#the choice seems obvious but the details fell on deaf ears

[for-thee]

this country is going to kill me. my and so many other people's blood is going to be on its hands because people chose lower gas prices over human rights.

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Heart Of Stone

Summary: You were taught to show no emotions. Emotions were your weakness.

Warnings: language, some angst, blood, self-inflicted pain, death, abusive parents (maybe more)

Word Count: ~5000

A/N: This is one of my submissions for @the--sad--hatter​ ‘s Birthday Tea Party! Happy Birthday Kara ❤️! Also I’m posting this at 3 am 🤭

Bucky Fic Here

You felt the tickle of the forced tear as it rolled down your cheek. Your target seemed to buy it. Of course, he did. Shaun Bartlett was a friend of your asshole of a mother. He may have been rich, but he had nothing going on upstairs. Nothing good, anyway. He was one of the men who sponsored your mother’s ‘experiments,’ unbeknownst to the Avengers. They suspected the large amounts of money disappearing from his accounts were being funneled to Hydra.

When you sniffed, the grey-haired man put his arm around your waist and pulled you out of the busy gala room. Natasha’s red hair caught your eye before you entered the hallway where, surprise, Steve came out of the bathroom. He made eye contact with you and sent you a small nod. You faked a stumble in your heels and then let out another sob.

“Oh, I just can’t do a-anything,” you cried and hid your face in your hands.

“Shh. There, there.” Bartlett rubbed your arm in what you thought was supposed to be comforting. Instead, it made you want to stab him even more than you already did. “I’m sure you’re good for something.” How ominous, perverted, and condescending.

“We saw you leaving,” Sam’s voice came out of the comm in your ear. “Give us the signal when you’re alone.”

Bartlett led you to his large, ornate office. You did a quick survey of the room before discreetly tapping your comm for your team. Now all you had to do was put a bullet or blade in Bartlett.

“Get yourself comfortable, darlin’.” He shrugged off his suit jacket.

If he thought anything of your sudden lack of tears, he didn’t show it. Honestly, you didn’t think he thought at all. You smiled at him and coyly teased the edge of the slit in your dress. When you finally pulled it away, it revealed a holster carrying a Glock 42 and a simple throwing knife.

Sam, Nat, and Steve burst through the doors at that moment. Your smile quickly disappeared and as Bartlett realized what was happening, your blade found itself embedded between his eyes. His body fell to the ground and the three Avengers in the doorway gaped at you with varying looks of shock and disappointment.

“What the fuck?” Sam broke the silence.

“We were going to question him.” Steve glared at you and Bartlett’s body. “We don’t fucking kill them.”

“And that’s the problem.” Your face remained in its usual stoic expression, but you knew you fucked up when Captain America swore at you. “These types of people—”

“You’re right,” Natasha cut in with a gentle tone. “There are some bad people in the world and maybe they deserve to die, but it’s not your job to decide.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child. I’m—”

“Can we do this somewhere else?” Sam interrupted this time.

You glared at him but Steve and Nat agreed. You don’t know what happens to dead bodies on missions, but maybe it’s because there usually weren’t any. The entire way back to the compound, someone’s eyes were on you.

Tony was waiting for you when you landed. He raised his eyebrows when he noticed that the four of you were empty handed.

“Aren’t you supposed to have some guy with you?” he asked and studied everyone’s expressions. “What happened?”

“Ask her.” Steve nodded at you before stomping away. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, call everyone to the briefing room. Now.”

You rolled your eyes slightly and Tony looked at you quizzically

“He’s being dramatic,” was all you said.

“Not as dramatic as you’d think, though,” Nat added before following Steve.

“You do know you fucked up, right?” Sam glared at you.

Apparently, everyone had time to let their anger stew on the flight home. You just rolled your eyes again.

“Emotion,” Tony said. He had gotten into a habit of pointing out whenever you made a facial expression. “So what happened?” It was your turn to walk off.

Somehow, you made it to the briefing room without going insane due to Tony’s incessant questioning. Couldn’t he wait one fucking minute? Surely Steve was going to talk all about it during the meeting.

It was quiet when you walked in. Everyone was already situated around the table. You noticed that Loki was here. Loki sightings around the compound were rare, but based on his disgruntled expression that contrasted Thor’s large grin, he didn’t come by choice.

The few times you had seen the raven-haired god, you could have sworn his bright eyes were following you. Like right now, as you took your seat, he was watching you. In a challenge, you narrowed your eyes the slightest bit and saw a small smirk grace Loki’s perfectly sculpted face. Wait, what?

Tony leaned over and muttered, “Emotion.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes lest he do it again. 

“You may be wondering why you’re all here,” Steve began. “You may also have noticed that Shaun Bartlett is not with us.” Damn, he was really mad mad about this. “Someone decided to kill him, leaving us without any leads on Hydra. Yet again.”

“I don’t think—” you began before Steve jumped in.

“Yes, you didn’t think. There was no reason to kill him.”

“Yes there was,” you growled.

“Care to share with the rest of us?” Sam crossed his arms.

“We’ve all taken lives before. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You took a life. Of someone who could have had information on Hydra, I might add,” Steve said. “You can leave now. You’re benched for the following three weeks.”

You were about to protest before you realized that the rest of the team was just watching you and Steve go back and forth like a tennis match. You pushed back your seat, which didn’t make as big a screeching sound as you had hoped, and left the room.

Control. 

You were a personal person and Bartlett was a personal problem that you were not going to share with the team.

[Week 1, Day 1]

They were leaving. They were all leaving to bust some shit Hydra base. The only ones that were going to be in the compound were you and Loki.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. will be keeping an eye on you,” Tony told you. 

