan to stop them and capture them alive. This won’t end until they get what they want." He fixed a stern gaze on Natasha. "Don’t let me down."

With that, Fury stood and left.

"You’re all dismissed for now," Maria announced. "Stay prepared."

—

The room was abuzz with tension and murmurs after Maria's detailed briefing on the enemy's powers. Each agent's mind was racing, trying to piece together strategies to counter such formidable abilities.

Tony, still slightly agitated about his ruined suit, took a deep breath and turned to the others. "Alright, team, let's get to work. We need to come up with a solid plan. Any ideas?"

"We need to exploit their weaknesses. Every power has a limitation. If they're relying heavily on electricity, we could consider ways to short-circuit their abilities." Steve stepped forward, his face set with determination.

Natasha nodded, mindlessly playing with a pen. "EMP devices. If we can deploy them effectively, we might be able to neutralize their powers temporarily. But we need a backup plan in case that fails."

Bruce, who hadn't been at the compound last night when the attack happened, had been quietly observing everyone, silently trying to absorbe all information before he spoke up.

"Electromagnetism and electric absorption make direct confrontations risky. But if we can overload their absorption capacity, it might destabilize them." The doctor said "We need to carefully calculate the amount of electricity needed to do that."

"And what about their technopathy?" Clint added "They could turn our own tech against us. We'll need manual overrides and non-digital communication methods to stay one step ahead."

"Right." Tony, surprisingly, agreed. "No relying on our usual tech. We'll go analog wherever possible. But we still need to pinpoint their location and predict their next move."

"We analized if any key points with high electricity had been targeted recently before the attack on us and, based on their previous patterns, they do target high-energy facilities." Maria, still present, interjected, "Power plants, research labs, places with significant electrical infrastructure. We should prioritize securing these locations that are nearby."

Steve nodded. "Good point. We'll need to divide our forces to cover as many potential targets as possible. We should also set traps and surveillance in these areas to give us an early warning."

Bucky, who had been silently fuming about the earlier exchange, finally spoke up. "And when we do face them, we need to coordinate our attacks. Distraction and misdirection could give us the upper hand."

Tony took a deep breath. "Alright, team, here's the plan: EMP devices, strategic deployment at high-risk locations, manual overrides for our tech, and coordinated attacks. We'll split into smaller units to cover more ground. Let's get to work and be ready for anything."

"Alright, sunshine." Bucky mockingly smiled at Tony

Tony rolled his eyes but made no move to protest. Instead, he stood up, and left the room.

As the team dispersed to prepare, Maria watched them go with a steely resolve. She knew the upcoming battle would test their limits, but she also knew they were the best hope for stopping this new threat.

And yet, they still had to learn what was the reason behind these new attacks.

With a final nod to herself, she turned to finalize the details and ensure everything was in place for the imminent confrontation.

—

The room began to empty as people filed out, chatting amongst themselves, leaving Natasha standing alone in the dim light.

She saw that Bucky stood up from his seat aswell, preparing to leave, when she caught him by him right arm, her grip firm but gentle, pulling him back to her.

“James, please.” Her voice was soft, almost fragile. “Can we talk?”

Bucky stood there, his jaw clenched, anger flickering in his eyes. He hesitated, the tension between them thick enough to cut.

“What is there to talk about, Natasha?" He sighed. "You've already made your choices, and look where it got us.”

Natasha lowered her gaze, taking a deep breath as the weight of her mistakes settled on her shoulders. “I know I made mistakes. I’m sorry. I should have been a better mother for Y/N.”

Bucky's glare was fierce as his daughter's name got mentioned. He was ready to start an arguement, but as he searched her face, he saw the sincerity in her eyes, leaving him unsure of what to think.

“You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be fine, Nat." He raised his voice, tears gathering in his eyes. "This isn’t something that just goes away. Not when my daughter is out there, who knows in what condition, probably fighting for her life as we talk.”

Natasha swallowed hard when she heard his words, guilt creeping again in her mind.

Stepping closer, her voice trembled with raw emotion. “I know, James. I don’t expect it to. But I need you to understand… I care about our family. I care about Y/N. More than I’ve ever let on.” She paused for a second. "I was just too scared to allow myself to love her fully after Tanya was born, and now, I regret it deeply."

Bucky’s shoulders sagged, the anger seeping away as he absorbed her words.

