miami killian

Chapter 1: Lost in Space {Avengers x Fem! Reader + Rocket}

~Part 6~ The Life of an Avenger: Ice Queen

Prompt: After the assassination of her family, suffering though primary cardiac cancer, being sold to Hydra (ultimately stimulating her ice magic), escaping Siberia with the help of James Buchanan Barnes, then four years of Avenging with her team through the Battle of New York, becoming Tony Stark’s person, falling in love with Steve Rogers, befriending the rest of Earth’s mightiest heroes, traveling to Asgard with Thor, the fight against Hydra in Washington, the victory over Killian in Miami, the almost-end-of-the-world war versus Ultron in Sokovia, and, most recently, the Civil War that pitted her family against one another in a ridiculous fight that resulted in her best friend, Tony Stark, almost killing her…through everything, now (Y/N) faces an all new threat…herself. Who can she trust after even those closest to her had turned against her? But the ultimate question is, and always will be, can she even trust herself? This is the story of the Ice Queen.

MASTERLIST

Warnings: swearing

Originally posted by ageofsuperheroes

  “Where am I?” (Y/N) asked herself as the ever-growing crowd of unfamiliar faces curiously took in the strange girl before them. 

  This wasn’t what (Y/N) had expected when the Asgardian sorceress, Eir, had sent her on this mission. First off, Eir was nowhere in sight, and secondly, this wasn’t even fucking Asgard. So, as her original question begged, where the hell was she?

  As her vision cleared, (Y/N) shakily brought herself to her feet in the center of the smoking, electric blue circle the portal had eternally burned into the ground and walked to the edge of the bridge as the crowd gasped and strayed away from her. She gazed over the tantalizing, technologically savvy realm that she had crossed into, alas all she knew was that this wasn’t where she was meant to be. This was a mistake.

  Suddenly, a swarm of golden, star-shaped ships raced overhead causing the colorful crowd to divert their attention away from (Y/N), giving her the opportunity she needed to make her escape. Quickly, (Y/N) jumped over the side of the bridge onto the street below full of bewildered aliens that avoided crashing into the extraordinary runaway as she bolted down the block. But, despite the effort on both ends, (Y/N) inevitably bumped into countless peculiar characters including a bright blue man with one piercing gold eye and one dead, white eye not much unlike Fury’s. She barely evaded a pair of twin sisters, both an odd mustard shade who gave (Y/N) disgusted glares for even nearing them. 

  And, no, she didn’t have a goddamn clue where she was going, and didn’t bother to ask anyone for directions. Was this a good plan? No. However, how the hell was she supposed to know who to trust? So, at that point, all she could do was trust herself, and her gut told her to run…and run…..and run…..wow, that was a lot of running, but eventually she reached the place her heart desired: a small, dark pub down a shadowed alleyway by the setting sun. Perfect.

  Just outside the doorway, (Y/N) leaned against the ancient, cracked wall of the pub, the first architectural fault in what seemed like miles as she heaved in deep, gasping breaths, her wandering eyes finding the next few blocks to be just as decrepit as her lungs felt. Her body couldn’t hold up in the ways it used to when she could full-out sprint like a cartoon Roadrunner on crack for years on end. Her heart just couldn’t keep up with her spirit any longer, which just added yet another reason for her to find the Orb and regain the power of the unstoppable goddess she once was.

  After her impromptu heart attack passed over, (Y/N) straightened up, cracked her neck, then strode into the hole-in-the-wall bar that seemed out of place in such a wholesome city. Her mind couldn’t fathom the wretched air that filtered into her tired lungs as she lifted herself onto a wooden bar stool between a few other tired souls. She could imagine that at least one of them was a cop of some alien-sort, preying on easy targets. This was a place of the lost, the homeless, and the criminals.

  “Can I buy you a drink, Pretty Lady?” the man next to (Y/N) inquired, his face hidden behind a long, dark overcoat. His stature was odd…something was off about him, despite the confident voice he held.

  “Save yourself the money, dude,” (Y/N) laughed breathily. “I have a boyfriend.”