“Stay out of trouble.” Steve gave you a hard look.

“Why are looking at me when you say that?” You asked and raised your eyebrow a millimeter. “You do know Loki is standing right next to me. Loki. The fucker who invaded New York.”

“Stay out of trouble.”

You couldn’t believe it. They thought you were going to cause more trouble than Loki? At least Tony gave you an empathetic look before he left, but it was probably for your poor company. Loki turned to you with a mischievous hint glint in his eyes. You rolled your own before marching away. 

Don’t let your emotions show, your mother’s voice shot through your head. Emotions are your weakness. Learn to turn them off.

Face muscles relaxed, but hard, calculating eyes. You’ve been slipping up in the year you’ve spent with the Avengers. There was nobody here to beat the emotion out of you. 

Except you.

So you found yourself in the gym, improper workout clothes, in front of a punching bag. You looked momentarily at the two acorn-sized pieces of jagged amethyst you always carried. You remembered summoning them on accident when you were five. Your father had promised to carve them into those mini sculptures you’d loved, but that was before your mother betrayed him. Before your mother betrayed you.

It’s because of you she does those… things, this time, it was your father.

Pushing the thoughts of your father out of your head, you placed each amethyst into each unwrapped hand. Each punch you threw at the bag sent sharp pains up your arms as the hard crystals cut into you already scarred palms.

Pain is temporary. Don’t let it stop you.

Yes, mother.

It’s your fault she hurts people.

Okay, father.

If you can’t control your emotions, you can’t control anything.

Her inspiration.

If you can’t get yourself under control, it’ll be your fault they died.

Her muse.

“I’m pretty sure you’re doing that wrong.”

You didn’t jump at the sudden voice, but you noticed a small quartz you had summoned sticking out of the punching bag. Control.

“Don’t sneak up on me,” you replied and looked at him. You weren’t easily spooked, if you could call it that, but somehow the infamous God of Mischief had avoided your senses. You’ll let it slide this time because he was a god. This time.

“I wasn’t trying to.” Loki leaned against a wall and watched you examine your split knuckles. “I’m not an expert but I think you should have protected your hands.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You clenched your fists tighter and noticed small trickles of blood escape from your palms.

“You’re bleeding.” 

“No shit,” you said again.

You opened your hands and revealed the bloodied amethysts. Then you pulled the quartz out of the bag, sand pouring from the rip, and stomped past Loki and out of the gym. Thankfully he didn’t follow you.

[Week 1, Day 6]

You haven't seen Loki in the past five days. The only sign of someone else in the large compound was the food missing from the cupboards.

“How are your hands?”

Fuck. You had to restrain yourself from throwing the TV remote at the god’s head and instead, sapphires appeared to bedazzle it.

“Fine,” you held up your scabbed knuckles and scarred palms. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you out of your snake burrow.”

“What are you watching?”

“A movie.” He looked at you for more details so you obliged. “It’s a home invasion movie, but the protagonist is deaf. Do you want to join? I’m not that far in.”

You didn’t know why you had invited him to join, but you were happy when he shrugged and sat at the other end of the couch. Every minute you found yourself glancing over at Loki. He was always wearing green, gold, and black Asgardian clothes. In comparison, you were wearing a sweatshirt and leggings.

“I do believe you’re watching me more than the movie,” he said. Shit, were you really that obvious?

“I’ve seen it before. I like watching people’s reaction to something I know is coming,” you explained. That was true, but it wasn’t the only reason.

“You enjoy observing others.” He wasn’t watching the movie anymore either.

“Are you observing me observing you?” You quirked your eyebrow.

“Perhaps.” Loki smirked.

“Tell me,” you moved so that your body faced him and you were able to rest your head on your arm propped on the back of the sofa. “What do you see?”

“A lot.” He mimicked your position so you mimicked his smirk. “I can see the difference between what you want me to see and what is involuntary. I can see that you see more, think more, and know more than you let on.”

“Then we have that in common.”

You realized how quickly you had gotten comfortable with Loki and honestly, it scared you. You were never comfortable with people. You were never supposed to be comfortable, your parents made sure of that.

“I’m going to bed.” You stood up abruptly and left the living room before he could react. Keep your emotions in check.

Loki didn’t follow you.

[Week 2, Day 2]

You scraped your fork across the bottom of your plate to get the last bits of your dinner. Your white bed sheets were still, thankfully, without any stains. Yes, you had been eating in your room for the past couple of days to avoid Loki. It seemed as if you had become the hermit in this situation.

You placed the empty dish by the door, promising to bring it to the kitchen tomorrow, and stretched your sore muscles from the quick excursion to the gym. The next thing on your nightly routine was relaxation, and you sure utilized the time. With your comfortable sleep clothes on and your favorite show playing, you sunk into your welcoming bed.

“—under arrest for kidnapping, murder, and illegal experimentation.”

“NO!” Your mother’s arms pulled you back. “DON’T TAKE HIM! HE DIDN’T DO ANY OF IT! IT WASN’T HIM!”

“I’m sorry agents,” your mother sniffed as convincing tears rolled down her cheeks. “All of the evidence points to him. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“DAD! DON’T LEAVE, DAD!”

“Be quiet. That’s enough of that. Enough!” Sharp nails cut into your shoulder. “Enough with the fucking stalling. Shoot him.”

The familiar gun suddenly felt heavy in your hands as you stared at the gagged man tied to the chair. Your mother said he was an evil man. You raised the gun. The man whimpered against the cloth in his mouth.

“It’s about time you took a life, you’re already eleven.”

He shook his head and pleaded with his eyes.

“Do you see that?” A stray tear cut a path through the blood and grime covering his face. “Emotion. He is fucking weak and the weak ones always die.”