After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled her into a hug, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle that had been lost for too long.

They stood in silence, the world around them fading as thoughts of their daughters, the mysterious intruder, and the dangers lurking ahead filled their minds.

“I can't forgive you. Not yet. We need to bring Y/N back home first. But I promise we’ll figure this out,” Bucky whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “Together.”

Natasha nodded, holding him tighter, finding solace in their shared resolve.

The room felt heavy with unspoken fears and hopes, but in that embrace, they found a flicker of strength to face whatever lay ahead.

—

Fury and Maria were right when they told the team that an attack will soon follow, because not even 3 nights later, the Avengers' headquarters erupted in chaos, debris flying as their relentless foe, returned with a vengeance.

This time, Natasha and Bucky haven't brought Tanya with them. Instead, they left her with Wanda at their house.

They knew a new attack was imminent and they didn't wanted to drag their young daughter in this again.

—

The enemy stood tall, eyes glinting with malice. "You cannot stop me, Avengers! Your time ends now!"

The intruder's voice was powerful, yet it sounded more robotic than human.

The team, weary and battered, exchanged glances filled with concern.

"Oh, so we can talk." Tony spat, trying to ease the tension.

Tony, in his brand new Iron Man suit, turned to Natasha. "We need a plan, Nat. This thing is too powerful."

They knew they couldn't engage in a battle that could drag on forever and end in their defeat.

Again.

They were expecting this new attack, so they couldn't afford to lose time. They needed to act.

And act fast.

Natasha, ever the strategist, responded, "I have an idea, but it's risky. We need to overload their power source. Push it beyond its limits, and it might shut down."

Thor, gripping his hammer, nodded fiercely. "Aye, let's try it. My lightning may be of use in this."

Steve stepped forward, shield at the ready. "We'll channel all our energy into our attacks. Together, we can do this!"

"You have no source of electrical power, Stevie." Bucky laughed.

"Maybe not." Steve smirked. "But my shield can conduct the energy."

Raising their weapons and abilities, the Avengers rallied.

Thor summoned crackling lightning, Thor powered up his repulsors, Steve took position, shield at the ready, and Natasha poised for a precise strike, alongisde the others.

"You think you can challenge me?" The intruder taunted them. "I am beyond your comprehension!"

With a unified battle cry, the team unleashed a concentrated barrage of energy.

The room exploded with blinding light as their powers converged on their enemy.

The intruder struggled, their form wavering under the onslaught. "No! This cannot be!" They shouted in pain.

The energy intensified, breaking through the defenses. The enemy staggered, faltering under the relentless assault.

"Keep pushing!" Natasha urged, gritting her teeth. "We've almost got it! It's working."

With a deafening blast, the enemy convulsed and collapsed, the room trembling with the aftermath.

Silence followed, broken only by the team's heavy breaths, as their victory settled in.

—

Bucky felt a ringing in his ears as pain shot through his entire body.

He let out a loud groan, pushing himself into a sitting position. Looking around, he saw the rest of the team scattered across the room.

"Damn it!" Natasha groaned, following Bucky's lead as she pushed herself up.

"Is everyone alright?!" Steve shouted worried.

As everyone regained their senses, Bucky noticed the intruder lying unconscious in the center of the room and stood up.

With calculated steps, he approached their enemy, kneeling beside them with deliberate movements.

"We'll see who is the bastard who dares to challenge us," Bucky mumbled angrily under his breath as he reached to remove the intruder's mask.

A collective gasp echoed through the room as the mask came off, followed by a stunned silence.

Bucky's eyes widened and a shocked whisper resonated throughout the room.

This couldn't be real.

It just, couldn't be.

"Y/N..."

—

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#natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff #mama nat #natasha's child #natasha x teen reader #natasha's kid #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #buckynat #winterwidow

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noobtiedoo · 27 days ago

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Villain: Stop sneaking into my lair! Use the door like a normal person!

Hero: But it has a biometric lock...

Villain: I know, that's why I stole your files and put them in the system.

Hero: Aww, you basically gave me the key!

Villain: By stealing your info. Yes. You really should update your own security system.

#writers #writing #writers on tumblr #writing prompts #hero x villain #prompts

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vomitdodger · 6 months ago

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LOL. They say it’s to prevent fake press credentials and the like.

Sure Jan.

Like I needed one more reason to hate the NFL.