  “Always the same excuse with you ladies,” the man scoffed as he dropped his hood, revealing…

  “What the fuck!” (Y/N) gasped, almost knocking herself off of her own bar stool as the, stay with me here, raccoon rolled his eyes and took a swig of his drink, attempting to keep his temper in check. 

  “I know I haven’t shaved in a while…or ever, but come on. Don’t be rude.”

  (Y/N) leaned her elbows on the bar top, running her fingers through her wild hair as she stared straight forward, ignoring the dirty looks from the bar-goers she forced out of their seats. “I’ve finally lost my mind,” (Y/N) whispered to herself. “I mean, I knew it was gonna happen eventually, but…not with a talking raccoon.”

  “…you’re not from here, are you?” the raccoon spat after a pause, then took another swig. “The name’s Rocket, if you’d like to know. And yes, I am, in all technicalities, a raccoon. And also, yes, I am single. How you doin’?”

  (Y/N) just stared at Rocket for a few long seconds until she let out a long breath and waved over the bartender, keeping her eye on Rocket as she raised one eyebrow at him. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”


Stark Tower, NYC

  “How is she this good at escaping places?” Tony groaned as he tried to fix the inevitably broken portal to Asgard, the one that had dropped (Y/N) into not-Asgard after she had gotten what she had wanted from Tony, her necklace to open said portal. “She’s the luckiest punk I’ve ever known. I mean, she doesn’t even have her powers anymore and she can still pull this crap!” 

  “Mr. Stark,” Vision started, dodging a piece of scrap metal that Tony threw over his shoulder. 

  “I’m supposed to protect her…I was supposed to…I’m her person…”

  “Mr. Stark,” Vision insisted, “might I recommend we use a different method to find her.”

  “Like what, huh?” Tony yelled back, laughing condescendingly as he continued to be useless. “Unless you can find the door to Narnia, or the train to fucking Hogwarts, there is no other way to get from realm to realm. This was it! And now it’s broken!” Tony roared as he punched the machine, breaking it further. “Oh, great…perfect!”

  “Maybe if you calm down-”

  “Calm down?!” Tony scoffed, then shook his head vehemently as he went back to work. “No…no, I can fix this…I can! Just…just give me a few hours, or a day, or…dammit! I don’t know how long, but I can fix it! I have to fix it! I will fix it…for her….”

  Oh, if only the poor Mechanic knew how limited his time really was.


???

  After a few drinks, (Y/N) became acquainted quite nicely with Rocket. Their mutual respect for each other’s sarcasm and hate of most things made the time go by pretty quickly.

  “I just hate how smug he is,” (Y/N) slurred loudly to Rocket about the bartender. “Just look at him pouring those drinks with his sleeveless shirt, and manly stubble, and piercing violet eyes, and large biceps, and…and probably other large things…you know, I bet after he pours that guy’s drink, he’ll just sit in the back of his damn bar, and drink all of that liquid gold he’s got there…keep it to himself…”

  “He wouldn’t even share,” Rocket slurred back spitefully. “What a dick.”

  “I know a lot of dicks,” (Y/N) pouted, then pointed at the bartender. “We’re on to you, Richard! We know…we know everything.”

  “Everything,” Rocket repeated as the bartender just smirked, seeming amused by the drunk duo.

  “Oh, I’m gathering that you two are just a couple of Sherlocks,” he responded with a laugh as he headed into the back of his bar.

  “Dick,” (Y/N) muttered as she chugged her drink. “Well, I’m out. Gotta go save the universe, or universes, or whatever…be The Chosen One…I’m bloody thrilled…”

  “Wait, what?” Rocket asked, leaning heavily against his bar stool. “I’m a, uh…Galaxy Gargoyle, or, uh…Guardian of the Galaxy, so…I should help you with that.”

  “I don’t mean to sound rude, but you’re a what?” (Y/N) laughed.

  “It’s a real thing,” Rocket contended. “Don’t act like you’ve never heard of us. You may be from Earth, but you don’t seem that stupid.”

  “Guardians of the Galaxy?” (Y/N) scoffed. “Sounds like the title of a shitty comic book that nobody’s ever heard of, until a miracle happened.”