You squeezed the trigger and the man slumped forward.

“Good girl.” Her mouth twisted into a smile. “Good girl. Focus on the items.”

Your eyes were shut tight and your face was damp with sweat. You could feel the gems, crystals, and precious metals surrounding you. The hexagonal quartz and the amethyst that was shaped into a cube. A gold nugget and an emerald ring.

“Do the quartz first.”

You felt the dimensions. The depth. The small scratches on the smooth faces. When you opened your eyes you saw the original crystal and the duplicate you had summoned.

Your mother gave you a few courtesy claps before gesturing towards the nugget. You had the same success you had with the quartz. It wasn’t until you reached the man-made or modified objects when you had problems.

“Pathetic,” your mother spat and you felt her rings cut into your cheek. “Weak.” You heard the sound of a gun cocking. “Try again.”

“I—” you quickly wiped away a tear but your mother noticed.

“No fucking emotion. Emotion is weakness.”

The sound of the gun going off echoed through the room and you felt the bullet tear through your thigh.

You clenched your jaw to trap the groan trying to escape. The echo of the pain slowly faded but the memories lingered. The TV was still on and Netflix's ‘are you still watching?’ screen was up. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. The glowing red numbers of the clock on your bedside table read 1:47.

It was time for a post-midnight snack so you made your way to the kitchen. With a cup of tea and some cereal, you sat in the darkness just… existing, trying not to think of your dream. How many episodes had you missed? Aw, shit. You could’ve brought your dirty plate down. Now you had to do it later. You groaned.

“Is everything okay?”

“Jesus fucking shit, Loki!” You actually threw your spoon at him this time but fortunately he ducked. “I thought I told you don’t sneak up on me.”

“You just make it too easy,” he responded with a smirk.

“Shut up.” You watched him as he moved to sit across from you.

“What are you doing in here?”

“What are you doing in here?”

“I asked you first,” he responded and you rolled your eyes. 

“Couldn’t sleep. I’m sure you can relate.” Loki hummed in agreement. “Your turn.”

“Same reason. Dreams of the past. You never answered my question, by the way. Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” You took a sip of your steaming tea.

“I thought we already established that I can read you. You can talk to me if you want. But,” he continued before you could shoot him down. “At least tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I didn’t want to get comfortable,” you said slowly. “It goes against everything I’ve been taught.”

“I pushed away a lot of people throughout my life. I always believed that I was unworthy. My father always told me I was unworthy.”

“It was my mother for me. She taught me most of everything I know.”

“My mother did the same, but with a lighter tone. It seemed as if only she, and occasionally my brother, cared for me.”

“At least you had a brother. My father was kind until my mother got greedy. Until she fucking betrayed us. She blamed everything on him.” You fell silent when you realized that Loki now knew more about you than anyone else.

“Thank you,” he said and he took your hand in his. “I know it’s hard, talking about your past, so thank you for talking to me.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” You smiled.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you smile. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Your smile grew and for once you didn’t try to hide the emotions that were painted across your face. The smile stayed with you until you fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

[Week 2, Day 4]

Everyone was coming home tomorrow. You cared about the Avengers, they were your friends, but you couldn’t help but mourn the loss of peace and quiet. You liked being alone, though you have been enjoying time spent with Loki.

“Have you chosen a movie yet?” You sat in your new spot, next to the god, and offered him some of your popcorn. Your shoulders brushed against each other’s and the slight touch sent shivers down your spine.

“There are so many choices, but yes.” He took a handful of popcorn.

“Jurassic Park,” you read the title. “A classic. Who knew Loki the Trickster God liked dinosaurs?”

“Well, I don’t know if I like them yet. I haven’t seen the movie.”

“Oh, hush.”

You resumed your new favorite activity of watching Loki. You couldn’t help yourself. You analyzed his eyes, which you noticed changed between blue, green, and hazel in different lightings. You liked his sharp jawline and cheekbones. Your eyes followed the slope of his nose down to his lips. They were pink and they looked soft and all you wanted to do was—

“You’re staring again,” Loki said while Denis Nerdy unsuccessfully tried to flee.

“Well, I just like—”

“Watching reactions. I know,” he gave you his signature smirk. “As much as I enjoy you and your staring, this movie is getting exciting.”

“It was already exciting but you—”

He cut you off again but this time he did it by pressing his lips to yours. It was short, probably only two seconds, but your mind was blissfully blank. He brought his finger to his lips, winked, and then returned to the movie. Loki, you had learned, was the only person able to leave you speechless.

[Week 3, Day 6]

The sound of exaggerated gagging forced you and Loki apart. Your eyes landed on Sam, the source of the gagging. In the past week since they’ve been back, the rest of the Avengers still couldn’t believe the change that had come upon you.

“Can’t you do that somewhere else?” Sam made a face. When the group had finally gotten over the shock and suspicions that one of you had an ulterior motive, they let you and Loki grow closer together. “But honestly, I’m glad to see you happy. Though it’s still strange seeing you with real emotions.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to face Sam. Loki stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and Sam faked a gag again.

“Oh, grow the fuck up,” you said and smiled when you felt Loki rest his head on your shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Briefing room. Everyone’s invited.” Sam’s gaze moved to Loki. “But I don’t want to see any of your weird, out of character, lovey dovey bullshit.”

You sat in the briefing room, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Loki held your hand and you put your head on his shoulder. You noticed Nat and Wanda’s smirks and Thor’s beaming smile. Tony narrowed his eyes for a second before giving you a grin and a nod. He, like many others, were wary of Loki but were happy for you. At least he had given up with that ‘Emotion’ shit.