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reality-detective · 11 months ago

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Senator Jeff Merkley with an updated report on the surveillance state: The TSA continues to make it unclear that you ARE able to opt out of using facial recognition technology. (2 min, 48 sec) More about your freedom to opt out from the TSA's own website: 👇

I hope this helps some of you who are Patriots and want to fight the system 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #patriots #fellow travelers #you decide #fight for freedom #freedom fighters

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lexlawuk · 6 months ago

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Transfer Indefinite Leave to Remain (ILR) to a Biometric Residence Permit (BRP)

If you hold Indefinite Leave to Remain (ILR) in the UK, transferring your status to a Biometric Residence Permit (BRP) can provide a more secure and convenient way to prove your right to reside, work, or study in the UK. This guide will walk you through the key aspects of the No Time Limit (NTL) application, detailing when and why you should apply, eligibility criteria, the benefits of making the…

#Best Immigration Solicitors London #Biometrics #BRP #DJF Solicitors #Home Office #Home Office Updates #Immigration Policy #Indefinite Leave to Remain #Lexvisa #london #London Immigration Solicitors #UK Immigration #UK Immigration Advice

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alexawynters · 1 year ago

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Scarlet Whispers pt 5

Gif not mine

A/N: I.... as always, don't know how I feel about this chapter. Anything involving the 'horror' theme is... not my forte.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-4 here

You weren’t quite sure what woke you up later that evening, only that you found yourself staring at the opposite wall, and unable to go back to sleep. It didn’t happen often since coming to live with Wanda, but in the past, a nice warm cup of tea would help put you back to sleep, so you decided that would be your best bet.

As you quietly got out of bed, being careful not to disturb the witch, a light caught the corner of your eye: Wanda's phone. It was connected to the charger and blinking with a new notification. You couldn't help but feel curious. Shortly after arriving here, Wanda had informed you that due to her magic, there was almost no network connectivity available, whether cellular or wifi. None of your gaming devices or cellphone had any network connectivity, so you had to rely on Wanda to update anything for you whenever she left your home. Because of this, you tried not to bother her too much. After all, you didn't really need the most up-to-date patches since you couldn't play online with anyone anyway.

You were confused about why her cellphone had a new notification if none of your devices had network connectivity. You assumed she would have checked her notifications since the last time she went out, which was at least a week ago. Personally, you couldn't stand having any of those little banner notifications and always cleared them as soon as they appeared, even if it was just by swiping them away from the notifications bar without actually reading them. So, the sudden appearance of a new notification on her phone puzzled you. There shouldn’t be any service for it to have come in recently. At least, not if you trusted what Wanda had been telling you...

A heavy, gnawing sensation settled in the pit of your stomach, creating a sense of unease. Undoubtedly, it was a breach of trust. Surely Wanda, of all people, didn't deserve for you to go snooping through her phone. She had always been kind, helpful, and loving towards you. Yet, despite her unwavering support, at the first sign of something that didn't quite add up, you found yourself doubting her. Why didn't you simply ask her instead?

But.. was it the first time? You were having flashbacks to all those moments of deja vu.

Haltingly, you took slow, hesitating steps towards Wanda’s nightstand where her phone lay. You didn’t understand this feeling of dread within you. You wanted to attribute it to your general mistrust of the human race as a whole, but your gut was telling you this was something more. You were in danger, you just didn’t know how or exactly where, but it had to do with the witch who's been sleeping next to you.

Shaky hands picked up her phone, and with your thumb, you pressed the power button to turn on the screen. Unsure of exactly what you would find, and the notification was innocuous enough - a news article regarding some superhero. What caught your attention was the date - it was listed almost ten months since you and Wanda had left your parents’ house. To your knowledge, it’s only been a month or so.

This couldn’t be right. Ten months? No. That wasn’t possible. Did time flow differently here maybe? You wanted so badly to give Wanda the benefit of the doubt, but now that you had opened Pandora’s box, you had to keep going. Hoping you wouldn’t accidentally awaken the witch, you held the phone in front of her face, and it unlocked recognizing her biometrics.

You should probably go to the bathroom to view this without risking waking Wanda up, but your feet refuse to move. Instead, you remained standing there, opening article after article, all of which displayed the same date. Curiosity led you to check the calendar app for today's date, and you had to stifle a gasp as it confirmed what the articles had stated. While you thought it had only been a month or so, Wanda had kept you here for ten months, employing fantasies and electronics to prevent you from questioning her.