  “That’s specific,” Rocket deadpanned, then shook his head. “No, just a few months ago we stole this purple rock that blew shit up, and was awesome, and we found the Collector, and he was a prick, but anyway, we stopped Ronan, and saved the universe, and I kinda wanna dance. You wanna shake a little somethin’ somethin’?”

  “Oh, my God…you’re the fucking Space Avengers.”

  “The what?” Rocket demanded, then shook his head and tried to grab (Y/N)’s hand. “Ah, who cares? Dance with me, would’ya?”

  “No, wait a second…the Collector?” (Y/N) slowly pieced together, then pointed at Rocket. “You know the Collector?”

  “More like the Useless and the Crazy, but yeah…I’ve met the guy,” Rocket shrugged, his paw still reaching out for (Y/N).

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “Why do you care?” Rocket snapped, throwing his paws in the air. “He’s a homeless nut job! A psychotic moron!”

  “Homeless?” (Y/N) inquired. “No, no, no…he’s supposed to have the Orb.”

  “The Orb? That disco ball of death is locked up tight here in the city at the Nova Corps, which is fine by me, because who knows what that nut job would’ve done with it if we’d sold it to him…however much money we would’ve gotten…dammit…”

  During Rocket’s muttering (Y/N) quickly pivoted and strode out of the bar.

  “Hey! Hey, wait up!” Rocket called after her, grabbing a hold of her leg. “I ain’t done talkin’ to you, yet!”

  “Pity,” (Y/N) mused distractedly, completely dismissing Rocket as he hugged the door frame of the bar, his wobbly legs not able to move on.

  “Just tell me your name!”

  “Oprah!” (Y/N) yelled back as she sprinted from the bar, a smirk on her face from the convenience of the situation as Rocket slumped to the ground behind her. Maybe Eir was onto something…


Stark Tower, NYC

  “This isn’t working!” Tony howled after almost seven laborious hours of work, yet not a single spark crackled from the faulty machine. It was a lost cause.

  “There is not another way to reach Asgard?” Vision asked yet again, perched atop a lab table in the corner of the room, his patience something of a saint.

  “Not that I’m aware of…this was it,” Tony sighed in exasperation, wiping an oil-splattered hand across his sweaty forehead, leaving a jet black shadow across his worried brow. “The only other option would be, and this is a long shot…we could involve Erik Selvig…as if this wasn’t crazy enough.”


  Nova Corps, Xandar

  After wandering the darkened streets of what (Y/N) now knew to be Xandar, she finally found the Nova Headquarters (not that it was hard considering it was the largest, nicest building in the city, but a sense of accomplishment was well-needed, whether it was deserved, or not).

  Now, let’s speed things up a bit here, ignoring the minor details of how fucked up (Y/N)’s major fuck up was, and just say: long-story short, (Y/N) has no patience, raccoons make surprisingly good cops and horrible secret-keepers, plus  (Y/N) hates guard aliens with bigger sticks up their butts than Thaddeus Ross on his period. 

  So…alien prison…check that off (Y/N)’s bucket list full of things she never imagined existed, but shit, it happened. And there she was among her comrades, her buddies, her pals, her…

  “Did it hurt?” One of the inmates demanded offensively of (Y/N), the leader of the group of five other orange jumpsuit-ed cast mates that had surrounded her at the table she was seated at, almost every pair of eyes in the prison on her…appraising her…undressing her…

  “If you’re referring to the fact that you’re talking to me, then yes,” (Y/N) smirked up at him, wincing dramatically. “Ouch.”

  “Alright, sweetheart, I’ll let that one slide,” the green man drawled as he slid into the seat next to (Y/N) who just stared straight ahead as if he weren’t even there. “My next line was, ‘when you fell from Earth.’”

  “And which Blockbuster did you rent that bullshit line from?” (Y/N) taunted as she tried to stand up, but two of the leader’s lackeys placed heavy hands on each of her shoulders. Big. Mistake.

  “I came over here to be nice, offer a hand…and maybe even offer a bit of tail,” the green man explained, licking his lips like the real sick freak he was, something (Y/N) could smell on him from the other side of the room. “But now, now doll face, I’m demanding a bit of tail. Not many babes walk in here…I, and my friends here, plan not to let you walk out of here without a small taste of Kyln…a souvenir so you say on your planet.”