“We tracked where Bartlett’s money was going,” Steve said as he walked in. Your blood ran cold and you sat up. “We had a bit of trouble tracking it after someone killed him,” maybe he was still a little salty, “but we’re getting everyone on this.”

“That means your benching is ending one day early,” Tony said to you. “We’re attacking a large base tomorrow.”

“Is it Hydra?” Wanda asked.

“We actually don’t know,” Steve answered. “But we need to prepare for anything.”

As you were walking out, Steve called your name. You nodded at Loki to go on ahead before going up to the blond.

“You don’t have to tell me the reason you killed Bartlett, but can I have your word that you won’t kill anyone.”

You thought for a moment. Chances were that you were going to see your mother again. Would you be able to control yourself?

“I’m sorry, but I can’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Nobody spoke on the flight to the mission, but the jet was anything but quiet as wind and rain pelted the sides. Your fingers were entwined with Loki’s. The jet landed harshly and when you stepped out, you were instantly drenched. Loki pulled you towards the building, following the glowing lights of Tony’s suit.

Everyone piled into the empty lobby, dripping puddles onto the tiled floor. Loki put his hand on your shoulder and warmth spread through your body as he used his magic to dry you. Sam’s longing stare at your dried uniform almost made you chuckle. Almost. The threat of your mother still hung heavy over your head.

You split up in two teams. Tony, Wanda, Thor, and Sam went left while you, Loki, Nat, and Steve went right. Your team crept down a hall with only a few incursions. You were drawn to a room that was emitting a glowing, blue light.

“What the fuck?” Nat gasped when she took in the room’s contents.

Rows upon rows of tanks filled with glowing liquid and people. This had to be your mother’s doing. Her experiments. A small white square at eye level was on each tank. When you got closer, you realized they were nametags of sorts.

“M. Cowell,” you read the one nearest to you. “Energy manipulation.”

“V. Hargreeves,” Loki read another. “Sound manipulation.”

“These people are all enhanced.”

Steve called your name from deeper in the room. “I think you’ll want to see this.” You found him next to an empty tank. “It’s your name.” He pointed to the tag.

A chill shot through your body as you read your initial and last name. Printed by your name were the words ‘Crystal manipulation.’

“Let’s get out of here,” you whispered and sped your way out to the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked when he joined you in the hall.

“No.”

The hallway opened up into a tall room, a balcony circled the perimeter above you. Across from you, the other team emerged from their side. Before anyone could say anything, the clicking of heels drew everyone’s attention upwards. Your mother came into view. She was flanked by four armed guards who pointed their rifles down at you.

“Who the fuck are you?” Tony asked.

“I’m hurt that my daughter hasn’t told you about me.” She dramatically placed a hand on her chest.

“Daughter?” the other team echoed but your team looked at you.

“Are you Hydra?” Steve stepped in.

“Oh, heavens no. My organization has nothing to do with Hydra. I’m surprised at how long it took you to track down the Red Sapphire.”

“You’re an organization?” you asked. “You’re not working alone?”

“You can stop playing dumb now, my dear.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You killed Bartlett so the weak little fucker couldn’t blab to the Avengers. But I thought I taught you to clean up crime scenes better. Your prints were everywhere.”

“Is that why you killed him?” Steve turned to you.

“No.” You glared at your mother. “You are not going to get rid of me the same way you got rid of dad.” You felt around with your powers. She was wearing a gold necklace.

“Don’t show emotion. Emotion is weak—”

“Shut up!”

You forced the gold chain around her neck to tighten until your mother was grasping at her neck. You blocked out the voices of the Avengers telling you to stop. The four guards readied their guns so, without releasing your mother, you sent up sharp ammonium phosphate crystals and impaled the four. Your mother’s face was changing colors. The necklace tightened around her neck until it cut her skin. Until she collapsed.

“What did you do?” someone asked before you passed out from the exertion.

You woke up on the floor of the jet.

“Perfect timing,” Tony said. “We just landed.”

The jet’s ramp lowered and everyone walked out without looking at you. You stayed on the ground for a moment, rethinking your actions, regretting nothing, before you picked yourself up and walked out.

“Loki,” you sighed with relief. The god was standing at the bottom of the ramp. When he didn’t return your smile you hesitated. “What’s wrong?”

“You killed your own mother,” he stated and crossed his arms.

“Yeah? She was a wicked, vile bitch.”

“You shouldn’t have done it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” If anyone was going to be on your side, it would have been Loki. “You should understand. Your father was horrible too.”

“I wouldn’t have killed him. He lied to me my entire life. He hated me, belittled me, ignored me and so much more but I wouldn’t have fucking killed him.”

“You don’t know all the things my mother has done.” You felt tears begin to build up. “Try to think of what you would do if your mother killed hundreds, thousands, of people. She hurt others, hurt me. She made me do terrible things.”

“Not as terrible as what you did back there.”

You took a shaky breath and couldn’t prevent the tears from spilling.

“People always said I was the cruel one but all this time, it was you. You only think of yourself. You only care about you. You’re the one with the fucking heart of stone.” You didn’t bother to wipe the tears off of your face as you stormed away. He didn’t follow you.

Loki, you had learned, was the only person able to make you cry.

In the following week, everyone avoided you. That was fine. You didn’t want to fucking see anyone. You had reverted to your pre-Loki persona. No emotions. Turns out your mother was right for once. Emotion is weakness.

Your days were spent alone in your room. Plans to track down and dismantle the Red Sapphire spread over every surface. You spent your nights in the gym. Crystals clenched in your unwrapped hands as you pummeled the punching bags. Don’t show pain.

“I’m leaving,” you announced to the almost empty kitchen. Steve and Tony looked at you, their first acknowledgement of you in a week. “I’m taking one of your cars. Don’t try to stop me.”