Your grip on the phone waivered as you began recalling those moments of déjà vu. As you concentrated and tried to break through the fog of those memories, clarity emerged. You had asked for freedom. Wanda had yelled at you. You had yelled back. Then, Wanda had used her magic to make you fall asleep and erase your memories, essentially starting over and preventing you from realizing how much time was actually passing. How many times had that happened?

Wanda was not keeping you here to help you; she was your captor. The need to escape fought violently against your desire to stay with the woman you had come to adore, even if she had kidnapped and lied to you.

You place the phone back quietly, trying to make your way out of the room as silently as possible. It dawns on you that you should probably pack a bag or something. You have no idea where you are exactly, but if you don't leave now, there's a chance you may never escape.

Quietly, you escape the confines of the house, and head out of the grounds. You aren’t sure exactly where you are going, but you know you have to keep putting one foot in front of the other until you reach civilization. Previously during your numerous strolls across the grounds, you had noticed a vague perimeter, but never had the witch allowed you to go too far. Now you were intent on heading beyond the boundaries she had set, and you were in the dark on what you would find.

Speaking of the dark, even though the moon and stars were visible on this clear night, you had forgotten to grab a flashlight. Or rather, you had elected not to bother looking for one in your hurry to flee. Consequently, the darkness felt more overwhelming than you were accustomed to. You stumbled multiple times, each instance you were praying that you wouldn't accidentally sprain or break something. You weren't sure what was worse - the possibility of facing Wanda's wrath if she should catch you, or dying from the elements if you were to injure yourself and be unable to continue.

As you approached the tree line that marked the boundary Wanda had set, you paused. This was the farthest you had ever been. In truth, you had never even been this close before. Whenever you got within about ten paces, the witch would always give you a gentle warning. Curiosity tickled your thoughts as to what would happen next. Not all of Wanda's magic was mere illusion; she had the power to alter reality itself. What would occur when you crossed the tree line? Would you plunge off the side of Mount Wundagore to a grisly demise, or would you simply step into the woods as they appeared to be?

Either option had to be better to take the risk than to remain a prisoner in what you once believed to be the safety of your own home. Summoning your courage, you stepped into the forest and were surprised to find solid ground. As you continued, each step affirmed that this transformation by Wanda was real - the mountain had truly become a beautiful countryside. Perhaps there was a chance to escape after all. Without hesitation, you ventured further into the forest, hoping to reach civilization on the other side or find a safe hiding spot within before Wanda woke up.

Unknown to you, Wanda had set up protective barriers to alert her if you ever ventured too far. True to form, the moment you stepped beyond the tree line into the woods, her eyes snapped open, blazing with anger. You were leaving. Despite everything she had done for you. Despite the bond you two shared. The witch swiftly leapt out of bed, conjuring a portal not far behind you, determined to catch up with you. Did you really think you could escape her? You would dare? She would teach you. You belonged to her, and she was growing weary of this back-and-forth game you were playing.

As you fled through the forest, it grew denser, blocking out the moonlight. Initially, it seemed easy enough to navigate, but as you continued, the underbrush became thick, causing you to trip every few feet. The seemingly safe forest now loomed around you ominously, your paranoia starting to take over as you heard the skittering of various creatures around you. Logically, you knew they were probably just as startled as you, given how loudly you were thundering through their home. Still, that didn't stop you from feeling eyes on you the further you went, and you began to question if this had been a good idea after all. Unfortunately, it was too late to turn back, and you came to the uncomfortable realization that you didn't even know which direction home was.

A branch snapped somewhere to your left, causing you to turn your head so fast that you wouldn't be surprised if you woke up tomorrow with a crick in your neck. That is, if you managed to survive tonight. You froze in place, your heart pounding in your chest, your breathing loud in your ears as you strained to hear the source of the noise.

It was extremely unsettling for you to realize that the entire forest had suddenly fallen into complete and utter silence. No birds, no animals, nothing at all...

A leaf crunched. This time closer.

Fear seized your heart and you willed yourself to do something. Anything. Run. Hide. Just, something.

Suddenly, you became aware of a low growling sound approaching, and it became clear you were in serious trouble. Why hadn't you stayed inside the house? There must have been a logical explanation for the date change, and Wanda had always been kind to you. Maybe you were just remembering those arguments incorrectly. Now for your misplaced distrust, you were facing imminent death at the hands of something that likely had sharp teeth. Gods, how you despised sharp teeth.