  Okay, this place was hell. Literal hell. 

  Luckily, (Y/N) had had a few round trip tickets to hell for mere sport.

  She built up her strength and freezer burned both men’s hands from her shoulders that they shook off vehemently while muttering about treacherous sorcery and witches. Slowly, almost regally, (Y/N) stood, leaning over to whisper in the green man’s ear, her cold breath as chilling as her words, “frost isn’t the only thing that bites back…thank you for the hospitality, but hell will freeze over before you ever near me again. Consider yourself, and your plastics, warned.”

  Well, didn’t that feel good? With a smirk and a pep in her step, (Y/N) strode victoriously from the stunned group of inmates with mixed emotions of awe, respect, rage, but most of all…burning lust.

  So, as the day turned into the night and curfew was called, the prisoners were sent to their chambers (or to ‘the pile’ as everyone seemed to call the massive heap of sleeping inmates that buried each other in sweaty bodies on the floor of the largest corridor, because…reasons) for sweet dreams of freedom within the confines of hell. However, some were not so keen on sleep when desire woke their bones, sending them hunting for the newest recruit for more than a good night’s kiss. No Prince Charmings tonight in Kyln.


  The day was cold and crisp. It must’ve been autumn as the hazy swirl of red and gold laced the chilling breeze through (Y/N)’s wavy, (Y/H/C)’s hair. She could see herself dancing, as if she were watching a recording of herself. The carefree smile she witnessed cross her own pink lips was maddening…why could she not feel that way anymore? The happiness seemed to radiate from her in colors as vivid as those of the sunset-woven sky. Why could the world not be as beautiful as she used to see it? The sunsets as bright, the days as beautiful, her life as wonderful? 

  Suddenly, her view changed. She saw the world from the eyes of her dream self, just as she used to before Ultron tore her team apart, his promise to end the Avengers finally holding up it’s end of the bargain. 

  The electric sensation of frigid air rushed through the white dress she adorned so perfectly, tingling her spine, kissing her nose,and teasing her hair with refreshing waves. She felt free again and she breathed in life at its finest as a pair of strong arms welcomed her waist in an all-so-familiar way that swelled her heart with the true feeling of love. 

  “Steve,” (Y/N)’s dream-self whispered into the breeze as she felt a rumble of laughter soothingly shake his body from behind her as she naturally melted her own body into his warm, toned body.

  “I’ve missed you, love,” Steve proclaimed softly as his lips tenderly met (Y/N)’s temple.

  “I missed you, too,” (Y/N) replied as a smile of relief washed lightly over her face, until she felt a shift in Steve’s body.

  “Then, why did you leave me?” Steve asked quietly, the heartbreak trapped in his voice. 

  “I had to,” (Y/N) explained sadly. “I have to do something…I have to help.”

  “Help who, (Y/N)?” Steve demanded as he spun her around to face him, the golden glow of the sunset casting his features in a god-like glow. 

  “Help the world…all of the worlds,” (Y/N) explained again, her temper slowly rising as she began the same argument with Steve all over again. “Why do you not understand, Steve? What’s so confusing about stopping an enemy and saving everyone?”

  “Who told you about this enemy?”

  “Steve, I told you,” (Y/N) huffed. “Bruce, Eir, and Thor in Calcutta. You remember, don’t you?”

  “(Y/N), that was a dream…you know it was,” Steve rationalized thoughtfully as (Y/N) shook her head in indignation.  “You’ve lost your mind. Admit it, love.”

  “No…I know what I saw, what I heard. It was real. It’s all real…I’m not crazy…it’s real,” (Y/N) argued feverishly as she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, something she had felt before. A gut wrenching sensation, as if someone were creeping up behind her, reaching into her chest…cold hands with nimble fingers as tantalizing as the legs of a tarantula…waiting for the right moment to kill.

  “Let me ask you this,” Steve whispered as he lifted her chin with his gentle, calloused hand, the other encircling her waist as he pulled her close. “Does this feel real?” Steve asked as his lips melded into (Y/N)’s like a velvet blanket atop silken sheets on a Sunday morning in November…soft, smooth, and comfortable. She was home. 