“We can’t let you leave. You’re a danger,” Steve said the same time Tony said,

“At least tell me what your mother did.”

You looked at Tony, ignoring Steve’s comment. You took a deep breath and told your story, to the surprise of both men. You told them about the discovery of your powers. You told them about your mother’s greed in wanting more. More from you. More powered individuals to serve her. You told them how you walked past dead bodies every day. You told them how your mother hurt you when you broke your stone facade. When you trained. When you failed. You told them how your father blamed you for your mother’s actions. How he wasted away drowning in alcohol. You told them about your mother framing your father.

“I’m going to destroy the organization she worked with.”

“There’s no way to prevent you from killing them,” Steve sighed.

“No, there’s not.”

“How about you don’t die, huh?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty big priority,” you said and Tony pulled you into a hug. You closed your eyes and savored the moment until you forced yourself to pull away. “Goodbye.”

You retrieved your duffle bag and backpack from your room. The whole elevator ride down to the garage, you fiddled with the car keys. One day you would regret not saying goodbye. You stepped out of the elevator but you were quickly stopped in your tracks by Loki standing in front of the car you were taking.

“I heard you were leaving.”

“Yeah.” You refused to look at the god and loaded your bags into the car.

“I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me—”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Damn, he was blocking the driver’s door.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t understand you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain. Just let me do one thing. Let me come with you. Please, I want to help you.”

“You’re in my fucking way.”

“Look at me, please.” You obliged. “I want to come with you. I will follow you anywhere.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he cautiously placed a hand on your cheek and you unconsciously leaned into his touch. “Because I love you.”

Fuck, your eyes were misting again. “I-I might go to some dark places.”

“I will follow you anywhere,” he repeated.

“Okay,” you whispered. “You can come.” Loki’s beautiful eyes lit up and went to go to the passenger side. “Wait, Loki.”

You walked over to him and kissed him. You kissed him like you were never going to kiss him again. You kissed him like you hadn’t kissed him in a week, because you hadn’t. You kissed him with everything you had.

“I love you too.”

A/N: I had to put that small Umbrella Academy reference in there, I just binged season 2.

[kentuckywrites]

And I Will Proclaim The End

Zanza installed an emergency protocol into Alvis, should he ever fail in his mission. He failed, and Alvis has no choice but to enact His will.

Light enveloped Shulk as his Monado pierced through Zanza’s armor, straight through to the skin. Zanza proclaimed in a desperate whisper that he was fading, but his parting words fell on deaf ears. All Shulk had on his mind was ridding this world - his home - of this vengeful god. And when the light surrounded him, he knew that he’d won.

His feet found purchase on the holographic ground of space once again, and with a quick glance over his right shoulder, he saw his friends, all wide eyed and tense. Shulk gave them all a tired smile. This fight was more than they’d expected, but they’d all made it out alive. Victory was theirs to share, victory was theirs to revel in. 

As Shulk turned around to face where Zanza had once stood, he saw both of the other Monados floating in the air, their blades touching at the tips. A third form joined them, a teal-green glow that took the shape of a diamond. While the two Monados circled each other in time, the diamond was out of sync, moving faster for some unknown reason. He gazed down at the blue Monado in his hand, a testament to his will and perseverance, glowing faintly in the void of space. It was only fatigue he could blame for how his hand quivered. 

A question came to his lips, but only a name was brought to fruition. 

“Alvis?”

The silver haired Homs had told him only moments before that it was time for him to choose, and he’d made his decision without regret. In the silence, every question he had about Alvis began to bubble back to the surface, but Alvis was nowhere to be seen. At least, the form that Shulk was accustomed to wasn’t there. Some foreign feeling in his gut prompted him to stare at the green diamond amongst the two Monados in the air. Again, he called out, more sure of himself this time.

“Alvis?”

“Forgive me, Shulk.”

And there was his voice, stoic and calm, echoing from the diamond. Shulk went to ask why, why was he apologizing, but when he blinked, the diamond had turned red. Shulk stepped back, his heart racing under his jacket, and he clutched the hilt of his Monado tighter, tighter, until his knuckles had turned white. 

“What’s happening?” Fiora asked, a curious fear evident in her voice. Her swords were still drawn, but with this new development she prepared a fighting stance once again. 

“Executing File 12, Program 17.”

The diamond floated downwards towards the unseen floor, spinning faster and faster until its shape was indeterminable. From the midst of its light, Alvis’s laughter pierced through, but it grew into something maniacal, something dark and twisted. And from the light, a new shape began to take form. Shulk watched as arms, legs, a body grew - Alvis’s body, it had to be. But where there had been simple layers of clothing before, there was now armor that gave him structure. The light began to fade, and Alvis’s details grew clearer. The armor he now adorned was reminiscent of Zanza’s, circular and shining, though where gold had adorned Zanza, red now complemented the crystal on Alvis’s necklace. Lines of energy cascaded down his arms, legs and chest, pulsating with what Shulk could only assume was ether. A new crown had formed around his forehead, and across parts of his body, there were glowing fragments similar to a Telethia’s wings.

Alvis’s stare found Shulk first, a new contempt hidden behind his familiar silver eyes. A crooked smile adorned his lips, and in that smile Shulk saw Zanza, and only Zanza.

“My apologies, Shulk, but I’m afraid your journey will have to end here,” Alvis said, and his voice was warmer now, full of a seething hatred Shulk hadn’t realized he was capable of.

“Alvis? What is the meaning of this nonsense?” Melia piped up, trying to act dignified in the face of this uncertainty, “What’s happened to you?”