A snarl to your left startled you, freezing you in place as your eyes frantically scanned the forest for whatever had made the noise. You could vaguely make out the silhouette of a creature on all fours not far from you, and your blood felt like it had frozen in your veins. Why hadn't you just gone back to bed next to Wanda?

As you witnessed the shape hurtling towards you from the darkness, a red streak intercepted it, accompanied by the yelp of an injured animal. You blinked and observed a fatally wounded wolf on the ground nearby. Your gaze followed the trajectory from which the red streak had come, revealing Wanda in her pajamas, her hands outstretched with red magic flowing through them, rushing towards you.

"Y/N, are you okay?!" Her voice was tinged with alarm. One hand extinguished her magic to gently hold your arm, while the other remained prepared for any possible threats. With a caring eye, she inspected you for any serious injuries, but found none. Satisfied that you were relatively unscathed, she finally registered your shocked face as you remained silent.

“Y/N what’s wrong? Why are you out here? Talk to me, please?” Wanda extinguished the remaining magic and took your hand, her ire at you dissipating at the fear of you having just been in danger that wasn’t from her.

“I- I had a nightmare. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I just had to run.” You figured that would be believable enough - your night terrors sometimes had you fleeing for your life, you just usually accidentally woke up Wanda in the process before you could get too far. This would be the first time you would have made it out of the bed without waking her up.

Your gaze drifted back to the deceased wolf on the forest floor, and you couldn’t seem to shake the state of shock you were in. Wanda didn’t think anything more of your explanation, your night terrors happened often enough, and you didn't seem to be fleeing from her. It was the only thing that made sense to her. After all, everything had been okay earlier, there was nothing to indicate you were unhappy or would try to leave her.

Relieved that you were unharmed, and not attempting to escape, the witch focused on trying to calm you, as she could see telltale signs of you beginning to disassociate. Gently, she placed a hand to your cheek, tilting your face until you were making eye contact with her. “Don’t look at it, dorogoya, it’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Let’s go home, okay?”

In that moment, all you wanted was for Wanda to handle all your thinking. Anything else required too much effort, and honestly, you were too exhausted for anything else. You nodded and leaned into her touch, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as you embraced the sense of security she provided. Your hand reached up to cover hers on your cheek, interlocking your fingers with hers.

You heard more than saw the portal she summoned to take you both home, and blindly followed her through it back into your room. Hands still interlinked; she led you into the adjoining bathroom. At this point you had mentally checked out, completely overwhelmed by the night’s events. Under normal circumstances you would be mortified that Wanda was about to see you naked in this state - filthy, covered in scratches from your stumble through the woods, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It didn’t help that you had entered a non-verbal state.

Wanda made it easier for you. Although this wasn't how she had imagined the first time she would see you naked, her main concern was to clean your wounds and ensure your comfort so you could fall back asleep. Tenderly, she assisted you in undressing, her eyes never lingering or straying where they shouldn't. She only took quick glances to assess any damage. You were grateful for her magic, which meant you didn't have to wait for the water to heat up to the perfect temperature.

She didn't bother undressing herself, but simply helped you into the shower under the falling water and followed in after. First, she helped wet your hair and then lathered it with shampoo before rinsing. The sensation of her blunt nails against your scalp was so soothing that you almost fell asleep. Then, Wanda took the washcloth, lathered it with soap, and started gently washing your body, beginning with your face. As gently as possible, the red head cleansed your wounds and removed the blood and dirt from your skin.

After deeming you sufficiently cleaned, Wanda turned off the water and began toweling you off, wrapping you up in a towel. She then discarded her own waterlogged clothing and began drying herself. While you stood there, feeling useless, Wanda grabbed pajamas for both of you and helped you put them on. After, she then put on her own pajamas before leading you back to bed.

“Do you want to talk about it, Y/N/N?”

You shook your head and climbed into bed after Wanda. Instead of the usual routine where she held you from behind as the big spoon, you surprised her by snuggling into her arms, facing her, and resting your head in the crook of her neck. Although you still had questions about the cell service on her phone and the months you were supposedly missing, Wanda has been kind to you, and she just saved your life. Those questions can be addressed another day. Finally feeling safe again, you allowed your exhaustion to consume you.

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