  Slowly, Steve pulled away, his intense blue eyes begging (Y/N) to listen to him, to heed the words he was about to say, “Please, come back home to me…”

  But before (Y/N) could say a word, the ground shook violently beneath her, cracks and chasms carving the green grass under her bare feet into bloody wounds of scorching flames that licked her dress, burning the hems, charring the cotton from white to black as the world churned menacingly right below her. From one second to the next, the world fell apart, but worst of all, Steve was gone, and all that was left was the crushing feeling of choking as her lungs collapsed in on themselves from smoke inhalation. Laughter. The devil was laughing at her as she struggled to survive, but she couldn’t…it was too much as the nightmare faded, the flames scorching the edges of (Y/N)’s conscience to black…was this death?

  Not a chance. The disturbing laughter continued. 

  At least in death, you have the promise of sweet silence.

  (Y/N)’s eyes shot open to find the dirty, green man sitting on top of her, each of his knees pinning her arms down, his large hand wrapped horrifyingly around her neck as her body instinctively fought back, but she was weak. She was dying. A prison fight would never be won by a dying girl.

  “Let…go,” (Y/N) demanded through heaving breaths as the man laughed, high fiving the three other men who watched, grins carving their faces like the chasms of fire in (Y/N)’s nightmare. Fire. (Y/N) felt the rage fueling her body as adrenaline kicked in, her instincts flying as she pulled her knee up into the man’s crotch, happily enjoying the look of sick satisfaction on his face turn into shock and pain in less than a second as she pushed his convulsing body to the floor where he curled into a ball of misery. Good.

  Her years of training paid off as she popped off her stiff, wooden board of a bed, prepared to take down the perverts before her, however…three versus one without her powers…not really a fair fight. She soon became head locked by a man who looked worthy of a UFC fight, one of the other men running his hand up (Y/N)’s right leg from ankle…to calf…to inner thigh…

  “I’ve never felt silk before…but now I know it’s worth the money,” he teased viciously in (Y/N)’s ear, causing the other two men to laugh. It was over. (Y/N) was over. She shut her eyes and sent her mind elsewhere…just as she did when she was being tortured in Hydra…nothing could hurt her…nothing…

  Until the large hands were pried from (Y/N)’s body, although she could barely feel it. All she heard was a scuffle as she fell to the floor, slowly shaking her head to clear her mind of the fog she intentionally cast over it, her eyes opening to reveal one of the prison guards electrocuting the absolute fuck out of the two prisoners, leaving them crumpled in sorry balls on the floor, following their leader in shame. But what really caught (Y/N)’s eye was how the guard shocked the leader despite him already being down for the count. Suppose the guard didn’t want him to feel left out.

  In a rush, the guard pulled (Y/N) to her unsteady feet, guiding her hastily through the darkened hallways lit only by the unsettling green bulbs of light overhead. It made (Y/N) queasy, the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach returning as the guard held fast to her elbow, leading her (well, more like pushing her) to God knew where, but (Y/N) was too tired (and grateful) to ask questions. 

  Eventually, the guard shoved (Y/N) into an entirely dark room, shutting the door tightly behind himself, gliding up to stand directly behind (Y/N) as his cold lips found her ear.

  “Glad we meet again, Ice Queen,” the guard hissed, his regal accent not one hard to place. The suave, confident manner of his attitude not forgotten in the short time he’d been ‘dead.’

  “Oh…” (Y/N) sighed regretfully, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I’m always honest, Lady (Y/L/N),” Loki purred. “So, I don’t care much for kidding. My busy schedule won’t allow such a pestering practice.”

  “Then, I guess you’re not very busy. Not being dead must’ve freed up your day,” (Y/N) shot back, pulling the string on the light bulb above her and Loki as she faced the prick, his high cheekbones carved out by the shadow of the eerie light cast above him.

  “Always a pleasure, my dear. Care to hold your tongue while we discuss business?”

  “What more could a girl ask for?” (Y/N) inquired sarcastically, her smirk mirroring the grin upon Loki’s face. 

  Trust is not something to be found in the middle of hell.


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MASTERLIST