“Your Highness, isn’t it quite obvious?” Alvis chuckled, “Lord Zanza programmed me to undertake His responsibilities, in the event of His demise. An emergency protocol, really, but it would seem that in this case, it was better to be safe than sorry.”

“Programmed? You’re talking like you’re a machine for Zanza to control!” Shulk said.

“Precisely, Shulk. I exist only to serve Lord Zanza and perpetuate his will upon this forsaken world. Once you have been removed, He will rise again to complete the cycle of destruction and creation.”

“Shulk just killed Zanza! He ain’t comin’ back!” Reyn cried out, “Yer fightin’ a battle for a dead guy! Just admit you’ve lost, ya filthy traitor!”

Again, Alvis chuckled, pressing his fist to his chin as if he was in deep thought. “So long as you speak His name, Lord Zanza remains alive, though without corporeal form. In due time He will return, and until that time is upon us, I shall set out to finish what He could not.”

Reyn hissed as he sucked in air through his clenched teeth. He took a step forward, acting as though he was ready to fight. But a katana blocked his path; Dunban had extended his blade into Reyn’s path, staring at Alvis with a cold and unblinking stare. Shulk couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through his mind, but all he knew was that they wouldn’t be able to fight for much longer. Everyone was exhausted - Zanza had been a formidable opponent a nearly omnipotent god facing seven mortals of his own design.

“I can’t claim to understand what’s going on,” Dunban told the group, his voice hoarse, “But it looks as though a fight is unavoidable.”

“But Alvis is friend!” Riki bounced up and down in protest, “Riki cannot hurt his friend!”

“He is not our friend anymore, Riki,” Melia said, resigned to this new fate. “And I will not hesitate to strike him down, as he stands in the way of our futures!”

Shulk trembled - this was not what he had planned for. He agreed with Riki in that Alvis was a friend. He’d been there to push Shulk forward, venerating his ability to choose his own fate. But Melia was right, too. They’d come too far to stop now. Everyone on Bionis depended on him and his friends. Hell, his friends were depending on him. Everything fell onto Shulk’s shoulders, in the end, and he would carry that weight for as long as he needed. 

Confused, scared, betrayed, he pointed his Monado at Alvis. There was a flash of something hidden in his gaze, something that Shulk realized too late was regret. “So you wish to fight? Then I shall entertain you, Shulk, one last time.”

Alvis summoned both Zanza and Meyneth’s Monados in the second that Shulk blinked, and he tossed Shulk a wicked smile as if it were a cheap birthday gift. Shulk tried to calm his nerves by telling himself that this couldn’t be Alvis - no, it wasn’t Alvis, it was Zanza’s will, Zanza controlling the puppet’s strings even in death. He’d had fate tied around his fingers, twisted in perfect knots, and now they wrapped around Alvis’s body and mind and soul. 

But Shulk had cut those strings before. He knew he had, because Zanza never expected to die. But how many more times would he have to cut the strings of fate before they couldn’t tie themselves back together?

Gripping his Monado in both hands, his knuckles went white with stress. Behind him, Shulk heard Fiora’s ether cannons firing up, and Sharla reloading her ether rifle. His friends had his back, and that he knew for a fact. 

“Alright everyone,” He said, “We’ve beat a god once...what’s one more?”

Chapter 2 

[snarkybluechristian]

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 4

Vaggie dashed down the multiple flights of stairs as quietly as she could until she finally reached the bottom and stopped to catch her breath and think.  

The Radio Demon’s home was much larger than she thought.  Oh, well.  On the bright side, that should mean she would have plenty of places to hide…

A bright red light lit up the far end of the hallway indicating the presence of Alastor or one of his minions.  Vaggie practically stopped breathing for a moment.  She didn’t start breathing again until the light disappeared into another direction.  Vaggie didn’t know where it had gone, but she figured she didn’t have time to figure that out.

Vaggie crept quietly off the stairs and opened the door of the first room she saw.  After shutting the door with her bound hands, she stopped to look around.  

As her eyes started adjusting to the dark, Vaggie realized that she was in a workout room.  

Strewn all over the black-matted floor, there was a bunch of really old-fashioned looking workout equipment. There were dumbbells with round weights at the end, a treadmill that was run manually, a rowing machine, and other equipment that Vaggie could only vaguely recognize.

Vaggie didn’t study the equipment too much however.  She quickly noticed the sliding glass doors on the other side of the room leading to the outside and made her next move.

Vaggie silently navigated around the equipment.  She moved as slowly and quietly as she possibly could avoiding every noise possible. Vaggie even regulated the noise of her breathing.

She did not know the full extent of Alastor’s demonic power.  Nobody really did, except those he had deposed and sent to the fiery pit, but Vaggie had a hunch.  

Alastor only came back to her room and dished out punishment when she had destroyed one of his radios. A rich kingpin like him could easily replace a broken radio and Vaggie had seen dozens of them in the house during their “tour,” so he didn’t return to lecture her about breaking a prized possession. There was another reason Alastor came back.  

Vaggie suspected that reason was that Alastor needed radios for surveillance.  Somehow, he used radios as listening devices that were telepathically connected to his ears.  He used them to survey his home, and most likely, the rest of hell.  That was how Alastor could hear whatever Angel had done and how he likely collected information all over hell.  Without them, he was blind, or more accurately, deaf to things happening across a longer distance.  

If that was true, Alastor had a few obvious weaknesses.  First, as with any security system, Alastor couldn’t possibly catch everything, especially since radios didn’t keep recordings.  Second, Alastor couldn’t track what he couldn’t hear, so if a target was silent and fast enough, they could theoretically escape him.  No one had succeeded yet, but that didn’t mean Vaggie couldn’t try. Besides, what choice did she have?

Vaggie finally reached the sliding door without facing any signs from Alastor.  She unlocked the sliding door, stepped outside, and silently slid it shut.  Still no sign of Alastor.  Vaggie smiled.  It looked like she was right.

That smile quickly disappeared however when she saw the Radio Demon’s large garden.  There were dozens of well-tended beds of red poppies with large statues in the center of each one.  As she approached one of the beds, Vaggie’s heart skipped a beat.  The statues were of demons, and not just any demons, they were all painstakingly-detailed statues of former kingpins.  Vaggie couldn’t recognize their faces, but she recognized the names on the little plaques placed by their feet.  

For the moth demon, it was more than a little unnerving, but she couldn’t let herself get scared now. Vaggie shook the thoughts out of her head and looked for an exit.  

Unfortunately, when Vaggie looked past the statues, she realized that there was a tall iron fence lining the property’s boundary against the outskirts of a thick forest. Vaggie quickly but quietly ran up to the fence under the shadow of the trees where it would be easier to hide and look for an exit on the periphery.  

Once she arrived, Vaggie stopped to catch her breath, looked back at the house she had just escaped from, and gasped in awe.  

It was the largest house she had ever seen, not counting the Happy Hotel.  It was easily five stories and large enough to house every resident in the El Salvador slum where she grew up.  The exterior was a red, stone, chateau-esque Gilded Age mansion that somehow looked every bit as menacing as Alastor’s reputation.  The red-flowered vines growing on the walls did nothing to soften its threatening exterior.  They couldn’t have.  The flowers, like the house and the poppies, were the color of blood.  

It was nowhere Vaggie wanted to be forced to live.  She scoffed at its excess and began walking tentatively under the shadow of the trees next to the iron fence.  

Vaggie looked at the fence and guessed that it went up about 20 feet.  A demon like Angel could hop over it without too much trouble, but for her, it was too high, especially considering that her wrists were still bound together. She would have to find a gate and pray that she could escape that way instead.

Vaggie began chewing at the knots that held her wrists together and tried her best not to worry about Angel.  If she got out of this place at all, it would be because of him and yet there was nothing she could do to help him.  That ate at Vaggie’s conscience.  

The dumbass got on her nerves and made horribly misguided decisions, but even she couldn’t deny there was good in him.  Angel had a reluctant heart of gold when it came to his friends, and even if he claimed he only came to save her to get back at Alastor, Vaggie knew that Angel considered her enough of a friend to stick his neck out for her all the same. She now owed him.

Vaggie stopped chewing the tight knots in frustration.  Rosie was very experienced at tying knots.  She probably had a kill count as high as Alastor did.  

Vaggie hated it.  She hated the rope that bound her hands together. She hated that she couldn’t help Angel. She hated Rosie for being a sadistic bitch.  She hated Alastor for dragging her there in the first place.  She hated that she couldn’t scream out her pain in frustration in case Alastor heard her and came running to retrieve her.  She hated all of it and could do nothing but shed angry tears and send God angry prayers for not helping her more quickly.

Then as if an answer to prayer, Vaggie noticed a small stone house the size of a medium-sized shed coming up in the distance.  She assumed it was a shed for gardening tools.  It had to be.

Vaggie was overjoyed. The shed would have tools to cut her hands free.  It could have the keys to the gate there, or at the very least, it was something she could use the rope to climb so she could reach the top of the gate.  It didn’t solve every issue, but it solved enough of them to give Vaggie a bit of hope, as long as it wasn’t locked.

Upon closer inspection, the shed was larger and better built than Vaggie thought.  It had air conditioning units on the side along with a hose and a few plumbing pipes going into the ground.  

That was when Vaggie came to a horrifying realization.  It was a slaughterhouse.  It had to be. No garden shed was this well-built.

The hand-painted sign above the door seemed to confirm her suspicion.  It said, “Sacred Treasure.”  Vaggie gagged.  Yep.  Alastor would pick such a messed-up title.  She was in the right place.  Oh, well.  At least, a slaughterhouse had sharp objects Vaggie could cut her ropes on, again, as long as it wasn’t locked.  

Vaggie twisted open the handle, stepped into the dark, windowless building, and shut the door behind her.  She felt around the wall with her bound hands until she found the light switch, and when Vaggie flipped it on, her mouth fell wide open.  

The building was a slaughterhouse that Alastor had converted into a shrine dedicated to her.  Hidden photographs of her covered the walls.  Vaggie’s heart sank.  The Radio Demon had been stalking her for months without her knowledge and that was not all.

The slaughterhouse table was covered in blankets and pillows that smelled like the perfume she liked to use indicating that Alastor had slept in there.  Vaggie gagged as she ran around the table, and found, to her horror, that a detailed statue of her with a display stand holding the spear she used to threaten him on the day they met.  

Vaggie was frightened, but she was also angry.  Alastor thought he could stalk her, study her like a new animal species, and steal her possessions without her permission.  He was going to pay for that, but first, she had to cut her bonds.

Vaggie began cutting her rope on the sharp spear in front of her statue.  She smirked in relief as the rope cut through the knots and unraveled on the ground.  The rope finally broke apart.  

“Yes!” Vaggie cried out in joy as she twisted her wrists around in relief and pulled the black handkerchief free from her neck.  “Now to find Charlie…”

“There, you are, my love!” the eerie yet irritating radio host voice said happily from behind her causing Vaggie to freeze fearfully in her tracks.  “I was so worried when Rosie told me about that fight you two got in. I wanted to come comfort you sooner, but we couldn’t find you anywhere and I honestly never expected you to get this far.  No one ever has.  I’m honestly impressed.”

Vaggie just then noticed the radio sitting at the feet of the statue.  She screamed out in frustration as she kicked the radio against the wall breaking it instantly.

“Oh, you figured that out, too?!” Alastor exclaimed in surprise.  “Oh, Vaggie!  You are so smart!  I’m falling in love with you more every minute!”

Vaggie angrily grabbed her spear and turned around to point it in the face of the Radio Demon sitting on the edge of the table.  

“What happened to the intruder?!” Vaggie yelled pointing the spear in Alastor’s face.  

Alastor, of course, wasn’t intimidated in the least but whistled a radio jingle and summoned his familiars. The light went out, the door flew open, and his deer familiars flew in carrying in Angel.  

The spider demon had all six of his arms tied horizontally behind his back, and his feet were tied together rendering him completely immobile.  He was slightly bruised and coughing very hard, but he still smiled weakly when he saw Vaggie.

“Hey, toots!” Angel said between coughing up blood.  “How’s it goin’?”

Vaggie didn’t respond, but her frightened face said more than enough.

Alastor snapped his fingers causing his familiars to throw Angel against the wall making him grunt in pain.

“Argh!” Angel cried out with a condescending smirk.  “Is that all ya got?  Is that all ya got, Alastor?  And, I thought you were going to show me a good time.”

Alastor responded by snapping his fingers and summoning a gag around Angel’s mouth.  

“What have you done?!” Vaggie angrily yelled pointing her spear into Alastor’s face.  

“Nothing the little bluenose didn’t deserve,” Alastor replied nonchalantly pushing himself onto the floor and leaning his face in front of her.

“Let us go now, you creepy shitlord!”  Vaggie yelled before attempting to stab Alastor in the face.

Unfortunately, in one fell swoop, Alastor swiped the spear out of Vaggie’s hands, tossed it back to its stand, put both his hands around Vaggie’s face, and leaned in until their faces were practically touching.

Alastor’s eyes turned yellow as he started singing an old Southern lullaby, “Go to sleep, you little babe.  Go to sleep, you little baby.  Go to sleep, you little baby.  Your mama’s gone away, and your daddy’s gonna stay.  Didn’t leave nobody but the baby…”

Something was wrong. Vaggie started losing the feeling in her fingers and toes.  She knew it was Alastor’s magic.  

Vaggie tried shutting her eyes and squirming her head away from his grip, but Alastor used his thumbs to hold open Vaggie’s eyelids and kept singing, “You’re sweet, little babe. You’re sweet, little babe.  Honey in the rock and the sugar don’t stop.  Gonna bring a bottle to the baby…”

Angel screamed through his gag.  Vaggie lost all the feeling in her limbs until her arms and legs were as stable as spaghetti noodles.  She writhed around fruitlessly while fighting the heavy feeling in her eyelids as Alastor sat her down against the wall next to Angel who could only watch.

Suddenly, two cellar doors on the other side of the room that neither Angel nor Vaggie noticed before flung open and Rosie walked up the stairs.  

Rosie glanced over at Vaggie coldly and complained, “Awww!  It looks like I missed most of the fun.  I so wanted to get back at her for burning my face.”

“I know what she did was quite rude,” Alastor said stepping in front of his barely conscious love interest and gesturing towards his other prisoner.  “But surely, there’s something I can do to make up for it.”

Rosie suddenly noticed Angel and squealed in joy, “Oh, Alastor!  Is that a new playmate?  Can I play with him please?  He’s so handsome!”

“Of course, you can, but be sure you can satisfy him,” Alastor warned her playfully as Angel suggestively wriggled his eyebrows at her in response.  “He’s in demand, and he’s in need of relief if you know what I mean…”

“Oh, of course,” Rosie said attempting to walk past Alastor to pick up her new “toy” before the latter put his staff in front of her.

“But I need you to do something for me first, if that’s alright,” Alastor said.  

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Rosie replied.  “You are giving me such a cute playmate after all.  What do you need?”

Alastor glanced back at his two prisoners and gestured back at Rosie for her to follow him to the other corner of the room where their conversation wouldn’t be heard.

Not that Vaggie could hear them anyway.  Her senses were being dulled by the second, and there was nothing she could do.    

The mouth demon began shaking fearfully until her right hand faintly felt a squeeze.  She twisted her head over to look down and saw one of Angel’s bound hands gripping hers.  Vaggie looked up to see Angel’s sympathetic eyes looking into hers in a warm, confident, unbroken stare.  She could only stare back to show she understood and smiled tiredly as a few tears fell down her cheek.  Angel did the same underneath his gag as he began massaging her paralyzed hand with his fingers.

The moment was broken when Alastor’s foot stomped on Angel’s hand.  Vaggie looked up to see Alastor’s angry eyes glare bullets into Angel as he howled painfully into his gag.  

Alastor then knelt down to Angel’s eye level, gripped the collar of Angel’s jacket, pulled him in until their faces were almost touching, and whispered threateningly, “If you wish to live, Dust, you will never touch her like that again.”  

Alastor then picked Angel up and threw him over his shoulder easily as if he were a towel.  Before Vaggie knew what was happening, Rosie did the same thing to her.

“Rosie, not so rough,” Alastor protested placing his arm on Angel’s back to stabilize him.  “If that is how you’re going to treat my future wife, I might have to rethink your present.”

“My apologies, Alastor,” Rosie said readjusting Vaggie so that she was being carried bridal style. “I’ll try to be more careful. Please don’t give my new toy away.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Alastor said merrily stepping onto the first stair going into his basement. “I’ll see you two later.”

Without another word, Alastor began stepping down his stairs while Angel stared back at Vaggie as reassuringly as he possibly could until they were out of sight.  Vaggie stared back until her eyelids finally slid shut as Rosie gently carried her back towards the house.